Prologue

The following is an excerpt from Todd Allensko McCasle's journal. A lover for history, he wrote to feel important.

Finally, the last month of 1983 is upon us. All of Uno rejoices at the closing of this terrible year. No, I take that back. To say it was a terrible year is an understatement. But yea the year is just a number. 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. Uno is like a small ship across the vast sea of confusion, death, and despair – it tosses and turns. No man is safe from the tides of war. No sanctuaries for vulpines exist – they are all occupied or destroyed.

Cautious yet optimistic, I remain true to my faith. I honestly believe Uno, the nation '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. I read the newspaper print and learned of a fighter who assisted in liberating Daulestro from the Mafian forces. He is named Fox McCloud, and from what I saw in his photograph, he has such a fire in his eyes that my own young eyes feel burned and ruptured. The statement below explained how this fighter fights with such a passion, like a fox whose is trying desperately to rescue anyone he can find from his 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. It could be a Chaljsko staff. If it is, than that means he is 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 this man is special. I remember my classes when I was a kit going to St. Joshuo in Drawshk, how Father Virsio would give grueling lectures on the three guardians of Uno. He spoke of Todd McCasle, the vulpine who freed Uno from Canvhis in the great revolt in Cavask. I learned all of the details of Fox McFelese's life, how he boldly stood against the Carzinski in 1267 to officially free Uno and become the first king of Uno since almost three thousand years of Careinian occupation. My favorite guardian, however, was Todd McVanke II. If I had to choose which fox represented Uno, I would not only say his name without a breath, 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 between them, 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 our blood.

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 eastern side of Uno! McVankevo's hero, he is the main reason for the large city's existence. But no one fights like this without a reason. Something drives him forward, and I must find out what it is. I am patient, however, because I know God 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. 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 deep sigh and finally proclaim to each other, to the world, and to God 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.