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Monday, December 12, 2011

From "The Emperor's Opal" by Christopher Morgan

As we watched intently, the craftsman working on the front panel walked over to a shelf against the back wall and picked up a velvet pouch. He brought it back to the table, undid the drawstring and emptied the contents onto a piece of hide he had on the table beside his work area.

Out rolled Orphanus. There could be no doubt this was the opal of legend. It was oblong in shape, about an inch and a half tall and two inches wide. It was about half an inch thick at its thickest point. The craftsman picked it up and turned it around, admiring its splendor. It was a white opal, just like the one I had given Tammy, but that was like saying a Buick and a Bentley are both cars. This opal was wondrous. As the craftsman slowly turned it in the light, the stone blazed with dazzling shades of red and silver, reflecting beams of color in a multitude of directions. The stone seemed to glow with an inner light independent of the sun. It was as if it was a living entity, not just a rock mined from the ground.

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