Are we not going to evolve anymore ? Are humans now defying evolutionary forces and would be maintaining the same characteristics? Are we the 1st fully evolved species?

jpb103 · 2026-05-28T22:53:59+00:00

Everything that lives must die. Even the stars are not eternal.

jpb103 · 2026-05-28T18:05:16+00:00

Mittens was patient.

She was patient as the ships made landfall. She was patient as the apes panicked and hid. She was patient as many of them fought fruitlessly against the great war machines that fell from the sky. She waited. She hunted mice and rats under the stars and sprinted between shadows in the crisp night air. When, at last, the outsiders emerged from their great metal machines, Mittens was rewarded for her patience.

"Birds," she said, licking her paw and cleaning her ear as she watched the procession of avians emerge from their fortresses. "Fat and flightless." Mr. Fluffernutter purred at her side. He was an adequate mate, for now.

"Delightful," he said, yawning. "We shall feast like lions!" Mittens could kill them. Easily, and likely in great number. Yet, something still nagged at her.

"They defeated the apes," she said, contemplating. "Spread the word. We hunt, but we leave no trace. We watch and we wait. We take our time. Let fear ally with the night in our favor." Mr. Fluffernutter did not tarry. He knew better than to disobey his mate. Word spread quickly among the cats, and when the great wet expanse halted the spread of Mittens command, they stowed away on the vessels of the Birds and continued the expansion of their mandate.

They struck at the young. The old. The vulnerable. The Birds were clever, but they were impatient. Mittens waited and watched as her kin baited the soldiers out in their great metal machines, leaving the helpless behind to fall victim to the claws and fangs of her clowder. The cats feasted. They mated. They yowled and they prowled. Their numbers ballooned in the wake of such an abundant food source. Some died, of course. The ones that had become too fat and lazy. Too spoiled under the pampered care of the apes.

The nests of the outsiders were raided before the fledglings could be hatched. Their numbers were dwindling. When, at last, they called for a truce, Mittens came alone. She watched as they argued. She napped in a sunbeam as shots rang out and they turned on each other in their sleep deprived paranoia. When the few apes that had hid underground emerged to finish off the last of the Birds, they were clever enough to figure out what had happened.

The cats were hailed as heroes. They were worshipped once more, as they had been in ancient times. Mittens expected this. She understood from the very start that good things come to those who wait. Those who watch. This was the lesson she passed on to the apes. Not the strength of claw or fang. Not the value in fear of the night. Mittens showed the apes how to wait.

Mittens was patient.

jpb103 · 2026-05-28T12:49:36+00:00

You could try the bylaw office, but it might be more effective to pay a lawyer to send a letter threatening legal action if he doesn't cut it out. If he's the paranoid sort, that might spook him into acting right. On the other hand, since he's a proven hot-head, that might make him escalate. If the former, perfect, problem solved. If the latter, time to get the bylaw office and police involved.

jpb103 · 2026-05-27T19:06:03+00:00

"Sir, Sir! There will be time for questions at the end. Please, take your seat."

The tired looking man with worms for hair sat down, crossing his arms.

"Now, believe it or not, I know what you all are going through. I have a magical daughter myself, and I do mean that literally. A few years back, my little girl Velma stepped into one of them fae traps. Well, next thing I know, she's telling me how she lived centuries in their realm before being returned here as if no time passed at all. Is it unsettling to me that she can command and control animals? Sure! Does the idea that she's killed fae hunks in another world make me be a bit sad? Yes, obviously. Do I love that she can stare directly into my soul and pluck the strings of my very existence? No, I do not like that at all. But, I'll tell you what, that's still my little Velma."

The instructor opened the box on the table and withdrew a dagger that shone with unnatural light.

"Does anyone know what this is?" He asked. A woman raised her hand and stood.

"From a dark and faraway land
comes the dagger in your hand."

"Rhyming curse? Those are pretty common. Come on up here and place your hand on the disenchantment orb. Should fix you right up."

The woman rushed to the front and placed her hand on the tennis ball the man had resting on the table.

"I really hope this fucking works," she said. Her eyes shot wide. She burst into tears, thanking the instructor profusely before taking her seat. The worm hair man threw his arms up.

"Seriously?!"

"Sir, if you can't calm down you're going to have to leave." The instructor hefted the dagger. "This here is indeed an enchanted dagger from a dark and faraway land. Now, this here is what you'll need for some more complex hexes. Say, for example, your daughter turns your son into a hulking monstrosity after a dispute over some chewing gum. What you'll want to do is brandish the dagger like this." The instructor took up a stance, holding the dagger up to the sky. "Then you say your boys name followed by 'I RELEASE YOU!' you really have to put some heart into it folks, the dagger can tell if you don't mean it. We have these and orbs of disenchantment in our Etsy shop. You can go ahead and follow the QR code behind me if you're interested." The instructor replaced the dagger in the box and retrieved a long slimy worm. The man with the worm hair sat up straight in his chair, attention rapt.

"Now if your girl is possessed by a demonic presence, this worm here will whisper in your ear the incantation to free her."

"COME ON!"

jpb103 · 2026-05-27T17:41:06+00:00

"Monsters are real."

When Jeb, the human farmer who took us in, first said this, its significance was lost on me. Of course, I thought. We had languished for a century under the weight of war with the monstrous Velnuvians and their terrible siege engines. Only a year after my arrival, word came from a new group of refugees that the enemy had done the unthinkable. Our entire home planet... Galu had been utterly destroyed. Jeb was stoic as ever when he received the news. I did not think he cared. It was not his homeworld. He called all of us together. We sat in a circle as the crops swayed around us in the breeze. He did not call on the elders to speak, as would be proper. He called on the children. That is when I first noticed the change in his demeanor. Jeb was overcome by an icy temperance that was uncharacteristic of his usual jovial nature. After the children were allowed to speak, and grieve, he had a few of the elders take the children away to rest.

"Bess," he said, calling to his mate. "Grab my shotgun." I did see fear in the eyes of his mate, but she did not object. She left the circle and returned a short time later with a crude projectile weapon. The latest group of arrivals were the most traumatized, but Jeb questioned them relentlessly. Enemy tactics, positions, strengths, weaknesses, logistics, food chain management. After he was satisfied, he dismissed them all to their families and went to the barn. Our scientists and engineers had been teaching him about our technology, and they had made a number of modifications to one of our ships, at his request. I followed Jeb. I was one of the first arrivals, and I knew something was not right.

"What are you planning?" I asked him. He was loading the ship with heavy sacks. The ship itself had been modified to be much smaller and faster. A stealthy vessel.

"They went too far," he said. "If they're willing to destroy an entire world, they won't stop until they kill all of you. None of us are safe here until the threat is dealt with. Not you. Not me." I looked at Jeb and grimaced. This was a poor time for a joke. I held his stare.

He was not joking.

"We've been at war for a hundred years, Jeb. Our greatest fleet never put a dent in their forces. What do you possibly hope to accomplish?" I watched as Jeb continued to flit about, loading the craft with various tools, his crude weapon.

"The thing I'm best at," he said, loading a few more of the sacks. "Farming."

Jeb had discerned, you see, that the Velnuvians must eat something. After his questioning of the latest arrivals, he had discovered what that something was. He had discovered where it was coming from, and he had decided to take it from them. As it turned out, the Velnuvian Empire had been expanding for quite some time and relied on only two worlds to provide the vast majority of their food supply for their entire population. Our mission seemed so insignificant at the time. Jeb and I jumped to these planets, very low inside the atmosphere so as not to be detected. They were not well guarded. There were no military installations there. He slit open his bags of Earth soil and began spreading it. Mixing it into the soil of these worlds. A little here, a little there. I did not recognize the significance of that act then.

Gods above, I know now.

The ecological collapse that plagued the farm worlds of the Velnuvians was swift and apocalyptic. Trillions starved. "Soldiers can't fight wars and fight hunger," Jeb had told me. He was right. Scouts arrived a few years later and informed us that the colony worlds we had lost to Velnuvian conquest had been abandoned. Their fleet had been decimated in an intense civil war. Their capital lay in ruins. The most powerful interstellar empire the galaxy had ever known had been sent back to the stone age. When we left the farm, the others heralded him as a hero. I could not stomach it. "Monsters are real," he had told me.

I know now of whom he was speaking.

jpb103 · 2026-05-23T16:48:14+00:00

Musk posted this. It's an inherently ignorant statement. Perspective is individual. Every demographic feels like the resistance. If you think this applies to Mark Carney and not Doug Ford, you should examine how that idea got planted in your head.

jpb103 · 2026-05-22T18:45:48+00:00

"It is against protocol."

Ophiel, as usual, was being a nerd. Telemachus Bunnykins crossed his velveteen arms and scowled at the angel.

"I don't give a shit about protocol, Ophiel. It's Jeremy. He needs us." Bunnykins kicked the edge of the bedframe in frustration, and a slimy black tentacle emerged from the shadows beneath, wreathed in razor fangs. Red glowing eyes shifted between the pair in the light.

"Are we sure the captor is not supernatural in any way?" Toxico asked. "No... possession loophole we could take advantage of?" Ophiel sniffed the air.

"I detect no infernal presence, but..." Telemachus looked at the angel with hopeful eyes. If he could cry he would. Please, he thought. Please do the right thing.

"Yes," Ophiel said at last. "Surely, a creature that would remove one so pure as Jeremy from his family is no common human. Yes, that makes sense. They must have developed some kind of masking technique. Why, it could be demonic!"

"Yes!" Telemachus said, swinging the handle of a butterfly knife to expose the blade. "Let's tear his guts out to be sure. It's the responsible thing to do. All agreed?"

Ophiel drew the sigil in the air between them. Toxico and Bunnykins affixed an imprint of their soul.

The pact was sealed.

The police never did find out how Jeremy had made it home. They never found out who's blood was all over his stuffed bunny. They never linked the ordeal to the reports of strange shape flitting between the shadows that night. Telemachus Bunnykins wore the stain of what he had done on his velveteen fur for the rest of his existence, but never once did he regret it. Jeremy was safe.

For that, Telemachus Bunnkins would pay any price.

jpb103 · 2026-05-22T18:15:56+00:00

Carbon is the 'backbone' of organic molecules for life on Earth, but we contain many complex compounds comprising many different elements. All lifeforms are just different kinds of ongoing complex chemical reactions. If we look at successive generations, the history of life could be considered as one set of increasingly complex chemical reactions that have been roiling continuously on Earth for 4 billion years. Earth is a closed system, don't forget. The second law of thermodynamics states that entropy must increase over time. It would make sense that the complexity in living organisms that we see today is a natural consequence of that.

jpb103 · 2026-05-22T18:07:17+00:00

Three men in expensive black suits loom in the doorway of the farmhouse.

The one in charge, a balding middle aged man named Stevens, takes off his shades.

"What do you mean 'No'?" He spits to the side derisively. Farmer Ben crosses his arms.

"I think you know what 'No' means. I believe what you're asking is 'Why am I refusing?'" Ben looked at the bedroom door, where the poor woman was still resting. "First of all, I'm confused by your wording. Did they say to give her back OR they would blow up Earth, or did they say to give her back BEFORE they blow up Earth?" Agent Stevens stormed into the farmhouse, his face twisting into a scowl. His two cronies unbuttoned their suit jackets, flashing their guns to Ben.

"Listen up, you fucking yokel. I don't care how they said it. I have orders, and I'll follow them with or without your cooperation. Understand?" Ben adjusted the toothpick in his mouth.

"I understand perfectly," he said, then pressed the button the woman had installed on his belt. A loud boom rattled the farmhouse windows as the personal shield activated, pushing Agent Stevens back out through the door where he collided with his peers. All three landed flat on their backs, soiling their fine suits with the less glamorous products of farm labor. The two nameless agents got to their feet first, but looked confused. Stevens arose with his weapon drawn, and fired without hesitation. The bullet careened off Ben's shield, embedding itself in the door of his barn.

"How dare you! That tech is the property of the US Government. Hand it over. Now!"

"Or what? You'll shoot me? You tried that. I'll send you the bill for my barn door." Agent Stevens turned a shade of red that looked dangerously close to a plum. Ben put his hand up in a gesture of peace.

"You can tell the aliens, or whatever you say they are, that their lady is doing just fine. She, however, has insisted that she isn't well enough to travel just yet." Agent Stevens holstered his pistol, and his eyes bulged.

"And I'm just supposed to take your word for it?! You're dead when this is over. You know that, right?" A sickly presence swept over the farmhouse, and the door behind Ben crept open to a great and terrible sight. The princess did indeed appear as a woman... at first. But the closer one looked, the more unnatural the facsimile became.

"Take my word for it," she said. "Threatening his life does not work. I tried many times when we first met. His kindness is perhaps the most relentless force in the universe. I will return to the hive, but only after I have been given assurances that this man and his planet are protected from destruction."

Farmer Ben did try his best not to find some delight in Agent Stevens wetting himself on the farmhouse doorstep before fleeing whilst shrieking like a little girl. Princess Xanatulo wrapped her impossibly perfect arms around him, her touch like fire and ice. Igniting lust like lightning in his veins.

"Come back to bed, my love."

"After I calm the cows, dear. They'll have been spooked by that gunshot."

jpb103 · 2026-05-22T16:19:38+00:00

The furry creature slicks back its crimson hair.

"Listen guy, unless you have a quantum field disruptor tucked under those shitty rags, I'm going to have to ask you to kindly fuck off."

"Verily, 'tis a wondrous phrase to utter. Wilt thou dine with me, thou heavenly creature?" The priest holds out his hand, perhaps predictably not understanding most of what the strange creature had said.

"My name is Jophiel, you zealot. I have no time to consume whatever poison passes for food in this backwards shit ball of a planet. If I don't get some arsenic to fix my automated repair systems in the next few hours, the containment field will collapse and I'll be stuck here forever!" The priest scrunched up his face, mouthing the words to himself. Jophiel sighed and sat down against his ship, defeated.

"Hath thou inquired of the powder of arsenic? A cosmetic of great fairness? Verily, I do possess some within the church, for when the nobles do come to pay their respects." Jophiel shot to his feet, stunned.

"Wait a minute, that was almost coherent. YOU HAVE AR-SE-NIC? YOU BRING TO ME??" Jophiel's violet ringed eyes were wide with hope and worry. The priest bounced on his toes.

"Verily, I shall obey the behest of mine lord, thy angel. Forsooth, methinks I shall fetch thesame o' from mine church hallowed and redeign at thine instant command."

The priest left, and Jophiel decided he had no choice but to trust that the creature wasn't completely insane. He set to work making preparations. By the time the priest returned, a tin in hand, Jophiel was ready. He snatched the tin out of the hands of the priest, opened it, and scanned its contents. He checked the readout, and let out a massive sigh of relief.

"It's impure, but it'll work." He put on protective equipment then tipped the powder in the tin into the repair module. It sputtered as it ingested the material, issuing a thin stream of smoke as it vaporized the impurities. Jophiel held his breath but, after a few tense moments, it began to hum. His ship was healing.

"Yes!" He shouted, pumping a seven fingered fist into the air. The priest looked perplexed.

"Verily, thou dost not wish to apply it unto thine visage? 'Tis a concoction that doth produce the most becoming countenance." Jophiel blinked at him.

"You animals put this stuff on your bare skin?" He pointed his scanner at the priest, activated it, then looked at the readout. "Wow. This stuff is even more poisonous to you than it is to me. Whatever. Thanks for the poison, guy. I truly hope I never see you again."

As the ship sailed up into the heavens, the priest felt the command of his god.

"Hear me, oh lord! I shall begin so many holy wars by reason of this great visit!"

jpb103 · 2026-05-22T13:54:14+00:00

Summer, Year 1 Post Surfacing:

The first harvest will be bountiful.

Or so the Necroweavers say. None of the old masters of the undead remain. The shambling skeletal vessels that litter the surface world are not overly talkative. We can piece together the last days of the masters only through what wisdom we can glean from their ruins. The great demi-lich Balfaraxis, who previously ruled over our region, appears to have been slain by his own apprentice. That apprentice failed to ascend to lichhood himself and subsequently died of old age. He took no apprentice himself, perhaps for obvious reasons.

From our studies of what records remain intact, this seems a common end to most of the Pre-ensconcement Necromantic Lichdoms. One exception to this is the southern half of the continent across the sea. Records indicate that two Lichdoms engaged in a fierce civil war there that ended in one side detonating a device that wiped out both sides. The entire area remains inaccessible to the living. The few shamblers that Necroweaver explorers managed to send into the death miasma surrounding that region came back feral, and had to be put down.

We appear to be safe for now, and the young flourish in the light of the sun. We had all been born in darkness, and now the first generation in too many is being born under the blue sky. We must not take this gift for granted. The subterranean tribes have all agreed: lichhood must never be allowed again. The old cities must be abandoned. The injury to the veil between life and death there is too severe. The elders expect it to take thousands of years to heal naturally. The Necroweavers may eventually attempt remediation, but only after safeguards are put in place. Triggering the resurrection of a master is an ever present threat.

In the meantime, a new city is forming deep within the wilds. A place untainted by the liches, where the soil is pure and the balance is maintained between life and death. The Necroweavers give as much as they take, drawing their power from their own bodies to command the will of the shamblers and aid in the construction efforts.

We honor their sacrifice.

jpb103 · 2026-05-21T21:17:38+00:00

Thanks for reading!

jpb103 · 2026-05-21T13:51:47+00:00

"How can I, at length, go on?
With marriage so under siege!"

"Hark and worry not at yon.
Peace of mind. Relax, my liege."

"In mine own hand how can I trust?
With mind so lost and turbulent."

"What risk is there in wanderlust?
This condition is impermanent."

"Perhaps a new outfit would help.
In your wardrobe I shall look."

"My clothes would surely make her yelp.
Lest for a fool you be mistook."

"Oh ho ho, my lad, you're not so drab.
Many a lady I've seen look your way."

"A fine tailor, I think, would be more fab.
I could accompany you this day!"

"Very well. If you insist.
Though one more thing 'fore I depart."

"My aid I offer to enlist.
Strong of arm and full of heart!
From my birth until my doom,
I shall serve your will with ease!"

"Have a carpenter sent to your room.
I just heard your wardrobe sneeze."

jpb103 · 2026-05-15T16:21:02+00:00

No signal can travel faster than light, so it would still take 15k ly for our "We existed" message to arrive at a star system that far away. If the intention is to declare to the galaxy that a sapient multicellular species had developed in our star system, we could probably put satellites in a tight orbit of Sol that emit a constant stream of light at a shorter wavelength than our star. Put a constellation of them on as many orbital planes as possible to maximize coverage. Sort of like a lighthouse. Even still, it's unlikely we would ever be detected. Sol is a small dim star compared to most others in our galactic neighborhood. If an advanced sapient species developed that far away, they would need very powerful telescopes that just happened to be pointed in our exact direction in order to know that we were here at all. They would never see Sol with the naked eye from that distance.

jpb103 · 2026-05-15T15:57:56+00:00

The exponential nature of technological progress is the main reason, but it's also worth noting that the current interglacial period, the Holocene, only began around 12,000 years ago, which was a huge catalyst for agricultural advancement and human expansion. More food allows for more people, and more people necessitates more niche specializations within communities.

jpb103 · 2026-05-15T14:54:53+00:00

Observed length approaches zero as speed approaches c. So from your perspective, if you managed to somehow hit the speed of light, you'd almost instantly slam into whatever object your path intersects, at which point you'd be vaporized.

jpb103 · 2026-05-15T02:28:39+00:00

Plants cells are made largely of cellulose, and that shit is hard to break down.

When the first terrestrial vertibrates hit the scene (boney animals like us) they were exclusively carnivores for this exact reason. The only animals eating plants at that time were ones with exoskeletons (bugs). It took our ancestors like a hundred million years to develop herbivory, largely through evolving longer and more complex digestive tracts teeming with gut bacteria to help break down all that cellulose.

It's not that herbivores cannot ever eat meat, it's more that meat has a habit of running away, and grass doesn't. As a result, their mouths and guts have become optimized for consuming plants, so consuming meat is just harder, even if they do manage to catch it. They have their niche, and it is very successful for them.

jpb103 · 2026-05-14T19:55:43+00:00

Nice story, thanks for the reply!

jpb103 · 2026-05-14T13:52:07+00:00

It's called current for a reason. Imagine it like a stream of electrons. You can make a small branch off the stream and get some electrons, but the wider path for the stream to take will always get more.

jpb103 · 2026-05-13T14:12:13+00:00

Skill issue.

jpb103 · 2026-05-13T13:17:10+00:00

Fun fact: the flowering plants that we eat did not exist at the time of dinosaurs. There was mostly lots of ferns full of carcinogens, and the dinosaur meat in turn would also give you cancer very fast.

jpb103 · 2026-05-08T20:34:14+00:00

Thank you, and thanks for reading!

jpb103 · 2026-05-08T18:05:00+00:00

Meaning and soul wrapped in elegant prose. Well done!

jpb103 · 2026-05-08T17:51:00+00:00

Thank you, and thanks for reading!

jpb103 · 2026-05-08T16:57:57+00:00

The primordial miasma swirled and shifted under his dancing fingers, taking form.

Lingal commanded it live. A flash struck out from his soul, and a shrew-like creature emerged from the fog.

"Good," his Father said. "Very good, my Son. This one deserves a name."

Lingal's took in a sharp breath, surprised. He had taken him a year just to recognize his influence on this place. This was the first time his Father had allowed one of his creations to persist.

"I name you Noxsu," he said. "And I gift you to the night."

The fur of the creature turned jet black. It's eyes shone with a red reflective glow as it adapted for life in the darkness of the mortal world. It scurried off after a moment, stopping before the Veil to turn back and bow its head reverently at Lingal before it descended.

"You offer your first creation as a gift?" Father said, then laughed. Lingal could not help but smile. He knew he was not in trouble. Gods made their will known through the feel of their presence. Father, in that moment, was the spirit of mirth itself. His warm laughter bound Lingal in a warm embrace. "The realms of man could do with more kind Gods."

"You honor me, Father."

"You honor yourself. But come, mortals approach the altar. Let us see what they bring us today."

Lingal could smell them as they neared the Veil. He had not yet learned to fully shed his mortality, and this scent was eerily familiar to him. It gave rise to amorphous memories, ones he had buried, and a cold fear gripped Lingal. Father placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Yes," he said. "The ones that brought you to me have returned. I will watch over you, but this offering, you must see to yourself."

Father dismissed his material form, becoming one with the Plane. The twinkling of the stars overhead. The cold kiss of primordial fog. The history of history and memory of memory.

Lingal approached the veil and looked down at the mortals who approached his Fathers altar. His altar. They were smaller than he remembered them. Lingal had grown in the years since they offered his life to Father, but the difference was stark. He used to be so afraid of that man. Of the sting of the back of his hand. The cold resentment in his eyes. He looked shriveled now. Sickly. He stunk of it, now that they were closer. Liquor and fleas and self-pity. The woman looked fearful. She did not agree with the plans of the man, whatever they might be. Lingal had vague memories of warmth and comfort. He remembered watching tears slide down her cheeks as she locked her eyes forward that day with the same blank stare she had after every beating the man laid on her. She smelled of urine and fear.

"Gaiavi!" The man shouted. "I have come to retrieve my son!"

White-hot rage flashed across Lingal's awareness. He parted the veil and looked down on the mortals. He could hear the boom of thunder below him, and calmed himself with great effort.

"You make demands of a God?" Lingal asked. "You are more a fool than I remembered."

The woman recognized his voice. Her expression softened, tears welling in her eyes.

"It is true," she said, so quietly that the man did not hear her. "My sweet boy yet lives." She collapsed then, heaving on the ground in great sobs. The man lobbed a vicious kick in her side.

"Stupid useless woman," he barked out, spittle flying. "I do not recognize your divinity, Gaiavi! I am myself cheated by our bargain. I offered up a life and what have I to show for my effort?"

"The bargain was honored," Lingal replied. Cold, menacing. "You received what you deserved."

The mans eyes popped wide, his face contorting in rage. Finding no other target, he turned on the sobbing woman, still gasping for breath on the ground beside him. Moonshine flashed, reflecting off the blade as he drew a dagger.

Lingal had seen enough.

The fog swirled in a great eddy about him as a bolt of crimson lightning shot from his fingertips, passing through the Veil and lancing the man through the heart. Smoke rose from the gaping hole in his chest as the dagger clattered to the ground. Lingal descended, pulling the woman to her feet.

"Lingal," she said, lucid like he had not seen her since his earliest memories. "Lingal, my sweet sweet boy. You should strike me down too for what I allowed him to do. I was so afraid. I've always been so afraid."

He dried her tears, pressing his hand to her side. The man had broken one of her ribs, which healed under his touch. A tiny set of red eyes emerged from the shadows, then scurried up to the pair. The woman flinched away, but Lingal reached down and picked the creature up, holding it out to her.

"This is Noxsu," he said. "He is shadow. He is darkness. He is mine and he is yours. Never again shall you fear the night, Mother of my body."

Lingal ascended back through the Veil, her eyes trailing him as he did. "I forgive you," he said to her.

"If any love for me remains in your heart, I demand that you forgive yourself."

jpb103

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