The spirit world was not meant to contain order. It was of all things and yet never fixed. The spirits themselves shifted perspective on a moment to moment basis. The residents never thought it odd at all to see a constantly shifting landscape.
New spirits were born and old ones merged or broke themselves apart intentionally to spread their comprehension to a new generation.
Yet, there were some fixtures.
The old woman in white robes looked on as Lind wove 2nd Circle sigils and traces. He had been hyper focused on his work and did not see her dark looks. She had become grave as he began to weave but did not stop him as he stabilized pieces of the spirit world around him.
He dispersed the 1st Circle weavings once he had reached a certain understanding but his pattern was clear. Still, she only observed.
A shadow extended from her and a familiar male voice spoke up.
