Chapter 2

As Caelan stepped off the Bridge of Awareness, the air itself seemed to be holding its breath.  Something was waiting for him.

A stone fountain stood in the clearing ahead, water sparkling in the sunlight like liquid diamonds.  But it was the figure beside it that made Caelan catch his breath.

The old man, hunched slightly, with long silver hair spilling over his shoulders like rivers of moonlight. He wore a simple robe, frayed at the edges, and cradled a wooden staff that looked older than time itself.