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I shouldn’t be so cynical, Lightsong thought Without this systeo he had died, even if he still didn’t knohat had killed him Had it really been a heroic death? Perhaps nobody was allowed to talk about his forhtsong the Bold had actually died from a stomach cramp

To the side, the lesser priest disappeared with the jungle painting It would be burned Such offerings were od, and only he--besides a few of his priests--was allowed to see the to the next work of art on the wall It was actually a poehtened as Lightsong approached The Hallandren artisan’s script was a specialized syste that wasn’t based on form, but on color Each colored dot represented a different sound in Hallandren’s language Combined with some double dots--one of each color--it created an alphabet that was a nightmare for the colorblind

Few people in Hallandren would ad that particular ail had heard He wondered if the priests knew just how ossiped about the outside world

The poeood one, obviously composed by a peasant who had then paid someone else to translate it to the artisan’s script The sin of this True poets used ed color or colorful glyphs that formed pictures A lot could be done with sy

Getting the colors right was a delicate art, one that required the Third Heightening or better to perfect That was the level of Breath at which a person gained the ability to sense perfect hues of color, just as the Second Heightening gave so Lightsong didn’t knohat it was like to live without the ability to instantly recognize exact shades of color and sound He could tell an ideal red from one that had been ave the peasant’s poeenerally felt an is It sees he took seriously

They continued down the line, Lightsong giving reviews of the various paintings and poems The as remarkably full this day Was there a feast or celebration he hadn’t heard about? By the ti was tired of looking at art, though his body--fueled by the child’s Breath--continued to feel strong and exhilarated

He stopped before the final painting It was an abstract work, a style that was growing s sent to hiiven favorable reviews to others in the past He alrade si at ould please hi sensed that ave their reviews, intentionally adding crypticdidn’t have the patience for such tricks, especially since all anyone ever really see the time it deserved The canvas was thick with paint, every inch colored with large, fat strokes of the brush The predo immediately kneas a red-blue mixture with a hint of black in it

The lines of color overlapped, one atop another, al frowned If he looked at it right, it looked like a sea And could that be a ship in the center?

Vague impressions fro

I’s, he told himself "Good color," he said "Nice patterns It puts me at peace, yet has a tension to it as well I approve"

Llarimar seemed to like this response He nodded as the lesser priest--who stood a distance away--recorded Lightsong’s words

"So," Lightsong said "That’s it, I assume?"

"Yes, Your Grace"

One duty left, he thought Now that Offerings were done, it would be ti--of his daily tasks Petitions He had to get through theet toa nap

Llarimar didn’t lead the way toward the petition hall, however He sih so asked

"Well what, Your Grace?"

"Petitions"

Llari petitions today, Your Grace Res like that for e over, "consider it officially remembered that you have no petitions today Your priests will be otherwise e what?"

"Kneeling reverently in the courtyard, Your Grace Our new queen arrives today"

Lightsong froze I really need to pay more attention to politics "Today?"

"Indeed, Your Grace Our lord the God King will be married"

"So soon?"

"As soon as she arrives, Your Grace"

Interesting, Lightsong thought Susebron getting a wife The God King was the only one of the Returned who could marry Returned couldn’t produce children--save, of course, for the king, who had never drawn a breath as a livinghad always found the distinction odd