Stavanger Bay I know it's up for me (if you steal my sunshine)

Reverie had a lot of time to think. Think, and stare at Blossom.
She wondered what the witch had said to Lestan, what she'd truly said. That she would die if she did not raise the children — the ones he desperately did not want her to raise, even at the cost of her life, it seemed. Even at the cost of her.
But the witch; she knew things. She had to have known that this would happen, Reverie thought. So what had she meant by it all? To rip Lestan from her so cruelly, leaving her with nothing but strange pale berries she'd never touched and words of choosing a god that she thought of every day. Find light; choose a god; it sounded so simple, and so utterly mad, put that way.
Eventually she started to realize that the witch had truly fulfilled her end of their bargain, now. She had led her right to the path, and now all Reverie had to do was look, truly look — because her god was right in front of her. At this realization, Reverie went to Blossom, who was sleeping, and touched her perfect face very lightly. Find the light; the sunshine; choose a god. How had it taken her so long to realize, to remember?
She swore to herself that she would never forget this again.