Olaf had immediately boarded his birdun and had set out for the Tree. In retrospect, it was a trip he wished he had never taken. He screamed his grief violently into the silence of the ruins until he was empty and spent, a husk of what he once had been when The Which had loved him.
The return trip to Mist Tier had been a blur, made hazier by the tears that seemed ceaseless.
Upon arriving back at the palace, Olaf had fled to his chambers, fearful of any encounter that would require him to behave normally. He had collapsed onto his bed, numb and motionless, surrounded by the elegant accoutrements of his achievements.
This luxurious life meant nothing without her.
Now, at this late hour, the chancellor roused himself to deliver the calamitous news to Xander. He found the king in his roy
