The Flight of Bones

Maps

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  Indigo Sun

  Indigo is not past, present, or future, but rather truth. The number of truth is 4, dichotomy both doubled and squared. This is the Real World. Capital R. Capital W. But the Real World is one of thoughts and ideas. Truth is not a solid bit of rock— it is an immovable, unchangeable concept. (It is also relative, which gives Indigo its life and motion.) Newcomers to Indigo from Shadow comment on the sharpness, brightness, and clarity of even the most mundane objects, sounds, and smells. There is no mistaking that you’ve entered a new—and far more substantial—realm altogether upon that first arrival. Beauty is more beautiful here. But ugliness is more hideous as well. Although flat, the realm stretches out (perhaps) boundlessly with seas of cloudy musings and conceptual landmasses, many as yet not fully explored. And at the center of it all, the Glistening City, the City of Notions, Satyrine.