A friend at last

CHAPTER 24 // April 29, 2012

He was never one to shy away from a challenge. A performer of true spirit, speaking to the masses through his music, Chuckie welcomed our liasions into his show. In a medieval town with a great scientific history, the walls seemed to move when the crowd embraced the delegation from Yamarill.

The history was ever present, 850 years since the town was founded and over 500 years since the university opened it’s doors.

* * *

What is a helichon?, you might ask. I’ve described my first encounter with them. How they came running across the moor when I first was allowed to wander alone between the strait of Credi and the small village Verrocchio. How they glistened in the sun, quick legs in black bakelite but with sweaty tounges, like the ones on ordinary dogs.

I didn’t know how to react. Was this a diabolical machine or an animal forged in the strange fauna of Yamarill?

The answer came not long after. I was allowed to witness the birth of a helichon in one of the artisan’s ateliers just outside Verrochio. Never before had the link between beauty and engineering been so apparent to me! What a craftsmanship when the amorphous combines living matter with dead!

But not everything was clear to me. How the ringing of the bells and the burning of the incense could be such a vital part of the metamorphic process I could never explain. But the final result! What had been a piteous, panting little creature now stood before me on all fours, full of vigour, with a burning lust for life. Soon the helichon would meet its master, and together they would learn to hunt in the mountains. They would become inseparable.

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