[crow]

A man of perhaps middling height was standing on the edge of a volcano, looking into the smoking crater.

In his hands, he carried a book.

The book looked at once unimaginably old and yet still as new as the day it was bound--- it was merely the make and the materials that gave away the idea of its age. Hide, of an exquisite quality but nothing modern about its processing, was the binding, and the whole of it was sewn together rather than glued.

[crow]

The book was open to a page writ over with strange runes in gold, and on the page opposite, there was a portrait etched out in what appeared to be charcoal. The man depicted had an impassive, stoic bearing, though his features were handsome and not yet marred with age.

"... and there is nothing here to indicate to me that it could have been aught otherwise," the book was saying.

"Is that so?" said the man, not at all surprised to hear the object speak.

[crow]

But then, as he was the owner, perhaps its strange secrets were already known to him.

He inclined his head, smiling as though he had heard something a little amusing. "Well, thank you for your hard work," he said. "I would impose upon you a little longer, but... No, I am sure you are eager to return to your duties."

The book was silent for a long moment, and in that time, the man meandered down from the lip of the crater, heading inward.

[crow]

Despite the crumbling rock, he seemed never to lose his footing; and despite the growing heat, he did not seem the least discomfited by it.

After a time, the book spoke again.

"I am not eager," said the book, "but I would prefer not to waste my time on a fruitless endeavor. What are we to do with something like this, now that we have found it?"

"Ah, that is the question," said the man. "I'm afraid I don't have the answer you seek."

[crow]

"Meaning that you have no answers whatsoever," said the book.

"There are less cruel ways to say it," said the man.

"I am sure there are."

"Ah, was that sarcasm?" The man's eyes brightened, and his smile widened ever so slightly. When the book did not reply, he laughed again. "Come now, do not be upset with me. You know how I enjoy seeing new sides to the ones I work with."

"I wondered what the council meant when they cautioned me against becoming acquainted with you," said the book. "Now I know."

[crow]

"My reputation again, hmm?" said the man. "Very well, I'll send someone else to watch over it in your stead. Thank you for finding it."

The man spoke as though the matter was over, but he didn't close the book. He held it open even as he made his way to the heart of the crater, from which the plume of smoke rose. Up close, relative to him, it was less a plume and more of a column, with blistering heat to match.

[crow]

The man seemed as unaffected as ever. Whatever protection he was being afforded, it clearly encompassed the book and his clothing as well, though nothing about the latter looked particularly remarkable. There were gaps in the ground here from which the smoke was emanating, and now he stood on the edge of one such gap and peered down.

Red and orange and a yellow so near white that it was almost blinding to look at--- but yellow, all the same. Colors.

[crow]

Everything else thus far had been void of them, from the crater itself to the rest of the mountain, washed out as though it were an old photograph. Only here did that change, glimmering in the depths below, half obscured by the smoke it produced.

As the man peered down, the book spoke again. "No," it said, "I will stay. If you merely mean to waste someone else's time with this task, then it makes no difference whether I take it or not."

[crow]

"Don't be a fool," said the man, though his tone was soft and offhand, as though he were merely commenting on the weather. "Of course it makes a difference. You are not interchangeable for someone else."

"We are all the same," said the book. "We have the same skills, the same duties."

"Are you and I the same, then?" said the man. The book fell silent at that. "You see," the man went on, "that is the truth of it. We may begin the same, but our experiences will tell the difference."

[crow]

The book was silent for a long time after that. The man peered into the gaps several different ways, then sighed. "I wonder if I need to go in..." He spoke, but this time in a murmur that seemed to be intended only for himself.

At last, he showed some sign of caution, holding one foot over the edge as if to test something. But when he stepped over the threshold, he did not fall so much as he drifted gently down.

[Color Harvested]