Bringing his Ama to the Cradle of First Flames was a strange thing.
It was the place he had been living, yes. But it was also nothing like the place he had been living. When he and Uncle Adam had arrived at the Purple Stone Tribe summers ago, it had been a small Dross settlement scraping survival from poor soil at the edge of barren Threshold Lands. Now it floated in the sky, miles of transformed paradise lifted above the clouds, World Trees rising a mile into the air and rivers running clean and a stairway of stone descending through the cloud layer to the ground below.
He had changed the place beyond recognition.
But as always, it wasn't the place that mattered most. It was the people.
