As he walks into his private chamber, locks his door and sits comfortably at his desk, Mordyval stares at the candle illuminating the room. With a huge sigh he blows the candle out, leans back into his chair and stares deeply into the darkness. Hours pass as he relaxes every muscle in his body and empties his mind of all thought, leaving his mind totally open to allow his inner being to emerge and show him things he hopes he will understand.Hours more pass, perhaps even days for now time itself holds no more meaning.

Out of the darkness a shrouded figure walks up and points to a distant point, as this vision fades another starts to form. Mordyval stands on a hillside starring down at a golden field of corn. Strange is this filed though for it seems to be in different stages of development. Seedlings mixed with mature plants in no recognizable pattern.

Mordyval now stands within the corn field with a sickle in hand. He reaches over to a mature plant next to him and pulls down one of the husks on a ear of corn, yes indeed he thinks to himself, this one is ripe and sweet. With amazement he watches as the stalk seems to lean towards him bearing its single ear of corn to the front. Mordyval grins as he reaches out and plucks the ripe ear of corn from its stalk and puts it in his pack. He then touches the stalk where the corn once was and instantly the broken stalk was repaired.

As he comes upon the next ripe stalk it seems a little different somehow, leaning away as if to be hiding its single ear of corn. Mordyval reaches to pluck the corn from its stalk but instead his hand starts to sting as the husk cuts deeply into his skin. Stepping back he looks at his bloody hand and feels the anger swelling within him. Pulling back his sickle and with all his might he cuts down the stalk and rips its corn from it. He then reaches down and pulls the roots strait out of the ground and tosses it amongst the rocks.

Penned by my hand on the 9th of Phaestian, in the year 214 AF.