Dawn Continent, the Greyridge Mountains.
At the roof of the world, all was ice and stone, a frozen realm where the peaks were permanently crowned in snow. Yet here, in this frigid landscape, was a miracle: a crystal-clear tarn, its surface wreathed in a gentle, life-giving mist.
"The Spring of Life is a great mystery," Alexander said, standing at the water's edge. "It is pure vitality, an artifact of creation itself, compelling all things to grow and multiply. Under normal circumstances, only the masters of a world, or those with a truly pure heart, can pierce the veil of rules and gaze upon it."
He raised a hand, and a single drop of water leaped from the surface to land on his fingertip. With a flick, he sent it flying, where it dissolved into a fine spray.
If the sun were out, there might be a rainbow, Orion thought absently.
A palpable aura of life bloomed in the icy air, a vibrant, melodic presence that felt like a hymn to creation.
