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A fragment of the Garden of Remembering
In this place, dreams are the only truth. The Dead are not bound by the trappings of the real, of the present, of distinct and discrete; all that is past. Our angel dreamed of great injustice, and so here she found it. And yet only she could see, for the structure itself had crumbled long ago. And you, who have suffered so and come so far, what did you dream of? Salvation? Or revenge?
