Edalyne realized, with a sickening feeling curdling in her stomach, that she was one of the lucky ones.  The Vanguard had been far enough from port that the effects of the mana-bomb had not reached them; but they could still see, from a distance, the flash.  The explosion.

Her hands clenched on the wooden railing of the deck.  She had opted to not go back, to not see the destruction.  It did not make it any easier.  A…

The tea grows colder, yet, and still she stirs the brown liquid with a small spoon.  Her eyes stare into the swirling mass; her ears barely register the soft clink-clink-clink the dishes make when they meet.  Somewhere upstairs, baby Eli wakes.  She hears the patter of footsteps as someone else checks on her, and a stab of regret pierces her heart.  Yet, she remains downstairs, her cold cup of tea in hand, staring into the ever-swirling…

(Oh, Mirele, I try to retire you, and what happens?  Old plots reboot.  Curses.  Ohwell, guess I just get to vomit ramblings onto the ning again.)

She awakes, startled, with her breathing quick and irregular.  There is sweat on her brow, and an unsettled feeling she hasn’t felt since before the baby was born.  With a frown, she sits up in bed, and listens.  No, nothing is out of the ordinary.…