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Section 1

Dad told us about the Stone War. Said the ships were a thousand deep, and that not even a "Pinnish firework festival" could compare to the spectacle of that last battle. I asked him about the old world every night. He said he couldn't tell us about Foundation, it would appear to us "a dream so beautiful", the stories would drive us mad, and we'd not be able to go on living. But we survived on those stories, me and Tressa.

Some nights he couldn't help but let his secrets slip. He spoke of ripe fruit, that the trees of Sabor were heavy with juicy pippins and nanban.

"One day there might be an island with fruit on the tree, then we'll know it used to be part of Sabor. But it's more like Tarrery here, that icy wind, that whale meat."

"Fruit can't taste better than whale, can it?," I'd say, and then we'd laugh.

I remember once we saw an island covered in lights. Dad swore it must be Momoros, but when we drew near it was a tower infested with luminous worms.
I couldn't stop Dad crying. He kept saying that no city would ever be built like Momoros again.


Section 2

When I asked him of Foundation, he'd say, "I'll not talk of Foundation. it'll drive you to despair, it was nothing as empty as this."

“But dad. why did it die?"

“We had it easy, far too easy. Sabor was perfection. We grew full of Ourselves, chests fit to burst. Now all is gone below."
"How did it go?”

"Nobody knows. But first it was the cities that tell. Then Shobo fell and the oceans poured away. and every other thing followed like a yanked tablecloth. The earth crunbled, dry and brittle, in great scars - city-swallowers they were. All we could do was take flight, ride out the long storm.“



Section 3 MISSING


Section 4 MISSING


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