Lisha walks down the corridors of Meridell castle, still trying to get used to the sights and smells. Everything is so different, so new... and yet, so old at the same time. Summoned into the far past of Neopia, she walks among knights and wizards, lords and ladies, heroes and villains of yore. There was one in particular, though...

She enters the courtyard and sees him there, practicing with his sword and shield. His brow is beaded with sweat, his eyes fixed upon his opponent. He strikes, parries and ripostes, then stops to offer the younger knight some advice. "Raise your eyes," he says. "And keep your shield up. Use your wrists, not your elbows and shoulders. The sword is sharp enough; it doesn't need your help to cut."

The younger knight smiles and nods, then notices Lisha watching from the courtyard's edge. Jeran turns and sees her. "Our lesson is done for today," he tells the younger knight. "Come back tomorrow and I'll show you that trick with the shield bash." The younger knight bows and exits the courtyard... leaving Lisha and Jeran alone.

"I didn't mean to disturb you," she says, looking down at the ground.

"You didn't disturb me," Jeran replies. He sets his sword and shield down, then wipes his brow with the back of his paw.

"It's just..." she starts, then stops. Their eyes meet for a moment longer. Then, she asks.

"It is you... isn't it?"

Jeran's nod is slow; his lips draw tight. "Yes," he says. "It's me."

She runs forward then, crashing into him, nearly knocking Jeran over. "I knew it!" she shouts. "I knew it was you!"

Jeran holds her tight. "And I you," he says.

She looks up at him. "But... when you disappeared... you were my age." Lisha's eyes look confused behind her thick glasses. "What happened?"

He asks her to sit, and they do. Then, he takes a deep breath and tells her the story.

... to be continued.