Hexe - The Great Exodus

[CH. 0017] - The Little King and the Mage

Custa

Koos-tah

Type: Noun

Meaning: "Custa" is used in a literal sense to refer to coins and money in economic transactions. Metaphorically, it extends to the value attributed to an individual's existence or actions. The term embodies the idea that worth is both assigned and inherent, and like currency, it can be exchanged, saved, or invested in the potential of oneself or others.

_________________________

The objects before Xendrix lay silently on the table, each one a symbol, a riddle, a piece of a larger puzzle that he seemed desperately trying to solve. His gaze focused, then moved from one to the other, seeking the connection, the deeper meaning that eluded him.

The cup, a vessel of water, was clear to him. He explained it back to Mediah with no problem. It was more than just an element; it symbolised life, the nurturing and healing essence that flowed through all things. Water was the mother, the giver and the sustainer of life. He understood its significance, its place in the grand scheme of the elements.

Next, his eyes lingered on the dry branch. And once again, he was able, with his own words, to describe to the Magi. It was the personification of transformation. Something that illustrated a body which was once whole but now severed, yet still potent. A branch could become fuel for fire, a destructive force, yet it was a force that could never exist in isolation. The fire needed other elements and other allies to realise its true potential. The branch was a reminder that if in separation, there was no strength, it was a dormant power awaiting to be ignited.

The sword, forged in fire, was the antithesis of the branch. It was solitary strength, a weapon that could attack, destroy, but also, when wielded with intent, protect. The metal, shaped by flame, hammer and water, was a testament to the natural diversity of earth—destructive, yet capable of crafting defences, of guarding as fiercely as it ravaged.

But the coin... the coin seemed to be an enigma to Xendrix's mind. The prince was trying to grasp its connection to air and its significance in this array of elements. He turned it, seeking an angle he hadn't considered, a perspective that would shed light on its mysterious role.

Finally, he surrendered to the riddle, his voice defeated. "I'm sorry, Mediah... I don't get it," he admitted, his gaze lifting to meet the Magi seated across from him.

"The coin," Mediah continued, "is a vessel for value, much like the cup is for water. It's not about the physical form but about what it represents and what it carries. Value, like air, is everywhere and nowhere. It's what we breathe into things that gives them worth. A coin can be spent, saved, or given away. It's mutable, always in motion, like the air around us."

Xendrix's brow furrowed. He grasped the coin and held it tighter as if, by sheer will, he could transmute its meaning into something he could comprehend.

"And when you give something value, you charge it with energy," Mediah said, watching Xendrix closely. "That energy can build like a gentle breeze into a gust, or it can stir up a tempest. The coin, therefore, is not just currency. It's potential. It's the breath behind the words, the force behind the movement, the intention behind the action. It is as powerful as a storm and as gentle as a breeze."

Xendrix's gaze remained fixed on Mediah, eyes wide, the way a child gazes upon the world.

The young Magi leaned forward, "As I told you before, forget the objects; they are just temporary forms and shapes. They don't matter. The meaning does."