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Posted by on 2000 May 5 |

Shards Die… Dull Color Matches My Heart…

(Crossing, Zoluren: 156 Shorka 361)

Chaelen slouched on the old tree stump, carving away at the thin piece of wood with a crude carving knife. People flocked through the flat of the town green, darting every other way.

Two Gor’tog stumbled into view, spiraling back and forth, each cluctching a different end of a purple shard. Chaelen only spared them a half-glance from under the hood of his flowing white cloak, shaving off a curl of wood.

"Gred," one fellow, more of a toglet by the smoothness of his face grunted, "You use last time! Give!"

The other, larger tog pushed the younger away onto his bottom. Taking out a dirty piece of cloth, he rubbed it rapidly, causing the crystal to shimmer from one color to the next.

"You always the runt, Beesgik!" the large tog laughed, holding the now grayish-orange jewel in the grip of his meaty hand. Grayish-orange… with a touch of teal… Chaelen had not seen it change that color before. "You always the runt, and now you won’t be famous for finding my treasure!"

Laughing thunderously, the large tog vanished in a plume of green smoke. Tears streamed down the toglet’s face as he rubbed his sore duff, rising to his feet.

Chaelen wasn’t really interested in any treasure right then. Or whatever this dispute was about. Still, it did not seem right. Reaching into a concealed pocket woven into his cloak, he tossed his own crystal shard after a gesture from his hand. The toglet caught it in the air.

"W,w…. what? Thank you, sir!" the youth exclaimed, scrubbing the jewel wildly with his own sleeve. The crystal eminated a popping noise before fading to a dull, colorless state.

Chaelen blinked. He heard the moon mages speak of some comet feuling all the traveling shards. Prehapse the thing had passed. "Sorry," he said, "I dont have any more."

There was not any dissapointment in the youth. A smile split that green face, widening into a hysterical grin. "Heh… heh… ha!! HA HA HA!! HAAAA!! YOU LIKE THAT, GRED??" the toglet cried out to the daylit sky. He must have been mad. "TRY GET OFF THE FLOAT ROCK NOW!! BWA!"

The toglet threw his arms up in the air and ran down the street laughing like a loon. Chaelen ran a hand through his hair. Float rock? Everyone has their own adventures, it seems. Wherever the youth’s companion had gone, it must have been far away. And it would be doubtful if he ever came back.