Kakoa swam for several hours, keeping up a rapid pace that ate up distance, until he reached the seaside home of the hermit monk. It was located on an island that had once been a sort of monastery of learning, but now his friend was the last soul remaining on a small rock filled with a vast wealth of knowledge. Seeing light in a window, he knew that the old man was still awake, even though the hour was late, or more like early, by the time he reached the island. He swam to a smooth ledge of rock that jutted out into the water, pulling himself up onto it as he called out to his friend. (No worries.)