Gade picked his way up the rocky path towards the clifftop. He liked this place. He and Fellan had spent many a breezy summer day up here. But lately, Fellan spent his days locked away with his father, instead. Fellan’s father was a crackpot, and a radical, always working to undermine the council and getting the townsfolk to believe in his crazy ideas.

Fellan’s absence had only irritated Gade at first, but now he was worried. Fellan came to him in the night, whispered of a meeting, saying only that he had a secret that he had to share.

When Gade crested the hill, Fellan was standing at the top, staring out over the valley below.

“Gade,” Fellan said. “What makes the world go round?”

“Maldesso,” Gade replied. “Our great god makes the world go round. This is known.”

“Gade,” Fellan turned to look at his friend. “It isn’t true.”

“Maldesso makes the world go round, Fellan,” Gade said. “You need to stop listening to your father.”

“I’m sorry, Gade,” Fellan said.

“So am I.” Gade balled his hands into fists.

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