… We destroyed so many of them, willfully. We destroyed their homes, and in doing so, destroyed our own. Stop the killing, or the violence won’t stop. All our own blood we wade in by our own hands, that could stop…

… we are lifting the spell – not this dragonspell, but the older spell…

… the towers are gone, but we hold the pieces of them now. We kiss the talisman heirloom, tell the tale, and feel us returned to ourselves…

… What if I have to believe in the new-old magic in order to keep the beauty in my life? The moment I try to deny it, I feel something most precious begin to slip away, something I just got back, and I can’t, I just can’t…

Some started saying things aloud on the street, while others formed a new table of talk at their public house. People were finding ways to share new songs and poems, forming the next era of art – so far-reaching that somewhere, anywhere, a reminder would exist.