[Morai]

Harlon himself found his long life flashing before him:

In a distant past, there appeared an image of a elf that looked no more than the age of five. Dressed in the usual elven outfit, but he had rare carrot colored hair. Running among the Golden wood, he tumbled into a nearby tree. Suddenly the dizzy lad found himself in the arms of his mother.

Her words could not be heard, but they seemed to be chastening. The young elf hung his head as his mother dragged him home. Then he looked back, and the dreaming Harlon realized he was seeing himself.

The image blurred, and it was replaced with a slightly older Harlon. He was kneeling before a grave. Alone, the elf let his tears flow from his eyes. Tracing his long fingers on the leaves of a flower growing the displaced dirt.

Once again the image changed. It was Harlon the Fool enertaining the elven children. He danced among them, often pulling himself into the trees. They would laugh, and beg him to sing too. After Harlon finnished his performance, every young one ran to their parents, begging them to give the fool his meal.

Mist flowed before his eyes, as Harlon felt water. It was an endless gray ocean, with a dim sky above. His body was numb to all but the flow of the sea. The water was surprisenly quiet. Out of sky, or perhaps the sea, a voice bellowed

"Harlon Nowane, it is not your time. Fight, fight for you life. It is not your time. Let only your body rest now, but force your soul to live. It is not your time." The voice vanished, leaving him to float on an endless grey sea.

[ April 11, 2003: Message edited by: Morai ]