Pieces slowly tumble into place, and that known, can never be unseen, as visions and old acquaintances intrude. Katrisha snapped shut a white tome, and added it to a bag, then picked up the last. It didn’t all fit. She was quite frustrated by the problem, puzzled more so. Two books were replacing one, but neither as large as the first, nor as large as the one Kiannae had claimed in Mordove. She needed to be out of the room before noon, or the whole point of packing up would be moot.
About The Author
Author, artist, programer, possible anachronistic fuzzy black kitten at the end of the universe - forging sprawling worlds of mercurial myth and mundane majesty.
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