Douglas Niles - Fistanadantilus Reborn

"Let's go see who lives there," said the lad, gently nudging the mare into the shallow ford.

To His Excellency Astinus,

Lorekeeper of Krynn

Excellency, as you have requested, I have tried to recall my specific impressions as the matter of the skull and stone came to a head.

The two young humans departed, and I saw them riding into a pastoral realm. Both orphans, they left little behind, and I knew they would prosper there. The knowledge gave me some comfort as the mountain continued to shudder around me. The kender I never saw again, but I presume that he fared well. He had much of the survivor about him and was at least freed from the terrible burden he had unwittingly borne for so many years.

In the shattered debris of the destruction, I saw the figure of a mature, dignified man approaching me. He was dressed all in gray, and by this I immediately recognized Gilean. The god of neutrality held up one hand, disavowing my initial intention to kneel in reverence.

"You have proved your worth many times over, my faithful chronicler," said the benign image. "Know that you have proved yourself capable of serving in my priesthood should you wish to return to the monastery."

"Should I wish…" I was puzzled until, after a moment, I perceived what my lord had already recognized. "And if I do not choose to make this choice? Suppose my destiny is not to be found in the priesthood?"

The old man smiled. "Then I have other work for you. Important work, and it is in an area for which you are well suited."

I waited.

"You must go to Palanthas, and thence to the Great Library."

I felt my heart quicken, for there was no place on Krynn that offered such excitement and opportunity to a dedicated historian.

He reached down and picked up a silver hourglass from the floor-an object I had failed to notice before, though it was midway through the course of its sands- and he offered it to me.

"You have earned this. It is an historian's treasure, a priceless tool that will allow you to travel into the realms of the past. There you will be able to observe history as it happens, to ride the currents of the great river through its course."

"My lord, I am not worthy of such a treasure!" I was aghast, and powerfully moved by the awesome responsibility inherent in such a treasure.

The god waved aside my protests. "My chronicler, Astinus, is in need of a skilled field historian, a researcher who can travel abroad in the world, not only in this time but also in times past, and report accurately upon that which he discovers."

"But, my lord…" I was indeed humbled by the honor but could not believe myself worthy. "Have I not failed to display the level of objectivity, the dispassionate aloofness, that is the creed of the true historian?"

"Bah," Gilean said with a soft chuckle. "Aloofness is much overrated. No, my son, you have learned that the true historian must become a part of his story, else he will inevitably fail to understand the underlying truths of the tale."

And so, Excellency, I arrive at the Great Library and await your commands.

In devotion to the truth,

Foryth Teel