Back to being Empty
Empty.
Empty of anything which has mass.
Full of Fire and Air.
Empty of anything which has mass.
Full of Fire and Air.
The spandrils of magic that weave or fragile control into a tapestry of life and Godly amusement are embelished in knots. Little knots hiding in the fabric. Tangled knots making a gnarled mess for anyone with the heartwill to fight them. Tight knots of indestructible build. Loose knots that can be unweaved. Those knots are what I write about.
Baby... :(
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