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from here.” Nofflore’s gaze fell in dismay.

  “Your arrows may not reach the fiend, but mine can.” Lastenberg pulled back his bow with an arrow poised and a ray of sunshine broke the cloud cover above the Zafthic, stunning its eyes. It hesitated but a moment.

  Lastenberg let fly his arrow. The snap of the bowstring was so sharp it would have gashed the hand of an archer less then he. The arrow was gone ere any could see its straight take off. It flew like a shooting star of sparkling white light across the sky, and before the Zafthic could again take off flying, the dart had pierced deep into the dark monster’s cold form.

  The Staff of Hope fell from the clutches of the Zafthic.

  “No!” screamed Kalpon as The Staff landed in the dusty swirls of The Dark Land. “The Staff must never touch The Dark Dirt!”

  “Do not fear, Staff Keeper. You, and even The Dark Land, do not know everything of The Staff’s powers. Watch the horizon. It burns a new light.”

  And, indeed, Lastenberg spoke truth. Far away the horizon shone strong light like no one had ever seen before, save Lastenberg. It glowed like the days of old, when The Land of Dark Dirt was but a grain of sand in the future’s path. When Dathzon needed not The Staff of Hope to hold away evil.

  The horizon shone with the sun’s light as it had done when humans roamed all the land –– all of Dathzon.

  “The Staff shall cleanse the soil of evil,” said Lastenberg. “By night’s coming, there will be stars gracing the sky everywhere, and golden grass marching to the horizon’s edge. Fear not the darkness, for it passes. Shadows can always be won by light, if you only have hope. What you must now fear is yourselves. You have the land once again, do not release evils upon it that you cannot control.”

  “But, if you knew The Staff you had made to keep The Mountain, forest and plains safe from those evils could rid the world of The Dark Dirt, why did you not tell that to the kings of old? Why did you allow The Dark Dirt to consume all but us?” questioned Nofflore.

  “Last time I came, the world needed cleansing. Evil monarchs ruled over all those lands and magic-wielding men released The Dark Dirt to kill their enemies. The war-mongers did not care for the safety of the world. If they could not control the weapon they brandished, they should not have used it. By the time I had forged The Staff to fight The Dark Land, there was hardly anything left to fight for.” The Archer glanced to The Mountain.

  “That mountain was the only one untainted by the evils that consumed the rest of Dathzon. I let The Dark Dirt bury the wicked men in their own evils, for in the shadow of this mountain I gathered the last survivors of the rebellion of fair-hearted people. Do not worry, my friends, the land out there is new. A canvas for you to paint many beautiful memories and wonders upon.”

  Lastenberg strode from the wall and to the courtyard. “Let this be the day of a world reborn. A day that you learn from the errors of an age long gone, and a day that shines like no other.” The Archer bowed to the king and The Keepers. He then led them all into The Bergwarn chamber, his tomb for a few hundred more years.

  “Lastenberg? How did you know from your vision long ago, we were Word Keepers? We do not exactly have it written upon us,” asked Kefra when they stopped in the room’s glow.

  “The same way I knew where the Zafthic would be. My vision sees more than the sight of an eye. However, I must admit, sometimes even my gaze cannot catch every detail.”

  “Can you not stay? To protect us always?” asked Kalpon.

  “Nay, I cannot. I must rest now, for my powers need meditation. ’Twas short my part in this time, but long do I hope the effects will last. Now before I bid thee farewell, I must give you my prophesy.”

  Lastenberg closed his eyes and saw to the future, to the next time he would open his eyes. “Heed my words, for the future people of the land depend upon it. I summon a knight, a beggar behind bars, a queen, a bird, and a child. I summon these to The Bergwarn to summon me.” Lastenberg then dissolved into the room’s torchlight, whispering a farewell to the five.

  Silence and stillness mingled in the room. The hero was gone now. As quickly as he had come to save them he left them to face the future. A future Lastenberg himself had helped carve.

  “I will go write what he said.” Nofflore left the four others and hurried to not forget those words the future needed.

  “They are an odd bunch, the next group who shall summon Lastenberg,” said Kalpon.

  “Indeed, and what is a bird?” inquired Kefra.

  “Only the future will know what to make of those words.” Iwan placed a hand upon Guthuahn’s shoulder. “Come, let us ensure that the Old Words survive the trail of time as well. They who live in the future will need ‘Opon-Hul’ one day.”