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There is a forgotten land far away. There are deserts filled with dry sand, jungles filled with lush vegetation, underground tunnels filled with purplish darkness and mushroom forests filled with mystery. Elaborate temple on a tall hill shoots towards the sky, it's insides filled with secret passes nobody uses anymore and with seats the council of priests once sat upon. Among tall grasses there is a hidden lair of the ones that rebelled against the followers of Solaris a long time ago.
There is a small island surrounded by shallow water. Huge and distant dragon statue still stands trying to remind anyone who's looking of a former glory. But it is obsolete now, since nobody looks at it. The setting sun becomes red like it were a swollen dying star. It dies water crimson, just as it was when the fighting started and it was red with blood.
War is bad, because it brings useless suffering, mindless violence and unnecessary death. It engulfs everything as if it were endless and when it does end there is almost nobody left to remember. The ones that are left don't want to remember, because it's hard. The memories bring pain so they bury them deep with the corpses and let them decompose. And so the dead are left with nothing. No body, no memory. They truly die.
All that survived left this land. The scent of scorched meat and rotting flesh is long gone. Young Mithrin stands in the shallow water and watches a single teardrop drown among small waves. All in all he has very little sentiment for this place. It was already almost deserted when he arrived here for the first time. There are much more interesting places out there and he intends to see them.
The crimson water around the small island murmurs softy. It is the only sound. This land is empty now. Perhaps one day somebody will come back.
Feralands, Lunar Cave, Secret Garden, Luminous Mine, Rimwood, The Clock Tower, Brughowe, Medina Eremos, Pixiedust Cliff, Emerald Garden, Lone Cave, Fluorite Plains, Temple of Dreams, South Pole, Atlantis, Last Cave, Ascension Island... Few examples of a modest beginning. The more places, lands, worlds, dimensions he sees the less boundaries keep him from going further.
The possibility to go further fills everything with a powerful sense of potential. All has potential to change and the only constancy is impermanence. Mithrin likes returning where he once was, seeing what has changed, learning secret spots that were hidden from sight before. It helps him forget the land where he started this journey.
The crimson water around the small island murmurs softy. It is the only sound. That land is empty now. Perhaps one day somebody will come back.
