Feet may roam, thoughts may drift, No set course, that's the gift. A path unknown, and damn the cost, Not all who do me are lost.

Part One: The Fellowship of the Note Readers Part Two: The Forbidden Question of Women The Complete Series: The Binder of Blood

Wall by wall, I build my new house after the sweltering heat. The air is made all the sweeter, the scents of warm spices leading the perfumed charge. I carefully portion out dollops of mortar, and line my footpath with cheery stones. The outside I paint and dust with snow, and add garnish with whorled tiles. What did I build with?

I am made of those who never fought, In wars I started, lost and won. Plain turned to whim of liquid thought, I hold all things the black has done. I wait in silence, thin and fair, Through fire and water, earth and air.

Could you? Would you? Should you? Do you want an outcome at all? Schrodinger can reveal the answer when you’re ready.