Memories from the past

The frigid air of the mountain blew past Kalahar, sweeping up his long blue cloak in its path. The solitary creator felt the the cold seeped through his skin towards his heart. It was an old familiar sensation to him, not unlike the affliction of a man who had once stood too close to evil. But Kalahar didn't shudder. He had grown accustomed to the cold.

The wind was now blowing through nearby trees. Kalahar watched it as it wandered from bough to bough, trying to dislodge the autumn foliage. One by one the dying leaves broke off and fell to the floor. Words mingled with the rustling of leaves in Kalahar's mind, words that had been spoken at a trial long ago.

Evil can dwell in the heart of all things...

Kalahar looked up and spotted a single healthy leaf quivering among the dead one.

...even the very purest.

The lone leaf presently snapped off its branch and fell with the others. Kalahar walked across the carpet of dead leaves to the place where it had disappeared. His white robes parted the deadened ornaments in his path. Bending over, he picked up the sparkling green anomaly and held it in his palm.

"So many of them are falling," Kalahar noticed.

His sentence was punctuated by a dull thud as the blade of a throwing knife impaled one of the dead leaves against a wooden target, sending small splinters falling to the floor.

"They were probably already diseased," replied the young man who had just thrown the knife.

"Not this one," Kalahar replied, holding up the green leaf in the palm of his hand. He handed it to his younger companion. Aldhuil inspected the leaf by bending it between his fingers.

"It still looks healthy," the young man agreed "It shouldn't have fallen."

"This reminds you of something," Aldhuil added as he observed Kalahar's silent demeanor.

"It does," the inventor acknowledged "It reminds me that even the best intentions do not guarantee someone's integrity. Integrity does not only come from the heart. It is guided by years of experience...and mistakes."