The final dynamic structures of a broken empire can easily dissolve into the background when a human hand drops a tiny seed into the quiet earth.
The gentle morning sun warmed the winding gravel path as Sarah Vance walked slowly up the steep coastal ridge, completely leaving the rhythmic sounds of the busy harbor docks behind her. She carried a wide, hand-woven wooden basket on her hip, filled to the brim with young fresh apple and cherry saplings that were just beginning to show their tiny green buds. The biting mountain frost had vanished from the valley completely, and Sarah knelt down on the path, rubbing a clod of dark earth between her bare fingers to find that the mountain earth had thawed perfectly for the morning planting.
"The soil has absolutely zero ice left in it today, Etha
