“Valden stumbled from one tree to another—deeper into the twilit place, passing thoughtlessly the bounds of man.

He could not have known, whether of clear mind or not. What man today was there when the old lines were drawn? On different maps—unrecognized by Oren’s seed. Maps not marked in space, but at the borders of faith or greed, death, life, yearning and all between—the old places where when man had found himself, could hardly tell the tale—stories not believed—stories hard at sale to sell.

Valden stumbled in where the door was opened, and the knight, he did not know it. The air grew close, and sweet to his nose, and still, he did not know it. The light grew soft in the mist and moss, and still his boots trodded, no time for questions afforded.

Driven in dreamy urgency, he drifted through the gold-branched gate of Yffellen.” -The Green-Roofed Tower (my work in progress)