Previously: In Search of a Pilgrim - session diary 3 part 1
I would never expect myself to write short stories, my school teachers wouldn’t either - but here we are. It’s ironic: the role-playing games that the teachers almost preached against are making me do so.
No matter her experience, Myron’s words about the ghosts being in the house affected Klio, and she decided to visit it once more this morning.
The villa looked even more impressive in the daylight than it did in the late evening, but the damage was more visible now.
Myron mentioned the ghost crawling from the inside pond; it sounded like the best place to contact them. First, she tried to talk to them, sitting at the bench built around the pond, but there was no response. Second, she tried her ritual to detect magic, but it didn’t bear any fruit either. It seemed pointless. Klio wasn’t looking forward to a second interaction with the bear, which might still be in some of the back rooms, so she left the house and its secrets be.
But those books she found on the first floor sounded like something valuable, if not for her specifically, then for Óó’s temple, whose teachings valued all knowledge. Following her upbringing, she decided to go to the local temple in Bowzon and tell the local priest about them, so they could recover them and save them from destruction.
The ancient priest in the Bowzon’s temple of Óó didn’t make her happy, though.
“People lost faith, nobody is interested in the old lore,” was his reaction to her suggestion of collecting the books by some young local believers.
She didn’t even try to ask him personally to do it, as he looked like he did not have enough strength even to walk as far as the edge of the town. And her suspicions were confirmed when he explained that he’s waiting for his replacement, from Heliopolis, who should have arrived weeks ago. He served in this temple for more than seventy years, and it’s finally his time to rest in peace.
In the end, he promised to mention the books in the old villa to his replacement when he arrives.
She lost enough time here; there was just one more thing she should do before leaving Bowzon before going back to the chase after her dad. She should send a letter to her mom, sharing her journey so far. Fortunately, messages were still transported between individual temples even now, when most of the marvels of old times were just stories told by the elderly.
As she got closer to Elaion, she saw the same huge ship she had seen a few nights ago; it was leaving the port. The only outside connection to the outer world, a merchant who arrived twice a year in Pungit, was already going. It was a huge two-masted ship, bigger than any ship seen on the islands since Óó died. But what connection it was—they were only buying local olive oil, not even bringing any news from the outside world; the crew wasn’t even leaving the ship, and they certainly weren’t willing to take any passengers.
Elaion was much bigger than she even imagined. All those noises and smells. How could they all manage, she wondered. There was no way she could find anyone who had seen Teofil here; there was no point unless he visited the local temple.
It wasn’t hard to find the temple, but the boarded-up doors and windows made it clear she was out of luck. As if to underline how unlucky she was, a drunk beggar was laughing at her when she stopped in front of the temple.
“People here have a new god, lady, shiny money! You’re many years too late to visit the temple and even more to get anything from its god.”
“I see, can you at least show me to a tavern where I can sleep?” she asked, throwing a few coins in his direction.
He pointed to the opposite side of the small square where the temple was, with a smile so wide it almost cut his face in two.
The chubby maid at Blue Olive had given her a nice dinner and a room just for Klio, so she wouldn’t need to share with a few men who were also staying there. Klio was visibly in no mood to talk. She was too young to be left alone with them.
It took Klio the whole day to get under Mount Koimas. The sun had already set, and she arrived at the pilgrimage house with the last light. A visibly scarred, old but still vital man was sitting outside and welcomed her.
“I’m Ravax. I’m taking care of this house and its visitors. Are you here to go up old Koimas?” he asked.
“Maybe. I’m looking for Batra’s priest, my father, who was supposed to go there. Is he here?”
“I see, he was here, left about two hours ago. You can wait here for him when he returns. I will provide you with accommodation and food in the meantime.”
“Thank you, but I really need to find my dad now. We’ll take on your offer when we get back. Now, please show me which way I should go.”
Ravax just nodded and pointed his hand towards the narrow stone pathway.
Klio lit up her lantern and hurriedly started running up, shouting Teofil’s name, trying to stop him and get to him sooner. Running uphill wasn’t easy, and she didn’t make it all the way. But three hours later, she saw a moving shape on the pathway ahead of her. “Dad! Wait for me!” she shouted again. The person or whatever was moving there stopped.
With renewed vigor, she started running again. It was him. It was her dad. Standing there, slumped shoulders, not even reacting to her. Not until she reached him and hugged him. In that moment, he started to weep. The whole of his body was shaking under Klio’s hands.
“It’s me, Dad. I didn’t drown. I’m alive!”
At that point, he almost collapsed into her hands.
“I’ve heard your voice, but I didn’t believe it,” he said, light returning to his eyes.
They sat at the side of the path, hugging each other. It took them some time before they started to talk. Klio explained how a current carried her boat to the Axios coast and how the water carried it away while she slept on the beach. Seeing those two from the lighthouse killed by spiders, and how Georgios saved her when the spiders also attacked her. About getting home, and mom telling her about their assumption of her drowning and his pilgrimage.
“Dad, why would you come here? What did you hope this trip would give you that you don’t have at home?” she asked gently.
“Peace of mind. I felt so bad — maybe some answers, like — why did Óó allow this to happen? Instead, I was losing my faith more and more. Óó denied me the power to vanquish ghosts. I started to drink. But, now when I’ve…” he looked lost for words. “No!” with new energy, he continued, “You’ve found me, and I’m happy now. That’s what I was looking for,” and with a broad smile, continued, “I was weak, but Óó provided in the end. Let’s go up, we need to show our gratitude.”
They walked up, hand in hand. Hours later, they reached the summit. There was a small spring, just as the legends promised. They drank, using their hands as cups. The water was ice cold, refreshing, precisely what a pilgrim hopes for. They had been walking up the whole night, after all.
The moment they stopped drinking, the first rays of sunlight appeared. Teofil started to point towards the sun. Klio’s eyes followed — it was beautiful, the view was stunning.
“If nothing else, this view is making the trip worth everything,” commented Teofil. “Did you notice where the sun is rising from?”
“From the sea, of course,” was her first thought, but before she said so, she realized it wasn’t true. “It’s rising from Heliopolis?” she said instead.
“City of Óó’s light, indeed,” replied smiling Teofil.
After a while, they sat next to the spring, enjoying the view of the whole island. Teofil told her all the details from his trip. He showed her his cleaned-up but not healing wound he got from the ghosts from the Vortan villa — they both can see it wasn’t a bear who did it.
“We need to clean this up; it looks bad,” Klio reacted.
“I did. Ravax told me he will need to cut away the dead meat. He should be ready to do it when we get down.”
“Let me clean it, Dad,” she insisted.
What could he do? She was his daughter, returned from the dead. There was nothing he would deny her. Klio had a plan; she just needed to make it look believable. While using the spring’s water, she used her healing powers to heal the dead flesh. Now it looked like a mild sunburn.
“Miracle!” shouted Teofil when he noticed. “Óó be praised!”
“May I find the strength to tell him it’s not Óó’s. Soon,” she thought, but left that without comment.
They spent their afternoon going down. Ravax already prepared a hot bath for each of them. He was also ready for the surgery on Teofil’s arm. The surprise in his eyes was obvious, but without a blink, he packed his equipment and left them to the bathtubs.
Klio finished early and took her dad’s clothes to mend the tear on the shoulder. Leaving her dad to enjoy the soak, she went outside. Ravax was sitting on the porch, mumbling something into his beard.
“Can you please take care of my dad? He might fall asleep in there. I don’t want him to drown.”
“If he healed that wound, he doesn’t need anyone to watch for him. But I will do that for you. That wound shouldn’t have healed, you know. I’ve seen too many wounds in my life to know,” he said while getting up and walking inside.
Klio spent some time walking around, picking lovely flowers and whatever fruit she could find. She put all of it into a hollow hole in a tree. She also carved a small, crude statue of Anax and placed it in the middle of these offerings. Right now, it was the only thanks she could offer him — thanks for finding her dad safe again.
Exactly like she expected, Teofil fell asleep in his bath, but Ravax was there to save him.
Klio and Teofil spent three days on the way home. Everything was like it always had been, with one little difference — Klio knew there were other gods, and that they had provided power to others.
That night, she fell into a deep sleep and dreamt of Anax.
“I’m glad your family is safe, and I know about that shrine you built for me. Thank you. I also have something for you. I’ve remembered where a priest of old was buried — he would be able to teach you more if you find him. It’s close to Lake Nefeli.”
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