The object was almost indestructible. A single crystal that had been grown into a rectangularshape, it was about as high as a tall Chosen, three times as wide, and only a hand-span thick.Even without light, its surface shone like water reflecting the moon, a mysterious silverluminosity.Occasionally the light would ripple in a rainbow effect, and there would be pictures, absolutelylifelike pictures, that moved on its strange surface. Or there might be writing, in the elegantand complex script used by the Chosen, or the blocky runes of the Icecarls. The strange, shining object was the Codex of the Chosen, and its rightful place was in theCastle, atop the Mountain of Light in the Dark World. It did not belong in Aenir and shouldnever have been brought there. The Codex had many powers, but none that would help it burrow through stone or make themountain creature move. All of its power lay in knowledge gathering knowledge and givingknowledge.Down in the deep dark of its rocky prison, the Codex could only use one of its many powers. Itcould see and hear through the minds of animals, using them as its eyes and ears.It started to seek out those minds as soon as the mountain that imprisoned it settled down.In the first year, the Codex found eyeless, deaf worms.In the second year, it found blind crickets that scuttled through the many cracks and fissuresof the mountain.In the third year the Codex found lumps of semi-intelligent mold, which had no senses at allthat the magical artifact could understand.For several years after that, the Codex continued to send out its questing mental tendrils,only to encounter useless creatures… or nothing at all.It was not in the Codex's nature to give up. It would keep trying for a hundred years, or athousand.