Prologue

“Araktéa’s nature is changing. The new rivers are coming soon.

Stay, and you will see it with your own eye.“ These had been the last

words Wind had spoken as The Dark Loon had left him for the second

and the last time. Though not a predictor, he mostly trusted their

foresight, and now, looking down the valley between the unnamed

mountains, he thought he could see their vague silhoue'e down there.

Three decades had perhaps changed either of them, but despite of

having similar visions, they continued to be creatures of different

directions – different roots and slightly different truths. Though again

tempted to see it all to an end, The Dark Loon had decided not to stay

to watch the ground change. No, from now on, his direction was

north.

There were certainly things to be done before he could retire from

his many roles – things and strings that needed to be tied, executed, or

weaved together. Not every game needed to be played out – this was

something the land had forced him to learn. Lives were much too

short in this realm and seeds grew much too slowly, but prophecies,

he believed, would always come true in due time. “Perhaps even false

ones,” he thought. Brushing off this seductive intrigue with a

squeaking roll of his stiffening neck. Whatever sinister truths were

lurking under the surface, he would see it all ascend from afar.

Turning towards the rising sun, he saw a crow diving playfully in the

lower lands, and at last, he felt a readiness to go back home. “Now, I

will be an observer,” he said, stating a loose vow of a sort as he took

his first descending step down the slope.