Kantan was a little place to pass through, perhaps to spend the night, at the inn a pleasant woman ran by herself. She had just the one guest room, with an alcove where the visitor could lie down, head resting on a pillow left by someone calling himself a magician.
Whoever sleeps on this pillow, he had told her, will see, as in a dream, the whole of the past and the entirety of what is to come. Farewell.
That was some time ago. Right now she could see there was someone coming up the path; a student by the look of him.
She opened the door: Come in, she said.
I am travelling in search of the truth, he said, to find how I should conduct my life. I go from one thing to another. All useless, so far. But I have heard there is a person of great wisdom some way to the north of here, and now I need a night’s lodging before I continue to what may be the end of my quest. One night, if you have a room.
I have, she said. You may sleep here …
