"Oh yeah? Well I'm Shakti Devi! The Queen of Swords," shouted the little
girl, brandishing the stick she had picked up.

Her playmate, not to be outdone, cried, "If you're Shakti, then I'm
Elentari Danial, the Lawgiver!" With that she assumed what she guessed
was a wise and thoughtful pose.

The young orphan responded, "You big dummy, you can't be Elentari,
anymore then you can be Ourania."

Her playmate merely smiled.

"Well if you're Elentari, then I'm ... I'm ... I'm Servelan de Vermiis!"

Not to be outdone, the third young rascal piped up, "Well if you're
Elentari, and you're Servelan, I'm Maran La'Saen! I'm the Lion of
Creation!"

The two other orphans blinked, and looked at their male playmate
pityingly. This was, after all, Ashtan. Great man though Maran La'Saen
was (is?), he is not greatly admired in the Bastion of the North.

"Stupid! who wants to be mean ol' Maran anyway!"

"Yeah, you big dummy. Maran was a big meanie head."

The little boy was dumbfounded and chagrined, and his eyes started to
cloud over. Just then, a young man, an Occultist by his cloak, eased his
way through the crowds of Central Market. With a flourish and a smile,
he produced three lollipops from somewhere in his voluminous cloak. The
young orphans stood spellbound. Someone in the crowd sniggered.

With a smooth smile, the young Occultist said, "Leave off your games,
little ones. See, I've brought you all some candy." With a smile he
handed a lollipop to the eager hands of each of the young rascals. With
a beckoning gesture, he said in a low hypnotic voice, "If you'd like
some more, just follow me." With that he smiled and sauntered off to the
northwest. The orphans gave each other one questioning look, then easily
slipped through the crowds after the young man.

-Skarash Azon

Penned by my hand on the 18th of Phaestian, in the year 352 AF.