April 23

regard, motif, crop, rock, bake, mill, theme, slave, stretch, particular

Full Light beings are immortal. They can’t die, but it’s a stretch to say their lives can’t be taken. You just need the right spell, curse, or charmed artifact. Then, though they still exist, it’s in a different form. Like the air fronts that make thunder or fog or the ripples in a pond, or ash.

A minimagical lives for a very long time, unless killed. The closest things the Veil has to cemeteries are Ever Glades–open spaces in forested areas where loved ones become part of the family theme. We revert to tree, rock, or flower and are displayed in symbolic motifs that tell the family story.

I was fixated on death in regard to this particular case because every step of my plan could get someone killed.

Our first step was to visit Prahin’s Mill and my first brush with death was when I told Jasmine I’d signed us on to help bring in the day’s crop of wheat.

“By the Crones, Rowena Hawthorne!” she bellowed, just getting warmed up. “I am not going to slave away in a field…”

“We’re skint,” I rushed ahead. “We have to bargain. We do this and we get the first loaves they bake. You know first loaves from first harvests are as good as coin in some quarters.”

The hitch was that neither of us had a clue what we were doing. And scythes and threshers and columbines could be dangerous in unexperienced hands.