A slow dream, a slow climb toward waking. Slow rumbles vibrate through flesh. A growing itch
quickens my awareness. There is a crack, a crumble, a cough, a breath, and here, sputtering,
blinking dust and crumbs in the dazzling light, here am I looking out upon a tiled pavement
Three character elaborations from the same background.
Says I, Mairi Morrigan, that's my name. As good as any, I suppose, I've been Mairi, and Marie, and Mary; Morrigan, Moira, even Miranda once, but that was long ago. Many have I been, different but the …
"To save my world, I took on the mantle of the Ideal, and wrapped in its
bonds, lost myself from the world. No longer do I circle with the month,
no longer do my name, colors and lineaments change with the seasons, no