Possessing the Grimstone - By John Grover Page 0,3

games? You are almost eighteen, now. Almost a man. It is time for you to behave like one, and think about finding your place in this world. There will come a time when your sister and mother will depend on you.”

“You don’t understand, Father.”

“I don’t think you understand. The First People left us their gifts to follow in their purity. Must I remind you of the teaching?”

“Oh, by Thet, himself…”

“The First People traded their wings so that we may fish in the rivers and farm in the fields. It is because of them that we now span the fields in the blink of an eye.”

Pim rolled his eyes and turned over. “I need to rest, Father, I’m feeling sickly.”

“So be it.”

He listened to his father’s soft steps exit the room, and the door creak shut behind him. Outside his bedroom window, the stars danced about the night sky, and the moon grew round and fat. He had heard that the light of the stars moved faster than any known thing in the world. That was what he wanted: to move with the stars.

###

On the Red Coast to the east, Tolan of Cardoon rode among the rocky shore of the Fifling Sea, a beach devoid of life and vegetation, a barren red rock and rust-filled arm stretching from horizon to horizon. The red rock and rust sand gave the coast its name.

He looked across the water at the wall of clouds and mist that forever blocked travel and exploration of anything that existed on the Eastern Point—if anything existed at all. He carried his city’s banner with pride, the tip of it a razor sharp spear, should any trouble arise on his journey. Even so, there was always his trusty saber resting in its sheath at his side.

A gentle breeze stirred the banner and caressed his face. The clouds rolled within each other, never diminishing, ever moving toward land. It was as if the morning sun and wind had no affect on them.

Tolan had observed them over the years many times, and they always unnerved him, as if they were hiding something. He suspected that they were.

A low rumble of thunder caught the knight’s attention. He stopped his steed and waited. The thunder grew louder, and a flash of lightning rose from the sea to the sky. It was most unsettling.

Storms often formed over the Fifling Sea, but today it just seemed different. Light crackled inside the wall of mist. Tolan watched with interest, but soon the light faded, and the thunder dwindled.

He decided to report the activity back to the High Guard of Cardoon. It was probably nothing to worry about, but it was his duty as a member of the Circle Guard. Belonging to the Circle meant looking for threats or dangers to Cardoon on a journey every third week to the Eastern Point. Two members of the guard would take turns heading out of the city each week, splitting up. One would ride to the east and travel the Gravik’s Spade, a region of chasms and cliffs in the shape of a spade that cut directly into the lowlands, named after the farmers of Cardoon’s God of the harvest. Then they’d head through the salt lands, making their way to the Red Coast. The other rider would head north to the borders of Bhrungach, monitoring the on and off wars between the North and the South before heading past the Lake Lands to the Red Coast.

Each rider would pass the other and head back to Cardoon, reporting if anything was amiss. The lands of the west and far south were out of the jurisdiction of the city boundaries; they were ruled by the Wivering of Gonnish and the people of the M’illium Fells. The Fells were great mountains of magic where the warrior mages of D’Elkyrie made their cloud-capped homes. Between Gonnish and M’illium Fells, many rolling green hills sprouted with a network of rivers and marshes. Yagmire Hills was the biggest of these, and was home to many Wood Sprites and Gnomes.

Tolan rode on, galloping across the beach and making his way to the Lake Lands with its host of small villages and fishing towns. He wondered about the wall of mist and why it had always been there. What was it hiding? Was there anything beyond? No one had ever been through it. It was thought to be impassible. Not a single boat dared to sail into the wall for fear of never returning. Any trade