Someone he noted, had recently tended the plot, as both Wortham’s stone and Jermyn’s monument were free of weeds, dirt and debris and adorned with handwoven wreaths of spring flower. He hoped, as he sat with his back to Wortham’s stone, imagining he was leaning back-to-back with the man himself, that Korahm would come, bring him Wortham’s words or address him with a few of his own. Instead, he was addressed only by the voices of songbirds in the trees as he watched the ebb and flow of the ball of light in his open palms, gold and silver sparking and popping as his internal energy was fed into it. “I know you can hear me, sinrec. I know you are there,” he whispered, ignoring the passage of time, ignoring the distant noises from the chelle. “War is coming…and I pray you keep your son…keep all of us…safe.”
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Date: 2023-12-29 06:08 pm (UTC)“I know you can hear me, sinrec. I know you are there,” he whispered, ignoring the passage of time, ignoring the distant noises from the chelle. “War is coming…and I pray you keep your son…keep all of us…safe.”