Blackwater Islands Who will breathe the earth we lost

of course, trikova.

she knew he would not fail her; he never had.

isangrim, my secondborn, after the keeper, in a fashion. and ptolemy, my darkling lastborn.

the listener stood in silence for a moment, gazing on the slight form of her sleeping firstborn. her thoughts had turned to the future. soon they would all be grown. it would be her own turn, then. she would take the wispmother's place, as she saw in her dreams. it would be the prophet writhing in her own blood, screaming, torn from the inside out.

perhaps one day, the children we raise will truly be our own.

she swept in close to gather morgra, and left the keeper with that final thought, disappearing behind the waterfall to tuck the girl among her brothers.