Opening Mountains, Parting Seas

Rain pattered against the window.

Feilier sat in her chair, quill in her left hand, staring out the window as if her mind had wandered elsewhere.

The wind drove dense sheets of rain against the floor-to-ceiling windows. Damp cold seeped into the room, leaving the air so saturated it felt as though she could wring water from it. "What a downpour," the Regent remarked behind her. "A lot of people may freeze to death this time."

Feilier lowered her eyes past the courtyard crowded with guards on duty, the flowerbeds of rare plants, and the colonnade, toward the city beyond the Manor. Beneath the lead-gray night sky, the city seemed veiled in gray. Mist rose through the rain, and a hazy, dreamlike feeling slowly spread through her.

"The days are getting brighter," she said, setting down her quill and looking up at the sky. "At this rate, the darkness caused by the Great Cataclysm will be gone in three months at most. Hah. So that's how the end of the world ends."

Knock, knock, knock!

A hurried knock suddenly came from outside the door.

Feilier frowned slightly and turned to the Regent.

He understood at once. He opened the door and took a sodden letter from a handsome male Attendant.

Glancing at the Sealing Wax, he said softly, "It's from His Grace the Duke."

"Read it to me." Feilier rose, all trace of carelessness vanishing from her face.

Normally, the Duke communicated with her directly over long distances through a Threefold Pilgrimage Voicebearer. He rarely sent letters.

If he had sent one now, its contents must be important.

For the moment, only a physical letter could avoid interference and distortion, making it the most serious and formal means of communication. At Feilier's instruction, the City Governor answered respectfully, broke the