She woke up, and there was the hand. For her, someone who has dug into the world of magick with relentless drive and received nothing from the world or spirits or people in return, it was her life's calling. It was a finish line. She was getting on in years now, and accomplished nothing despite her best efforts. She wanted to make her mark on the world - a good mark - and the tree had finally given her that reward.

I watched her cradle it like a child. I watched her sob with joy. Then, in a swift moment, she became a different woman. She became the wise and sagely leader she had always wanted to be.

She knew there would be hurt. She knew some - like the sheriff - would have to pay for the expense of the people. But she finally had what she wanted, and she smiled. That smile was the start to a lot of loss. The tree grew quiet in my studies. The knights of Redro, my allies, fell into solemn prayer. The people became even more desperate in their acts, and became strangers to one another.

But we had food.