Tarek leaned against his white pine staff, just where the mountain path dipped down into a lush valley. Woods spread out beneath him and for a second, the green and gold wonder stole his breath. The land looked just as magical as the stories told. He feared perhaps in the back of his mind that he would reach disappointment past this last hill. After all, no one--recorded anyway--made the journey to the other side of the continent in decades. In some distant past, the two countries had relations, but the path now ran wild and it took weeks of determination for Tarek to pass. Not to mention the month before spent researching. Looking out on what seemed like undiscovered land made it all feel worth it.

A breeze lifted the hair off his neck, bringing the scent of fresh water. He couldn’t dwell too long on it all though. Tarek came here looking for a new home, one that he could help and love where he could not in his home city among the strict fools of old. Turning toward the east and the sprawling town that edged the forest, he continued his journey, once again along the path that cut right through the heart of the forest.

They said the very trees on this side of the mountain were 'magical'. What did magical mean? It seemed wondrous, just like the creatures he saw illustrations of in books. People with fur and animals with horns or voices that could kill a man. In Suntar, nothing ever spoke from out of the water and in the far reaching sands, hardly a thing moved. The forests he knew stayed green year round unless snow covered them, but he still new nothing of magic.

Sighing, Tarek passed through sunny beams of light without paying the least bit of attention. He was too stunned by the existence of this forest at all to even properly look at it.