The wind moved through the leaves of the trees and his steps crushed the dirt of the forest ground. The night was calm, and he needed that calm. It quieted his mind. It quieted his madness.

“Are you sure about this?” asked Medes, the little owl perched on the mage’s shoulder.

“Sure, why wouldn’t I be?” the Mage, Kier, answered as he put his hand on the stone that conformed the foot of a hill. A glowing rectangle of a greenish light appeared on its surface.

“Cause you suck at living. Literally. In general. All around. Completely and extensively.”

“Vote of confidence,” said Kier. The rectangle of light faded away and the stone with it, leaving a gaping black and geometric hole about the size of a door in its place. “Look it up.”

“I know what it is. And it is something I definitely lack in your favor.”