-(1)-

It would be so. If the Shadow Man came at night, then day would be his shelter. If the dark harbored evil things then light would be his fortress. A king in his empty, empty castle. But there was no light here, not a scrap to be found or a sound to be hear. There was no color. It was as was.

Chapter the Twenty-sixth

It was a beautiful work of art. The sun glistened off its graceful curves of gold, and glimmered among the majestic shapes of the engraving etched into the face. It was big, bold and stunning, fit for the elite, and especially for Josiah Deacon.

Josiah Deacon was a big, bold man. He was exactly the kind of person that would wear such a ring. His forward and abrupt manner was magnified tenfold in the shimmering brightness of the huge diamond. The only thing more fearful and imposing than Josiah Deacon was Josiah Deacon wearing the ring of St. Vincent.