When the man had finished his story, light had begun
to creep into the dark sky. The long night had passed and dawn was coming. Nothing
remained of the fire but smoldering ash. The storyteller lit his pipe once again, and
took a contemplative puff.
"So my story comes to an end for now. As time passes, maybe the story will continue?
Who knows, perhaps someday your names will be in my story?"
The morning sunlight came creeping forth
and I could sense an urgency that a significant
event was passing me by. It took an effort
to find my voice, and I dared to ask, "Who
are you? Why do you tell us these stories
and, and how do you know them all?"
The man wordlessly rose to his feet. As he stood up, he was growing in size! He seemed
a normal man while sitting, but now he was a giant, almost twenty feet tall - casting
a shadow over the entire party. His features remained indistinguishable beneath his
hooded cloak. Then slowly, subtly, he began to disappear! I can only describe it now
as a withering away at the edges, and then suddenly in a gust of wind, he was gone
like so much dust.
He did not tell us anything at the time, but now I think I know who he was. Disguising
himself to tell histories to the races of the world was exactly the sort of act that
would appeal to one who had existed since the beginning of the world. Perhaps even
to the one who had created humankind? |