The night falls on the Beorg Mountains. Crickets play their tiny violins while other insects hum their song. The stars shine brightly against a dark sky. Above the mountain, the moon is painted black.
The crater's stone is flushed smooth at its base. I sit and wait.
'How will I know that the gate will reveal itself?' The question is difficult to answer.
Despite reading various accounts of the Sumerki City, I am at a loss regarding how to enter. My gaze turns towards the sky. 'Please don't let their stories be only tall tales.' Whenever patience is tested, doubt becomes a key adversary. Yet, it's critical to simply believe.
'Magic is found through faith.' Nyr’s advice plays in my mind. He does not refer to solely one's relationship to a god or many gods, but in oneself.
"We all are magical," I say with a sense of nostalgia.