《A Poem for Springtime》Chapter 3 - The Hermit’s Gift
Advertisement
The old man continued to try to pull the club away from Kidu. Kidu twisted the club free and the team the man started to howl.
"Calm yourself," demanded Kidu, tossing the club over to Timlan. "I'm not going to hurt you. Who are you? Why are you here? How did you get here?"
"Three questions," the old man cackled. "Who are you? Why are you here? How did you get here?"
Kidu sighed. "I'll answer you, but you must tell me about yourself afterwards. I am Kidu e'Rengu and this is Timlan. We are both from House Angshar. We are here looking for someone. Perhaps it is you whom we are looking for."
"How did you get here?" the old man growled, rubbing his wrist.
"I did not mean to hurt you," Kidu said. He glanced at Timlan and for a moment considered grabbing the old man and carrying him back to Angshar. “We climbed through the night. We spent the night at the Cloud Seat. I knew how to get here because I've been here before."
"Kidu of House Angshar...did someone send you...for this humble servant?" the old man asked, peering into Kidu's eyes.
"My master Rengu sent me to investigate recent disappearances of supplies at the Cloud Seat. Are you the thief that has been raiding the temple?" Kidu asked.
"So no one sent you..." the old man slumped over. "This servant doesn't know what the Cloud Seat is."
Kidu saw hunger and a loneliness in the old man’s eyes. He began to pity the old man. "It is the temple carved into the side of the mountain that overlooks the lake of House Angshar and all its fields."
"This servant is only an old hermit that lives on the mountain," the old man said. "This is what the Great Master called this servant...just an old hermit. This servant visited your carved temple twice, because of hunger. This servant went to pray but the temple is of the Great Master's gods of the five fingers, not the Spring God. But he is no thief. He only took what was promised by the Great Master."
"Who is this Great Master?"
"Alas, the one who has forgotten Serkrit. Yes, that is the old hermit's name, though he has not uttered it himself in a very long time. Without the Great Master's grace, Serkrit's fate is sealed. He went to the temple again but there was no longer any food. No food but endless winter. He made a promise to the Great Master…a promise! He swore to forsake the Spring God but without the Great Master's hand to guide him Serkrit was lost and cold. So he didn't know what else to do so he prayed to the Spring God, using the old words he had not used for many years. Two days later Serkrit found the Fruit of the Earth." The hermit began crying. "This is how Serkrit knows the Spring God had returned, for only He could answer such prayers. Serkrit promised a long time ago he would not eat the Fruit, but this time he did. It is an ill omen for the Great Master."
Advertisement
“He's making no sense,” Timlan said. “He keeps referring to himself as He.”
"Serkrit," Kidu said, lifting the hermit to his feet. "Come off the mountain with me. We will give you food, warmth and welcome in our House. Angshar is benevolent. However it is a difficult climb down for an old man. If you will allow it, I will bear you upon my back."
"Master Kidu of House Angshar, forgiveness please for striking at you. Serkrit had mistaken you for another gift of Fruit from the Spring God. This servant has a gift of his own, for you, if you will please permit the old man to go back to his home.”
"Kidu, no," Timlan said.
"Masters of the House should not fear an old hermit," Serkrit said, bowing his head. “Come with me.”
Kidu nodded. Serkrit bowed and climbed up the rope ladder like a wary animal. A scattering of things could be heard, then quiet. Kidu waited and strained to hear any sounds but could discern nothing. "Serkrit!" he called, but no answer came. Kidu climbed up the ladder and poked his head into a small chamber. The room was lit by a small fire in a what looked like the top of a skull. There was a crude bed with a pile of coats and a low table with a pile of satchels. Serkrit was digging through a box he had pulled out from beneath the table.
“Where did you get these things?” Kidu asked. “These satchels belong to others?”
Serkrit spun around and handed Kidu a weathered red roll of leather. “A gift for the young master.”
As Kidu took it, he was better able to examine Serkrit’s fur lined coat. It was too large for him, and it was easily the newest thing that was in the room. “Where did you get this coat?”
“The Fruit of the Earth,” the old man said, walking to the end of the chamber by a wooden door. He flung open the door and exposed the pale blue sky, the light flooding the room. In the light Serkrit’s age truly showed as the wrinkles on his face and eyes ran deep. “Good, both are here. Master Timlan of House Angshar, Yes?”
“Not quite a master,” Timlan said, climbing up the rope ladder. He stood beside Kidu examining the red scroll. “So this is the Small Cell. Kidu, how did you know someone was in here?”
Kidu shook his head. “What is this gift I am looking at, Serkrit?"
Serkrit squatted next to the open door and motioned for them to follow him. The door opened out to the snow. He showed them where the steps in the snow were as he climbed down from the door.
Advertisement
“What did he mean by Fruit of the Earth?” Timlan whispered.
“I’m fearing the worst,” Kidu said under his breath. “But lets see where he takes us.”
Kidu and Timlan followed him through the door, the bright sun from earlier in the day now having dipped low in the afternoon, shrouded by clouds. Kidu realized he must have been out for hours after he fell. Serkrit slid down to a flat clearing. From this vantage point, Kidu could see the hole he fell through.
“This is the door to the Small Cell!” Timlan exclaimed.
Kidu nodded and scaled down the ledge to follow the hermit.
Serkrit walked over near the edge of the cliff and looked down on the city below, his back crooked. “Many years ago this servant was in the lands of Spring with the Great Master and a young horse lord. The Great Master took a single prize from the lands of Spring, but the horse lord took many treasures as his bare arms would allow. One of those treasures the horse lord took is this gift you now hold. When Serkrit left the lands of the Spring and returned to the footsteps of the Great Master's House, there was a terrible argument over the treasures. The young horse lord refused to hand over the treasures he had claimed, and he challenged the Master. The Master then broke both of the horse lord's arms for defiance. This servant took pity upon the horse lord and followed him to the mountains where he found a new house."
"Do none of the people in your stories have any names?" Timlan asked.
"It is ill to speak the names of those who are not here," Serkrit said, "even if those have been ill to this servant."
The contents of the scroll made no sense to Kidu. There were strange markings and drawings, lines, angles and a language he was not familiar with. “What happened to you, Serkrit?" Kidu asked, rolling up the scroll and handing it to Timlan. “You are not borne of this land, are you? Your name and accent is not one I’m familiar with.”
"The Horse Lord was cruel to this servant," Serkrit said, looking away. He scratched the back of his wrinkled but tough neck. He put his hand up and made a gesture as if something was falling. "The Horse Lord wanted to cast lightning upon the world but this servant would not allow him. The red gift you see, Master Kidu, this servant took this gift far away so the Horse Lord could not use it. Where to go? Cold and snow, cold and snow! Where Serkrit is from, there is no cold and snow. No where to run. Only to the Great Master, Serkrit returned to the Great Master’s house. The Great Master would not take his servant back to his house, he said his servant could not be trusted. Instead the Great Master has been hiding this servant away in the mountain ever since."
Serkrit nudged up to the very edge of the cliff and looked down upon the shimmering lake and the fields surrounding Angshar. He could see the small rafts adrift on the lake. "Master Kidu may never understand the words written on the red scroll, but the Great Master knew that it was more important that the Horse Lord never be able to read them. Down there is a baby that you must find. He is the prize that the Great Master brought back from the lands of Spring. The Horse Lord will burn these islands to find that baby."
"Where is the baby now?" Kidu asked. "Do you have his name?"
"Alas the Master never named him to Serkrit," the hermit said. "He has the blood of the South. Find him and protect him, for the Great Master found him to be the greatest prize in the world, and worth saving beyond all else."
"We have dried fish for you, and if you will climb down with us we have more food waiting at the Cloud Seat," Kidu said. "Help me find the baby."
"When you see the Master, tell him Serkrit waited for him as long as he could," he said. The vulture perched itself on a tree next to the hermit. He cocked his head at the vulture, who let out a raspy hiss in return. "Tell the Master that his humble servant failed him when he spoke the old words. But Serkrit held the red gift secret as long as he could and now he gives it to Master Kidu, from the same house as the Master. Death comes before the end of this day. Oh Master Kidu…winter is ending, and the Spring God is coming."
Serkrit leapt from the edge of the cliff. Kidu and Timlan rushed to the edge but watched in silence as the old hermit was gone.
"Who was he?" Timlan asked. "How long had he been here?" And who is his Great Master?"
"Three questions," Kidu replied, looking down at the city.
Advertisement
- In Serial945 Chapters
Azarinth Healer
A new world with nearly unlimited possibilities. A status, classes, magic and monsters. Sounds good? Well, for Ilea it didn't come quite as expected as for some other protagonists, nor was there a king or god to welcome her. The grand quest? Well, she might figure that out someday but for now, a new world with new food is prize enough. Her fists at the ready, she's prepared to punch and get punched, however long it takes and however many limbs she might have to regrow. A story I've started writing now quite a while ago. Transported to another world, somewhat standard fantasy setting with my beginner attempts to make it dark but funny. There are Litrpg elements here but I do hope it's not too heavy and annoying. The fights should be interesting and aren't just numbers vs numbers. Contrary to the title the protagonist will be quite an offensive fighter. Ilea Spears is your average sarcastic kick-boxing fast food worker and soon to be student. She will be transported to another world rather conventionally and will be confronted with survival in the wild. Give it a shot and let me know what you think. My experience is incredibly lacking. If you find yourself hating it early on, do convey your anger in a detailed comment or review :) I want to get better but without any feedback it's simply quite difficult. Quick heads up: Around chapter 120 there are a bunch of longer PoV changes that I discontinued again shortly after. The Arc around chapters 150-200 is darker than the rest and the themes shift quite a bit. Just know that it goes back to what you've come to know after that section. Thank you for reading. Quick update June 2019: Many complaints regarding the formatting, specifically spacing in conversations and of course the usage of the present tense in the first 36 chapters have been addressed. I'm of course learning by the day but compared to how it was before it should be an improvement at least. Chapters usually around 3k words Cover art by Kevin Catalan
8 4704 - In Serial21 Chapters
Batman and Spider-man: Year One
Batman must learn to work together with an energetic vigilante who calls himself Spider-man as high-tech Vibranium weapons circle around the streets of Gotham.
8 125 - In Serial9 Chapters
Title of True God
Every person tends to have an emotion inside them but not every single one of them can show them properly, 17-year-old Aoi Kichiro is sensitive but incapable of showing his emotions like normal people around him, because of this, his social skills are almost at zero. He is a high school student and has no friends. But one day something happens to him, a change to his life that changes everything for him. The way he looked at his life, They way he looked at other humans. Updates On This Novel Are Slow, Really Slow! Cover Art Credit - ??? Thank you for making this beautiful Art :)
8 199 - In Serial32 Chapters
Cross Roads: Wolves of Oleander (Book Three)
Guy Finley once wrote, "Nothing in the universe can stop you from letting go and starting over." For the remaining members of the Nether Elite, it's easier said than done. With their dark past crippling any progression, it's a constant struggle for acceptance and moving forward as they fight against old enemies and each other.Memories of the past are forced to come to light as the former members of the Oleander Syndicate are given a once-in-a-lifetime chance of redemption while being on the right side of the law. However, for them to seek redemption they must first ask for absolution for their past transgressions-- no matter how big or small.
8 147 - In Serial12 Chapters
Gods and Glory
What is Right? And what is Wrong? It's the hypocrisy of history written by victors. The Gods are good, the Devil is evil or so we've been told. Those who oppose the rulers in this world shall be persecuted and entitled evil, for they might shatter the false peace established. There never will be true peace, only coexistence. For to live is to devour; To devour is to deplete that which is consumed. This is the fact of life. What makes a Hero? Who deems what deeds be called 'Heroic'? Saving the world? Being chosen by a God? Unbelievable Power and Skill? Spirit of Self-sacrifice? Or Devotion and Bravery? Who knows? Our protagonist shall play the part, starting over again to correct her mistakes. Pit against the tides of fate, struggling to change the future. Her nemesis, victim of a cruel life and the irresponsibility of adults. Sights set on revenge, now he crawls his way back, looking for blood. Watch the contest between wits and brawn, as they fight their way up to victory. In the end, who will prevail? Noble or Peasant? The Hero or the Devil? Mortal versus Immortal. This is a story of Sin, a tale of Trust, a novel of Nobleness, and a chronicle of Magic. ~ fin ~ "I will write my way into another life." - Ann Patchett - Hello everyone~!!! ~(???)/~ Ballisti here. I hope you had a good time reading! This is my very first book, but I've spent quite the time writing and editing this. So I'm a tad bit confident with this. Sadly, I'm only able to put up 2 chapters weekly. The reason is...I'm still a student. School is hard, annoying and a hassle but necessary. So I'm really sorry for the slow updates, but please bear with me~!(?-?-?) I hope you enjoy reading this ('cuz I sure as hell had so much fun writing this ( • ??•? )). Thanks~! Follow me on Twitter @ballisti_here
8 235 - In Serial55 Chapters
Freshman
"This is it. This is the day my life begins. This is my first day of high school. I would always lay awake wondering what it would be like. Would these four years really be the best four years of my life? That's what my middle school principal told us. But I doubted anything he said; everyone did."The life of a few "babies" of high school.For other titles you may enjoy, please check out:- What Cancer Cannot Do- It's Just Prom
8 125

