New Foundations

“Hurry, please,” the Royal Guard commanded, his black cloak fluttering around his ankles with every long stride. Thaller did his best to hurry, but the tiny crystal balls in his woven satchel made muted, almost ominous clicks. He glanced down as much as possible, peering into the open neck of his bag, hoping that they remained carefully wrapped in the soft cloth he placed them in this morning. Sir Kassiter would be most displeased if any of them broke.