Amongst the many twists and turns of the great hedge maze that comprises most of Diamonds territory, there was an egg. There may have been more eggs, but there was definitely the one. It sat nestled into a corner, the bulk of its mass in what looked like wool just short of reclaimed by the hedges, for the tendrils of evergreen shrubbery had stopped reaching forward at horns that sprouted from the egg (still just the one egg) and looked quite like jewelry. The corner acted as a cradle, and the egg lay in wait there for a time. How long, exactly, we'll never know, for the bushes in the maze have been known to rustle and shift in plain sight, let alone unobserved. The one egg could have been there months, then, or perhaps could have winked into existence just moments before the soft footfalls and the sound of jingling bells approached.

Cegorach jaunted down the green corridors of the Maze, the canopy of night stretched over his head, a blackness punched through by the hard, unblinking eye of the moon. She cast her silvery sheen over everything, right down to the grass beneath the Spinda's feet, lending him what aid she had to give. This didn't make wandering the maze at night any less a treacherous task, and not many had the gall to even consider such an expedition. Cegorach was called the Great Fool, though whether it be for his foolish deeds, his foolish name, or his foolish dress, even he didn't know.

With each of the Fool's light footsteps came the sound of a bell, for on his silly felt shoes, tiny bells were fastened with ribbons and twine. All of his clothes were ridiculous, for they were the trappings of his current character, Pagliacci, the Clown (clown, fool, imbecile, and remember, we have just the one egg, who's taking notes?), and, at the moment, they were the only clothing that Cegorach owned, which suited him just fine. The many plays he performed, for he was an actor of sorts, a storyteller moreover, were great fun but paid little as of late. The gaudily colored clothes would do, in any event, until he made enough bank to afford another outfit.

But the maze! Foolish Cegorach, walking through the maze at night. But Cegorach's eyes glinted with laughter, for didn't he know every inch of the maze, or at least every inch that was open to him? Oh, yes he did! Knew it so well that he could do a cartwheel! And he did, flipped right over onto his hands and turned back up again.

“Wait a minute...” Cegorach said, to no one in particular, rubbing his chin in an exaggerated fashion. Something was wrong about that corner, something miscolored and strange...

Cegorach stood back on his hands, then the one hand, for he had to use the other to hold his hat, also festooned with silly bells, upon his head. He stood like that for a while, staring intently at the one egg, before deciding that yes, it was something that he'd never seen before.

Again he tumbled back to his feet and, taking several bounding steps forward, came to crouch before the egg. A strange thing, a new thing, a potentially silly thing! He liked the prospect of that. Carefully, gently, he extracted egg, which had begun to rock in his presence, from the branches of the maze. They gave way easy enough, almost as if pulling back, releasing the one egg into the Fool's hands. Cegorach tilted his hat to the corner.

“Much thanks, dear maze, for a most wonderful gift. Until next we meet, my lovely corner!” Cegorach called, as he bounded and skipped away, heading home, for the caravan of actors he travelled with, for a warm place to rest his head. As he moved, he spoke to the one egg.

“I do believe I'll call you Rillietann. I'm not sure what it means, but it sure sounds nice, doesn't it, sweetling?” The Great Fool laughed, holding his prize tight as he sprinted through the night.