The Realm Shift

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A stranger walked into the city of Emmanuel. The House of Nod, the family line of the king, resided here in this chief city of the Realm. The palace of the king, Leole, stood there surrounded by great, white granite walls on every side of the city. The southwest and northwest walls sat upon white granite cliffs, descending into the sea with the Bay of Emmanuel beyond, and the Royal Naval Armada moored at one hundred piers stretching into the clear blue waters of the Azure Sea.

Strangers of every sort commonly traveled here, but this man differed altogether from most. People recalled his appearance but not his name. He may have once been a great man, perhaps even a warrior, but their memories failed them. Folk simply did not remember with any accuracy.

Clouds prevailed on this day-thick, dark clouds fighting with the bright sunshine for dominance. The Old Storyteller, as we called him, regarded the weather with a slight nod as he sat at the King’s Fountain. We expected rain, but something in his expression said the struggle between the light and growing darkness concerned him.

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