I awoke on a mattress in a concrete cell. A sickly, yellow light buzzed above me, somehow both too dark to illuminate the room and yet too bright for the sweet lull of darkness. A heavy blanket had been thrown over me. Sweat caked my naked body, and I was burning. I tried to throw the thick sheet off, but I found that I was too weak.

Turning my head, I noticed a bowl of water and a loaf of bread had been placed near me. I leaned forward. Though I was tempted to lick from the bowl, the ways of my School remained in me. I reached my shaking hand into the cool water and brought it to my lips. I did this four or five times before I was unable to continue. After I rested some more, I bit into the loaf, chewing slowly and eating as much as I could.

Once I had satisfied food and drink, I could do naught much more than stare at the ceiling and shut my eyes in the uncomfortable light. I noticed a door on the other side of the small room, not that I had the strength to clamber up—let alone try to open it. I was now firmly at my captor’s mercy. I turned so that my cheek rested against the pillow, and I tried to go back to sleep.

But there is what the mind desires and what the body demands, and I have found the thoughtless comforts unfortunately fall in the latter’s domain. So I entertained myself with conjectures, prone as I am to such musings.

I am someone who has often walked in the realms of dreaming and waking, and I do not think in the usual manner, for I remember my dreams as if I had lived them, and my dreams come to me even in the day. There have been occasions where I have mistaken dream for memory and have forgotten the world for the eye of its beholder.

As I teetered on these two realms then, I’ve come to ponder on the third. There is a certain space you go between waking and slumber where thoughts come unbidden and leave just as suddenly. In this place, you do not exist, at least not the you as you understand yourself. It is not the dream, but that darkness from which you ascend into the thought given flesh.

Some people claim that this void is the real version of yourself, the lowest layer of our being from whence everything springs forth. Having recalled my many travels there, I think this is folly. So many try to plunge into darkness for the light, delve into chaos for order. To always travel downward does not mean that you will get at the heart of things. After all, to understand a tree, you would not only look at its roots. And if you were to truly understand the forest, you would look at the woodland above with the same mystery as you would below.

Such strange thoughts and more, I pondered until I woke again.

…

I was still feverish and weak, but at least I was stronger than before. The infection raged within me, but I was more concerned about my wounds. Should I stay in this condition, I would not be able to resume my journey for many months. I knew what had to be done, but I was scared of doing it.

“You’re in bad shape.”

I jumped in my blanket—as much as I could—realizing there was a man sitting next to me. In his hands, he held the same mask he wore earlier. It sloughed away in his hands as if a snake shedding the wrong skin. Though from this man’s appearance, I could tell he was no snake.

A measure of sandy hair crested his head. His features were that of a noble soldier who had fought for too long, a portrait for the end of youth. While he still commanded high cheeks and a sturdy jaw, the skin was drawn around his tired, blue eyes. His thin frame spoke of hardship and worn muscle. There were no wrinkles or greying hair, but I knew this man was old, in a way that went beyond mere flesh.

He picked at his mask curiously, weighing it unfamiliar in his hands. “Was it a wolf?” he finally asked, looking up.

I hesitantly nodded.

“You’re lucky then.”

“Where are my possessions?” I asked, immediately fearful for the book.

The man didn’t answer. He stared at me with his crooked eyes. There was an unsettling light behind them, as if he knew things he shouldn’t.

“Who are you?” I changed the question.

“A soldier. Same as you. You’re safe, for now. You’re at a supply cache. We used these for scouting parties once.”

“How far am I from Terminus?”

He glanced away. “Close enough, I wager.”

“I need to get there.”

He chuckled. “That shouldn’t concern you.”

“Why?”

“Because I haven’t decided whether or not to kill you.”

I considered this gravely and thought on my answer. “Very well, but I should inform you that I’ve sworn not to die until I reach my destination.”

The man’s chuckle grew into a hoarse laughter. “Those are bold words. For that, I shall counsel you with my thoughts so that you may have some say in my dilemma.”

I had never been more attentive to another’s speech in my life.

The man began. “The secrecy of these caches is paramount, as there are many enemies who wish to plunder them. In light of this, I was ordered by my commander to kill anyone who stumbles upon them. It is just as well, for no one travels these lands who is not a warrior and prepared to meet a warrior’s end.”

“But you spared me,” I ventured.

“It is not honorable to murder a wounded man begging for aid,” the man replied. “Additionally, keeping you alive meant I had more time to ponder the situation until I could come to a more permanent decision.”

The stranger’s eyes dug into me. “I ask you, what would you do in my place? Should I disregard my commander and abandon the duty assigned to me? Or perhaps should I keep my oath and forever soil my hands with your blood?”

I knew that no plea for my life or for my quest would reach the man’s ears. Only honor had stayed his hand, and only by honor would he allow me to live. And I myself pondered whether it was honorable that I should walk from this room. It would be a strange end to my mission, but not the worst one, I think.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

I sat upright, and I opened my mouth—though you should know I planned no contrivance in my speech. I wanted to know whether the Potentate would protect me, even after all that I had done.

“The question… is one of authority,” I surmised. “A prince’s decree can be overruled by a king. So too can one law take precedence over another. So I ask you, which of the two is higher in this case?”

“I swore no oath to the laws of honor or the common decency of man. And soldiers are permitted to do those things that are taboo to defend their kin. It seems to me that my commander’s is higher.”

“That may be.” I did not rush to my words, and I think that is what saved me. “But your commander is still bound by that law unless he would forsake his vocation and become but a bandit and a thief. His authority to kill rests solely on the authority of the Potentate, otherwise we would find him evil. The moral law is higher than your commander’s.”

The soldier grinned. “That is the correct answer,” he spoke with a certainty that told me he came to that conclusion long before.

I stared at him in question.

“You might be surprised, but these situations have happened before, and many guards have come up with their own riddles to test those who stumble upon our caches. I prefer this one because I find the most honest faces are those faced with a threat of death. If you had proven to be a man of the law—or at least of honor, then there was little risk in letting you live.”

“And if I had proven to be a savage?”

The man’s eyes grew a little cold. “I would’ve nursed you back to health still. But I am not obligated to defend such men, nor am I responsible for them once they leave my shelter. I will tell you that you took only one entrance to this bunker. Had you failed, it would’ve been to the deep tunnels for you.”

From his tone, I realized I did not want to know what dwelt in the deep tunnels.

“But what if I was a charlatan who only used my knowledge of the law for my own ends?”

The soldier scoffed. “Then the wolf would’ve gotten you. Know this, these lands are home to many things and many peoples, but it is not kind to those who are dishonest. Men are dishonest to hide their weakness, and this land swallows weak men with an unquenchable thirst.”

I nodded, and I relaxed back downward, contemplating all that had happened.

The stranger stood up from the corner. “I had one other assurance. I looked through your satchel, and I saw the manuscript. Stories say that the Schools once sent couriers to Calrathia to store up all knowledge. But I have heard none attempting the trek in centuries. Let me advise you, go back. The road is far too dangerous. After Terminus, there will be no respite. There is only the cold and the things that lurk within it. You barely survived a wolf.”

“I was only taken by surprise,” I cooly responded.

This elicited another snort from the stranger. “If you don’t perish, you will be allowed to stay until you get your strength back. After that, I can feed you no longer.”

“I’ll leave within the next few hours.”

The stranger turned at that. “You’re very ill. You can’t even walk.”

“Bring me my possessions,” I told him, “and a vial of anesthetic.”

…

Looking over my bandages, I realized that they had been changed regularly. The stranger had done an adequate job of stitching my wounds, though the infection darkly streaked out from where the wolf had gouged my arm and leg. Had I left these to their natural course, I suspect I would’ve eventually lost them to amputation, or never been able to walk without a limp again.

The man returned with my clothes and satchel. Strapped on his back was my sword, although he soon placed it in the corner with the rest. I dug through my satchel until I found a crimson vial. Thankfully, it was unbroken.

“I know your wounds ache, but stopping the pain will not help you.” The man pulled out some anesthesia and a syringe.

“It isn’t for my wounds,” I responded as I held out my hand.

He handed me the syringe, and I began measuring out the doses for the anesthesia and the red liquid.

There are certain concoctions soldiers are apt to use—at least those who live near the Alchemists. One of these is the Bene Tincture. With the Astronomers, I was taught in its careful application. Too much and the flesh would become a cancerous tumor unto itself. Too little, and the flesh heals partly, but necrotizes soon after. I took the needle and first numbed myself with the anesthesia. Even so, my hands were shaking as I reached for the blood-red vial.

They say Bene does not heal you so much as replaces your flesh with itself, that with every passing use, you lose more and more of yourself. I personally cannot attest to this tall tale. I have seen the healed wounds and could not discern any difference. And also, it has been used on me on several occasions, although each time I was thankfully first put into unconsciousness. But that was precisely the reason I was so afraid now. I knew the pain it would cause.

I pulled the plunger on the syringe, and it filled with the crimson liquid. I placed it on the vein of my soiled arm and looked up at the man. “It would be best if you left this room for a while.”

He nodded and went out into the hall, closing the door behind him. I pushed the syringe into my arm and pressed down on the plunger.

Of what followed next, I shall not report to you. The laws of nature are not ignored so easily. The rapid growth of flesh, even in wounds as superficial as mine, did not conform well with the Law of the Conservation of Mass. All you need to know is that I needed nothing to bite down on. I would’ve torn through any cloth, and my tongue would regrow back anyway.

…

I stepped out from the door half an hour later, fully adorned with my clothes and gear. I shivered, though I was not cold. Strength had returned to a sick body and health would come soon enough.

The stranger looked me up and down in shock and bewilderment. He stepped back. “I confess I did not believe you. I have only heard stories of such miracles.”

“I have seen many things within the curved lands of Zodiak, and many more on my travels. This one I would rather not talk about.”

The stranger nodded grimly.

“I do not wish to burden you anymore than I already have, but may I ask one more favor? I haven’t had a good meal in several days.”

He led me down the hall into another concrete room. This time, the walls were lined with shelves stocked with goods. Much of it was canned food, but my eyes wandered to a shelf in the corner that held several rusted firearms. Perhaps they had seen battle a long time ago, however, they were now relics of a bygone era. I was offered such a weapon to aid me in my exile, but I refused it. I am normally not a superstitious man, but even I feared calling upon the spirits of the wrathful dead.

In the center was a lone table made of thin wood. There were four stools, though I had neither seen nor heard a trace of any other men besides my newfound companion. I sat down while the soldier brought out some canned meat and two cups of water. I noticed he also set a bottle of strong alcohol on the table.

We both did our own prayers before supping.

“If you do not mind a few questions.” The man tore into a chunk of meat. “Why are you making this journey? In the past, there were great ships that could take you from Terminus to Calrathia in a few hours. When they finally fell into disrepair, most gave up. Even the faithful who pressed on with ice skimmers, they had to desist once the winters grew worse and the cannibals acquired a taste for their flesh. I tell you now, conditions surely have not improved in the intervening centuries.”

“It is… the last thing I can do for my School. I am banished from Zodiak and cannot return under pain of death.”

The man raised an eyebrow, but he had the sense not to pry into the reasons behind my exile, though doubtless he guessed at them.

“And if you reach Calrathia? Only then will they permit you to return to the School?”

I was silent for a moment. “No.”

The man nodded solemnly. “I do not wish to tempt you from your path, but many men would’ve abandoned this road.”

I took a deep breath and drank some of the liquor. “According to our custom, an Astronomer may be sent into exile. He may be stripped of his mantle and abandoned to earth, but he may never cease to be an Astronomer. So it is with many of the Schools. I am still bound by law to deliver the manuscript as a condition of my exile. I cannot stray from this path.”

The man thought this over, and we ate in silence for a time. Once, I would’ve considered this meal to be rather lacking. However, after many days of travel, any food was delicious. It is another of those paradoxes one encounters in life. Food is far more enjoyed by the man who fasts rather than the man who cannot stop eating.

“I have come to a decision,” the soldier announced. “I will accompany you to Terminus. The city is not without its dangers, and I would not see you come to harm before your journey begins.”

“That is most generous, but who will guard this shelter? I have not seen anyone else.”

“It will not be long. Terminus is a day’s journey, and it should be a short order to acquire what you need for the road south.”

“Then I shall gladly accept your help.” I took one last bite before standing up.

We shook hands and departed soon after.