Morning came too soon.
Appearing hardly rested, the coachman seemed distracted as they enjoyed a hearty start to the day, courtesy of the Innkeeper’s wife. The Nereid had come to him, in the depth of a sleepless night, and the hours passed quickly with her words. Words of anger. Words of fear. But; mostly; words of sorrow.
There was a time, so long ago, that memory of it remains only in tales for children. Once upon that time, all of Nature worked together. Once upon that time, Man knew us, and we knew Man. We walked the woods and hills together. We toiled and tilled together. We sheltered and protected him. He was of us.
Then: the Great Unfolding. Everything changed.
We were forced, gradually, to withdraw into shadow. The Bride of Fire faded first; her children dance no more in open ecstasy. The children of Earth…
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