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Shintullah, Book 1, 2nd StoryLong did Epitome frolic o'er the earth, alone except for the trees and Miranda. Yet she could not often partake in his play, for a pattern had emerged that she could not be distracted from. It seemed that her own wanderings had made impressions in the earth, for in places that she had paused, much magic had gathered, and in places she was restless magic flowed past as easily and unpredictably as wind. And it struck her that the aura of this planet had become like her own.
And she was pleased, for that meant her long years of waiting were finally bearing fruit, and it meant also that Physics would never be allowed to come.
It came to be that the denizens of the were able to manipulate magic as easily, if not as skillfully, as Miranda herself. But no purpose for it could be discerned in anyone's mind until the Great Tree spoke. Thee who's seed was strewn in the remains of Epitome's great flower had acquired a wise and inquisitive mind, and it asked Miranda, "Can you not show us, the tree
Crown of ThornsShe wakes up with red staining her pillow
and the taste of blood like iron in her mouth
It stains her teeth and leaks from her lips, and as she
rinses her mouth out, she can’t help thinking that
it’s better than dirt and ashes
it feels like she’s wearing a noose
of broken promises and shattered glass
that tightens around her throat with every day that passes
She nails a smile to her face
and doesn't let herself think the word dying
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