At last she found her center and dared touch the surface, marveling at its perfection. Without a moment’s hesitation, she took her sharpest carving tool and sliced the web of flesh between her thumb and forefinger, letting her blood mingle with the dice, settling into the ward grooves. As she did, she prayed. “Everam, Creator of Heaven and Ala, Giver of Light and Life, your children are dying. We fight among ourselves when we should band together, throw away lives when we should succor them. How can we return to your favor and be saved from passing from this world?”
