After doing "The Gambler and the Psi," and while doing "The Hunt," I got a few questions about the mymar and the world of Absolin. I then felt I had to "color" the G&P universe a little more with some stories earlier in the world's history. This little tale wasn't the first planned, but it's a simple story that provides a little insight into the lives of the first generations who knew the pioneers only from books.
A story written by "Malestorm" was a partial inspiration for this, although the endings are quite different. Sadly, her website and stories are no longer online.
Special thanks to Saia Kfer, who has his own website, for his help with editing.
"Dylan!"
The young adult mymar jumped up from his sitting position beneath the tree, the book he had been reading falling down to the ground. He had been deeply engrossed in a certain passage, and the call had taken him by surprise. After he had a moment to calm down a little, he bent down and picked the book back up, then put it in a nearby satchel that was lying next to his tail. He then took his wireframe glasses, which had a crack in one lens, and put them in as well. He then ran in the direction of the shout.
The young mymar had dark brown hair and blue eyes. He was dressed rather simply, his clothes made from handmade cloth in the nearby village, and the boots cobbled in the same place. They showed signs of wear and tear, the clothes having patches in several places, and the boots had been resoled a few times.
He ran past some fields, and part of a fenced open space with some medium-sized animals grazing in it. He went past a few trees, and finally came up to an older mymar. His hair was mostly gray, and his coat was beginning to dull in color. His cheeks sagged a bit from a few wrinkles that showed a little through his furred cheeks. He was dressed similar to the younger man, but his clothes were newer and didn't have any holes or tears repaired. He was also wearing a floppy hat.
Just before he came to a stop in front of the older mymar, the younger addressed him, "Yes, Uncle Grylos?"
"Why aren't you working?" the older man asked gruffly.
"I was just taking a break after taking care of the onilot. The new calves are doing pretty good."
"Did you check the fence?"
"Yes Uncle. I found a weak spot and fixed it."
"And what about the crops?"
"I was going to do that next."
The older man's brow furrowed a bit, "Check them for weeds and any ripe fruit. Then you can goof-off for a few minutes."
"I was just reading a historic journal while watching the onilot herd."
The man shook his head, "At least you were doing something of some use. Still, I can't see why those pieces of paper have such a hold on you. That book has nothing to do with us, but was written by someone old enough to be your grandfather when he was your age, getting stories from men old enough to be his grandfather."
"People who had actually been on the old world of Terryl, people whom were part of those who built our world."
"Dylan, the times of your grandfather's grandfather are long gone. They have nothing to do with today."
"But don't you ever think about them, about what they had to face over there and how they settled here."
The old man managed to give a half smile, which surprised the younger somewhat, "What I think about is avoiding starvation and making enough silver to meet our needs." His smile then faded, "Now get going before the weeds and bugs devour our crops."
"Yes Uncle Grylos." And the younger man went off.
.....
Dylan, like so many other young men of this time and place, led a simple life on a farm. Although some places had problems with wild animal attacks, there was no great crisis like the fight between the Mixin Grandchildren. And although people still got sick and crops sometimes went bad, there were no famines or epidemics like the ones their ancestors faced on Terryl.
The great cause of the mymar of Absolin was what it had been for years - expansion. Numerous explorers traveled far and wide, bringing back tales of natural wonders and samples of precious gems, rare metals, and other treasured goods. Outposts were established for trading by fur trappers, men in religious retreats, prospectors, and others. Most of these would expand into a village as people moved in from larger communities.
With them all this time were the chapalo, vaguely reptilian four-footed creatures standing almost as tall as a mymar when grown, but a few times as heavy. They proved easy enough for the first generation to tame and domesticate. Either pulling wagons or carrying a lone man on saddleback, they were the all-important native animal on Absolin, vital to communication, travel, and transport.
Dylan had been born near another village, which his parents had come when it was an outpost. The sixth of seven children, he was expecting to become an explorer when he came of age as he wouldn't be inheriting the farm. He thought he'd scout around the wilderness for a while, eventually settling at a growing outpost like his parents.
But this was not to be. Dylan's uncle Grylos had settled near a village some distance from his parents, Heath. He never did find a wife, and Dylan's father grew concerned about his older brother not having anyone to help support him in his advancing years. So Dylan was sent to him. "It won't be the exciting life of an explorer," he father told him, "but at least you'll be comfortable, and soon you'll find a girl."
For Dylan however, it was a less comfortable life than he knew before. Instead of having his parents and siblings to help him out and talk to, there was only Grylos. While his parents were not always cheerful, Grylos was usually grumpy and seldom smiled, tending to put down Dylan's love of books. "Working people don't need to read that much," he once grumbled, "Just a distraction from work." Once in a while, he was in a good enough mood to hold a conversation with. More often than not, however, he found the onilot better company, or their two chapalo. Grylos had never named them. Dylan named them Char and Chi.
What the youth looked forward to were the trips to the village every Firstday of the week. Whatever surplus food set aside for sale was loaded onto the wagon, and once Char and Chi were tied to it, they would drive it to town. Once in the village, their fruit and vegetables and meat would be sold. They'd take a place in the village square and throughout the day the inhabitants would barter goods for the food or trade for silver pieces.
In the early afternoon, Grylos would let Dylan have some time to himself and the young man would go about the village. Although Dylan got a share of the silver pieces from selling the farm goods, it wasn't much. He used them to have his shoes resoled and any major patchwork his clothes might need, and once in a while would get a book. One time, a traveling salesman was in town whom among other things was selling eyeglasses. Dylan had been becoming unable to see clearly, and got the pair that helped him the best.
Dylan had a few acquaintances he knew, the shoe cobbler, the village priest, and a few others. But there were few here his age. Two whom had been here when he first came left the village when the became of age. Not long beforehand, the only girl in the area close to his age married a third man. After her, the youngest girl here was only a small child. It was against Aglirian beliefs to leave an older relative to fend for himself. So Dylan was stuck here, with no marriage prospects, and little chance for change.
Dylan had to be back at the cart in late afternoon. Grylos then left him to watch the wagon while he went to the tavern. After dark, he would stumble back, his breath smelling of alcoholic drinks. Dylan would then help him onto the wagon and drive home.
.....
Not far from the farm was a small lake, fed by a creek coming down from the hills. A chincaberry vine sprang up near it, which was fortunate for the two mymar, especially Dylan.
"Uncle Grylos?" Dylan asked, putting down a basket.
"What is it?" the older mymar asked as he was getting some meat inside the tiny shed they used for a smokehouse.
"I finished going through the vegetables for weeds. I could go ahead and get some chincaberries."
"So you can goof off again?" Grylos thought for a moment, "Ah, go ahead."
And Dylan went off again, shaking the basket to dislodge the few weeds remaining in it. His satchel was not far away. He took it, and went on.
That Dylan had his books nearby was not unnoticed by Grylos, whom shook his head and muttered, "I'll never understand why those papers have such a hold on him."
Dylan went to the vine and looked it over. Most of the berries were still unripe, but a few were ready. He picked them, then once they were in his basket, he got his satchel and went over to a tree by the pond's shore.
"At last, a little time to read." Dylan sat down, put on his cracked spectacles, pulled the old book out, and began reading it again.
He went through the stories from the various people, occasionally getting so wrapped up, he was reading aloud,
" ... finally after the sixth day, the wild surlulo attacks finally ceased. Volunteers who looked around found no trace of the beasts other than their tracks and their dead from their earlier rampages. The outpost was finally left alone."
It was about this moment he thought someone was nearby. He turned ...
To his surprise, the mymar he saw was a girl, a young adult wearing a colorful blue and red dress one would associate with a festival rather than everyday work. The pair of gold earings she had made it look more so. She was looking at him with a slight smile.
The next thing he noticed, he could see through her. She was transparent.
Dylan stared at her, or was this really an illusion and not a person, not believing what he saw.
"Hi." she spoke up.
"Eep!" Dylan fell backward, then scampered back up, backing away, "G-ghost!"
"Oh dear," the girl's smile briefly faded, then she grinned and giggled a bit, "I shouldn't have startled you like that."
"Er, um ..." Dylan wasn't sure how to react. Part of him wanted to run, but the reaction of whatever-it-was that faced him seemed anything but hostile.
"So what's your name?"
"Uh, Dylan."
"Uh Dylan?" the girl giggled again, "that's a funny name."
"Dylan, just Dylan."
His fear began to fade, getting the idea whatever this was didn't seem interested in harming him.
"My name's Ayrini."
Dylan tried to think of a question, "What ... are you? I mean, what are you doing here?"
Ayrini giggled, "Why I'm a girl silly. I'm here because I like going here by the watershore."
"How did you - "
"Dylan!" came a familiar voice. The youth turned, and heard the sound of someone making his way over through the tall grass.
"Wh-what is it, Uncle?" Dylan answered.
"We're getting low on keytle wood for smoking the meat. Get the hatchet and go chop down one of those trees where they grow."
"I'll be there in a min-"
"Now! "
Dylan sighed, then spoke in a softer tone to the girl, slowly turning his head, "I'm sorry, but I have to g-"
He then noticed she was no longer there.
Dylan looked at the spot where she was, puzzled.
He was still wondering what happened when, "DYLAN!! I told you to get moving! " The young man jumped, and nearly fell forward. He turned, and saw his Uncle now in clear view.
"Y-yes Uncle." He quickly took his spectacles and dropped them in his satchel. Then began quickly moving back to the farm.
The older mymar glared at him as he moved by, "Lazy good for nothing ... I don't know how you're going to make it once I'm gone!"
For the rest of the day, Dylan wondered what had happened at the pond shore. Who was this girl Ayrini? Where had she come from? Where had she gone? Then again, was she ever there? Had the whole thing been an illusion?
Would he see her again?
*****
A few days later, while Dylan was busily working in the fields, Grylos went to the barn carrying a couple buckets. He fiddled with the latch on the door, then opened it.
And an onilot calf promptly ran out and kept going.
"What the - " Grylos tried to grab the calf, dropping the buckets in the process. But he was too slow, and he stumbled, falling down. He let loose a string of curses, then called out, "Dylan!"
The younger mymar's attention had already been gotten due to all that swearing. He began running down a path in the fields, "I'll get him!"
Grylos cursed a few more times as he got up, "Don't let him get away, or it'll be bracutubar stew for you for a month!"
Dylan groaned. That was a plant that while nutritious enough had a rancid taste that made it suitable only for either famine or punishment. It was a favorite among jailers and angry parents.
He soon left the plot of crops and began running to head off the calf. It spotted him and changed direction, heading to the lake.
Dylan ran after it, but lost sight of it as it went around a tree. Wincing at the thought of Grylos making good his threat, he ran on, looking around.
He finally saw the calf near the lake shore. It was just standing there, next to a tree, not moving.
"There you are." Dylan began approaching. He had to step around another tree, and once around, he stopped as soon as he saw what was in front of him.
Next to the calf, kneeled down, was the translucent image of Ayrini. She was petting the calf on it's head, and it seemed to sigh contentedly.
Dylan stood where he was, not sure what to do or say.
Finally the image looked his way, then beamed, "Oh, hi!" She had a big smile.
"Uh, hi." Dylan responded almost in a stammer.
She looked back at the onilot calf, stroking its chin, "I love animals, especially baby ones. Is he yours?"
"Um, yes. I, er, mean ... he's Uncle Grylos's."
"Oh, your uncle's." She scratched the calf behind the ears, and it tilted its head so she could reach a little easier.
"It, um, got away from him."
"He ran away?" The girl glanced at Dylan, then looked back at the calf, "Now that was a naughty thing to do," she shook her finger at it as if scolding, but was still smiling, "Now you go back to the nice man."
The calf answered with a "ba-a-a-a-a-a-a," and walked over to Dylan.
Dylan stood there, amazed, "How did you do that?"
Ayrini just giggled as she stood back up.
Dylan looked at the calf, then back at Ayrini, wondering what to say next, "I - thought about you, the other day after you left."
Ayrini simply smiled at him in response.
The youth thought about what to say next, then came that familiar call, "Dylan! Where are you?"
Dylan turned, "Over here, Uncle." he called out, "I got the calf."
"Bring him over here then."
Dylan sighed. There wasn't even a hint of thanks. "I'm sorry, Ayrini, " he spoke as he turned, "I have to - "
And he found she was no longer there.
"Huh?" He walked over and looked around the tree. Still nothing, "She disappeared again."
He stood there, puzzled, then felt a nuzzling against his leg, "Ba-a-a-a-a-a-a."
Dylan looked down at the calf, then back towards the farm. Seeing nothing else he could do here, he bent down, got the calf, and began heading back.
"Dylan!"
"I'm coming." he returned back to the farm and its chores.
*****
The following day was Firstday, and with it came the weekly trip to town. When Dylan got his time alone, he headed to the temple. But he found who he was looking for before he got there, Priest Gibbal. He was dressed in a robe with the hood pulled back. He was about Grylos' age, his hair about as gray, though lacked his sour disposition.
Dylan greeted him and started a conversation, discussing a couple books, a particularly windy storm a few weeks before that was still being talked about. Then Dylan brought up something new.
"I have been wondering lately, about the land our farm's on."
Priest Gibbal gave a curious look, "Has something been wrong with your crops lately?" he asked.
"Oh no. That's not what I meant. I was trying to ask if there's anything special about the land. Did anyone live there before or anything happen?"
The priest thought for a moment, "No one lived there before. But," he paused to recollect details, "That lake, about twenty years ago, when this town wasn't much more than an outpost, some of the children of the families who lived around here would go there."
"That would be a two-hour walk both ways."
"One young man was usually able to borrow his father's chapalo and cart. There were only a small number of families here, so everyone in the area knew one another and the youngsters nearest to here were a particularly close group of friends. Every firstday, a group of them would go to the lake for swimming, berry-picking, but mostly for each other's company away from the adults. As long as there was at least one young man with them, their parents didn't mind as the area was clear of dangerous animals."
Dylan took this in, "Every firstday? How many went on these trips?"
"About ten to twelve would go, of various ages, both boys and girls."
"Girls went too?" Could Ayrini have been one of them?
"Yes, a few in the group were girls I believe."
"Sounds like they had fun. Anything special happen?"
Priest Gibbal's quizzical look returned, "What do you mean?"
"Er, did they find anything like a gold nugget or Mixin artifact or something?"
"No. They sometimes found birds nests and chicks on the ground, and the occasional baby animal, but no gold or Mixin Grandchildren artifacts, or anything of the sort."
"Still fun anyway. How long did this go on?"
"It went on for a few years, then stopped."
"It broke up after the older ones grew up and moved on?"
"Not quite," the priest thought over his words for a moment before saying:
"There was an accident. A young woman, died."
*****
A few nights later, there were the sounds of braying coming from a barn on the farm. From the tiny windowless house, the noises soon got a response.
"Dlyan, take care of that racket!"
"I was about to. I just need to find my boots." From outside, light could be seen starting to appear from the crack under the door.
"Well, hurry up! If that sow doesn't shut it's trap, it'll be onilot stew tomorrow."
"Found them." A moment later, the door opened, and Dylan came out, carrying a lit oil lamp. He closed the door behind him.
"Ba-a-a-a-a-a-a-a."
"Hold on, I'm coming." Dylan responded unenthusiastically, sighing. Carrying the lamp, he began walking to the barn.
"Mar," he muttered to himself, "Just when I was having such a great dream. I hate when this happens." It had been, of course, of Ayrini. In the dream, he had encountered her in town, and was walking along with her, she of course with her always smiling face. How he had wanted it to go on.
He soon got to the barn, fiddled with the latch, and opened the door. The barn itself was fairly simple. One side was storage area for tools, hay, etc. The other for stalls. And on a platform up above was where more hay was stored.
Dylan soon found the source of the commotion. Somehow, a stall hadn't been shut properly, and one of the calves had gotten out. It was trying to get back in, but pushing against the door only kept it closed. It kept braying in protest of it's situation, and that got its mother upset, which brayed in response. And occasionally one of the other onilot in the other stalls would join in.
"Got separated from your mother? Okay, here you go." Dylan set the oil lamp down, away from anything it could possibly light up, walked over, and opened the door to the pen just enough for the calf to get in.
And in it went with a "Ba-a-a-a-a-a-a-a."
Dylan looked in and saw the mother once braying out, now quiet and nuzzling it's calf. "I guess you're taken care for." he thought out loud as he closed the door to the pen and made double certain it was shut and couldn't be nudged open by either of the onilot.
Dylan looked over the door, smiled at the animals, then turned -
He found himself looking right at Ayrini's smiling face.
Dylan nearly jumped, "Urk!" but quickly calmed, "Ayrini? I ... " Here she was again, this time right here in the barn, and as before he couldn't find the right response to say to her.
Ayrini, however, didn't seem to have any such problem, "I saw you going in here. Worried about your onilot?"
"Uh, yes. The calf's mother was crying, and I came to see what was wrong."
Ayrini walked over to the stall and peered in. Dylan wondered why she didn't simply step through the door as she was a ghost, then figured she didn't want to take a chance spooking the animals. She then turned to him, "They seem fine now."
"Um, yes." Dylan inwardly winced at his words, wishing he could come up with better answers.
"So, what are you going to do now?"
"I, didn't have anything else to take care of. I guess I'll stay out here for a while."
He paused, looking at Ayrini's smiling face, thinking of what she might find of interest ...
"Where's the rest of your family?" she asked.
"Huh? Oh, well," Dylan glanced downward toward his feet, "it's just me and Uncle Grylos here."
"No one else?" the smile on the girl's face faded for the first time Dylan could recall, "No mother and father?"
"It's not like that. They live somewhere else, near Brylar. They sent me here." He paused, "Uncle Grylos lived alone, so they sent me here to help him out."
Ayrini seemed to understand, but there was no hint of her smile returning, "You do have friends here, do you not?"
"A few, in the village. Priest Gibbal, Blumbyr the shoe cobbler, a few others I know a little."
"Priest Gibbal?" her smile came back, "He's a nice guy, always there to listen." But then it faded some, "But, isn't there anyone here your age?"
Dylan shrugged, "Not really, no."
Ayrini's expression returned to sadness, "All alone, ... I'm sorry."
Dylan looked at her oddly, "You're sorry, for me? But I'm not the one who's dea-"
Realizing what he was about to say, he promptly cut himself off.
Ayrini stared at Dylan, shocked, then she looked like she was about to cry. She sniffled, then began to turn away.
"Ayrini," Dylan began to reach out to her, "I didn't mean - "
The girl then began running to the door, sobbing.
Alarmed, Dylan called out, "Ayrini, wait!"
Ayrini stopped, but did not turn around, "You ... you think I'm some kind of demon," she sobbed, "a monster."
The words felt to Dylan like a punch in the gut, "No! I didn't mean that." He walked over to her, "I'm sorry Ayrini, I wasn't thinking. Please don't go."
Ayrini turned slowly, sniffling. Tears were coming down her cheeks.
"Don't cry." Dylan found his hand going up to her face to brush away the tears. But as she was insubstantial, he felt nothing as the finger just barely passed though what would have been water and her thin facial coat.
Actually, there did seem to be a slight warmness where he touched her, as if she were still flesh and blood.
Ayrini stopped crying, but she still looked sad.
"Ayrini ..."
They both stood where they were for another few moments, Dylan unsure what else to do or say.
"Ba-a-a-a-a-a-a-a."
Dylan reflexively turned to the stall, at the sound of the onilot calf. The sound came as a relief as his thoughts were briefly shifted away from the situation at hand. He then looked back, "I guess - "
But Ayrini was gone.
Dylan blinked, "Ayrini! Please come back." He began looking around in hopes she had simply hidden nearby, "I didn't mean to say anything that would hurt." He looked around some more, then opened the barn door to see if she was on the other side.
But stepping outside, he could see no sign of her.
Dylan sighed, "I didn't mean ..." He felt terrible. With one wrong word, he had sent his new friend away in tears.
He stood there pondering for a few more moments. Then with nothing better to do, he got the oil lamp from the barn and headed back to the house.
*****
The following day, Dylan was still depressed over the events of the night before. He kept thinking about that moment it had all gone so wrong. If only he had spoken his words differently.
"Dylan! Quit slacking off!"
Dylan nearly jumped, dropping the thresher he was using to gather wild greenwheat for animal feed. "Sorry Uncle," he managed to say as he recovered his fallen tool.
Grylos, who had been working with him gathering up the wild wheat looked at the youth oddly, "Dylan, you've been looking like you had one-too-many at the village tavern last night, but yesterday wasn't Firstday, nor have I ever known you to touch a drop of ale. What is it, youngster?" his eyes narrowed, "Are you coming down sick or something?"
"Nothing, Uncle." Dylan went back to work. Just what could he say that Grylos would believe?
Grylos stared at him suspiciously for a couple seconds, then went back to gathering the wheat as well, "We'll work until this patch is cleared, and we put the greenwheat on the rack for drying out. Then you can go and goof off for a few hours. Until then, stay at it."
"Yes, Uncle."
Grylos muttered something under his breath, then simply worked.
*****
Dylan had thought the job would take only a couple hours. He ended up working twice as long as expected, and Grylos found a few other tasks for the youth. It was late afternoon when he finally called a halt for the day. Dylan put away the tools, then picked up his satchel and headed off in the direction of the lake. Grylos spoke nothing as the younger went off, simply shaking his head. He thought Dylan was simply going to take advantage of the trees' shade and the breeze from the lake to stay cool while he read.
But Dylan had other reasons.
He went over to the spot where he was reading when he first saw her, by the shore.
"Ayrini ... " he thought over his words. Would she come, or would she just ignore him.
"Ayrini, if you can hear me, I'm sorry," his head lowered, "I didn't mean to hurt you, I swear." He paused a couple seconds to consider his next words, "Please, don't stay away. I ... " he stopped, uncertain what to say next.
Dylan sighed. Maybe she had given up on him, was no longer listening to him. Depressed, he began to turn around ...
And there, standing in the spot that had been behind him, was Ayrini.
She had neither the cheerful smile that he first saw her with, nor tears like those from the night before. Her face now had a confused expression, reflecting uncertainty.
"Dylan ... "
"Ayrini!" Dylan felt a surge of joy, then it faded somewhat. He was in an uncertain state as well, "I was afraid, you went away for good." He lowered his head, "I truly am sorry for upsetting you."
"It's I who should be sorry," Ayrini replied, "I shouldn't have run away like that, but I ... " her words trailed off, not sure what to say.
Dylan smiled, "You're still here. Right now, that's all that matters to me."
And Ayrini smiled back in return.
Dylan added, "I'll have to apologize in advance for the next stumbletounged thing I say. Like I told you earlier, there's very few here my age, and I've seen very little of them. Everyone else here is either much older, and I have to defer to them as my elders, or little kids," he paused momentarily, "I'm not used to talking to someone my equal."
Ayrini listened, then smiled, "I had a few friends my age, so I was a little better. We were a pretty close group, " she looked around, "We used to come here every Firstday. It was our own special place."
Dylan listened.
Ayrini went on, "We came here week after week, until ... " her smile faded, and she looked out at the water, then sighed, "It was the time of the Spring Festival. It was fun, but we wanted a little time to ourselves, so we came here like we always did."
"This time, however, some of my friends had made a one-person boat, and wanted to try it out. I didn't know how to swim, but they were having so much fun, I wanted to go out in it too ... "
"And while I was out there, the boat sprung a leak, and before I could even begin to row back to shore, it came apart and I went under ... " she paused for a noticeably long time.
"The next thing I knew, I was back on shore, and dry. My friends were around me, but they were acting like I wasn't there. Then I saw why ... I ... my ... body ... was on the ground, just laying there. My friends tried to breathe air back into me, but ... they stopped, and began crying."
By now, Ayrini looked close to tears, "I ... I kept calling out to them, 'Here I am!' 'Can't you see me?' 'I'm right here!' But ... they couldn't hear me, or see me. I was ... gone."
Dylan lowered his head, "I'm sorry."
Ayrini looked at the water again, "I'd always been told if this happened, I'd be with Grandmother and Grandfather. Instead ... " Her words trailed off.
Dylan stepped up, "There must be something I can do. What do you want? I can pass a message to your friends, your parents?"
Ayrini glanced at Dylan, then looked away, "Everyone was so sad. I don't want them reminded."
"There must be something."
Ayrini thought for a moment, "Actually, there is."
"Name it."
She looked at his satchel, then at him, "Back then, I loved to read. Every day, I would read something from a storybook or science journal." She looked at Dylan in the face, her expression thoughtful.
"Could I sit here, and read them with you?"
Dylan looked at Ayrini and smiled, "Of course."
Ayrini smiled back, a smile of gratitude. Before, Dylan had seen her smile, but it was just a smile. Now, it was more than just that.
Dylan sat down, Ayrini taking a place next to him, and he pulled a book from the satchel, "It's a journal, from Tryln, one of the first settlements away from the area around Mixinar. I hope you don't mind."
"Not at all." Ayrini smiled.
Dylan got his cracked spectacles and put them on. Ayrini gave him a look, then began giggling. Dylan looked her way, and she put her hand to her mouth, "I'm sorry Dylan, but -" she giggled again.
Dylan answered with a smirk, "I know, one side is broken. But it beats a magnifying glass. It's too easy to set a book afire."
Ayrini giggled a little more, then finally settled down, "So how does it start?"
Dylan turned to the first page, "In the seventh year after founding, we chose this spot to make our new home ... "
He'd read it before, but it seemed much more special now. He had finally found a friend.
End of Part One
The Mymar - a few notes on the race in the time of The Gambler and the Psi.
FAQ - questions asked by readers about the Mymar.