The wizard took a puff of his pipe and smiled.
"I believe you all have a certain item on your persons," he puffed, "Oh don't pretend you don't, I know you all posses a magic stone." He pause, "Well, what are you waiting for? Get them out." We all glanced at each other curious. Cautiously I withdrew my stone from my belt pouch and held it tight against my chest. I glanced around again and noticed the others were also holding their own stones to their chests. The wizard to another puff and rolled his eyes, "Oh don't be so coy, show them to me properly." As one we slowly revealed our stones, holding them in our palms, palms up, at arms length.
The wizard nodded, his twinkling eyes scanning each stone in turn. "Yes, as I thought," he mused.
"What is?" I asked, "And how come we all have one?"
The wizard smiled at me, "Oh that's a long story which I shall not go into, only the part pertaining to you six. The stones you hold are pale imitations of the Coulstananation, a mighty artefact made long ago in the mists of history. Three centuries ago the great dragon Cranthatrax the Crafty came into position of the Coulstananation. Taking human form he sought to take the Coulstananation's power for his own; for eight score and sixteen years he toiled, pouring over magic tomes and now forgotten scrolls, travelling the world in search of knowledge which could aid him in his quest. His work paid off and he devised a way to enact his plan.
"The exact details are now lost for they were known only to Cranthatrax, but what I have gleaned from my researches and that of my colleagues in the Order, is that Cranthatrax planned to sunder the stone, siphoning its power into nine copies. Each copy being lesser in power to the Coulstananation would allow him to bind a portion of his soul to each, enabling him to draw on a portion of Coulstananation's power at a time, for he was wise enough to know that no being, not even a god, could take on the full might of the Coulstananation and live. However something went wrong, and when he sundered the Coulstananation, it destroyed his physical form, and the copies were scattered."
The wizard paused and puffed on his pipe thoughtfully.
"Cranthatrax wanted the power of the stone for the stone contained the very essence of creation itself," he continued, every one of us hanging on his words with bated breath, "When the Coulstananation was sundered, the copies were not scattered only over this world, but passed into others. Some even think that it created new worlds to hind within, as is the wont of such an artefact. Regardless, the copies passed into your worlds where they dwelt for a time until they came into your possessions." He puffed again, "But as the ritual Cranthatrax used to sunder the Coulstananation was never completed, the stones retained a link with each other; a link which they seek to close. They are drawn to each other, and it is that attraction that brought you here."
"That may account for the stones," said Barûmnâzil thoughtfully, "But why do you look like our grandfather's? I know for a fact mine didn't look like Elutian's and I doubt he looked like any of the others'."
The wizard nodded. "I have long studied the stone," he replied, toying with his pipe, "My Order is in possession of one of the stones, and I have worked with it for a long time. For years I tried to restore the stone to its full glory, trying to exploit its connection with the other stones to draw them to my stone, but like Cranthatrax I failed, only less catastrophically; my soul resonated with the stone, reflections and imitations reflecting into the other stones. Reflections which manifested as your grandfathers."
We all sat there digesting this information. I was sure we were all thinking the same thing, was our grandfather really nothing more than a creation of the stone? How could that be? Didn't that mean we weren't real! just something created by the stone ourselves?
The wizard sat there, puffing away in silence, waiting for us to ask the obvious question...
