Extraits

The sweet musical notes grew louder, warning him that he was almost home. He twisted himself upright as he flew on the warm cushion of air, ready to be deposited at the gate on Denduron. Alder smiled. He needed a rest and hoped that his duties as a Bedoowan knight would allow for a little downtime.

It was at that moment that he caught one last image floating in the sea of space. It was a fleeting image of a large group of dark-skinned men holding up spears, waving them angrily. The image caught his eye because it was familiar. The men were tall and thin. Each was as bald as the next. They wore thick, leather armor that was distinctly purple. Alder recognized them. They were a primitive tribe that lived on the far side of the mountain from his village on Denduron. They were a peaceful people. Seeing them waving spears, wearing armor and chanting angrily was disturbing. What could it mean? The image was gone as quickly as he registered it, swallowed up by the vision of a silver dygo digging machine from Zadaa. In Alder’s mind, the image of the angry armed tribe remained. He knew it wasn’t a good omen.