"How about The Hobbit for A Song of Ice and Fire?"

The store clerk's face scrunched up, his eyebrows furrowed,

"Seriously?" he dully retorted, "A PG-13 for an M? No way."

"C'mon," I reply, "Although it may be less direct violence, it really is quite symbolic."

"How so?-"

At this the store's doorbell suddenly chimed as a customer walked in. A man clad in silky blue apparel walked toward the front desk. He was old, quite old, with a scraggly white beard. As he got closer to me, I notice the pendant on his shirt. Two goat horns interlocked in combat whilst a bald eagle, clutching an ionic pillar, flew overhead. He was of the Order of the Codex.

"How may I help you sir?" The clerk said normally,

"I," began the old man, "Have brought with me some of the finest of wares from the East. I hope you have enough Knowledgians to take these!"

From his hand he brought up some old tomes and placed them on the counter. Riddled with dust, the clerk inspected their large and grizzly pages. Noticing the foreign and long-forgotten script, the clerk inquired,

"Tell me, what language were these books written in?"

"Latin." The old man responded sharply, checking his watch in the process.

"Latin? Never heard of it."

"It's a long-forgotten language."

"Well, if my customers can't read these, I'm afraid I can't take them."

The old man, now grinning, took back his books and began slowly walking out cheerier than he had arrived. But before he left, he handed to me a few of these "ancient" scribbles on what he called "parchment." With an almost humorous and whimsical tone, he whispered,

"Be sure to keep these safe. When they finally recover the origins of the Latin language, you will be me and I will be you."

Thinking this man crazy, I tossed the amateurish scribbles in the nearby trash after he left. I didn't want them.

Then I awoke in a sweat. Weirdly, I had the sensation that my dimensions shifted. What a truly odd dream.

Dated: 10/4/4143