The world is soft and bright and more beautiful than you can imagine. More full and magical and there is sound and light and voices. Around you a ring of mushrooms. Music, laughter. You are waking. We are waking. A woman above you. So happy. You know her. You know her.
Firstmother. A barely remembered face.
But you know her.
She is lifting you up.
“Cahan!” she says, and laughs and spins you round in the air. “You are of the trees now, my beautiful boy, they will keep you safe!”
Spinning, spinning, whirling.