Chapter 34: The Strange Pot
He stepped into the room and began looking around for anything unusual, but to his disappointment, there was nothing. The room held only a small bed—just big enough for one person—and, at the far end, what looked like an old pot.
The Shrouded One knew the room looked spotless, but he was certain it held secrets. Why else would the Master restrict access to just him? He found nothing useful, but he wasn't ready to give up. His eyes fell on the pot. Maybe it held a clue. With hope, he approached—but again, disappointment. The pot was empty.
He sighed in frustration.
Still, he decided to remain in the room until his brothers' worries calmed. Perhaps in that time, he'd uncover something himself. With that, he resolved to get rid of the shabby-looking pot. He lifted it—it was as weightless as expected. Clearly empty.
Across the hallway, the Master heard hurried footsteps and stood to check. Never in his long life had he imagined the day would come when the Shrouded One would try to throw away that pot. That could not happen. The pot had to stay.
"Little 9, where are you taking the pot?" the Master asked.
"I've decided to stay in this room for a while, so I'm getting rid of things I'm not comfortable being around," Little 9 responded matter-of-factly.
Not comfortable being around? The Master thought, but kept his thoughts to himself. All that mattered was stopping the pot from being discarded.
"You can't throw that pot away. It's not just a pot."
Not just a pot? Little 9 frowned. "What do you mean it's not just a pot?"
The Master immediately realized he had said too much. Flustered, he tried to recover.
"I mean… that pot is important to you. Sentimental. You can't throw it away."
"Since it belongs to me, you shouldn't have a problem with me throwing away things I no longer find important. Or at least let me put it in storage. It's an eyesore," Little 9 pushed.
"Absolutely not!" the Master snapped, startling the Shrouded One.
Why such a strong reaction? Little 9 wondered. Does this pot have something to do with what happened to me?
Realizing his overreaction, the Master softened his tone. "What I mean is, you always held that pot dear. That's why you restricted the room's access—to protect it."
That explanation worked. Little 9 gave up the idea of discarding the pot and returned with it in hand. Deep down, he now realized—this was no ordinary pot. The Master's reaction hadn't been without reason.
A spark of hope flickered in his chest. This pot—whatever it was—meant something. The Master's reaction hadn't been exaggerated. It was genuine… maybe even fearful. Little 9 stared at the pot in his hands, the smooth surface cold and unfamiliar. What secrets are you hiding? He wondered.
He didn't know the answer yet.
But now, at least, he knew where to start.