“Whoa, backup!” I exclaimed, stopping Storyteller's story. “You said that the ‘horned pegasus’ was an alicorn, and now you're telling me it’s actually a dragon in the form of one? And if I heard right his title was also He of Hourglass. Forgive me if this sounds rude, but wouldn’t it make more sense for your characters to have separate names or titles to avoid confusion?”
As soon as I said that I knew I was in trouble for Storyteller’s gaze moved ever so slowly from the white fire to me. I chuckled nervously as I could feel Storyteller’s eyes bore into me again. Then I started to sweat as he walked right up to me and stuck his face right into mine. Even with his face right up against mine I still couldn't see inside the cloak to see who Storyteller really was.
“How perceptive of you.” He finally said after a very long and uncomfortable time.
I breathed a sigh of relief as he moved away from me. Then promptly passed out.
Oww, why does my head hurt so much? I slowly opened my eyes to see that I was still in that den that I was in earlier. So it wasn’t a dream...
“You passed out from all the excitement.” How can having someone stare right into your soul ever be exciting? I looked over to see that Storyteller was entering the den with a tray with what appeared to be a bowl of soup and water. He placed it on the table before backing a way to sit on a chair that he must have brought in when I passed out. “I made some herbal broth. It will help your dehydration and loss of electrolytes. You are too weak yet for any solids.”
It was a bit bland but not bad, and I was hungrier than I thought because I drank up the broth so fast that some of it dripped down my muzzle.
Storyteller chuckled as he took my now empty bowl. “I’ll get some more.”
As he left I shifted to get a bit more comfortable on the couch and that’s when I noticed the fire. The fire was no longer white. It was now a brilliant, bright blue color. Which only confirmed my suspicion that it was a magical fire. The question I now had was: What was the purpose for it, and why did it change colors?
Storyteller picked that moment to return and seemed to have noticed that I was staring at the fire as he mused. “Soothing to watch a fire crackling in a fireplace, or is it the fact that it’s neon blue now instead of white?”
I nearly jumped. The ability of this person to know exactly what I’m thinking was terrifying. I need to remember to never invite him to a poker night. Somehow I think Storyteller would win that is if he doesn’t murder us all first… But first, I needed to cover for my drifting off. “It’s not that, it's just there was something about the stain glass window that I forgot to ask earlier…”
“Oh?”
“The strange upside down triangle thing behind the Keepers...”
“Uh… yes… That would be Hourglass.” Storyteller answered as I lapped up another bowl of broth. “Well, technically Terra Hourglass. The city of Hourglass is… on top of what would be underneath the bottom if the mountain wasn’t upside down… I think I said that right…”
An upside down mountain? That’s impossible! I guess one of the theories that the stain glass windows were depicting mythological stories and not real ones seems to have merit after all. It also means...
“Damn it…” I cursed gritting my teeth in my anger. Those pompous idiots at the university were right… They laughed me out with my theories on the Crystal Castle and the Mountain town ruins on Canterhorn Mountain. My eyes teared up. “They were right… I am a failure… I...”
“ENOUGH!” Storyteller roared, shocking me out of my lamentations. “This is not History Seeker that braved the Untamed Wilds to find the answers he seeks. Buck up!” He slammed my broken compass to the table. “You wouldn’t have this otherwise!”
“That thing? But it’s just an ordinary compass and it’s broken…”
“Broken!? ... Broken!” Storyteller repeated, snorting. “Mwhahaaaaa,” He fell into uncontrollable laughter.
I could feel my face burn from my anger. I wasn’t happy about him slamming my compass on the table like he did, even though it never worked. But then he had to laugh about it? That went too far. “That’s not funny!” I grabbed the compass from the table and placed it back it my saddle bag. “I found that when I was just a young colt… I only keep it as a reminder of when I got my emblem.”
“Don’t you mean cutiemark?” Storyteller questioned, his head tilted a bit.
“Cutiemark is the old word for it… it’s rarely used by anyone under eighty…”
“Well that’s what I get for being a hermit.” Storyteller chuckled.
I stared at him in a mix of shock, horror and a bit of amusement. Hermit would be right. This guy is crazy! One second indifference, then rage filled, then laughing the next. Maybe, it would have been better to have died out in the desert…
Storyteller coughed, getting my attention.“Let’s get back to the Keeper War shall we?”