And this morning I told my Lord of my most recent dream. And to him I said, “My dear Lord, last night as you slept, I dreamt. And in this dream, on the occasion of the First Sun of the Second Moon, I stepped into the River Of Glass, with my sisters by my side. And as the third hour faded away, and the fourth, and the fifth, so too did my sisters, until eventually I was all alone. And as the waters rose, I stood my ground, until on the surface the only evidence of my presence was the swirling patterns of my unbound hair as it was pulled along by the shifting currents. And soon even my hair was gone, and the ripples left in memory, until the waters were like some lake of ice beneath the silver sun, the golden moon, the obsidian sky, the bone white glints of distant stars.”