12-30-2025, 07:52 PM
The vision made her weep. Like cemetery bones risen from soft earth with shaking hands, the comfort was cold. The darkness of a home lost surrounded her in stark and desolate beauty. Whispers of those who had once walked drifted, as pale as unknown dreamers – and less seeing. Echoes only. She sank her face to the marble floor. Closed her eyes in lonely surrender. Held on with every fibre anyway, until a tap on her shoulder.
She gasped when it wrenched free. The fold smoothed as though it had never been. Black sand against her forehead, under her clutching fingers.
She didn’t expect the golden eyes when she looked up, and her first instinct was fear. Her memories were in ugly tatters, slipping through her fingers as quickly as the sand. For a moment she only stared.
She gasped when it wrenched free. The fold smoothed as though it had never been. Black sand against her forehead, under her clutching fingers.
She didn’t expect the golden eyes when she looked up, and her first instinct was fear. Her memories were in ugly tatters, slipping through her fingers as quickly as the sand. For a moment she only stared.


![[Image: thal-banner-scaled.jpg]](http://thefirstage.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/08/thal-banner-scaled.jpg)