I tore my eyes away from Fisher and gasped aloud when I saw the Hall of Tears again. Really looked upon it, as if seeing it for the first time. The figures stitched into the wall hangings writhed and cavorted, glimmering in the torchlight. Flecks of gold and silver danced in the air. The darkness had swept away, revealing sumptuous furnishings, and paintings hanging from the walls, and sprays of night-blooming flowers in tall vases, throughout the hall. Suddenly, crushingly, the Hall of Tears had become beautiful.
