Morgana walked slowly down the strange black road the people of this time had created. It glistened wetly from the earlier rain and red maple leaves alternately stuck to it or danced across it. There were so many strange lights here, of so many colors, adding to the sensory caco-

Her footsteps barely raised an echo against the outcry from the wind.

The sound of it thrummed through her. A bass drum giving life to her clothes.

She felt alive. Cold. But alive.

Maple leaves weaved between her feet as she walked.

A red carpet welcoming her… home.