12/23/21 Snippet, THE STARS ARE WRONG.

Getting close to the end!

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The Vicar strode through this strangeness where I forced myself not to cower. As he woke, he spoke. “Feel that warm breeze, Guardian! Heat from the west, with the smells of the mountain upon it. Iron and stone, tree and grass; that is the true scent of the land! So it was here, in the oldest days.”

“But those days are long past, Vicar,” I said, and was amazed to hear myself speak. “This is the modern time. It is the time of Seacity, and the other cities and realms of the world. The wind has risen; but soon it will fade again. Just as it faded once before.”

“Spoken like a Guardian,” said the Vicar, seemingly not put out by my moment of defiance. “Although perhaps not the kind of Guardian your masters seek. — But, yes. Long ago, when the stars were right, the wind faded, and the world that now is came to be.” 

His voice turned triumphant. “But look up, Guardian, if you dare. Look up, and tell me if the stars are still right.”