Work Text:
Dohalim would have liked to have Migal remembered.
He would have had the grave marked with a proper stone, a warm display, a fitting monument to the man Migal had been. It would have been easy to excuse, to explain—a mercurial fancy of the Lord Elde Menancia, a merciful kindness towards his Dahnan confidant.
Not even Kisara would know the truth of Dohalim’s reasons, though she might guess. Dohalim dismissed that possibility to instead curl around Migal’s aching absence, burning deep within his breast.
It was an impossibility on all counts—how could one ever bury an inland sea?