### As you tap the essence with a deft touch, a rush of old memories washes over your mind. *Rancorous shouts. Warmth and colors. Nyedra gathers.* Stories, music, debate, protest, we come. A young one. Watching at a distance, enraptured. I beckon her to join. Perhaps I am too large, frightening? She vanishes. Screams, stillness, and cacophony. Hearts stop. Stars fall; the song is dead. I swat at the assailant, nothing. Like shadow, gone. Roaring. Howling. I hurl a boulder toward Zakiros. Indifference. Crowds scatter. Night swallows, protects. I bear Mosyn across Eventide, to rest beneath the tree. I sit with her, with my thoughts. I return time and again. Her house, even wanderers, all come to mourn. A tap at my side. The young one from before. Older now, I see her plainly. The Midnight's kin, I should smear her; I want to. She sits at my side. Why has the Lady Peitha sought my counsel? Her words are not unlike Mosyn's, filled with passion and fury. An impossible path before her. My mind spins, heart thrums. Vengeance, purpose, hope, all burning anew.