The day before me shines within my soul as I take in the majesty of ocean before me as sun-split meadows travel from horizon to horizon. The new day brightens the fields as petals awaken beneath their master's hand. Colors I have not before breathed fill my eyes with their heady vibrance. It is a land without boundaries, a land the valleys of the Chrystum could not hold within.
I revel in the openness that I have not experienced within the confines of the Sirris. I let the day lapse as the east winds follow from the dawn. I have no timetable for this day other than the hollow sounds of my stomach. Here though I am at home as in the fields I plow. Here is where I will gather my lunch. Fields are fields and within them the same creatures will travel and I am a master at their removal, as is any farmer worth his salt. I will take my direction as the sun begins its downward arc.
The day begins to seal its fate as the light begins to fade, its warmth a degree cooler upon my face. It is the warmth that steals my heart as the mountain passes has sapped it from my soul, and with the thoughts of the Dream Valley in my mind I shall make my way south. These fields that give new hope to my journey spring as a well from the depths of the earth. The flanks of the Sirris shall be my guide as I follow in their wake to ends unknown.
The sun shall rise upon my left shoulder come the dawn.
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