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“Rhysand at last released my hand, only to lay his once more on the bare stone. It rippled beneath his palm, forming- a door. Like the gates above, it was of ivory- bone. And in its surface were etched countless images: flora and fauna, seas and clouds, stars and moons, infants and skeletons, creatures fair and foul-” — Sarah J. Maas
Rhysand at last released my hand, only to lay his once more on the bare stone. It rippled beneath his palm, forming- a door.
Like the gates above, it was of ivory- bone. And in its surface were etched countless images: flora and fauna, seas and clouds, stars and moons, infants and skeletons, creatures fair and foul-