Memory Lore 1
"The boy cannot know, Zanben." The eladrin's clear voice speaks down to its recipient.
"But Chanadar, is he safe? Surely you cannot think he can merrily live his life, with the shadow of his father's deeds looming over his past and destiny - and to be ignorant?" Shingles' response sounds sarcastic, more than would be expected to be said towards the High Priest of Bellbridge.
Shiloh stands in the hallway, just outside Shingles' office. She had almost walked in when she heard the confrontation in the room. Snooping wasn't in her blood so much as Ace's, but she didn't want to interrupt them...so listening was the compromise.
A pause cuts into the conversation as the girl hears Chanadar's footsteps pace the room. "His father had promised his actions at Mirabar would be in the past. Besides, only we know of his connection. Otherwise, none could suspect." The priest's voice lilts at the end, as if this were a certainty. "The Kronatar is long gone."
"Yes, well, that's easy for you to say. I for one do not trust the word of a man who messes with time. I carried the bodies of Gondahar and Allagais, remember."
"Indeed, yes. But if you do not trust his word, trust mine. Harald Bright might be an enigma, but a changed man he is." With that, the High Priest moved toward the door. "Oh, Zanben, look for my raven. If it is not in by the third moon, expect the worst." He enters the hall, glances at Shiloh with a nod, and carries down toward his office with his characteristic limp.