Pieces of Time
The Never Ending Quest - Episode 24707
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Time: in the Allarian Calendar the seventh day of the fifth month (in a
calendar with eight months to a year); in the life of a particular magic-
man, two weeks after flying off from Caemlyn in a basket held by the
talons of a great kite; in the life of a particular knight and Dragon-
Slayer, 36 days after he had helped kill the Dragon and found to his
astonishment his true Leige, Prince Cedrik - 35 days after discovering
that his companions had disappeared - 32 days after being reunited with
Velus and thence beginning the uprising within Trescent - 14 days after
being reunited with King Emry and playing the part of loyal knight only to
have the "King" speak the orders for his arrest and execution; in the life
of a particular hero, 20 years after giving up the title Lightbringer, 10
days after taking that title upon himself anew; and in the life of a
Prince long thought dead, 25 days after being taken in by nomads on the
Plain of Toulaine, 18 days after enduring a ceremony that has made
him "one of them," and only 5 days after truly being brought back from the
edge of physical death and psychological defeat. Time is a most
parrochial thing, its true import relative to each person thinking upon
it.
Bertrand had only been in Greyhawk for two days and yet he wanted desperately to leave. After long and exhausting reports, discussions and meetings all he wanted was the peace of his little home. But the Overseers were not about to let that happen. Not yet, anyway. "How many times am I going to have to speak my story?!?" whined the magic- man. "Why ask useless questions?" said the sorceress to his left. "Answer us and soon your ordeal will be over," said the wizard to his right. And so he began again; he spoke of how the shewing stones point to Lord Frederigo D'Honaire of Suffex of Allaria being a Harbinger for a Mistress of Evil, the 'little girl'. And so the Overseers began again; speaking of their lore, of their knowledge and learning, and of not having any sure tale of any 'little girl' with which to corroborate such a future-telling. Feldaer stood on a rise within his beloved land of the Duchy Hillton. He took a deep breath through his nostrils and tried to discern all the odors that traveled upon the breeze. Some were sweet, other pungent, but beyond the normal there was something else, something... rotten. Farther east a little girl was climbing a rocky outcrop. She wore a cloak that covered her body well, beneath which she wore a leather armor touched by protective magicks. Behind her followed a friend and servant. "C'mon, Sum," said the friend. "We can't be going like this all day, or atleast I can't, we've gotta rest." "Damnit, Wil," said the little girl. "You knew what I was planning, know what I have to do. I told you to stay in Califie, back in the Dale it's always sunny." The friend stopped climbing. "Summer! How can you say that?! You know what I saw in my candle, you saw the... the wampyrs rising up in the north." "And I told you I can handle it, Willow, I always have before." "You may be a demon-slayer, but you're not all-powerful!" retorted Willow. "I may not hike like you, may not camp out like you, may not even... you know... like you, but I can help, I can do things that even the mighty Summer cannot." The thirteen-year-old girl called Summer laughed. "Take it easy, Wil. I know what you can do... and I'm glad you're here with me." Astra, dead yet not dead, not alive but moving within this world with the strength and will of a hundred warriors, Astra was winding her way back through the duchies of Allaria, back towards the place of her death, the place of her rebirth.
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YY
3/8/2003 8:00:41 PM
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