Wherein something of the future is glimpsed (Ch. 17)
“The crone - ’Don’t pout! Do you think you’ll be coddled for who your father is? Has it crossed your feeble mind that the river and the stars care not for your blood and your fine furs?’ Ademu - ‘The thought had never occurred to me. The woods shattered for my father, and they shall shatter to bear witness to his son.’ The crone - ‘Then you are fool beyond reckoning! But go and seek the birch and the oaks. Perhaps a gnarled root shall put stop to your brash heart!’” Excerpt from ‘Sons of the unburdened’, Assorted plays of the river tribes, Jennept’s archive of northern stories. Opal seemed to be having a marvelous time. To Chy it seemed that Opal was perpetually incensed with a pathological love of life. Despite, or perhaps because of, his true and unwavering belief, this was most offensive to Chy. He’d assayed a broach of this topic and had been met with scorn. They’d just crossed the city limit of Tellyphill, the dead of night and the general deadness of the city a cloak