There used to be more of us.

Each time a Finder started to get old and thoughtful, they wandered off, looking for something that caught their fancy or didn’t exist and they never returned. My predecessor had dropped off the face of the earth five years ago after he had trained me. No note, nothing.

Thanks Robert. At least I knew he hadn’t starved to death.

You see, whatever we could picture, we could find. 

Now, I couldn’t boast a 100% success rate. Finding something that had been destroyed was impossible and abstracts like “The meaning of life” pulled me in so many different directions at once with varying degrees of insistence.

The city I was assigned to was a prosperous one, cities with Finders generally are. We have to be careful not to disrupt the economy too much. I kept a map of all the minerals hidden in the hills, revealing new locations only when there was a need or when it could benefit everyone. Our guild law was ironclad, you cannot give everything to one person, you cannot take for yourself.

Most of my time was divided between finding a lost coin or a toy or a spoon. They were inevitably in obvious places, right under their noses or behind something. I felt like the world’s mother, sometimes not even using my powers, just asking  “Did you try under your bed?” Sometimes there were bigger stakes, like finding the path to a treaty, but for someone like me, it was always simple.

I had always wondered my purpose in life, but as a Finder, that one is easy. You feel a slight tingle then a pull in the direction of the nearest person that lost something. I knew why I was here. Destined for a life of monotony.

Then one day something shifted. I was being propositioned by the king that was convinced that he needed more gold for a bigger army “just in case”. I tuned him out, periodically shaking my head from side to side to get my point across. He looked increasingly pitiable, his crown slowly migrating down his forehead as he gestured with vigor.

What is this world made of? There was a pull toward the ground and toward the few stone chalices in the room. I was getting better at asking my questions in a manner that left few answers.

What is the meaning of life? There was a noticeable pull towards the door, away from the babbling king in front of me.

Why are we here?

I was yanked off my feet, sliding a pace on my stomach until I cleared my mind.

The king was staring at me, his mouth still open, but no more words pouring out. Thank God. 

I heaved myself to my feet, made two invalid excuses and left. The typical Finder feeling was coming over me. Like a bloodhound that caught a scent, I couldn’t let it rest. I had to know.

It had been so long since I had felt this feeling, this rushing pushing feeling, that I was consumed by it. I left nothing, no note, no explanation, barely stopping to grab a bag for the journey.

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The pull was so strong that it felt like I was flying toward the answer, my steps more to keep me off the ground than to propel me forward. I travelled for several days, only switching my finding senses to food and water when I was too hungry to continue.

There was no path, but a Finder finds his own. I felt alive for the first time in years, this is what I was truly meant to do, this is what Finders are born for.

Then I was there, barely a week later, on the edge of a clearing. The pull suddenly went from being forward to being all around me. I skidded to a halt, no longer possessing the strength to fly forward so effortlessly.

The clearing was empty, save for a single rock buried in the center. It was smooth and a dull red, but I ignored it for the more pressing matter. Perched on top of it was Robert. 

He waved a hand in greeting, pulling on a long pipe. I walked closer.

“You thought of the question then?”

“I guess so”, I replied. I wanted an explanation, a ‘sorry I left’ but I guess this would have to do.

“Well let me show you.” He hopped off the rock and gestured to it with sweeping arms. “This is a lodestone. It gives us our power. It is the answer to why the race of Finders exists.”

The rock didn’t look like much. This close it was a shade of red like old blood, pitted with tiny scratches and little black dots. The kind of rock an oddity man would sell at a carnival.

“So why do we exist? Besides a rock telling us to.

“Ah, that's the next question, for that though, you need a demonstration.”

And with that, he closed his eyes, touched the rock and disappeared.

I blinked in shock.

There was a pull toward the rock again, even though I hadn’t been trying to find it. I pushed myself backwards, falling to the ground for extra support. It was useless. As strong as the pull to get me here was, this one was stronger. I yelled as I slid into the rock, bare hands slapping the surface.

The sun dimmed there were suddenly wisps of green and blue fog floating around in the air.

“Finally.” Robert blinked in annoyance. I could see him now, a glowing translucent form. Floating a few inches above the ground. I glanced around and saw several other forms sitting on the edges of the clearing. They looked at me with interest.

“You see,” continued ghostly Robert wiping what appeared to be ghost sweat off his brow, “The power of finding doesn’t exist. Ghosts can read certain peoples’ minds, like yours, and they simply lead you where you need to go.”

“Here.” He took my hand and pulled me forward. It was the exact same feeling I had whenever I wanted to find something.

My entire understanding of the world came crashing down. It took a few seconds for it to sink in, “Wait, you’re a ghost now?”

“Since two minutes ago, yes” He sat down on the rock again, smoking the same long pipe, blowing faded green clouds now.

“Can you turn back?”

“Wouldn’t be much of a ghost if I could”

“Why?”

“Because this world is constantly losing things to war, to plague, themselves. Someone has to be there to find it all.”

I thought about it for a moment. All the people that I had helped, all the times I had found the last bag of grain for a family in need. All the times I had used my power to find peace in an argument or prevent a war. The world was a better place because of me. Because of all the Finders. There was only one thing.

“So that’s it? I’m destined to die?”

“We’re all designed to die, you get to help people when you do.” Robert put a hand on my shoulder somewhat sadly.

Now I sit on the rock and I smoke my pipe, and I wait for the next Finder to come along. I wait for the day that I die and spend the rest of my time correcting the course of humanity.