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visit nore dot com forward slash UK. A sweet Lily braaves the River, written and read by James Damott.

For the Black Lily of the Hollow Valley, spring was a time for worship.

Nestled behind the fertile peaks that separate the mainland from the haunted towns of the

coast, the Hollow Valley is a hard day of travel over marshy lands from almost anywhere worth mentioning.

Even in the dry heat of summer, the freeze of winter, and the sweet chill of autumn, the waters of the marsh

are treacherous. Spring, however, hosts vicious beating storms that gray the sky and flood the passes slick.

One would have to be quite certain they were in need of a Lily to brave a hollow valley pass in spring.

Sweet didn't mind people. After all, he sought training as a Black Lily to spend his life nurturing them.

However, he spent what he thought of as his younger days,

despite not being halfway through his 20s, parloring in a city where it was easy to call on him.

Nowadays he couldn't shake the feeling that too much company edged on

coying. Folks had an imagination for the things they needed from a Lily, and Sweet had a

knack for entertaining imagination, but a duty to fulfill need.

Without certain distance, people called to satisfy imagination rather than necessity.

So Sweet traded service for a cabin in the valley. He still traveled to the surrounding

towns by Griffin most of the year, but the valley gave him spring, and that suited him well.

After all, part of his Lily's oath was to himself.

One cannot live simply attending to the needs of others.

So there was worship.

Soft meditation on personal satisfaction expressed in raptures.

...