The Winds of Crowns and Wolves
thoughts.
    The night seemed to pass by in an instant
and Neach was awoken by the brightness of the rising sun in the
distance. Surprisingly, he wasn’t cold when he awoke. Instead, he
was filled with the warmth of adventure as he set off with his
horse in the direction of the mountains which were located
northward.
    Rine had fallen asleep a few feet away from
where Neach was and was standing, attached to the tree when Neach
opened his eyes. This majestic creature was now under Neach’s
supervision and he hoped he could do it justice. He had never owned
a horse before; it was seen as unnecessary in his community where
everyone owned plots which were manageable on foot.
    He wandered toward the horse and rubbed its
back gently as a sign of affection. The horse sighed in response
and its body shook with a violent tremor. A signal that it was
ready to set off again, Neach hoisted himself upward onto Rine’s
back and adjusted his position.
    Up ahead there was lengthy patch of flat
land with sporadic trees spread throughout it. In congruence with
the flowers that speckled the, now devoid of snow, ground, these
trees served as the tangible reminders that even in perpetual
flatness, inconsistencies arise. Nothing can remain untouched
forever.
    Neach gently urged Rine forward and the two
slowly galloped through the field. The sun was shining bright to
his left and it felt warm on his back.
    It was a picturesque scene; a man on his
horse riding through the beautiful fields of Duncairn. If it had
been painted in that instant, it surely would have been included in
the halls of the great artwork of the time. Majestic and iridescent
in front of the rising sun, the two creatures came to a crescendo
of speed as they whisked through the trees.
    There was something innate which gave Neach
the ability to ride Rine so swiftly. Effortlessly guiding him left
and right, avoiding trees by the narrowest of margins, his spirit
felt free. Everything he had ever known seemed to vanish into the
air and what was left a colorful burst of nothingness, which
embraced him with the passion of a thousand happy souls.
    They glided along the plane with the
mountains fixated in the foreground; their snow covered peaks
loomed over the flatland like a giant peering into a community of
ants. With all that had occurred within the last day, Neach
couldn’t be bothered to worry about the impending trek; all that he
filled his mind with were thoughts of the beauty of the day and the
beauty of the girl he had met the day before.
    Seemingly stuck in perpetuity into his
brain, this girl whose name he did not know, who had waltzed into
his life freely, was now off wandering the streets of Leirwold,
unsure of whether the two would ever meet again.
    His thoughts wandered back to home.
    Back to the valley which he used to inhabit,
free of all worry except the next day’s work, the work which had
been done for thousands of years on that land by generations of
hard working men, the work his brother and father would currently
be doing. He missed it, but he did not yearn for the village, for
his destiny lay somewhere at the foot of the mountains in the
distance or just beyond their snowy peaks. Unsure of his ultimate
destination yet hell bent on reaching it, Neach kicked Rine with
the back of his foot once more, lurching forward with the speed of
an angry sparrow. They seemed to be flying through the wilderness,
hurdling unencumbered through the wooded expanse.
    As a cool wind blew across his face, Neach’s
eyes watered and he closed them momentarily. In the darkness of his
own thoughts, vivid visions of color and wonder permeated his every
line of sight. He opened them again to see the mountains in front
of him getting closer and closer with every passing second. The
trees had seemingly disappeared and all that was left was a patch
of dead grass.
    The closer he got to the mountains, the more
evident the path located on its face was. A road which appeared to
have been carved

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