As the words entered Kre’s ears, his mind was already piecing together the memory that was most suitable. First, a single speck of light started to shine. It grew brighter with every passing moment, the fire growing larger and larger still until it was revealed to be the flames from a crackling fireplace.
The light from the developing flames started to spread into the room, revealing wooden floors covered by a thick woolen rug, poorly colored as if dyed haphazardly by a toddler. Soon the light exposed two high-backed leather chairs near the fireplace. The last piece of furniture to emerge from the darkness was a side table, about arm height, nestled between the two chairs. Sitting on that table, partially assembled, was Cooter’s Tehynji game board next to a clay pitcher and a slightly misshapen clay mug.
Shadow Noj stood facing the fire, one arm resting on the mantle and the other reaching down towards the fire, fingers slowly moving back and forth as if tasting the flames.
“Your home, I assume?”
Kre shook his head and ran a hand across the back of the chair nearest him. “No, it was Ser Terync’s home. He was a Dragon Knight you see, though none of us knew that at the time.”
The shadow figure nodded and slowly withdrew its questing hand, “Strange that I know there should be warmth here, but I feel none. I recall the concept of heat but here I cannot feel any of it whatsoever.”
Running its palm across the scarred wood of the mantle, the shadow figure continued in its partially monotone way, “Even this, terrible handiwork. I should feel the splinters and roughness of the wood, but I cannot. The texture simply does not exist, though the look of it leads one to believe it should be there. I think that my hand only does not pass through it by sheer force of will that I want to believe that it’s there.”
The figure turned towards Kre and shook its head ruefully. “Your imagination lacks depth and detail. It is no wonder that your people have yet to achieve the greatness of mine own, even after all these generations.”
“How many generations, do you suppose?” Kre asked tentatively, unsure if this was a good time to interject with a question that he was certain could not be answered, but he felt needed to be asked in any case.
With a shrug, Shadow Noj waved a dismissive hand as it responded, “My memory is still fuzzy, so I do not yet recall when I was placed into slumber, but I don’t believe our respective systems for calculating the date are compatible in any case.
“Besides, the time between our civilizations is not important,” it said matter-of-factly. “What we should be focused on right now is determining how much you know and how much I recall. Putting those two things together will tell us where we need to search next for answers.”
Shadow Noj waved a hand towards the chairs and waited patiently for Kre take a seat before seating himself. It glanced at the table and clucked its tongue is disappointment, “One cup?”
Kre shrugged, “Cooter always had his own glass filled with apple brandy, or something strong like that.”
Turning the mug over in its hands, the shadow figure shook its head again, “It looks as if it were made by a blind child. I’m surprised that it would hold liquid at all.”
“I’ll have you know that I made that myself,” Kre retorted. “It was a harvesttime festival present and I was maybe six or so when I made it.” He shifted a bit in his seat and muttered, “It may have leaked if you drank out of it from the wrong side, but it still functioned well enough.”
“Indeed,” the figure said, gently placing the mug back on the table. As it was withdrawing its hand, it paused a moment to consider the Tehynji set. “Is that…” Shadow Noj asked, leaning forward and scooting towards the edge of the chair to be closer to the table. “Is that… the game of Ji?”