Come the afternoon of the following day, Anthē and Zantheus were still talking about the idea of stories.

“If you ever wrote a story,” Anthē had asked Zantheus, “what would it be about?”

“I am not sure,” Zantheus was saying. He had never considered the prospect before. “I do not feel that it is an especially useful way of spending time. It seems to be more of a pass-time for...dreamers.”

“Dreamers?” said Anthē. She remembered talking to Conn and Feanna. “But everyone dreams, don’t they Zantheus? Aren’t we all dreamers?”

“I suppose...” said Zantheus. He thought some more. “Then...I expect my book would be about mountain-climbing.”

“Is that what you dream about?”

“For the most part...” Zantheus felt a little embarrassed for some reason. He shifted the focus off of himself. “What would your book be about, Anthē?”

“A princess,” said Anthē, straight away. “It would definitely have a princess. And a brave hero, of course. And he would perform brave deeds and overcome many obstacles to rescue her. And they would get married and live happily ever after. Adventure and romance all in one.”

“That sounds like a children’s story to me,” said Zantheus. “What do you think, Tromo?”

Tromo nodded, grinning cheekily at Anthē.

“Well, let’s hear you come up with a bet—”

Anthē stopped. She had spotted some sort of creature in the same field as them, over to the left, moving along slowly, close to the ground.

“Hey! Leukos!” she shouted. “There’s something moving over there!” She altered her course to go and investigate the slow moving creature, taking Tromo with her. Zantheus followed for once without complaint at the distraction, curiosity getting the better of him. As they came closer they saw that the creature was in fact a man, hunched over so that he could peer down at the ground whilst holding something close to his face, walking forwards very gradually at the same time. He seemed to be inspecting the earth, though Anthē had no idea why. The field they were in was not particularly special or out of the ordinary. All that grew in it was plain old grass, aside from a few flowers, mainly daisies. There were no crops for him to be checking up on.

She gave voice to her puzzlement. “Er, excuse me...what are you doing?”

The man looked up at once in astonishment. “Oh my!” he said. Everything about his appearance was thoroughly abnormal. He was very short, that was what you noticed first, and he had a thick long beard, white as snow, which grew down to his waist where it was tucked into his belt. His clothes were very smart: He wore a fine dark suit, complete with a waistcoat and black bow-tie, largely obscured by the beard. The effect was only dampened by the fact that his shoes, trousers and a good deal of his jacket were covered in mud. He still held the object, a magnifying glass, up to his face with his right hand. Big inquisitive eyes looked down a slightly pointy nose, through thick spectacles and lastly into the magnifying glass at Anthē, which enlarged her many times over. “And to whom may I address my answer?” was the next thing he said.

“Um...I’m Anthē. And this is Tromo.”

“And are these gentlemen your companions also?” asked the man, turning his magnifying glass on Zantheus and Leukos, who had just arrived at Anthē’s side.

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“Yes. My name is Leukos.”

“How d’you do? And your name, sir?”

“I am Zantheus, First Paragon of the Aythian Order, Champion of Awmeer.”

“Fascinating!” said the old man, with real enthusiasm. “I am truly honoured to make the acquaintance of the four of you.”

Zantheus, very much pleased by this, said “And what is your name, sir?” Here at last was someone showing him the respect his title deserved. He must be getting nearer to Qereth.

The old man smiled, at last lowering his magnifying glass. “Well,” he said “as long as we’re observing the proper formality, my full title is Professor Kathegetes Kalodidaskalos, BA, MPhil, PhD, ABC, Master of Scientific Enterprise and Field Studies.” He paused to allow the grandeur to sink in. “But, my pupils and my friends,” (here he winked at Zantheus, on whom the gesture was entirely lost) “just call me ‘Kathegetes’. I say.” His attention had been diverted all of a sudden. He had seen Leukos’s book. “What’s that you’re writing there?”

“I can’t say,” said Leukos curtly.

Kathegetes deposited his magnifying glass in a pocket in his jacket and took out a pipe which he lit and started to smoke. “Very good, very good old chap, Mum’s the word. Novel, is it?”

Before Leukos had a chance to rebuff the man again, Anthē decided there was a more pressing matter at hand. “Excuse me, you haven’t answered my question.”

“Oh,” said Kathegetes, “goodness me, what question was that, young lady?”

“What are you doing here?”

“So I haven’t!” he said. “Well my dear, I’m looking for Enlightenment, don’t you know. As we all are. But Enlightenment can be very elusive, you see. Your man Zanthalos here will tell you that, I’m sure. Fascinating, really. Luckily for me, though, one tends to find lots of interesting things when one’s looking for Enlightenment, and we’ve taken to studying them in detail. Marvellous business.”

“What do you mean, ‘we’—?” Anthē said, but Zantheus cut her off: “Why are you searching for Enlightenment in a field?” he asked incredulously. “Enlightenment is only to be found at the summit of Mount Awmeer, surely you must know that?”

“Well, that’s a matter of opinion, isn’t it, my dear fellow?” said Kathegetes diplomatically.

“No, it is not,” said Zantheus. “It is clearly written in the Rule of Aythia that Enlightenment is only to be attained at the summit of Mount Awmeer.”

“Yes, yes, fascinating...” said Kathegetes, staring quite unselfconsciously at Zantheus. “An Aythian knight, you say? Remarkable. And I suppose you have visited the summit of Mount Awmeer, have you, my good man?”

“Yes, I have,” said Zantheus proudly, but hoping that the questions would end there.

“Curiouser and curiouser...” said the old man to himself. A thought seemed to settle on him. He burst into speech again, talking very fast in an excited manner and gesticulating wildly with his pipe, which startled Anthē. “My dear friends! It is not every day that I have the good fortune to bump into such excellent and knowledgeable persons as yourselves! You simply must allow me to invite you to stay at my place of residence for an evening! We have much to discuss! Would you be so kind as to accompany me to the Academy?”

Zantheus was predictably reluctant. “Thank you for your offer,” he said, “but we are in the middle of a very long journey with which we wish to be finished as soon as possible.”

“Ah yes, I can see that to be the case,” said Kathegetes, temporarily losing momentum. “May I ask, in which direction is it that you are heading?”

“North-east,” said Leukos.

“North-east...” repeated Kathegetes. He recovered his momentum. “Why, the Academy is practically due-north-east! You must come! I am sure you would all be glad of a hot meal and a night in a warm bed!” he added, eyeing their mangy and dishevelled cloaks.

Anthē looked at Zantheus pleadingly, thrilled at this prospect.

“One night couldn’t hurt,” said Leukos.

“Very well,” said Zantheus with a sigh. “Just one night.”