Prologue
It was around five thirty in the afternoon on a fine summer day when the funeral finally commenced. Many were there, old friends, new friends, and even some relatives that they tracked down. "Everyone please find your seats." said a loud voice from the pedestal on the stage, the voice belonged to a tall, burly man, who appeared to be in his early fifties. He had on a black tuxedo, and a pair of glasses resting on top of his big bald head. "Let us proceed, we gather here today to remember Steven Paul." he paused to let the words sink in, for him, and the gathering. His waiting had finally paid off.
His speech was only thirty minutes, but it definitely had the most impact. After him, several others came up. They felt abased by his speech though, it sort of ruined their moods. He sat through it all. After the funeral was over he trotted over to Stevens old tent that he had been living in for the past five years. When he arrived he headed straight for the old lockbox hidden in the dresser. Steven had entrusted the key to him, now that Steven was gone he would use it.
Click, Click, when the box, as he undid the caches. As he opened the lid a bright light shone out. "Thank you... young man." was all he said, he shut the lid and headed out, for he had work to do.
YOU ARE READING
The Power Stones
AventuraAcross time and space there have been four powerful stones, each one leaving a revolutionary effect on the world around it. while reading this book you will travel from the thirteenth century to the revolution to modern day USA. The Power Stones is...
