“ Head priests of a order are buried sitting up with their skeletal hand sticking out of the ground so worshippers can still kiss his hand for a blessing.”
“ By late afternoon, the sky starts to cloud over. The sun shines behind the fluffy clouds, gilding the edges and showing a Jacob's-ladder of rays streaming through the gaps...very pretty. Gradually the clouds shift into a new configuration: you realize with awe-struck, preternatural clarity that the clouds form a map of a coast-line that you know, against the blue sky as ocean: surely it's a Sign! Suddenly, the golden beams coalesce into one long ray that strikes across the blue. A star-like gleam flashes under the ray: perhaps it is an island? But the charts show no island there...who would want to hide an island? Who could do it?”
“ 'Look, lad! You see the streak of glowing green off the larboard bow? Them's the bright waters!'
While the lad peered intently at the eerie glow, the old salt continued. 'Entire ships have been lost to the Bright, lad, for once you let it surround you, you'll never touch land again!'”
