her.
“That’s right!” the Jongleur said, turning a somersault that brought squeals of glee from the children. “The Age of Ignorance was a scary time for us, but there weren’t as many demons then, and they couldn’t kill everyone. Much like today, humans built what they could during the day, and the demons would tear it down each night.
“As we struggled to survive,” Keerin went on, “we adapted, learning how to hide food and animals from the demons, and how to avoid them.” He looked around as if in terror, then ran behind one child, cringing. “We lived in holes in the ground, so they couldn’t find us.”
“Like bunnies?” Jessi asked, laughing.
“Just so!” Keerin called, putting a twitching finger up behind each ear and hopping about, wriggling his nose.
“We lived any way we could,” he went on, “until we discovered writing. From there, it wasn’t long before we had learned that some writing could hold the corelings back. What writing is that?” he asked, cupping an ear.
“Wards!” everyone cried in unison.
“Correct!” the Jongleur congratulated with a flip. “With wards, we could protect ourselves from the corelings, and we practiced them, getting better and better. More and more wards were discovered, until someone learned one that did more than hold the demons back. It hurt them.” The children gasped, and Arlen, even though he had heard almost this same performance every year for as long as he could remember, found himself sucking in his breath. What he wouldn’t give to know such a ward!
“The demons did not take well to this advancement,” Keerin said with a grin. “They were used to us running and hiding, and when we turned and fought, they fought back. Hard. Thus began the First Demon War, and the second age, the Age of the Deliverer.
“The Deliverer was a man called upon by the Creator to lead our armies, and with him to lead us, we were winning!” He thrust his fist into the air and the children cheered. It was infectious, and Arlen tickled Jessi with glee.
“As our magics and tactics improved,” Keerin said, “humans began to live longer, and our numbers swelled. Our armies grew larger, even as the number of demons dwindled. There was hope that the corelings would be vanquished once and for all.”
The Jongleur paused then, and his face took on a serious expression. “Then,” he said, “without warning, the demons stopped coming. Never in the history of the world had a night passed without the corelings. Now night after night went by with no sign of them, and we were baffled.” He scratched his head in mock confusion. “Many believed that the demon losses in the war had been too great, and that they had given up the fight, cowering with fright in the Core.” He huddled away from the children, hissing like a cat and shaking as if with fear. Some of the children got into the act, growling at him menacingly.
“The Deliverer,” Keerin said, “who had seen the demons fight fearlessly every night, doubted this, but as months passed without sign of the creatures, his armies began to fragment.
“Humanity rejoiced in their victory over the corelings for years,” Keerin went on. He picked up his lute and played a lively tune, dancing about. “But as the years passed without the common foe, the brotherhood of men grew strained, and then faded. For the first time, we fought against one another.” The Jongleur’s voice turned ominous. “As war sparked, the Deliverer was called upon by all sides to lead, but he shouted, ‘I’ll not fight ’gainst men while a single demon remains in the Core!’ He turned his back, and left the lands as armies marched and all the land fell into chaos.
“From these great wars arose powerful nations,” he said, turning the tune into something uplifting, “and mankind spread far and wide, covering the entire world. The Age of the Deliverer came to a close, and the Age of Science began.
“The Age of Science,” the
“That’s right!” the Jongleur said, turning a somersault that brought squeals of glee from the children. “The Age of Ignorance was a scary time for us, but there weren’t as many demons then, and they couldn’t kill everyone. Much like today, humans built what they could during the day, and the demons would tear it down each night.
“As we struggled to survive,” Keerin went on, “we adapted, learning how to hide food and animals from the demons, and how to avoid them.” He looked around as if in terror, then ran behind one child, cringing. “We lived in holes in the ground, so they couldn’t find us.”
“Like bunnies?” Jessi asked, laughing.
“Just so!” Keerin called, putting a twitching finger up behind each ear and hopping about, wriggling his nose.
“We lived any way we could,” he went on, “until we discovered writing. From there, it wasn’t long before we had learned that some writing could hold the corelings back. What writing is that?” he asked, cupping an ear.
“Wards!” everyone cried in unison.
“Correct!” the Jongleur congratulated with a flip. “With wards, we could protect ourselves from the corelings, and we practiced them, getting better and better. More and more wards were discovered, until someone learned one that did more than hold the demons back. It hurt them.” The children gasped, and Arlen, even though he had heard almost this same performance every year for as long as he could remember, found himself sucking in his breath. What he wouldn’t give to know such a ward!
“The demons did not take well to this advancement,” Keerin said with a grin. “They were used to us running and hiding, and when we turned and fought, they fought back. Hard. Thus began the First Demon War, and the second age, the Age of the Deliverer.
“The Deliverer was a man called upon by the Creator to lead our armies, and with him to lead us, we were winning!” He thrust his fist into the air and the children cheered. It was infectious, and Arlen tickled Jessi with glee.
“As our magics and tactics improved,” Keerin said, “humans began to live longer, and our numbers swelled. Our armies grew larger, even as the number of demons dwindled. There was hope that the corelings would be vanquished once and for all.”
The Jongleur paused then, and his face took on a serious expression. “Then,” he said, “without warning, the demons stopped coming. Never in the history of the world had a night passed without the corelings. Now night after night went by with no sign of them, and we were baffled.” He scratched his head in mock confusion. “Many believed that the demon losses in the war had been too great, and that they had given up the fight, cowering with fright in the Core.” He huddled away from the children, hissing like a cat and shaking as if with fear. Some of the children got into the act, growling at him menacingly.
“The Deliverer,” Keerin said, “who had seen the demons fight fearlessly every night, doubted this, but as months passed without sign of the creatures, his armies began to fragment.
“Humanity rejoiced in their victory over the corelings for years,” Keerin went on. He picked up his lute and played a lively tune, dancing about. “But as the years passed without the common foe, the brotherhood of men grew strained, and then faded. For the first time, we fought against one another.” The Jongleur’s voice turned ominous. “As war sparked, the Deliverer was called upon by all sides to lead, but he shouted, ‘I’ll not fight ’gainst men while a single demon remains in the Core!’ He turned his back, and left the lands as armies marched and all the land fell into chaos.
“From these great wars arose powerful nations,” he said, turning the tune into something uplifting, “and mankind spread far and wide, covering the entire world. The Age of the Deliverer came to a close, and the Age of Science began.
“The Age of Science,” the
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