A strand of black hair had escaped from her hood, apparently hoping for a glimpse of the sun. She brushed it back with one white hand. Her skin was nearly as white as her cloak pale and exotic. It had, from time to time, excited raging jealousy in the Malakim court ladies, whose own skin, even with the most diligent application of lotions, oils, and pearl-powders, remained obdurately bronze. But no matter how long Queen Saralet rode with her retinue in the stabbing light of the desert, she never darkened one iota. Some ancient magic mixed in her blood kept her ever sparkling like a snowflake amidst the dunes.
Zaphra, her chief attendant, watched her standing with a group of magi from the Academy, listening intently as they explained the mysterious operation of the mana crystals they had recently attuned to her specifications. Adepts stood or sat in various places around the colonnaded structure, and others flitted back and forth with crystals, dowsing rods, arcanists sextants, and other tools that Zaphra had learned to use during her days in the Guild. But she was an adept no longer instead, she waited for Queen Saralet; waited and watched. The white marble columns of the mana node were already thickly overgrown with ivy and flowering vines, and knee-high green grass waved in the breeze on every side of the node, until it gradually faded into scraggly desert scrub a half a league away. The magi had bound the node, by Saralets command, into something that had made vitality bubble up out of the hostile desert foothills.
Saralet turned away from the magi and began carefully descending the stairs to where her retinue was waiting. Zaphra stepped forward to meet her, extending her arm to give her Queen something to grasp as she made her way down the stone steps, incongruently slippery with thick mosses.
They stepped up into the Queens chariot and began lurching away down the long road to Golden Leane. After a few moments of quiet, Saralet pulled her hood back and gave Zaphra a curious smile.
You asked me why I did not order it bound to the Sun, as we did with the others. Do you see now?
Zaphra frowned in answer. Saralet looked out to the horizon and pointed. Zaphra could see the blaze of the Mirror of Heaven, baking the homeland of the Malakim to desert as it had been doing for a hundred years.
I have seen it, Zaphra. Seen it in visions and walked through it in my dreams. One day, these deserts will burst with life. This mana is only the first step; only the seed. One day, we will speak the words of the great spell, and life will wash over these barren valleys like a wave. In my dreams, I have sat on the riverbank in the shade of a tree as tall as the walls of Golden Leane, and I have washed my feet in the water and watched the light of the Mirror a league away.
Zaphra felt that an answer was expected, but she could think of nothing to say. Finally, she ventured, But my Queen, there is no river within a league of the Mirror.
Saralet smiled and turned up her face as though welcoming the first prophesied drops of rain. There will be.