Moho (Part One: Rise of a Symbol) Read Online Free Page A

questions is one of my functions as your tutor,” she explains. “We use the term to refer to the period of human infiltration and the resulting outburst of violence on Persadia. But like the first time, The Spring freed us of the invaders by taking away their light. Unfortunately, some navees, especially —," she says. She suddenly turns pensive and adds, "young ones did get entangled in the disorder of the time and lost their lights as well.”
    I can’t claim that I understand all of it but the somber note she ends on signals me that this is not the moment to ask for clarification.
    “I don’t want you to misunderstand this and I liked it — in a way — but what were you doing when we met?” I ask and she frowns, so I add, “With your forehead?”
    “Oh, I see. This is the most common greeting on Persadia. We call it hongi. It means 'I trust you'. Or 'I open my mind to you'. It’s very easy to access someones mind when you're that close to it. Touching someone else’s forehead signals them that you are willing to let them know your thoughts, your memories, and so on.”
    “Interesting.”
    “Is it? I mean , how else would you greet someone?”
    “Depends. Shake hands, I guess.”
    “Shake hands? What a strange idea,” she says, before she holds her hands in front of her face and starts shaking them. “Like this?” she asks seriously and observes her shaking hands. “Ah, fascinating… what does it mean?”
    Wow. Where am I? Is this really happening? I let her shake them a little longer.
    "No, like this," I say as I stop walking, stretch my arm out towards her, and shake it a little. She looks at it, stretches out her arm towards me and shakes it a little next to mine but without touching my hand. Her helplessness is adorable and bewildering at the same time. So I grab her hand and squeeze it lightly to end this weirdness. “Like this,” I clarify and let go off her hand.
    “We didn’t shake our hands,” she complains.
    “We don’t need to," I say. To be completely honest, I forgot to shake hers because I was so distracted by her. "It’s more about the physical contact."
    “Physical contact? What would that be good for?”
    “Well, I mean, it feels good, doesn’t it? It makes you feel more connected to the other person.”
    “Connection through physical contact? Fascinating,” she says ,  and she even means it. “Moho, I must say, I have never heard of people like you. And you know so little about us. What part of Persadia are you from?”
    “None. I was created in The Spring and shortly thereafter Cosmo selected me.”
    “So you are a genius,” she says seriously, and gives me a look. It's a look that signals heartfelt admiration but also utterly unjustified expectations. “Excellent. You may end up being my tutor.”
    “Don’t get your hopes up,” I say.
    “Here we have another famous person.”
    “Yes, I am very famous,” I say seriously.
    “No, I mean him,” she says , and points towards an enormous statue. She didn’t understand the joke. My heart sinks. Embarrassing.
    I was so taken by her that I didn’t look around us. We are standing at the end of a small path leading from the dunes up to this statue.
    “Every single Springstone on Persadia was used to make this statue of Cosmo,” she tells me with a sense of pride. I feel my piece of Victor’s Springstone against my chest and wonder if I should tell her that there are at least two other Springstones but she is so happy staring at Cosmo that I choose not to.
    Cosmo poses as one would expect: legs apart, perfectly straight back, looking into the distance. His right fist is pointed towards the ground. His left arm is raised and his left hand is stretched out flat. It reminds me of how he took in the applause at the selection. His facial expression is friendly but there is something arrogant in his face. But it may also be my perception of him. What is undeniably too much is the size of this statue, easily three times