Lord Blake had knitted it for decades. Every want that the High King had that went against the will of the Gods, it was Lord Blake that had seen it carried out.
And now here he was. Another moment of reflection. Another moment in which he could feel a turning point. Where one could hear the dripping of a single drop of water, the ringing of a gong. An absolute presence that told him where he stood currently was the most important moment in the world.
Where everything dripped with significance. Where the very pink little flower petal floating in front of him offered all the threats of meaning needed to untangle what the next decade of rule might have been like.
