[u][b]Millennial Fair, 1000 AD[/b][/u]
Some kids dashed up to the boomerang throwing performer just after his show, one held out a piece of parchment and the other had a pen that a well renowned inventor had given them moments before. "Mister? Can we have your autograph?" The boy with the parchment asked, ripping the pen from his sister's grasp.

 A woman who looked to be in her late twenties approached and grabbed the boy by his shoulder, "Now, now, honey," she said, "I'm sure the fox-man has something to be doing now." She glanced up at the performer and gave a kind smile before attempting to pull her child away. The daughter glanced back and forth, then noticed something that caught her attention. 

"Look Mommy! That lady just won a Soda Drinking Contest!" the little girl squealed, pointing up at the next level of the square where a young lady sat at a table covered in empty cans of something that may not have been soda, "Can I try?" The mother's cheeks flushed as she yanked both children away from the man who appeared to be in a fox costume. 

About five feet away, also on the second level of the square, a teenage boy shouted, "No way! You're Fero Maze, the best Mercenary in Guardia!" 

The young boy who was just asking for an autograph broke away from his mother and ran up the stairs to the place exactly between the drinking contest and the mercenary. Unsure which way to go the boy stopped, and when he looked in front of him he realized he had barely missed colliding with a teenage girl who was pacing between him and the huge bell that the boy had forgotten the name of. The mother came running up the stairs just behind him and grabbed his shoulder before looking at the girl. "I'm so sorry if my son bothered you, I have no Idea what's gotten into him." She tugged hard on the boy's shirt hard with the last few words. Something about the girl reminded her of somebody else but she couldn't quite place it.

"No, no, its fine! I hadn't even noticed he was here," the girl said, slightly sorry for the boy. The mother began to yank both children toward the exit of the Fair, quietly scolding them under her breath. Within a few seconds, they were all gone.
[hr]
[u][b]Truce Canyon, 600 AD[/b][/u]
Arkan was here hiding from the guards who had ransacked his home just minutes ago. A bush would be the one thing protecting him from them if they chased him here when he fled the scene. The small clearing here felt somehow familiar, although he had never been here. This feeling felt the same as what he had felt just before the accident all those years ago..... Arkan reached into his pouch and touched the gift he was given by somebody he had once cared for, but was long gone now.