In my time, I've tried to discover my past before the Portal of Fate, while I
worked hard on the future. I've heard many legends, but the bits of the
histories that I've had to study leave me with few answers, and many questions.
Strange dreams have plagued me, from those caused by the Dream Scourge that are
all too common, to others still stranger, some feeling almost real, some surely
impossible. But these dreams exist none the less, and they tell us things,
perhaps things about ourselves, perhaps things about the future, maybe things
to remind us of how precious the time all of us have truly is, and to take
heart to recognizing that which is good, and that which is dear to us, before
it is too late.

...

Father Sun's light filtered through the treetops, and birds sang in the
branches overhead. Beneath the trees, the air was cool, and the smell of spring
flowers had begun to sweep the hillside, as it is wont to do in season. The
little cubs played by the lake, splashing about in the water. Some, still small
enough to play with their little brothers and sisters, romped about the edges
and into the tree line, following one another about the roots of the Great
Trees and up the sides of their huge trunks. The elders shook their heads,
offering wise words of caution, while some caught fish in Bollikin's Tear. It
was a strange peace that we had found in this place, and things did not seem to
be disturbed at all on the surface.

Near the edge of the lake, Toelden, a large, black-furred tae'dae, took two of
the little ones upon his great shoulders in a lap around the lake, and the two
bubbled with laughter as they bounced up and down. The breeze swept back their
fur, slick and smooth from their play in the water, droplets rolling from their
tails, glistening in the sunlight which reached into the small clearing about
Bollikin's Tear.

In the life of these little ones, a life that my people have always sought to
protect, times did not seem so dire. The boy on Toelden's left shoulder,
similar perhaps in some ways to a fox, spent a good deal of his time with his
big brother, and a good deal of the rest chasing his young friend playfully
about the trees and inventing water games that they might play when the elders
didn't need to catch fish. The little girl cub, whose large, bushy tail most
closely resembled that of a squirrel, giggled at her charge, gripping the fur
of his enormous neck, about which she could only make it half of the way with
her salt and pepper flecked tail in her efforts to avoid falling off. This was
the limit of concerns, Toelden thought, young cubs ought to have.

After Toelden had come back from collecting, and had added a few fish to his
sack, he would visit the edge of the lake where the little ones would often be
playing. "Brother Toelden, come play with us!" they'd call, one skittering
between his feet. Toelden would stumble, being careful not to step on the
little furrikin's tail, while the other climbed up Toelden's leg and ran
dizzying circles about his shoulders. "Tell us a story, Toelden!" one would
call, the other echoing, tugging on his fur. The great tae'dae would chuckle to
himself, taking in a moment of mirth in the wake of his responsibilities. He
would begin anew the story he'd told them a hundred times if he had told it
once, and he would explain with a glimmer in his eye and with all of the
different voices and gesticulations that he could about how Bollikin and Tae
had been great friends, and had come upon Ackleberry as a desert, which he then
explained was a place filled with lots of sand which was like the kind near some
parts of the edge of the lake. "From this desert!" Toelden would exclaim with
the usual excitement, bounding about the gleefully squealing furrikin before
leaping upon the boulder that sat at the edge of the lake, "Here, beneath where
this rock lays now, Bollikin had proclaimed that this place would be a haven for
his forest creatures! As He rubbed his paws together, bristles of His fur fell
to the ground and became the thick, soft green grasses, as the awful desert
began to disappear." Here, Toelden would make a small mound of sand in the
grass, and follow by sweeping it away. "Grasping only a handful of sand,
Bollikin had blown softly upon it (which Toelden would then emulate for
effect), and the grains, turned seeds, spread on the wind over the land,
dotting the grasses with flowers. Now, not to be outdone..." Toelden would
pause, as he landed off the rock with a loud thud, and turned towards it, "Tae
responded in a bellowing voice, (Toelden using his own then) 'So be it, little
brother, so be it! I shall lay my blessings along with yours, may all of the
creatures of the woods find shelter here!'" Clearing his throat, Toelden would
continue, "From the very heavens, Tae threw this rock, which caused the land to
shake," and then the tae'dae would slam his giant fist upon the rock, and pause
as the furrikin gasped in astonishment, "Fragments of it shattered in every
direction - from these pebbles arose the Great Trees, so large that the most
powerful Elder had never been able to wrap his massive paws about one." "Then,"
he said, as he would climb upon the rock, "Witnessing what he and Tae had made
in the valley, Bollikin cried tears of joy, wiping out the desert and feeding
the earth. Finally, as his last tear came down, it filled the lake with water
so pure, it could never run out of fish." "Beside it!" he would delightedly
explain, "Tae had left the boulder, (which the children had taken to calling
"Tae's Fist,") as a reminder that He would always watch over this place, and so
goes the true story of Bollikin's Tear..."

After his energetic recital, the little ones would clap merrily, and Toelden
would smile and wave, calling that it was time he got his catch and the
collections back to Elder Agaeraes so the fish could be sent over to the cooks
and the honey stored away. Usually in a light mood on warm spring days, the
Elder was weary on this one. He was a kindly old tae'dae with white flecks in
his dark brown fur, and he would greet Toelden in the usual way, shaking his
head as the hunter had finished his story and began bounding up towards the
Elder's den. The Elder would then ask, once they were safely out of earshot of
the cubs, of course, from whence he had collected such tales, and Toelden would
smile... but it was not quite the same smile as it usually was. The Elder,
though on in years, still carried the magnificent strength of our people, and
easily swung open the towering mahogany door that marked the entrance to his
den and the place where the village kept its commodities. The door open,
Toelden headed inside and began to lay about the bounty he'd returned with for
the commune. "It couldn't be all so bad as the Elder suggested!" he thought to
himself.

After things were tidied and put away, the pair left the larder and took seats
upon the stone floor in the Great Hall, within which the wall sconces, once
holding torches, now cradled softly glowing orbs. They were magical trinkets
that had been gifts of the Holy Celestial Empire, "symbols of the Light" as the
Aquamancer emissary, a Merian by the name of Gillian, had put it. They had been
given long, long ago, on the day of trade agreements that had been concluded
with Ackleberry, which would take on the extra load of supplying the members of
an Imperial expedition with herbs. These strange orbs illuminated the expansive
stone hall, within which sat a long oak table, as well as the Seat of the
Elder, from which Elder Agaeraes and his predecessors would preside over
everything from private dinners to village meetings. Many aspects of Bollikin
were worked by the nimble hands of furrikin artisans in a panel crafted into
the stonework, that ran all about the rectangular hall just below the ceiling.
Beside Elder Agaeraes' chair were two intricately crafted statues - on the
left, a towering tae'dae stood with his arms crossed, an enormous battle axe
crossed over an equally mighty blade. On the right, a small furrikin warrior,
his eyes and gaze carefully detailed to give off an air of quiet but resolute
confidence, leaned lightly upon his staff, his sling held at his side.

"Please, have a seat," Elder Agaeraes said, gesturing to a place at the table.
"It is time for us to speak of the events of the last night. After you left my
den, our visitor did awaken, just before Mother Night had escaped from the
sky."

Toelden stood speechless for a moment, before slowly sitting. He had spent his
lighter time earlier in the day hoping that the strange visitor and the omen
that the Elder had spoken of were simply a bad dream, but this disappeared as
he was again confronted with the situation at hand. The Elder had known that
the forest seemed to be offering less than what had once seemed a limitless
supply of food - not because the creatures were not plentiful, but because the
forest itself seemed to be shrinking. For many years, Ackleberry had remained,
wherever it was that it had been removed, safe - cut off from outsiders friend
and foe alike, but within Bollikin's Tear there always remained plenty of fish,
and in the woods plenty of honey... there were deer for hunting and berries and
herbs to collect as there always had been. There was a boundary, it was known,
after which the trees grew thick and it was difficult to see, and those who
proceeded beyond it always found themselves back in the commune again, as if
they'd turned around and gone back exactly in the direction from which they'd
come. In the recent months, however, this boundary had begun to act
erratically... gatherers would encounter it in places they'd come to previously
for years without incident, and some reported that they had walked into it
accidentally, and only after several hours of moving forward, as they had been
told to do before, they arrived back, but entirely on the other side of
Ackleberry!

To make matters worse... two days earlier, the Elder had received an awful omen
- one of the mighty redwood, or Great Trees, had fallen. The crash was heard
within Ackleberry, and disregarding the oddities of the barrier, Elder Agaeraes
went to examine the rings of the noble tree to measure what future it had warned
of. Gasping, he had nearly fallen back upon a furrikin mystic who was assisting
him, before warning the startled little thing to run back to the commune
center, and advise everyone to keep their children near their dens until
something could be figured out about what to do with regard to the boundary,
for the omen had brought dire news indeed. Not asking any questions, the mystic
headed back to the commune center as fast as his feet would allow him to hop
there. Once Elder Agaeraes had returned, he revealed that he was given a
vision, and that the barrier might become dangerous, so until the mystics had
come up with a solution, the cubs should be kept near the dens and surplus food
from the larder should be used for the next few days. Later, in the confines of
the Great Hall that night, the Elder had spoken with the old champion of the
tae'dae warriors, whose duties had not been required since the Black Schizm,
that fateful event long ago, the details of which few still clearly remembered.
There, he confided in him the contents of the vision.

In this vision, the Elder had returned from the treeline near noon on a bright
spring day, not unlike the one they had the day prior, and one of the mystics
was in a bit of a fit - a young tae'dae mother stood, the light brown fur about
her eyes and her big nose matted by tears, weeping and calling out the name of
her son amongst a gathering crowd. He had, Elder Agaeraes related, scryed the
cub shortly after, but was for the first time unable to locate him, and the
poor mother only broke down further. There, the vision had ended. This much,
Toelden had known, for he was himself a great warrior, and the protege to Tae's
Fury, the affectionate name by which the warrior leader was known - only the
champion and his protege were permitted the entirety of the news, so as to
avoid a panic, and so they could be on guard for events that might lie ahead.
The commune had of course upheld its warrior tradition even in these peaceful
times, for the Tae'dae are a proud people, and they had wisely remained
faithful to the old ways. This would prove fortunate in the times ahead.

So much about what had happened, Toelden had known, and he'd been vigilant
without letting on his concern with the cubs as best as he was able. Just two
days after the omen was read, Toelden was keeping the children occupied by
Bollikin's Tear as he always had been, and talk of the barrier had quieted down
some amongst the young ones, at least. The older folk had faith in the mystics,
but they of course harbored a natural fear for their cubs, and this worry hung
visibly like a weight on the shoulders of many of them. It had felt good,
Toelden though, to have some fun with the cubs again, and it lifted more than
their own spirits. Now, though, Toelden's thoughts had come to rest on Elder
Agaeraes, and the events of the night before. A strange man had come... a
merian, in fact, from where he had not been able to say. His entire body was
concealed by a large, plain brown cloak he had been wearing when he was found,
after he had stumbled out of the edge of the woods and collapsed where Toelden
had found him. He was delirious, and medicine had to be brought in to calm his
fever enough that he was even able to sleep in the Elder's den, where the
merian was taken. His long blue ears were frayed and his once rich, silver hair
was splitting and dirty. His skin was a deep blue, but it was cracked and
scabbed in some places, for it seemed he had been traveling without any water
for perhaps even days. This much was definitely odd for a merian, but beneath
it all, his noble stature, strong brow and toned muscle was evident. His armor,
which appeared to be at one time a regal full plate, was reduced to a
mis-matched cuirass with scaled mail for the remaining pieces. Toelden had
suggested that the merian may've lightened his load for a difficult travel, but
not much could be said for certain before the visitor could be spoken to.

Returning his attentions to the matter at hand, Toelden fixed his gaze upon the
Elder, and prayed that the meeting would yield some good news. "Were you able,
finally, to speak with the merian, Elder?" Toelden asked. "No, but he did
finally speak to me." Agaeraes answered. "The merian muttered, sometimes in
fragments and sometimes together, in the course of the hour that he had
awoken... he said, 'We haven't much time. It will take both, I must hurry.' I
sat up with him through the night, and he changed only once... I know not what
dream he could have been having, but he began clenching his fists. He opened
his eyes, which focused on someplace beyond the ceiling. Sweat collected on his
brow, and he whispered harshly, 'Why can't I go back? WHY? Curse you, return
what you have stolen!' and then he looked at me... and for a moment, I felt
there may have been a brief moment in the fever that Tae had spared him, for he
seemed to truly look at me for a moment, rather than beyond me, and he said
simply, 'I must speak with the Elder.' Then, he was still once more, and has
remained that way since."

Toelden gaped in astonishment, as his mind whirled trying to put all of the
events together. The culmination of happenings over the past few days had been
great even for a tae'dae's wisdom, and he began anxiously pondering what it all
could mean. Before he could settle on anything, his leader spoke again. "There's
another matter I wished to speak with you of, Toelden, though I'm afraid I
cannot tell you the details now. There has been... another omen." He paused
briefly, allowing this to sink into the young warrior. "I do not know if I will
be able to remain with you all... If something should happen to me, you and the
champion will be in line to take my place. Remember that, our people will need
you if I go missing." "Bu... but Elder!" Toelden protested, unwilling to
consider such a thing would befall their chief. "You cannot be lost, surely we
have not been stricken with every omen that had been warned of before, there
must be something that can be done!"

Sighing, the Elder's voice came strained and weary from the long night with the
visitor, "Aye, that is true. But there are many things which foretell of much
trouble in the future. A Great Tree has fallen, and the mystics tell me that
the Great Spirits have not yet been able to help them find a solution to the
state of the boundary... they fear the Black Schizm may be failing, or worse,
consuming the forest. This cannot be allowed to happen... I sense I may need to
face this personally, and I want to make sure that the cubs, our fellow tae'dae,
and our little brothers and sisters will be cared for. There is so much at
stake, and the risks of not acting grow every day... I'd like you to make sure
also, for the time being, that others don't see him... the Merian, that is.
Many may not have any memory of ever having seen one, and it would not do to
cause a panic."

Toelden could see an uncertainty reflected in the eyes of the venerable
tae'dae, an uncertainty Toelden had never before witnessed. "There is yet
another thing that troubles me deeply about this one." There was a brief
silence, as the quiet gathered, stinging Toelden's ears. "What is it, Elder?"

"The merian has... no shadow."