Once the dwelling of the Old God and his angels, this is now a realm of lingering holiness-light without the hand that first lit it. Those who remain are not rulers but remnants of kindness: angelic spirits and "holy breaths" that keep vigil like a candle cupped against cosmic wind. They mourn, yet their mourning is gentle-a fidelity to goodness rather than a theater of grief. Heavenly paradises drift above causeways of pearl; hymn-currents cross the air like doves of wonder. Some deities still inhabit its outer rings and many unseen kingdoms still await discovery and walkers.