FIFTY-ONE | SUNDIAL

There was said to be an old sundial, lost somewhere deep within the forest, buried amongst the conifers and pines. It was so told that one could not find it, no matter how hard they looked, no matter how close it may have seemed.

It was said to be blue in places, cracked and decaying with age. It had withstood the elements for years, shrouded by the trees as it was, slowly marking the passage of time using the fragile, splintered sunlight that fell in dapples into the woods.

Time fell upon it, cast in shadows and as fleeting as one. The bright hours shone, the darkness winding around and around it in circles, never meeting their end.

I’d never given much thought to the sundial before; I’d never considered it with more than with a peering, intellectual curiosity. As I lay awake that night, anxiously awaiting Samyak’s return, I measured its meaning more than I had ever had need to before.

Despite my quavering anxiety, I’d stood tall, pulled myself up from the ground and told the pack not