softly, upon the veil that separates the beloved, the hand searches for an answer. silence falls into the heart. promise dawns. dark flowers bloom on the threshold of worlds. red and black mingle. light shines through vast, open spaces as it did on the first of days. blue. ink moves shiftly through the untouched air, creating a sign, then two, then many of them, the signs that will tell the story, pass it down to the others, the gentle ones who are not yet born.