Noahs figure was on the painting!
His visage filled the canvas, kneeling, and the painter had missed nothing. THE Estuary Eye turned above him with its lemniscate pupil rendered exact. THE Pinion Vigil spread behind him, hundreds of blue-obsidian eyes caught mid-blink, appendages Noah had shown to almost no living thing. But it was where he knelt that held the eye. The painted Noah knelt at the edge of a vast pool of pure white nothing, a whiteness the brush had somehow made deeper than any color, and his hand was submerged in it to the wrist. And rising out of that white, closing around his forearm as if in greeting was another hand.
Enormous, ancient, its flesh worked with turning lemniscate patterns like the Eye and the Vigil and the Root, reaching up from whatever the white was to take hold of the being it recognized. The painted Noah's face was not afraid. It was grand abd imperious and without an ounce of fear!
The second showed THE Creature!
