The Avarta Ring

We have almost forgotten what it feels like to be a fixed point. To be the thing that holds while the world turns. A round stone, steady in its bezel. Four half-moons arranged with the unhurried confidence of something that has always known where it is. Light catches them differently each time : north, east, south, west - and none of it disturbs the centre. She is not the one who arrives. She is the one others navigate by.