Ryaenara's Dimension had changed with her.
Noah stood on its high plateau and looked at the changes openly, because they were everywhere. The floating paintings still drifted all around them, hundreds of them, Ulf's life's work hanging in the air at every height, some finished and some abandoned mid-stroke.
But the sky above them and the ground below had been painted over by something no brush had touched. Red gold light lay across all of it, the color of her new robes and her new blood, her transformation written onto the whole Dimension that answered to her existence!
Even the sickly figure of Ulf was looking around in excitement. He sat propped among his paintings, wasted thin by THE Withering of the Remembered Root, and his dim eyes moved across the changed sky with the wonder of a man who had watched it happen.
And yet, even now, he was raising one sickly finger.
He pointed toward a nearby floating painting.
