I
The theology students were a murder of cloaked crows, their white and black robes spilled over each other as they pushed and shoved and fought. Craning their necks and standing in their seats all to get a glimpse at the speaker. That day, not a single of the steep granite seats of the Northsalts lecture hall was empty. X was there too. He was the only one sitting quietly at the very top row, and although he looked asleep under the grey face his eyes shone bright with interest. When he’d first stumbled into the hall no one recognized him. It was the first time he’d attended in months. Since the start of the semester he’d grown thinner, lost hair and gained a gaunt, dead new face.

He reeked of the market and below his stained students cloak he was still wearing his gut splattered shirt. But, no matter how many sleepless shifts and pain-filled nights he’d endured he was never going to miss this guest. And so dreamily he listened to the hoarse stilted voice below him…

X ran through the corridor, his footsteps bouncing and echoing of the stone,
“Wait!” he cried
And the figure before him stopped, and turned. When X caught up with him, he bowed. Although he only reached to his waist X felt dwarfed by the monk, “Sir, my name is X X2, I study theology here, and I need to talk with you”
The monk attempted to smile, but his face, bloated and grotesque could only sneer, “About what, my son”
“The Island”
“What of it?” The sneer grew deeper
“I beg you, please, I know your ship tonight will take you there and I must come with you…to learn.”
“Was the lecture not enough for you?”
X dropped to his knees and gripped the monk by his soaked seaweed garb. “It was not nearly enough, I desire, no, I need. To sail there and see if for myself”
The monk lifted him-up firmly with a three fingered hand and asked gently, “Why?”

II

After he’d finished his hours at the fish-market X stumbled into the apartment feeling like a rinsed sponge. Only after he’d fallen into bed fully clothed, with his packed suitcase under his head did he allow himself to reminisce about the day. The lecture was particularly vivid in his mind but not nearly as much as the monk himself. To whom X had bared his anguish.