If all we seek is an escape, what does that say about the world we live in? That village, that city, that life? We are desperate with our dreams. What - oh, what - does that say?

For we are all bound in stories, and as the years pile up they turn to stone, layer upon layer, building our lives.

And in the city on all sides, the howling of the Hounds rose in an ear-shattering, soul-flailing crescendo. The Lord of Death had arrived, to walk the streets in the City of Blue Fire.

Never, dear gods. Never mess with mortals.

Shadow is ever besieged, for that is its nature. Whilst darkness devours, and light steals. And so one sees shadow ever retreat to hidden places, only to return in the wake of the war between dark and light.

And over it all, the butterflies swarmed, like a million yellow-pettalled flowers dancing on swirling winds.

Any reasonable ruler would have the expectation and the demand the other way round.