The Bloodstone Isle


Five suns away, an old man sat by the stream. He held a scroll of lambskin, he could not read it, but he knew the seal. He had recognized the seal. It was the only reason he had taken the scroll from the dead man’s hand. The old man could not remember his name, but he remembered the bearer of the seal. He was named Gerrin, a man almost as old as the world itself. How was this seal upon this scroll? The old man, whom the villagers lovingly called Babu, did not know what to do. Should he take this scroll to the Lady of the Isle? Already someone had died trying to reach her, could he risk it? Babu knew that Gerrin would only write to the Lady of the Isle if it concerned the Gods. He sighed, and rose to his feet. “Well old man, it is time you were of use to this land.” He sighed. Babu decided that walking through the village would be safer than taking the wooded path.

The End

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