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The Silver Bullet
When he was just a boy he found something in his garden. A small momento, a silver capsule. The boy opened it up. He found nothing. Disappointed, he walked up the walnut steps and into his medium sized room with adequate shelving. He removed one of his old participation trophies and replaced it with the silver bean-like capsule.
He began to wonder why there was nothing in something so sleek. He inspected it further. He put the capsule under the tap and took an old cloth and scrubbed the remaining dirt from it. On the capsule he discovered numerous markings. The markings spoke to him in a language he did not know. The marks seemed random, but told a story.
On the bottom of the bean there was a small indentation. Almost like it had been dropped from some height onto a rock. The capsule itself held together but left a small scar of its experience. On the right side there was one singular scratch, from the top of the bean to the bottom. The scratch was insignificant, barely getting through the silver. It was almost as if someone scratched it with a knife or some bladed object. But he began to ask why?
He began to think that this was something that a person, possibly a traveler, had brought with them on their travels. How else would something have these random marks? The dirt he had pulled it from was soft, with no rocks or other impurities. He began his quest to find out who had previously owned the capsule and what had been inside.
He posted an ad on ebay for the capsule, hoping that someone might recoginized. His starting price was $20, an extremely large amount of money for a child. No one bought it. Down on his luck, he abandoned his quest.
For the next 7 years, the capsule sat in isolation along with numerous trophies, photos, and textbooks. The capsule got no intention from the boy, now an adult.
In August of that year, the boy was now getting ready to go to college and began to pack up his belongs. The light from the window carcessed the capsule and reflected the light into the boys eye. He took notice. Nonchalantly, he threw the capsule into one of his bags, just because.
The boy attended Oxford and studied history. While there he found himself in financial difficulties and went to sell some of his objects in his room. He found himself with the capsule in hand, thinking of whether or not to sell it. Since he thought the capsule had some historical significance, he brought it to the Oxford Library to exchange it for textbooks for the coming term.
Mrs. Cognitionis, the elderly librarian, with faded grey hair and those glasses that every librarian seemed to own, greeted him with a warm smile. “Jeremy, what can I help you with?”
Jeremy responded lightheartedly “I would like to exchange this piece.”
Mrs. C responded “Ah, a piece that I have only seen in the history books, where did you find it?
“This was Sir Bonitatem of Poland Spring’s capsule. It is rumored that he kept a holy drink within it”
The boy was now quite intrigued. He now knew that the value of the capsule was immense. He thanked the librarian and wandered into the library. The monetary value was something he kept in his mind, but now the curiorsty was something that consumed him. He spent hours in the library searching for an answer. Through all the journeys the texts had brought him, he was still not satisfied. He ventured in search of a mentor to guide him on his quest.
He walked into “Old-City” a streeterm for the part of London that deals with the buying and selling of antiquities. He found an old shopkeeper and showed him the artifact. The shopkeeper told him that he would take the artifact in exchange for a “blood token,” or a favor that would have to be redeemed no matter what. The boy questioned him.
“Why should I accept this when I can sell it for 50 quid?”
The shopkeeper explained methodically “This was a container kept by a legendary philosopher, he would drink absinthe from it as he wrote. I have his books in the corner if you want to look. As for the monetary value, the 50 quid would get you some drinks at the pub, but with a favor from me that ends are limitless. I can help you with anything you need.”
The now convinced boy accepted, he took the token from the man and along with a book from the corner.
Unknowingly, the boy had stumbled on a silver cup, and the fire inside of him relit, to find out why it was he who had found the cup.