About This World

In many ways, it's not so different from what you already know. It could be any forest. It could be off in the mountains between this small town and that little hamlet connected by no more than a lonely stretch of highway that's too far away to be seen from where you stand. Or it could be down near the coast in a not-quite-tropical-summer of a swamp. Only you're not getting your boots wet. Or maybe it's just the small clump of a dozen trees or so out behind your grandmother's garden that your grandfather used for firewood, but that still used to take you forever to explore when you were five.

Of course, it's at this point that you might notice that these particular trees...well, they glow. And they didn't do that when you were five.

Normally, the sun shines around the leaves, silhouetting their edges and carving out a path to the ground. But here it goes straight through the living, green fabric itself. And it's broken down into beams that cross in every direction and spark when they hit one another until the whole wood is a crystal web of light...

...while on the other side of the world, sand weathers its own, strange, swirling little grooves through ancient stone. Somewhere below that - buried - is a labyrinth of mirrors and monsters and secret stories that explain the world as it was, and whispering...all the way to the sea, at the edge of which only the very best eye can trace out one billow of sails overtaking another. The cannon fire of the naval defenses pursuing a pirate ship is too far away to be seen or heard, though on the dead isle the sound could shake the very rocks from the top of their black, natural spires...

...not unlike the rooftops of wood and stone up north, surrounded in lush green fields and soothing gardens and the shouts of swordsmen who train hard before the sun rises too high in the sky. Rooftops, sitting lightly over the shrines, and pointing the way to the heavens...where far beyond the surface of the earth - a glistening city of light, and the stars themselves look down, across reality and all those highways and ordinary woods and people in their everyday intentions, through to the world that lies deeper and more true - in lights and color of amusement, in ice and snow, in runes of power, in the teachings of magic, in floating cities, and in temples made of moonlight. The world that lies at the heart of that which we see...and exists whenever we dream.

This is our world.
This is our FanFyria