"That is just Drusel resetting the light's pendulum weights," he shouted back. "The revolving lens is driven by a large clock mechanism. It has to be wound each night to last until morning. I will show you tomorrow." His shouts carried loudly as the clamor abruptly stopped mid-sentence. "Ah, there," he said in a normal tone again. "I will show you tomorrow."

The young Arab came through a door next to the hearth that led into the tower. Clovis called him over and introduced us. Drusel clasped my right hand with both of his and, like his brother, looked at the fresh black of the Embe. A white grin appeared under his young sparse beard. Clovis spoke to him and motioned to the iron pot he stirred. Drusel reluctantly let go of my hand and grabbed a bucket next to the hearth on his way out the back door.

"Does he know?" I asked.

"Know what?"

"About this," I said pointing to my tattoo. "He smiled as if he knew."

Clovis shook his head as he stirred. "They know it is a sign of something special, but they know not what exactly, though there is no scarcity of speculation. I should not think it unusual that they would treat you with the same curiosity and reverence as me."

"I noticed Nusel showed you quite a bit of reverence."

"Well I have lived in these walls for a long time, and because of that, I am a bit of an oddity to the remaining villagers. Drusel's grandfather did not know me in this body, but he did know me by this," he said, pointing to his tattoo with a wooden spoon. "To the villagers, the lighthouse has always been manned by a mysterious foreigner with the same mark on his hand. It is only natural for them to be intrigued by another one. They are a simple people Evan, beautiful in their simplicity. Being an object of curiosity and reverence seems an equitable trade for the pleasure of their company."

"Don't any of the other palingenesists visit?"

"Oh, not in a long time. My lifestyle is too, introspective, for most of their tastes."

"I noticed that about you. You seemed uninterested in the festivities of my Ascension. Why is that?"

"I look at things differently. I do not mean to sound pious, but there comes a time in your life Evan, when you realize you have done everything that can be done. Neither Bacchus' songs nor the sirens of the sea can captivate you as they once did. When that day came, I knew the time for simplicity was upon me."

"I find that odd. Some of the others told me they had tried that over the course of several lives but that it came to no end. It didn't work."

He set the spoon down and looked into the black iron pot. "That is true, but eventually you find it is all that is left."