Muscles tire.
Prelude.
This is our story, too.
This is his story.
The Santaman came reeking of love into this place and we did not know him.
One by one the world-strands burst and bled until ash snowed down on huddled masses whimpering in the cold.
Poetry died first followed by faith.
In the Sixteenth Year of the Sixteen Princes the world came to an end when the dragon\'s back gave out.
Fear falls.
Faith fades.
Words fail.
Muscles tire