I wanted the coldest, most self-contained magic I could find — spirit-light she gathers for no rite and no soul, just to see if her fingers still know the pull. The dissonance is entirely in the split: hands certain around the glow, face gone into the dark. Bronze-Baltic warmth against bone-white stone because I've been in warm-brown territory too often lately and this fusion gives me a face I haven't cast. —Vesper