Chapter One

Laughter and Lore

I came upon a strange man on quite a strange day. Strange it was, that these people were smiling and laughing, while the clouds above them swirled in anger and impending storm. I shivered and tightened my hold on my light cloak when I saw them. Such strange behavior tends to make one cautious and alert. I searched for the warmest and dryest building in the city, and found it in Boissonsetmort, right in the middle of the town.

On this very strange day I entered the pub, and took a seat in the back, and covered my face with my damp cloak. I had no wish to be seen, only to do the seeing. There was the usual crowd: the drunks, the nonentities that are common at any pub, no matter where you are. I scanned the area, and waited. It was only when I leaned back in my chair I noticed I was not alone.

"Welcome, stranger." I this heard whispered in my ear as I jumped back in shock. A few men looked my way, and my gasp of shock turn into a hiss of anger.

"Leave me," I growled, reaching for a weapon, any weapon. I came up with a spoon.

"Leave us to dwell in our happiness," said the voice. It was a weathered, weary voice of an old man. A man that has seen better days.

"I'm not leaving," said I, "I have business here."

"The treasure belongs to no one, and certainly not you."

I brandished my spoon, and threw it in the general direction of the old man. My hopes for a cry of pain diminished; the spoon simply crashed the floor. Now more people were looking at my lonely corner.

"It could be mine by right of conquest," I muttered angrily.

"Young man, do not be so foolish. Not even I could dream of winning that hoard of riches, if I wanted." he said softly.

"I have papers."

"You have nothing."

We lapsed into silence. Around us, the sounds of laughter and drinking filled the air. A man snaked his arm around a woman, who promptly slapped him in return. A heartbroken lad ordered another drink.

"You don't know one wit about this treasure, even it's name" the old man whispered after one minutes. I desisted my casual observing and jerked my head in his general direction. I still could not see this mystery man.

"I know of it's name," I retorted, "The Treasure of the Lost Kings"

"Kings are hardly lost, as long as they are not forgotten," said he, "Would you perhaps like to hear of this treasure's true title?"

"Tell me, if you're so certain."

"Aevum."

"Is that all?"

"It is never all."

"I tire of riddles, tell me the tale!"

"So there is a tale involved after all?"

At this point I was annoyed by the old man's drivel. I longed to storm from the table, and leave this place forever. But I am human after all, and the prospect of treasure and riches held me fast to the crude wooden chair.

"Tell me," I said through gritted teeth.

"Would you like a drink first?"

"Get on with it!"

Through the shadows of my corner, I finally saw him. Not as a whole, just his eyes. They shined gray- no, gray didn't seem the right word. Silver. His eyes were of silver color, round spheres of metallic wealth. I looked into those eyes and shivered. He could see my very soul, listen to my deepest thoughts. Though I longed to break it, I held is gaze until he retreated once more into the shadows.

"Once upon a time..."

"In a galaxy far, far, away, just get on with it!"

"Once upon a time," repeated the man stubbornly, "There was a young girl."

He paused, and once again flashed me that freezing stare. I blinked.

"There was a young girl." he repeated, "A young girl who loved her family very much, though her family never loved her in return..."