Role

Chapter 4

The Witch made camp and over a small fire brews some herbal tea which she
forces down Oaneewke's tired throat, and as the warm spiced liquid begins to
take effect, her tongue loosens and she relates her vision. It feels good to
talk of it, of all of them, so many, and for the first time she feels able to
unburden her soul. The Witch sits quietly and listens, nodding occasionally
until finally the outpouring ceases. 'Have any of these things ever come to
pass?' she asks. 'No' Oaneewke replies, 'none of them. How could they? Once
at the place where there is just a brook I saw huge white structures,
reaching high into the sky, sitting beside a wide river. How could that be?
Who could build such a thing?' The Witch sits quietly pondering. 'Perhaps
what you see is in an epoch not yet even imagined by the Ancients. Mayhaps it
will never come to pass.' It was a glimmer of hope for Oaneewke and for now
perhaps the only solace she would have. They talked into the night until the
embers of the fire grow low and they both slipped into slumber.