THE LINEAGE : Part I

The snow slowly fell. A group of fur-covered villagers, tucked together, stared at the fire. It gave them a sense of security from the creatures that hunted nearby. The oval houses were a testament of yore.

The one nearest to the fire, looked with weary eyes in the surrounding area and into the rest of the group. Everyone had hard faces, beaten by the wind and constant weather. Silence. The night was long. Silence. The oldest in the group, a grey-haired man, sat with his legs crossed and looked at the flames that danced their cheerful dance.

"What truly happened? How did we came here, to this place of all places, in the middle of nowhere?" asked the second nearest to the fire.

"Depends on your point of view," said the tall woman, the third nearest to the fire. "I don't see it like that."

"You never do," he replied.

"Why would I?" she looked at him, eyes open wide.

"There is always more to see," he stood up.

"I never had that exploring spirit in me," she moved her head.

The first man was silent. With a fixated gaze he looked at the other two.

"It is clear that you don't have that spirit in you," the second one continued. "And what is more clear is that you want to leave this place and explore that rest of this island, let alone the rest of the world."

"Why would I?" the woman shook her head, "what is there to see?"

"Everything…"

"First you have to cross the mountains that surround us on all four sides and after that the dunes, the ash lands, the temples, the great mushrooms and only after that you are at the sea."

"..."

"Enough," the old man finally said. "I was long ago the same as you. I too yearned and had the fire in my heart to explorer the world and find the mask of Tailen."

"The mask of Tailen?" the first man moved.

"Yes."

"How is that possible?"

"Everything is possible in this world."

The fire danced, smoke changed shape into a tall red-headed youth with the coldness of the realm in his eyes. His face was emotionless.

Across broad shoulders, above the red-gold embroiled coat, a ornate belt, with a lion head buckle, hung. Above the belt appeared a hilt of strange curved single-edged sword.

"This was well before his time, when the mask was created." the old man moved the decorated runic buckle forward. "Long before his time."

And the story began.