The sky was clear this morning: the sun was making its ascent into the sky, and the rosy fingers of dawn were extending across the horizon. I commenced my Traveling hours ago, yet was less than one mile north of my village. As my heavy paws clomped along the road, a slight breeze rustled the leaves atop the trees bordering the road. Besides this, the only noise to be heard was the sound of my long, hairy tail dragging behind me. The crimson hairs on its end signified me as a Manetail; countless generations of interspecies breeding produced my bird-like face and piercing beak, along with my feline torso and lower body.

I kept my amber eyes intent on the Edifice far in the distance. A slight fog obscured the towering center of Manetail worship, but I could just discern the building's conical towers against the early morning sky. Taking a deep breath, I inhaled rich aromas of oak and beech, and at once felt invigorated.

For hours my eyes stayed riveted on the Edifice, and everything else in my vision seemed to fade away. I was so rapt in this marvel that it was with a sudden start that I realized someone was approaching me. The creature came from a side road joining up with this highway about one hundred feet ahead.

Hearing the approaching footfalls, my eyes turned from the Edifice. With the dense forest as a backdrop, I could now clearly distinguish a creature staggering toward myself. As it neared, my eyes flared in shock. It is a Human! I thought in amazement. Humans were never seen in this part of the world, and in my own life I had only observed one of the curious beings.

This particular human, a male by his appearance, had an aged, wrinkled face and eyes gray as a thundercloud. His entire body was shrouded in a thick, brown cloak of bearskin. A hood hung precariously over his head, and within a second gave way to his rough walking movements, revealing the disheveled white hair beneath.

By now the man was a few yards from me, and with eyes full of anguish he cried out-

"Please, sir, help me! My cane has betrayed me and is now but a rotten stick, snapped in two. I have nothing to hold up this frail body of mine!"

I quickly ran to the old man's side, putting his right arm over my shoulder.

"Thank you, kind sir!" the man exclaimed in a cracked voice.

"As Tashra decrees," I responded. After a second's pause, I asked, "What has brought you hereabouts?"

"Pheona has sent me on a mission to discuss our Truths with your Master," the old man replied. So he's a Pheonist, I thought. Tashraism, the belief of us Manetails, was predominant on this planet, and there was but a small fraction of human inhabitants of Cencaria practicing its own religion of Pheonism.

We had begun to take up a slow, gingerly walk toward the Edifice-for I concluded that this stranger must wish to go there to speak with the Master.

A coil of confusion suddenly nagged my brain and I said, "Who are you that you have the authority to speak with the Master?"

"Ha!" roared the man sardonically. Regaining control of himself, he continued-

"I was the High Mage of Pheona when I left Ukintile?"

"You are the High Mage of Pheona!" I exclaimed, impulsively stepping away from the man. Without realizing it, I had removed my supporting arm from the man's limp side. And yet I was so overwhelmed with surprise and shock that I did not even notice that he was now standing on his own.