I must say that I enjoyed my time at this place like no other. It was a peaceful, quiet place that bustled with life and work in a strange but homely mix. There was the soft breeze which blew past as birds sang the songs of spring. There was the laughing and playing of children as Silvana and I walked past, and the gruff but warm greetings of the villagers as I was introduced.

There was something innately charming about simple folk who never left their village. There were the wide eyed young boys that asked after tales of daring knights and grand heroes. There was the equally wide eyed young girls that pestered me endlessly for the descriptions of distant lands which I have never seen and beautiful princesses which I have never met. As Silvana commanded I did not speak, but returned a small smile to anyone I saw.

There was always a peculiar twist on words whenever the villagers spoke. Helyo instead of hello. Waya doing for what are you doing. So many tiny differences from my language to theirs that my words would distinguish myself. Maybe that was why Silvana asked me to keep silent. I would be marked out from the crowd for those who wanted to harm me.

What frustrated me most at the time was just how confusing and new the world was. I had walked past what seemed like a forest of portals and arrived at a small village of a land I knew nothing about. I walked, hiding my identity from enemies I knew nothing about, while blindly trusting the words of a woman I knew nothing about. Needless to say, unpleasant, but I will say it anyway.

As I walked through the village I noticed a particular excess of fields and a particular lack of buildings. There were a few dozen homes each holding families of what I would assume to be four or five. No shops were in sight except that of a blacksmith, who had a wood cabin nearby which no doubt was their home. I could hear the slamming of hammers on something even several houses away.

The whole place was big and small at the same time, however little sense that made. The sleepy place was nothing compared to the megacities of modern times, but it gave off the feeling of an overgrown yet welcome home. A home that consisted of far too many houses and residents.

The ignorance of the inhabitants was charming in a way, but also rather concerning in others. It made me feel a bit more intelligent than I was when a farmer asked if melon trees were truly as beautiful as the legends said, or if the phoenixes that spat silk really had rainbow wings. But then, there were also rather terrifying moments when a wise woman asked if I had any belladonna to treat coughs. It made me afraid for the poor children that would end up in her dusty old claws.

It took some time for Silvana to disperse the crowd. There was something about her that radiated warmth whenever she spoke to the villagers. Maybe a habit of treating old friends well. The way she acted around me I would have suspected there were electric wires snaking behind her back and arms. But around these people which she no doubt knew for years I could not see the difference between her and a well educated country girl.

But she was a noblewoman, that much was apparent. Everything from the confident way she held herself to the commands hidden within every word spoke of her elevated status. She commanded the most genuine form of respect from the villagers, trust. Whenever she said something they never doubted her, and when she gave an order they would obey. There was no elaborate ceremony of bowing or scraping. That was unnecessary.

We soon arrived at the manor house. All things considered it was rather simple. It was twice as large as most homes, with a large courtyard in front overgrown with weeds and with trees sprinkled everywhere. But it was only one story high, while most houses I remembered had two.

The gate was large, but not ornate. Nor was it locked. Silvana simply pushed the gate open, and I was in the garden. We walked past a small garden littered with fruits and vegetables before entering the wooden home. On the inside, it was far larger.

The wooden home that I stepped inside seemed like a whole other world. It was massive, far beyond what should have been possible given the exterior. A stairway led up to a ceiling five stories tall, and decorated doors of gold and silver towered far above my head. Around me, there was shelf upon shelf of books. Painted titles and golden letters arrayed in impeccable neatness. There was not a spot of dust among any volume I could see.

High above the floor closest to the roof, I heard a man laugh. "What a joy to see you again, my dear. The manor grows cold without you, and it has been chilling my old bones for the past few months!" He called.

Silvana curtsied. "My apologies, godfather. I was-"

He waved it off. "No need, my dear. Wander as you like. Now, I recall that the longer you venture the greater treasures you find. If my old head hasn't gone senile it's been almost half a year."

"One season, godfather." She corrected.

"Bah, what's the difference? Now, what is it that you've found for me this time?" He said, turning to me.

Silvana's "godfather" as she called him was a middle aged man. He had a long beard trailed down his chin, and a smile that made me fidget. Maybe smile wasn't the right word. It was disorienting and uneasy to see. Like the face of a hyena about to dine on the corpse of a fallen wildebeest.

"A true celestial from the highest land stands besides me. He calls himself Leon Marshall. I found him in the Waywood injured as he is. From what I could tell, he fell from the skies above during the opening of the Worldgate."

I felt my blood run cold as I heard her words. Something about this conversation wasn't right, I could feel it in my gut. There was something bone chilling about that smile the man gave me, a smile that should have been amiable.

"I see. Forgive my manners, Venerable Marshall. Come dine with us, I'll see to your injuries." His smile widened.