Epilogue

Epilogue…

His lush golden hair swayed gently to the whispering wind as he enjoyed a hot cup of tea. He had his legs crossed, seated on a boulder by the crackling fire place.

He picked the cup from its saucer and was about to take a sip when the entirety of “that” metaphysical plane shook to its cognitive foundations. The wind howled to the furious distortion in space. The cup in his hand cracked and shattered to pieces, the liquid drying up instantly.

As though the space before him was an invisible wall, it rippled as a hand punctured it. A second hand came through and simultaneously, they pulled space apart like a soft piece of fabric. It was the silver-white haired, crystal-blue eyed Ian Whitefield, that walked out of the rip in space. It mended itself as he completely walked through.

His crystal-blue eyes were a bit pale under the umbrella of his arched eyelashes. His face was stern as he stood on a spot, glaring at his father, Ghordon.

Ghordon dusted off the ceramic crumbs on