I saw the moon split into two rivers. One river flowed milk. The other flowed blood. Between them stood a figure cloaked in sand. It had no face, only a thousand shifting masks. It spoke with the voice of every person I had lost.
I wept. I begged for water. The figure reached into its chest and pulled out a dry well. 'This,' it said, 'is the well of memory. Drink, and forget. Do not drink, and carry the thirst forever.' rwayt asy alhjran
The old man smiled. "After? I walked until I found this place. And now... now I wait for a vision that tells me how to stop." I saw the moon split into two rivers