84 Chapter 83

"The living of our lives is like weaving a colourful garment with seams of love and ire, taking fragments of fabric from various beings about us. The variety is exotic and the bonds are concrete."

~

The Grand Market Square,

Stone Streets of the City of Shillingston,

Kingdom of Tristendyre,

The first Saturnday of the Second month,

XXI Year of Regency

Michavel walked down the cobblestoned streets of the City of Shillingston, seeming much like one among the jolly common folks. He touched his pocket to ensure that the presence of a certain object was there, safe in his possession.

It was small and crystalline, carved in the shape of a horse from mane to bust and grandly vital to his being's worth.

The fair-haired man strode through the Market Square, granting nods and smiles to the passing gentlemen and winks to the children.