  'Twas on a chill 
night, when the moon 
shone pasty-faced 
above the horizon, 
balanced on the 
towers of Lord 
British's castle, that 
the events I am about 
#EOP
to relate took place, 
some years ago now. I 
witnessed them all 
from my tiny 
mousehole.
  Milords British and 
Blackthorn are 
accustomed to a game 
#EOP
of chess 'pon an 
evening, over which 
they argue the issues 
that affect the course 
of the realm. Lord 
Blackthorn was on 
his way to Lord 
British's chambers, 
#EOP
and Lord British 
stood by a window 
casement, just having 
finished setting the 
pieces upon the board.
  Suddenly the 
shutters blew open, 
and Lord British fell 
#EOP
to the ground, one 
hand shielding his 
eyes. A chill wind 
entered the room, 
and it seemed a gash 
was torn in the very 
air. Through the gash 
I could see stars and 
#EOP
swirling clouds of 
stellar dust, and a 
coldness sucked all 
the warmth from the 
air. A terrible wind 
tossed books and 
blankets across the 
room, and furniture 
#EOP
toppled.
  From within this 
gash issued a great 
voice, unlike any I 
have ever heard. 
And these are the 
words it spoke (for I 
memorized them 
#EOP
most carefully):
  "Greetings, Lord 
British. I am the 
Time Lord, a being 
from beyond your 
dimension, as thou 
art from a world 
other than Sosaria. I 
#EOP
am here to bring thee 
warning. Dost thou 
recall how long ago a 
mysterious Stranger 
came to Sosaria and 
saved the world 
from the evil wizard 
Mondain? He 
#EOP
shattered the Gem of 
Immortality, within 
which dwelled a 
perfect likeness of 
this world."
  Lord British slowly 
stood and faced the 
hole in the air. "I 
#EOP
remember," he said. 
"Oft have I wished 
that stranger would 
return."
  "He hath returned," 
spoke the voice. "But 
not to here. When the 
Gem was shattered, a 
#EOP
thousand shards were 
scattered across the 
dimensions, and in 
each shard there is a 
perfect likeness of 
this world. And thou 
dost live upon one 
such shard, for thou 
#EOP
art not of the true 
world-thou art 
merely a reflection."
  Lord British looked 
shaken by this, and I 
did not know what to 
think! Was I merely a 
shadow of the real 
#EOP
me, which lives still 
somewhere else 
across uncounted 
universes?
  "My task is to heal 
this shattered world, 
Lord British," said 
the voice. "And I seek 
#EOP
to enlist thee in my 
cause. Be warned 
that in this case, 
healing carries with 
it a terrible price."
  Concern warred 
with curiosity on my 
liege's face, but ever 
#EOP
one to shoulder a 
burden, he 
straightened and 
faced the gash in the 
air bravely. "Name 
thy price."
  "A shard of a 
universe is a 
#EOP
powerful thing, and a 
universe shattered is 
always in danger 
from the powers of 
darkness. Already 
three shards were 
turned to evil, and 
sent to plague the 
#EOP
original universe in 
the form of 
Shadowlords. Many 
times have I brought 
the Stranger back to 
Britannia, to preserve 
it from its own folly 
or from outside 
#EOP
dangers. Yet as long 
as the world 
remaineth in pieces, 
it remaineth 
vulnerable. We must 
bring the shards into 
harmony, so that they 
resonate in such a 
#EOP
manner that matches 
the original universe. 
Then the two 
universes shall 
merge, and be again 
as one."
  "But if we are only 
shadows..." Lord 
#EOP
British said 
wonderingly.
  The light from the 
stars within the hole 
seemed to dim. 
"Indeed, the 
reflections shall 
become one with the 
#EOP
original. Thou wouldst 
cease to be as thou 
art, and become part 
of the larger you. 
Thou shalt not die; 
however, uncounted 
generations have 
passed and borne 
#EOP
children since that 
day, and they have 
no counterparts. 
They would perish 
utterly."  Lord 
British sagged in 
shock, realizing the 
terrible price that 
#EOP
would be paid to heal 
the universe. "All of 
my people," he 
breathed.
  "'Tis for 
the greater good."
  Lord British bowed 
his head.
#EOP
 'Twas then I saw 
the movement by the 
door, half-hid by the 
heavy red curtains. 
Lord Blackthorn 
stood there, concealed 
from the rest of the 
room, his face 
#EOP
white. How long had 
he been listening? I 
cannot say, yet I 
suspect that he had 
heard all that the 
mysterious voice had 
to say.
  "How then, shall I 
#EOP
aid thee?" Lord 
British said, 
weariness in his 
voice.
  "Aid the nobilty 
that resideth in the 
human heart. Protect 
the Virtues that so 
#EOP
recently came to thee 
in thought late at 
night. They are the 
Virtues of life, as 
your counterpart 
understands them to 
be. For when thy 
populace doth live and 
#EOP
breathe these Virtues, 
shall it match the 
true Britannia, and 
thy shard shall 
rejoin with it."
  The gash in the air 
began to close, and 
with it warmth stole 
#EOP
back into the room.
  "I was going to 
discuss my idea with 
Blackthorn tonight," 
Lord British 
breathed. "Have I no 
thoughts that are my 
own? Is my life but 
#EOP
a reflection of 
another me?"
  "Nay," said the 
voice, smaller 
through the 
diminished opening. 
"Say, rather, that 
you are parallel, for 
#EOP
there is no guarantee 
that thou shalt 
accomplish what I 
have set thee to. I 
speak tonight to a 
thousand of thee, and 
ask the same of all. 
Perhaps not all shall 
#EOP
seek to aid me." And 
with that, the gash 
closed, and the voice 
was gone, leaving a 
room that appeare 
tossed by a mighty 
storm.
  "Destroy the 
#EOP
world to save the 
universe," Lord 
British said bitterly. 
"I do not wonder that 
some may balk."
  Lord Blackthorn 
collected himself, and 
strode into the room, 
#EOP
a decent mimicry of 
surprise on his face. 
"My liege! What has 
happened here?" he 
exclaimed, feigning 
dismay well. But not 
well enough to fool 
his old friend, 
#EOP
whose eyes narrowed 
at seeing him there.  
  "How much didst 
thou hear?" demanded 
Lord British.
  "Why, nothing," 
managed Blackthorn, 
his head ducked away 
#EOP
from his friend, as 
he bent to retrieve 
the fallen chess 
pieces. "I merely 
came for our game 
of chess."
  Together they 
righted the 
#EOP
table, and set the 
pieces upon the black 
and white squares. 
"Such simplicity to 
the game, Blackthorn," 
mused Lord British, 
idly brushing one 
finger against the 
#EOP
board. "Black and 
white, each to its 
own color, as if life 
were so simple. 
What think you?"
  Blackthorn sat 
heavily on a hassock 
beside the chess 
#EOP
table. "I think that 
matters are never so 
simple, my liege. And 
that I would regret it 
deeply if someone, 
such as a friend, 
saw it thus."
  Lord British's eyes 
#EOP
met his. "Yet 
sometimes one must 
sacrifice a pawn to 
save a king."
  Lord Blackthorn 
met his gaze 
squarely. "Even 
pawns have lives and 
#EOP
loves at home, my 
lord." Then he 
reached out for a 
pawn, and firmly 
moved it forward two 
squares. "Shall we 
play a game?" he 
asked.
#EOP
  The chess game 
that night was a 
draw, and they 
played grimly.
  And the next day, 
Lord British 
gathered the nobles to 
proclaim the idea of 
#EOP
a new system of 
Virtues, and declared 
that shrines should be 
built across the land.
  Lord Blackthorn 
opposed it bitterly, 
and many thought 
him strange for doing 
#EOP
so, for ever had he 
been a noble and 
upright man, and 
ever had he and 
Lord British been in 
accord. Declaring that 
he should start his 
own shrine, he 
#EOP
departed the castle 
that day to live in a 
tower in a lake on the 
north side of the 
city.
  They are still the 
best of friends, yet a 
sadness hangs 
#EOP
between them, as if 
they were forced 
into making choices 
that appealed not to 
them. And at night, 
when I creep softly 
from one corner of 
my liege's 
#EOP
bedchamber to 
another, I sometimes 
see him take a pawn 
from his night table, 
and hold it in his 
hand, and quietly 
weep.
  But I am but a 
#EOP
mouse, and none 
hear me. This tale 
goes unknown, save 
for my writing 
these enormous 
letters with mine 
ink-stained tiny 
paws for thee to 
#EOP
read, for I fear 
indeed for our world 
and for our people in 
these perilous times.
#EOP
#EOP
#EOP
#EOP
#EOP
#EOP
#EOP
#EOP
#EOP
#EOP
#EOP
#EOP
#EOP
#EOP
#EOP
#EOP
#EOP
#EOP
#EOP
#EOP
#EOP
#EOP
#EOP
#EOP
#EOP
#EOP
#EOP
#EOP
#EOP
#EOP
