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On
the
far
edge
of
the
Disc
the
sun
was
rising
.
The
light
of
the
morning
began
to
flow
across
the
patchwork
of
seas
and
continents
,
but
it
did
so
slowly
,
because
light
is
tardy
and
slightly
heavy
in
the
presence
of
a
magical
field
.
On
the
dark
crescent
,
where
the
old
light
of
sunset
had
barely
drained
from
the
deepest
valleys
,
two
specks
,
one
big
,
one
small
,
flew
out
of
the
shadow
,
skimmed
low
across
the
swells
of
the
Rim
ocean
,
and
struck
out
determinedly
over
the
totally
unfathomable
,
star
-
dotted
depths
of
space
.
Perhaps
the
magic
would
last
.
Perhaps
it
wouldn
’
t
.
But
then
,
what
does
?