“I began life as a thought, a concept, words on a page. That was another thing I stole. Myself. Another time, I was named for a rock.” “A pretty one, I hope.” “A beautiful one,” the man said. “And one that became completely worthless for my wearing it.” “Well, what do men call you now?” “Many a thing, and only some of them polite. Almost all are true, unfortunately. You, however, you may call me Hoid.” “Your name?” “No. The name of someone I should have loved. Once again, this is a thing I stole. It is something we thieves do.” He glanced eastward, over the rapidly darkening Plains. The little
...more
What is in a name? I wish I could decipher this riddle. Well the pretty rock is The First Gem. Whatever that is.
