Four omens were dead before they crashed to earth. The others—nine that Liébo and Beölí were able confirm as still living—hit ground on the island of Saaremaa. Two, as Liébo reckoned, might lay drowned in the seas just south of Abruka. At any rate, there were nine omens, still breathing, if word from the sappers could be trusted. Now, on the night following his test on the highest of the Castle balconies, he took to the winding cobble of streets far to the rim of the city. Things were quieter here. He could think. He could allow his thoughts to ramble where whim might pull them—into the taverns and bordellos along the Shadow Prospect, or—now—into the libraries, bookstores, and galleries flanking this small alley named for the space between the little toe and it's neighbor. The streets and alleyways back home had more poetic names, but Liébo heard a kind of drunken beauty in the prosaic nomenclature here. He felt safe, in the garb of a common citizen. Everyone had seen the pyrotechnic fall of yesterday's portent, and everyone—as he heard on the streets and in the brew houses—awaited word from the Master Readers and this year's senior apprentices. He'd heard his name mentioned favorably. He'd heard Beölí's name as well. Other names, too...but he ignored—as best he could—the wild hopes so easily pinned on them. Though no one could read, until at least one living omen had been brought back for study, Liébo felt a twinge of dread. Something was wrong. Though omens had fallen in large clusters before, he'd never seen so large a number, plunging through the sky, with tails like comets. So many! And now, though the sky was silent and still: clouded with vapors that would soon bring rain, he knew that more omens were due to fall. There was a war. Up there. Somewhere past the moon. Omens fought omens and those wounded to the point of death were what fell here. There were ways to read that death. But not tonight. Not now. * * * * * Just as the alleyway in this image is an actual location in Prague, the Islands of Saaremaa and Abruka are real locations as well; they are a part of the Estonian Archipelago, and Saaremaa is home to meteorite impact craters, the largest of which is Kaali. The crater measures 110 meters in diameter and now holds a small lake. Kaali and the other impact craters were formed when a meteor broke apart and its fragments rained down on Saarema, and quite possibly other locations. In a theory put forth by Lennart Meri, Saaremaa might be the legendary island of Thule, first mentioned by the ancient Greek geographer Pytheas. The folklore of Estonia contains many references to an event that bears more than casual resemblance to a meteorite impact, and Pytheas' Thule, like Plato's Atlantis, has long captured the human imagination. Unlike Atlantis, however, Thule has drawn my attention, and...well...Estonia IS on my list of places to live. Nine meteorite impact craters just make it that much more interesting. * * * * * As always, thank you for viewing, reading and commenting, and I hope you've enjoyed this image and tale.