Solya mourns, even if he won't say it.
@taywen's gift for the 2019 Uprooted Fic Exchange.
It begins, as most of Sarkan's favorite things, at the beginning.
(There was a point in his long life when he believed all things began in such a way. Alas, that was before he witnessed Agnieszka opening one of the rarest, most complex spells in his library somewhere vaguely in the middle and start casting without the barest resemblance of a care for simple things like logic.)