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W e reached our old palace some time later, and the sight of it made my soul weep. The huge columns framing the front were usually alive with climbing plants and flowers that glowed with soft blue light, but now they hung in dead swathes, like tattered drapes from some long-forgotten bygone age. More ash littered the ground, and entire sections of the palace had crumbled to dust. I flicked my fingers to try to inspire some life in the plants and was rewarded when some veins of green appeared. The plants rustled as they moved, stretching toward me to draw more power, and soon they began to grow again. Tiny little glowing flowers appeared once more, struggling to come back to life. Other than those small movements, the entire place remained desolate and sad, like the soul of the place had
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