"Who are you?" Melcorka asked.
"We are the people of this land," the man said. "We have heard of other people in other lands across the sea, but we have never met any."
"I am Melcorka of Alba," Melcorka said, "and this is Bradan the Wanderer." She smiled at the man. "In truth, sir, are we the first people you have ever met, apart from yourselves?" Glancing at Bradan, she accepted the tray.
"We have never left this land," the man said. "And nobody ever comes here." He bowed again. "Eat and drink, pilgrims, for we wish to welcome you."
"Is this the temple, man who has never left this land yet who speaks our language perfectly?" Bradan tapped his staff on the rocky ground.
"This has always been our language," the man said.
"And have these always been your clothes?" Reaching out, Bradan
