Ceylon

Ceylon was a child, very much like yourself.

Well, perhaps not so very much. Unless you are orphaned and homeless and often alone; unless you've wandered from jungle to forest and joined up with a traveling merchant caravan; unless you stand no taller than my kneecap and have skin that smells like the bark of a cinnamon tree, you are not so very much like Ceylon.

He was a treeborn, and if you saw him you would think, “My, isn't he a gangly little fellow! All arms and legs like branches on...