Khato

Khato





    "Huh," a dumb look covered Titus' bored face.  "Did you say something?"  He made no secret that he despised instruction. 



  His tutor's head was near boiling with exasperation, why did he just not try at least to learn, "Yes, what does this pictograph mean?"



  Titus looked over to the grease stained parchment that Jephro had thrust just under his nose.  The ink that he had pointed to had interesting curves and lines.  The design seemed interesting, but the meaning was lost to the tow-headed youth.

  He tried to guess what the teacher had written on there, probably something designed to tell him to do something.  "Attention." Titus loudly sighed outward.



  A smack fell on top of his head; Titus didn't try to fight back, he never won against this wrinkly old man.  If he struck out against his mentor, his father would just wallop him at home.



  "Are you just guessing?"  Jephro raised his voice loud enough to get the attention of every other boy in the field. 



  "Yes," Titus said simply, it would just be a waste of sight to lie.  Nevertheless his sight was too rapidly draining away all the color had already gone away.  He barely opened his eyes so that no one would see how dark his eyes were.  All that he had to see by was a very dim black and white haze.



  "It says 'focus'" Jephro screamed, his fave was red.  "Just focus, or you will be black-blind within a fortnight.  Jephro's face was really angry, but Titus wouldn't see it enough to care.  It was going to be much sooner than that.



Titus knew the old guy had the most gullibly soft heart."The sun is well over the sky, master, and I've many chores to take care of at home." Titus lied this time, and the last vestiges of vision slipped away as he said those words, but he didn't dare show it to any of the others in the field they were in. 

 

At age 14, he was a master at hiding how low his sight really was; and he thought he was good at being a convincing liar. 



  Jephro's face softened, he knew most of these children worked hard to keep their families alive, and that was why he became a traveling chronicler in the first place. 



  "You may go." He said, back in his dull voice devoid of emotion.  Titus got up from the felled log that served for the seats and left.  He left slow, paying great attention to his memory.  He knew mostly every step from Fair Field to his house, but he couldn't let any one know he couldn't see.  He stopped and felt around in his pocket, bringing up two colored lenses which he kept on his eyes when they became black.  Any one caught black-blind was thrown into the dungeon for a while to live in darkness.  He wanted no surprises regardless of how tired his eyes would be without breathing.



  Lucklily know one saw theblack orbs resting in his diguised lenses.    He wanted something for penance, he wasn't sorry for his actions; he needed the sight.  He was well into Ploorvill, the village he called home, now he had to be extra careful not to bump into any people

 

A small sound caught his already heavily attuned ears; a baby was crying near him.  Titus envied the baby a moment; sight would not vary for him for years yet. No doubt his mother was somewhere near here.  Titus bent downward and felt around on the ground; he picked a small flower off the ground. He went over to the crying babe and gave it the flower. The baby stopped crying for a moment and a small flicker of light leapt into Titus' sight.  He needn't fear bumping into anyone now.  He took off the lenses and turned to go; a small voice spoke out, "Thank you." The mother stood away four feet, "I've been trying to get him to quiet for a good solid hour now."

 

"No problem, ma'am" Titus couldn't make out her features, but he could tell by her voice that she was probably very pretty.  "Is there anything else I could help you with?"  He didn't want to sound desperate, but he wanted to soak up the best of sight that he could before he went home.



  "Actually..." she thought for a moment, "I could use some help chopping the wood today."



  "My pleasure ma'am," he could already tell his courteousness was improving his sight just a little bitthough he couldn't yet make out color.



  He didn't know the lady, but that was not uncommon in these times.  Ploorvill hadn't been very big a year ago, but lately it was becoming packed.  New huts were built; Ploorvill was to become the city seat of a new noble.  Titus couldn't say he missed the seclusion that had been there before. 



  She led the way around a new log house where a pile of half-cut logs were. Titus started chopping and put the logs in a neat pile.  His sight got better with every swing though it was still very low.  Her axe was made with new iron, she clearly wasn't too poor.  he thought it might be good to get a little closer to her.  The pile grew down to a mere couple of logs.  The lady came out of the log house "If you're willing, I could also use some help with feeding the animals."



  "Of course ma'am," his family wasn't expecting him back until noon, and more good deeds would help ease the blow of entering his parent's house.  In a way, Titus mused, I did do chores, just not for my family, so it wasn't a lie after all.  That still didn't give back the sight from the lie though.



He asked where the feed was; the pigs were gross, he wished he had done that first so he wouldn't have seen the pigs as well. After he fed the pigs, he got a little bit of oats from where the girl had shown him, and fed it to her horses.



  He looked up at the sky; at least he could see the pale blue that normally the sky should have.  Titus said to the girl, "My parents will be expecting me now,"



  "All right," she said, "if you get low on sight again you can come again, I'll find work for you."



  So she saw his purpose anyway, oh well, "Thank you," Titus said and continued on his way.  At least she had compassion enough not to report him.  He could make out the colors of everything fairly well now, even though red was still missing from his sight.  He hadn't been able to see anything red for several years now, which bothered him a little.  Titus' home was near the center of Ploorvill; his family had been one of the original settlers.  With the new noble, more people came in.  It made it easier for the Jackals to do mischief.



  When he came home, his father was already chopping some wood.  The clay stove burned with fresh embers from the stew his mother was preparing for tonight's dinner.



  The smell was good, but nevertheless, Titus hated it here.  His house had no extra rooms; it had nothing spectacular to adorn it.  It was, if Titus could describe it in one word, the word would be 'boring'.



  "Ho," Titus called in, but no one answered. "Need anything...no guess not, if it's all right with you I'm going to play with some friends, bye,"



  Titus left; he heard his mother yell something after him, but he paid it no heed.  His sight dropped a sharp little bit; all color was lost from his sight.  He considered it a small price to pay for a free afternoon, of course he might think otherwise when he came back home tonight.  He could always lie, saying he didn't hear it, but he hoped beyond hope that no conflict would come of it.



  He searched down all the alleys, hoping to find a Jackal.  Luck shined on him, Killy, leader of the Jackals was right down the fifth alley he looked at. "Ho," Titus greeted.



  "Ho," Killy greeted candily, "just the person I wanted to see, we need to meet at our hideout."



  "All right." Titus said now smiling; Killy had the look of having a particularly evil mischief planned.  Though his eyes were noticibly dark, for a jackal that was no shame but a pride.



  Titus followed Killy down several more alleys, through several turns that he knew well.  They ended up at a crossing between several alleys, it was one of the only places in the village that was forgotten, no one passed through here anymore, making it a good place for privacy; the perfect place for their gang.  The fact that privacy was needed for this conversation piqued Titus' interest.



  Killy stopped, a few other Jackal members littered the ground there, many of them were in a black-blind state. "I just heard the latest news," he said.  "Guess why new nobility is being established in our great town." 



  "I don't know," Titus said, he hadn't really given it much thought, in a mocking voice he said, "to help enforce the peace of the further parishes."



  "Besides that.  Gwerald was chosen, not for his abilities for justice," he spat out the word 'justice.' "He was chosen because he has successfully grown a flashplant."



  Titus was silent for a while, "A flashplant you say, are you sure?"

 

  "I heard it from Gwerald himself, I was at his new parlor today, spying. That's what I heard." This was indeed news, flashplants gave sight without penance or lowering it later.  The last ones were burned hundreds of years ago.



  "Does any one else know about this?" a boy asked coming out of his stupor.  Solid black eyes looked out at nothing 



  "So far, none that I know of, Rother," Killy's wicked look grew even more wicked. 



  "I sure would like to get out of this blindness," he said.  "How can we get some?  Most of us are too blind to steal anything." Buying certainly didn't come to any one's mind. Every single Jackal never had any more than a half-pence at any one time.



  Killy said, "Right now, we don't have the opportunity to steal it, the only time it will be open to us is a week from now when the king will give his blessing.  That's plenty of time to build up sight."  He looked hard at Titus, "I was hoping you could do it, you are one of our best thieves; and you always build up sight quickly."



  Titus knew what he was asking.  He would have to build up sight for the whole of the week, then he would have to lose it all, when he stole the thing, it would take all a healthy sight just to do it.  He had never stored up more than two days sight for a steal before, Titus had done it before, he could do it again even if it were for a longer time. "I'll do it." He said with resolve.  "I'll start building right away."  He turned to leave But Killy stopped him, "If we're successful we can do anything we want after that.  We'll become the most powerful gang in the whole kingdom. I'd be very glad if you didn't fail."



  There was a threat implied in that, but Titus paid it no heed, I won't fail, he told himself as he left.  All he needed was just a plant, surely he could get that. He'd start saving by going back home and facing his parents.  Until he stole the plant, he would have to prepare the same way for this sin as all the others he had planned.



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  This, Titus decided would be the hardest part of his building.  Dawn had just peeked over the horizon; the field was still covered from the night's dew.  Earlier Titus would have come late and tried to leave early.  The chronicler would be along soon to teach any from the village who wanted to learn how to read.  Titus hadn't wanted to learn, but his father had forced him. At least in a week he would be gone, and this headache would be over.



  Titus saw Jephro coming; he greeted "Ho."



  "Ho," called the old man coming to a stop, "What are you doing early?"



  This was indeed the hardest part, "I wanted to apologize for my attitude while you've been here and..." he could barely stomach the words, "I want to learn."



  Jephro actually looked surprised; he doubted that the boy was sincere, but he now had a chance to give the boy information.  Jephro hadn't gotten excited about his work in a long time, but maybe, maybe this time the information he would give him would be enough to push a desire in him for more knowledge. 



  Jephro hoped; he would certainly take this chance to try.  "Come over here."



  "Yes sir," Titus complied and they started his lessons. This time the old man held a new fervor, and Titus' sight shot up dramatically.



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  It was almost after noon when Titus arrived home, he couldn't have even taken any detours, lest he would have been late.  That would not have been good at all for his sight.  He had been tempted to stop at that pretty lady's place to build up sight, but after his chores at home sat all that sight buildup would amount to nothing and gone down even lower.



  "Ho," he called in, as usual his mother was busy cooking something, and his father was working some chore around the back of the house.  He walked into the house.  His mother was having trouble reaching a pan.  Titus went over and reached it over and handed it to her, such small menial tasks didn't brighten his sight much, but when Titus saved he saved every little bit he could. 



  "Thank you," said his mother, "and what are you up to today?" Titus could tell she was troubled about something; it would have been polite to ask, but Titus wasn't that desperate for sight. 



  "I haven't been doing much," Titus said.  "But I would just love a bite of this lovely bread you're making." Titus paused, he hadn't ever noticed before how good her cooking really was.



  "It's not finished yet," she admonished. "Why don't you go see if your father needs help with anything?"



  "Aye" Titus said. His father was chopping firewood again; Titus picked up another axe and proceeded to chop with him.  First he swung, the axe hit with a resounding 'shhhk'.  Titus asked hoping to score more sight, "How are you doing?"



  His father looked up from his work.  He was a big and burly man, but of a very sound mind; he was aware of why his son was being nice.  "I'm doin' all right I suppose, what are you up to?"



  To Titus the remark seemed accusing, why did they always seem to pick up on his schemes. "I'm not doing anything other than helping you this afternoon."



  His father knew that he couldn't push his son or all he would get would be lies.  He brought up a different subject, though it would be a difficult one.  "I think, son, that now would be a good time for you to get a job," he said, "I talked with Philimon, he said he'd be willing to take you on for trial as apprentice."



  "How long would this trial last?" Titus was suspicious; he had no intentions of getting a job.



  "Just until the week is over, he said he needed some extra help with working on the new nobleman's keep."



  "I guess I can try it." Titus said casually; an idea was forming in his head; it would give him time to explore the keep and maybe steal the plant a bit sooner. 



  "Good," said his father "I told him you would come over to help him this afternoon."



  "I guess I'd better get goin' then," Titus declared.  He put the axe down and left.



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  Philimon was not a very talkative taskmaster.  After Titus had arrived with the usual pleasantries, Philimon set him to work lighting fires.  The work was difficult as you couldn't see fires but for the small blur that they made. I guess that's why fires are so dangerous, Titus thought.  The keep itself was a rather dreary seeming architecture.  It was all grey stone walls; the decorators wouldn't even arrive until after the inauguration ceremony.  So to Titus was given the job of lighting the torches on the walls; the ceremony was still a good several days away, but Philimon wanted to make sure that everything worked properly.



  Titus finished that hallway, testing every single torch until he had reached the end.  He wiped the sweat from his brow, he couldn't tell what time it was, but he figured it was pretty late. 



  Titus' feet quickly took him to where Philimon was busy supervising the construction of an archway, "I finished that hallway. "



  "No, "he yelled, "How many times have told you to keep that mortar out of the water until we are ready to apply it." An exasperated sigh escaped his lips.  Titus could hear faintly in the background someone saying that they were ready to apply.



  Philimon turned to face Titus, "You've just finished the first hall? Oh well, I guess I can't have expected any better from a beginner, how did they work?"



  "Most of them worked perfectly; the first one on the right side and the eighth one on the left made funny sounds, but I hadn't encountered any problems." Titus rapidly remembered.



  "You've got a good eye for detail, the eighth left and first right, correct?" 



  "Aye" Titus affirmed, "is there anything else you need me for?"



  "No, you may go home."  He said walking off, "you're not ready to apply the mortar till all the stones are ready for the placeme..."  Titus was already leaving the conversation far behind.  He was going to explore the new keep. 

 

"Pwhhhher" a horn sounded in the distance; curiosity compelled Titus to see who it was announcing.  A rich carriage was rolling up to the castle with several others trailing behind it.  The horn sounded again; the sound was announcing that the king had arrived.  Titus stepped out into the road and bowed as the carriage rolled past with the others who were in its wake.  Another carriage was slowly rolling up.  Titus couldn't help but peep up to see who was in it.



  The picture instilled instant fear into his heart.  The man was wearing all black clothing; he was bald and he had a huge scar all across his face and head.  It was not the appearance that frightened him; it was the knowledge of who he was.  He had heard of the scarred man who was the only known mage; this mage served only the king, punishing those who angered the king by taking away their sight forever.



  Cold awareness told Titus that was he caught, he would lose his own sight forever, without possibility of redemption.  Killy must have known he would come; Killy knew everything.  Why would he send him on a task like this?



  All but two of the carriages had already passed him; one of them was just another of the nobles which was accompanying the King. The other carriage was all white.  He didn't need to look in it to know who was in it.  The only man to ride in a white coach was Khato, one of only five known white-blinds in the land.  Khato, the closest advisor to the King was` respected by everyone.



  When he was a child, Titus had wanted to be Khato; after he had realized that that was a nearly unattainable goal he had turned the opposite way, giving free reign to his own desires.



  By now it was too late to explore the castle. Tomorrow was another day, so Titus headed home, troubled by the arriving company.



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  "Master Jephro," Titus asked an hour before noon. "May I go early today?"



  "Why?" Jephro asked.



  "I have someone I need to talk to."  No other excuses were offered. 



  "Very well, but I expect you to be here early tomorrow."



  "Yes sir."



  Titus needed to see Killy, call off the project, and get back into his normal routine.  He went straight to the Jackal hideout. Killy was over in a corner in an obvious black-blind state.  "Killy!" Titus yelled, he hated to see his leader in this condition.

  "Aye," The voice showed a hint of heavy drinking.  the stimulants would temperarily give extraordinary sight but for a while and then take a terrible toll.  He'd had some several times, but not often.



  "Did you know who came with the King when you sent me to meddle in their affairs?"



  "Titus, is that you? Yes, I knew.  I expect you to find a way to get it, regardless.  And if you can't.  You aren't fit to be a Jackal."



  Even though Killy was confused, Titus knew that his threat would be carried out if he didn't.  So Titus was left with but one choice, he would go on with the theft and do his best not to be caught.



  He left his meeting place without even saying goodbye. 

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  Titus had tested another three halls of checking the torches before Philimon had dismissed him.  He did not go home; he started wandering the new halls of the keep at random, hoping to find where this bush was at.  His sturdy boots seemed to echo as the only sound in the world to him.  Eventually, he came to a hallway where two guards were at a closed gate of some sort. 



  Titus advanced slowly, "Hallo," he said. The guards looked up at him



  "What are you doing here?"  Their voices were gruff and angry sounding.



  "I'm a worker of Philimon, and he told me to get a mallet," the lie dimmed his sight, but he couldn't wander halls forever, "isn't this supposed to be the craftsroom?"



  "No, that room's back the way you came near the entrance." The dry remark also seemed to make Titus' mouth drier,



  "Oh, what's this lead to?"



  He had done his best to sound ignorant, he hoped that he would be believed; the guards bought it. "A garden," one said; the other snickered.



  That confirmed Titus' thoughts; he wouldn't be able to steal it early, he would have to wait until the ceremony. "Oh," he said to the guards and cursed under his breath as he walked away.



  A small sound reached Titus' ears after he had gone a little ways.  He turned around hoping that it wasn't those guards deciding they needed to interrogate him.  But the sound was in front of him.  Someone was saying something.  Titus slowly and stealthily crept towards the sound; when he could hear well enough he stopped and attuned his ears.

    "... Go to the King again.  You're the one closest to him.  Make him condemn the plant."



  The second voice was strong and old, "I've tried; the King is still too giddy over the elixir's effect.  He won't listen to how bad it would be for the kingdom."



  "You mean he won't even listen to Khato, his wisest councilor, a white-blind?"



  A third voice came out, almost hushed, "It would be easy to imitate a Khato using lenses; maybe the King suspects you of such treachery."



  "I saved the village Grheu, anyone there can tell you that, and they would just as easily tell you I've been blind ever since, so don't doubt it.  The King doesn't." Khato's voice grew more saddened, "The King doesn't care for wisdom or the wellbeing of his country these days; he cares only for his own amusement.  It is a sad state that our monarchy is in."



  "But you have been training his heir in wisdom, have you not?" the first voice said.



  "Yes, and prince Mathew seems very responsive, but I am disheartened that it has even come to that; even this is no guarantee for the future.  He's too young to know for certain."



  "We must find some way to destroy that flashplant.  When we were founded it was for eradicating the sources that would allow the way of sight to be challenged.  Several hundred years ago, our predecessors finished burning the last of the flashbushes.  We all know that the world was a madhouse before that, so our group was founded for the military aid that would end the corruption that polluted our life before.  Since the begining of time magic affected our sight to keep us in check, we cannot stray from the original way."



  "We no longer have the means to wage a holy war; the whole of our group is now less than sixty people."



  "Khato," said one of those there. "You could use your influence to stir more people to our cause; like you said, you saved Grheu, would they not now follow you to death?"



  "Aye, I could, but the people of Grheu are carpenters, farmers, blacksmiths; I would not send them weaponless to death against seasoned soldiers of the King."  a huge sigh shuddered through his entire body.



  "It would appear we can do nothing against this.  Chaos will rise again; we can only hope that a new society will emerge afterwards."



  "I am doing all I can," said the Khato, "I wish it were more."



    "I know," the last voice was barely above a whisper.  The voices faded away; Titus was left with his own thoughts as he made his way back home.



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  "You were out late," his father said to him when he got back. "The sun was down over two hours ago."

  "I know." Titus replied as he went straight to the spot where he slept.  His parents let it go, unsure what to do, because Titus had never acted as he was acting now, never had no excuses to say.



  Late that night Titus lay on his back, fingering the Jackal marking on his hand he branded himself, there had been pain, but his new friends had assured him that it was necessary.  It was actually a coyote picture that the gang had got from some long bankrupt guild.  That night Titus lay wondering whether the price paid for the mark was worth it.



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  "This word?"



  Titus dutifully looked at the rune that Jephro had laid in front of him.  "Victory," he said.



  "Yes!" Jephro was exultant.  He stood up, "You have definitely improved.  All right you may all go now."



  All the pupils dispersed, Titus stayed behind.  "Master, I just wanted to thank you for giving me a second chance."



  "Hogwash, boy! You gave yourself the extra chance." He thought for a moment, "But thanks for appreciating me."



  Titus left; the rest of the week was the most vision-filled that Titus had ever had since sight effect began to work on him.  He still couldn't see red, which saddened him because red was his favorite color.  Every other color seemed vivid.  He had made some mistakes during the week, but now even his parents trusted him; the most sight he had ever saved was two days at most, after that mother and father seemed to think that perhaps he was now honest.  He actually looked forward to his lesson now; his written vocabulary was now at least a hundred words or more, but he saw this only as a chance to heighten sight for his theft, which was now this afternoon; he shuddered.



  He had helped Philimon every afternoon; afterwards he scouted for other ways to this 'garden.' As far as he could tell, the room had four halls leading it, each with two guards each. That had cost him four lies, four huge drops to his sight.  He had to work extra hard to get it back.  There was no way to it until the ceremony at which the discovery of the flash-plant would be announced.  Gwerald would then be given, by the king, rights to sell the elixir that it made.



  This afternoon he would work with Philimon some more, he would actually do something different than fires today, so he had promised.  At dusk he would be released to watch the knighting, which was also when the King's Mage would set out a ward to drop the sight of anyone unauthorized to come near the plants.



  The same men he had listened to that one night had met every night since, but they arrived at no new conclusions.  That made an easy chance for a young boy named Titus to learn all that he did.



  He had meant to stop by home, but with the excitement he just went straight to the keep to start his work.  Philimon was in a fit.  "No, no, no, the stone is too far to the left, what did I tell you?"



  "Ah, Titus, I need your help working the mortar today, all you have you do is mix it."  Philimon had the knack for being loud to those around, yet he never yelled if Titus was close enough, no matter how he had startled him.



  "All right." Said Titus and he went straight to work.  The wet mortar was thick, heavy strokes withered strength like a giant stone crushing him.



  At a little before dark Philimon boomed out, "All right the keep is done, and a very good job to all of you."



  Titus was glad to finally be done. He went straight to Philimon to see if he needed anything else done.



  "No, not today, relax, enjoy yourself, if you accept, you'll have plenty of time to work with me as my apprentice."



  Titus didn't know what to say, "Uh, I'll think about it."  He hadn't expected to be chosen, normally everyone hated him.



  Philimon was content with that answer, and told Titus, "Go home, then, and talk to your parents about it."



  Titus went home, but he said nothing to his parents.  He cleaned himself up for the ceremony; He wanted to be early if he could.  His parents were ready to go with him when he was finished.



  "Did Philimon say anything about whether he'd hire you?" his father, always curious about his job it seemed asked.



  "He said that if I accepted, he would accept me." Titus didn't want to discuss the matter further, but he ended up telling his father that he would accept it.  His sight didn't dim as much as he thought it would, but Titus himself was unsure what he would do about it, he felt like taking the job and not at the same time.



  He entered the keep with his family; he already knew the way to the chamber but allowed himself to be escorted there with his family.



  It was indeed a garden, plants were everywhere.  Titus' heart sunk how was he supposed to tell which of the plants the flashplant was.  The center of the garden held the King and his men, the Mage was also there, Titus noticed, his heart sinking even lower.



  Something caught his eye; in one of the plants was a red flower, Titus saw it clearly now, after all his work, he was finally rewarded with the sight of red.  It wasn't a joyous moment; Titus saw more red than he had wanted.



  In a vision: crimson red flowed from the wounds of men all fighting, Jephro's body was among them, as were his parents, Philimon, and every child he had ever seen in his lifetime.  Red were the tears that children now cried.  Red was a flame that consumed the world.



  Titus tried to shake off his vision; fire was clear, never red.  His parents were standing fine and alive, as was every one else he knew.  All of this didn't help shake off the things he was seeing.



  He could see Killy talking to someone else in the distance.  He looked at Titus and Titus looked away.  With men like Killy having flash elixir, Titus knew, his visions would come true.



  He could not let that happen.  While he hadn't before realized how much he loved his people; he now knew.  And a beautiful sight with a reddish tinge warmed his eyes.



  He had to find a way to destroy the plant, for he now knew without doubt that the plant with the red flower was the flashplant.  Fire!  He searched franticly in his pockets for a flint that might have been forgotten there.  Cursing, he found one; he looked at it for what seemed an eternity then turned to the plant and ran towards it. 

  Titus was oblivious to the world that was around him.  The Mage saw him and worked his magic.  Everyone was now watching, the King was screaming at him.  His parents and everyone else he knew looked strangely at him.



  Titus focused. He cracked the flint but it was getting blacker and blacker and blacker. He cursed loud enough for everyone who was in the garden. He could not see even the faintest blur, but he kept trying, even as rough hands were now trying to push him away.  In a last struggle he shook everyone off and struck once more the flint to stone.  He couldn't see anything then suddenly a white flash sprang up before his mind. The light was too bright and Titus dropped unconscious.



  As Titus dropped, so did the Mage whose own spell exploded in his mind.  Everyone knew and saw these things.  The guards took Titus to the dungeon; guards came to take the Mage to the Physician.  No one saw that a clear blur had taken hold of the plant and consumed it totally.  It took root and spread to the whole keep.  No one saw that, but for one man who was gifted for sight for this one moment.  Khato smiled.



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  Titus saw nothing but white. The white was pure and spotless; he didn't understand it.  He heard voices in the background as he fully awoke.



  "Son!" a voice came out of the light.



  "Father, I can't see you!" Titus' voice was frantic but another voice, soft as stone counteracted it. 



  "So you have awoken, Khato."  The voice seemed familiar, but Titus couldn't fully recognize it.  "You are now as me." It said. "Welcome to the realm of the White-blind." 



  "Where am I?" Titus couldn't see but the voice that belonged to Philimon explained.  He was in the dungeon, in a cell full of people interested in Titus' wellbeing." 



  Khato explained what had happened during the ceremony through what he saw.  "it may seem like no reward to lose your sight, but honor and trust will make others see from you now.  I'm confident that you'll see all you really need to."



  "Luckily no one got hurt."  Jephro said.  He had come to say goodbye for the last time.  He was going to travel to the next village to teach.  "I'll never forget you though."  A tear was on his face, Titus could tell that without seeing it.



  "It took us a year to make that keep, and you took thirty minutes to burn it down."  Philimon was laughing in jest.



  Everyone was glad that he had burned the flashplant; no one had wanted to reopen the mad times. 



  "The King of course," the senior Khato said, "wanted you to be condemned to blindness forever.  I convinced Aerl to say that you were already that way."



  "Who's Aerl?" Titus asked.



  "Oh, Aerl is the King's Mage.  He didn't know what happened when the white-blindness expelled the black-blindness he was imbuing you with.



  Killy did not show up to see Titus.  but he did not care any longer one bit about what and who he had forsaken for goodness.  Titus would be allowed out of the dungeon when the King was gone.  Philimon still was willing to take him.  "He'll not be able to do what I wanted him for but I can still use him for other things.  Everyone was proud of Titus, and Titus was proud of himself.