“After running for three years and three days, Prim finally came to a tumbling halt. No matter how far she ran, no matter how fast her legs carried her, she could not find the end of the road. No matter how she scanned the horizon, or reached out with trembling fingers, she could not grasp her resting place. The road continued forever.

There was a way-angel there, standing on a pillar of basalt, who understood many things, and he said to Prim: ‘O piteous thing.” Struck by her dreadful appearance, he recognized her as the orphan of Hansa, for he was very wise in the world. ‘What seek you on the road, small one?’ said the angel, “Perhaps I can offer succor.”

“The end of the road,” croaked Prim.

“There is no end,” said the angel, and it was so indeed. For the road was the rim of the Wheel, which encircled infinity. There was, truly no resting place. For some, this would have been dread news, enough to strike the life out of them. Many had given up when they learned of this, and laid down to die, as was sometimes the way of men in those days.

But for Prim, it washed over her, and soothed her, and for her weary and torn heart was the sweetest balm in the world.”

-Prim Masters the Road