looked up still afraid but in time to see his master withdraw an old
scroll from the chest. He dropped the chest, which tumbled down
the stairs and came to rest near Consus’ hands. The Gray Wolf
looked over the scroll. With every second the half-pleasant
expression on his face turned sterner, from incredulity to abject anger.
He hissed a long, slow hiss. A cold breeze seemed to touch Consus
and a chill ran down his spine. He feared his last moments of life
were quickly approaching.
is not it!” screamed Araknik. “This is a love
24, 1740 EQ, Cah Bel, Andril Region of Epi
Mancuso sat down on the stone bench grieving over the loss of the small
chest. Granted, it was only of sentimental value and not vital to
his mission, but still, it meant a lot to him. For a man driven
single-mindedly to redeem history, he did not allow himself many
luxuries. This was one.
poem was not for him, but for his mother written by his father. He
would never see them again and hadn’t seen them since he was nineteen.
Firesmyth Mancuso possessed few articles from those early years, and
this scroll was one of them. Over the years each of these articles
had fallen out of his possession like the leaves falling off of a tree
in late autumn. This recent loss served as a reminder that deep
winter quickly approached.
shook himself trying to clear the memory. “Face it, old man,”
he said to himself in his thick accent, “It is gone and has served a
Chapter 1: Treasures from the Past
Copyright 2001 by Darrell A. Newton, All
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Last updated: December 02, 2001.