She looked at them the way an era looks at a single day!
THE REMINISCING WIDOW had risen from the page of an obsidian journal, and she stood above the golden spring with her barely-perceivable face angled down, her two golden halos turning their slow deliberate circles in the steam-heavy air, and she did not move or speak as she regarded the two small frozen figures below her.
She did not need to hurry. She had presided over evenings that outlasted kingdoms, and two lifeforms arrested mid-embrace in a sacred spring were not, by any measure of her long experience, cause for urgency!
The dusk she carried pressed down as her gold eyes swept across the figure of Thalia Vasiliou and settled upon THE True Human Emperor, and she spoke!
|THE REMINISCING WIDOW speaks.|
|It is always the same. Lifeforms touch power. They look at the existing structure. And then they promise themselves that they will change it.|
|Why?|
