![]() ![]() Is it real? He believes so, but he is no longer sure he can trust his senses. His thoughts are a cloud of duneflies, myriad shattered memories buzzing angrily in his elongated skull. If this memory is his, then was he once mortal? He thinks so, but cannot remember. All his hurts and pain were washed away as the light remade him. ![]() He remembers carrying a withered ancient in his arms, and them both borne into the sky by the sun's radiance. Once, perhaps, when the sun disc gleamed like gold atop the great Palace of Ten Thousand Pillars.
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