The Son of Zeus

He introduced himself. George Kairos. "Kairos?" I asked, "as in the opportune moment?". He smiled, pleased that I knew the word. Yes, It's Greek he said and added, "It also means the son of Zeus, the god of opportuity." We became quick friends and that was lucky for me. As generous and welcoming as Kirlin had been, without George's approval, I could not have crossed through the Gateway of Dreams. His smile was bright, his sense of humor guarded but accessible. He watched over everything in the village from his high-up perch perimetered by windows. It was his charge to see that all sorcery was of the highest variety, ...well intended, with goodness as it's outcome. George taught me much. I had long loved fishing and crabbing and rowing boats but I had never depended on them for food, until now. As it grew harder to leave Grassy, the more important the fishing became. I adapted his tricks for water catchment, cooking, heating and generating electricity. He treated me like family. When he disappeared for long stretches, he did so without saying goodbye or telling where he had gone. I suspected he was able to step between worlds. Everything about him was old-world. He did not age, even after many years, I saw no change in his appearance. He wore the same clothes everyday which never soiled. He called me in to sit with him one evening during an exceptionally beautiful sunset. He fell asleep in his chair and his spirit took flight. I walked down to find Kirlin, when we returned, he had vanished. I never did see him again.

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