BACKSTORY
"Kendall, come close, my boy. I have something important to tell you."
"What is it, Master Rosh? Would you like me to bring a tablet?"
"Not today, child, at least not until I’m finished, then you may write it all. Today I want to put all the pieces together. I want you to know what really happened and why you are so important. I’m not long for this world, Kendall. Then it will all be on your shoulders – a burden too heavy for you – but yours none the less. Listen carefully, child."
Kendall leaned close. Picking up a rag, he wiped beads of sweat from Master Rosh’s brow. The clear blue eyes of his mentor stared ahead as though they saw something, but the elderly man had been blind for many years. Whatever he saw was far from the hut he now occupied.
"It all began when I was very young, perhaps in my fifth year. My cousin, Darish, was the first… He just disappeared. One moment he was there and the next he was gone. Not long afterwards, my brother, Clay, vanished. The whole village searched, but found no trace of either of them. As the search widened, we found people from other villages searching for their children as well. All of them had the same story. Boys of about eleven or twelve years had suddenly disappeared."
Master Rosh coughed. Kendall slid his arm behind his shoulders and pulled him forward. The lad placed another pillow behind him. When the elderly man regained his breath, he continued.
"Fear reigned as parents clutched their children close. Gone were the days of exploring alone in the woods. Men carried swords and fashioned pointed sticks for their sons. Women gathered their children around themselves like brood hens. And at night the sound of my mother crying often woke me.
"One night I dreamed about walking through an arched doorway. The frame had writing on it that I couldn’t read, but it was beautiful and I wanted to read it more than anything.
"I woke up and there was the doorway right in my own hut. I reached out and touched the writing. It was as though it were singing to me wondrous music. For three nights the same dream came and the same doorway appeared and I heard the same music. But as I was touching the writing on the third night the music stopped and I was afraid that I would never hear it again.
"So I got up and started to climb through the doorway. As I did, I felt something grab my foot. When I turned to look, my little sister, Lura, clung desperately to me.
"’Rosh!’ she cried.
"Her voice jarred me out of my dream state. The doorway began to fade. My sister slipped away. The last thing I heard from home was her scream."
