Break- K'veer

Anna nodded, then stood, wiping her hands against her shirt. "Here," she said. "We'll begin here again." Book of Ti'ana

Just like my great-grandmother, after the loss of her husband and all she loved, began again, so too did I. Only my beginning was after the death of Atrus and not at the Cleft, but at the city.

So I began. Returning to my work, allowing it to consume me and sweep me away from the past.

I wrote, I molded, I fashioned and I created...then I taught. I taught you and others about the Bahro, the unseen ones who hid themselves along the edges of the ruin of D'ni. I taught of the journey, of the tapestry, of the great Uru...

And my Tree began to grow...

The water is flowing in from the desert. The storm is coming.

The storm came, strong and hard and life-giving. A storm to make Ti'ana dance with pleasure. And the roots of the Tree absorbed it and the Tree sprouted new leaves and once again was whole.

But that was not the end.

-

Part 10- Uru

Lights were flickering from across the water, far away in D'ni. They were bright and strong and covered the entire rock island. Leaning on the railing at K'veer, Yeesha watched them, a content smile on her face.

People were in Ae'Gura now- not many of them but their numbers were increasing daily. They wanted to learn everything she could teach them about the D'ni and the past. They were persistent and refused to give up, even when things grew difficult. And each day another of the Bahro returned to the city because of their efforts. The circle was complete.

-A seabird calls.

The unknowing one stands at the rail.

Peace, the circle closed.

The last word written.- Book of D'ni

Frowning slightly, Yeesha linked her hands together in frustration. Why did she have to think of that now? Why, when only joy should be on her mind, did painful thoughts plague her again? There was only misery for her in those words. All memories of her father brought pain these days. Even something as small as a prophecy- harmless on its own- drew tears with each line. And then, when she could hear his voice inside her mind...

Sighing, Yeesha moved away from the balcony and the view of the thriving city. She was glad for the success and how the Tree grew again but she could no longer watch it tonight.

Peace. Yes finally there was peace in D'ni. Old ghosts which whispered of wrongs performed on them and on others were now silenced, their stories heard, wrongs righted. And the circle was closed. By the returning of the Bahro to D'ni the final edge of the circle was connected to the beginning.

But the last word written?

No, thought Yeesha, not written yet.

Slowly she traveled down the hallways of K'veer, heading down all the way to the lowest level where the stones were green and damp and spoke of being around long before many of the other levels of K'veer were added. Here at this level was the room where Gehn once imprisoned Atrus and left him with the Riven book. It was here that Atrus spent years after the betrayal of his sons, alone with only the Riven book and the hope of one day being rescued to keep him company. And it was here that Atrus and the others first broke through back into the city, hoping to restore it.

Stepping inside the room, Yeesha felt the hairs at the back of her neck rise. That always happened in this room...there was just something about it.

The stone here was not the lavatic black used elsewhere in the house, but a dull metallic gray carved with intricate patterns, like lacework, great bulbous pillars holding up the massive arch of the roof. Book of Atrus

And in one corner, pushed up against the wall, stood a desk made of dark wood, so deep and rich it almost blended in with the shadows.

Yeesha strode forward and, after first running her hands along the edges of the wood, enjoy the complete aesthetic pleasure of it, she sat down and pulled a sheet of paper towards her. Dipping her pen in the ink well, she paused for a moment, contemplating what she wished to say, then bent over and began to write.

Father,

I know you can not hear me, yet I must write to you. In my heart you will hear my voice, the voice of your desert bird.

Words written to me, for me, and of me. Who would believe that the tree would die, so that I could grow it again? You always did. Your desert bird was so much more and I understand you now. You knew, though I did not.

Now I know. I know much father. I have learned of the death. I am powerful father. I have seen new life, and brought it forth myself. And I go now to become the grower. If only you could see. Perhaps you do.

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2:45-55

I am Yeesha.

I am the Grower.

Thank you father.

Your burden is lifted.