hello.
do i know you?
oh, do you find it odd that a person unknown to you says hello?
yes i do, and i might add that i also find it offensive.
that is all very well, but not relevant to this particular case, as i know you very well.
i do not think so.
my name is t t tolliver, and i am your best friend.
not that i can recall.
let me refresh your memory. you are j j jarvis, and your date of birth is 3/3/1003. you were born in the village of k—————, which no longer exists, but did then on the northernmost border of the late lamented holy roman empire. your father was a reverend abbott, noted for his vigorous persecution of heresy, and your mother was burned as a witch.
cursed from birth, you have wandered the earth for over a thousand years, never stopping long in one place. we met on the coast of madagascar on june 6, 1666,, in a raging storm, and i gave you a small statue of st sardath, carved from the bone of a man-beast known as a kurvil.
we promised to remember each other forever and to come to each other’s aid whenever summoned.
but you sailed away and i never saw you from that day to this. if i am not mistaken, you still have the statue of st sardath in your possession.
do you know me now?
the person addressed as j j jarvis staggered back, and collapsed on to a nearby park bench.
what, what do you want from me? j j jarvis gasped.
nothing - for now, t t tolliver replied with a smile.
and with that, t t tolliver disappeared into the night.
a single tear fell from the left eye of j j jarvis.
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