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the heavens and set to shine along the simple
silver band.
The crown’s light danced over Manon’s
face as she lifted it above her head and set it
upon her unbound white hair.
Even the mountain wind stopped.
Yet a phantom breeze shifted the strands of
Manon’s hair as the crown glowed bright, the
white stars shining with cores of cobalt and
ruby and amethyst.
As if it had been asleep for a long, long
time. And now awoke.
That phantom wind pulled Manon’s hair to
the side, silver strands brushing across her
face.
And beside him, around him, the Thirteen
touched two fingers to their brow in
deference.
In allegiance to the queen who stared down
the two remaining High Witches.