All the horrors you can imagine...then more on top of them. Wasn’t that what he had said about this place? How could losing my stories be my nightmare? How could I put my stories before my son? Before The StarQuest? What kind of mother was I? What kind of Fayr’Owyn was I?
Remember The MoonQuest.
The voice was Kumba’s. I knew it, even though I had never heard it.
Remember a moon that went dark for want of stories.
Remember a land that lost its soul for want of stories.
Remember a heart that lost its light for want of stories.
“What about Ben?” I shouted silently at the dragon. “That’s what destroyed the light in my heart.”
Had you let them, your stories could have rekindled the same light in you that they did in M’nor.
“Stories restored the moon. They won’t bring back Ben,” I argued stubbornly.
Are you so sure?
I said nothing.
Your stories are your legacy...to your son, to your companions...to your people...to your land. Your stories are your hands and feet...your bones and skin...your heart and lungs. Your stories are the blood and air that course through you, giving you life. Your stories are life. Without them you are barely alive. Without them you have barely been alive. You were alive, once upon a time, Q’nta. You can be once more...if that is your choice.
Is that your choice?
“I don’t know.”
It was, once upon a time...
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