By John Loase
I had forgotten.
How could I have?
To forget such a thing.
Duke stood in a daze over the assortment of bones, his mind still reeling from the remembrance. It felt like but a moment since the bones had first found this home, and yet now, some two years later, he recalled, recognized!, what time had since been spent, what deeds he had since wrought, what other collections he had since formed of these pearls of white.
His ears perked up at his friend’s shout, the bones forgotten.