Prologue
The following is an excerpt from Todd Allensko McCasle's journal. Passionate for history, he wrote to feel important.
Finally, the last month of 1983 is upon us. All of Uno rejoices at the closing of the terrible year. No, I take that back. To say it was a terrible year is an understatement. Yea the year is just a number. But numbers do not change anything, only determination and compassion budge the hearts of the people. I, however, will not be the last one to say our nation is in trouble. Battles rage across our nation as frequent as thunderclouds that sweep through daily across the scarred land. Uno is like a small ship across a vast sea of confusion, death, and despair – it tosses and turns relentlessly without rest. No man is safe from the tides of war. No sanctuaries for vulpines exist – they are all either occupied or destroyed.
Cautious yet optimistic, I remain true to my faith. I honestly believe Uno, the "most blessed among all nations," can fight this disease that maliciously cuts our souls with slow, agonizing jabs. My faith in this hope was kindled for a brief moment today, as I read the newspaper print and learned of a fighter who had assisted in liberating Daulestro from the Mafian forces. He is named Fox McCloud, and from what I saw in the photograph, he has such a fire in his eyes that my own young eyes felt burned and ruptured. The statement below the picture explained how this fighter fights with such a passion, like a fox who is trying desperately to rescue anyone he can find from this burning nation, which, in his eyes, looks to be incinerating. He held an impressive looking weapon in the photograph – it looked like a staff with sharp blades, possibly a Chaljsko staff. If it is, then he must be skilled in that fighting style. The report noted that observation and included how he seems to whip it faster "than the cold hands of death itself." I stared into his face and almost turned away. I thought, 'this man is not normal. This man is something different.'
But how is he different? I could not find an answer, but I do believe he is special. I remember my classes when I was a kit schooled in St. Joshuo in Drawshk, how Father Virsio would give grueling lectures on the three holy guardians of Uno. He spoke of Todd McCasle, the vulpine who freed Uno from Canvhis in the great revolt of Cavask. I learned all of the details of Fox McFelese's life too, how he boldly stood against the Carzinski in 1267 to officially free Uno and become the first king after almost three thousand years of Careinian occupation. My favorite guardian, however, was and still is Todd McVanke II. If I had to choose which fox represented Uno, I would not only say his name without pause, but I would also add he bleeds the blood of all who live in Uno. The great fox united the seven clans of Uno after a century of conflict and fought off our enemies with such wonderful passion. For some reason, when I gazed into the eyes of the fighter in the photograph this morning, I swear I saw a fox who bleeds the crimson color of our flag, the same color of the blood that oozes from our flesh.
Faster than the winter winds, quicker than the sounds of the visca pipes over a battlefield, my young mind tried to understand. I read the article in full, gripping each word with my disturbed eyes. This man, a lowly mercenary, is responsible for the liberation of countless cities and regions all over the western side of Uno? McVankevo's hero, he is the main reason for the large city's existence? No one fights like that without a reason. Something drives him forward, and I must find out what it is. I am patient, however, because I know the Almighty will guide me to what I must do.
I set the newspaper down and stood from my small table and chairs, gazing around my apartment room. Flinging myself back into reality, I began to sob uncontrollably.
Uno is falling deeper and deeper into an unknown abyss, and there is nothing I can do to stop it. Though I have enlisted in the Unonian Royal Army, I am only one soldier, one soldier in the vast equation of history that is forever changing and thus forever unsolved. I only hope that Uno is free and that I become a catalyst to that great day when I, along with my brothers and sisters of Uno, can smile with a pleasant exhale and finally proclaim to each other, to the world, and to God Almighty that we are finally free, that we no longer fear hate but instead have defeated it with love and peace. We must do whatever it takes to reach that day. Perhaps it's wishful thinking to believe that that fox in the photograph will amount to anything, but I am driven to extremes by my dream – to be able to gaze into another Unonian brother or sister's eyes and say to that person without hesitation, "our faces are beautiful now that we have removed our masks." Life is funny like that.
-Todd Allensko McCasle, twenty-fifth generation offspring of the Virtuous
Protector, Todd McCasle.