In secret they worked
Magic upon magic,
All their power and all their woe
They turned against Creation
Until at last, it gave way.

Above them, a river of Light,
Before them the thrones of the Garden, waiting,
Beneath their feet
The footprints of the Creator,
And all around them echoed a vast
Silence.


Penned by my hand on the 25th of Glacian, in the year 932 AF.