As he rises, the Soul Keeper’s cape flutters then flaps in a gust of wind. He smells spicy, like the leaves of the Spirit plants he’s been using to Heal me.
He doesn’t know it, but I already understand his words—only too well.
It is the empty chamber that makes a drum beautiful, or a flute melodious. Without emptiness there would be no music.
Emptiness is also what makes love possible. If a human being felt full and contented, he would have no need for love.
But at this late date, what does such knowledge bring me? I understand that I am now the perfect vessel. Waiting to be filled … but with what? Perhaps I just need a purpose. Any purpose, beyond simply dying and ridding the world of my presence, would be welcome.
“Do I have a purpose?”
Through hazy eyes, I see him watching me. “If I could Heal you, what is the first thing you would do?”
I wheeze the words, “I would seek her out, and strangle that boy before her eyes.”
He nods cryptically. “Despite what you would have me believe. You are not empty, Chief. Unfortunately you are still full.”
Full? Of what? I wonder as the darkness closes in around me. At first it is soft and gray. The world is fading as I fall toward … what?