"... Where are you going?" wonders Ranelin.

"He's distracted capturing the beauty of where you woke up in the book."

"Oh."

Kastimund immediately regrets his word choice, because -

"What does it look like?"

He closes his eyes briefly, then:

"The city we stand in is called Dawnbrook, and I think the name apt. Even now, as the sun begins to set, every building is bathed in light, but they do not let it die upon their surface. Every building has windows, catching and altering the light from every angle. Stained glass is common place, casting flecks of color that paint the streets in kaleidoscopes and rainbows. Gardens garnish near every side street, flowers just beginning to bloom, even so early in the year. This is a place of warmth, elsewhere winter hasn't even begun to consider departing, to give way to spring. Here, it abandoned its hold near immediately." His voice is soft and smooth, and doesn't waver as he speaks. Perhaps it's a blessing that comes with his curse, or perhaps he's just naturally gifted in oration.

"You slept near the heart of this city of radiant light and color. Not in the impersonal or enormous monuments to human creation, but in a quiet courtyard found off of half a dozen cluttered alleys, in view of them all. A little world that has been left to grow as it likes, without the oversight of a custodian. Here, one can look without being overwhelmed by awe or majesty. Here, one can sit and bask in the beauty of the life that grows under the care of the sun, and the beauty of the life that grows to transcend it. Here is a place of quiet, where one can stop to catch their breath."

"Oh," sighs Ranelin. "It's beautiful."

Tears leak from under the spirit's shackle, but a smile graces her face.

"Did you expect anything but?" asks Kastimund, brushing away stray tears.

"No." Ranelin wipes at her face, sniffling.

"I think I'm going to wander around putting things in the book for a couple of hours now. Do you want to come along or what?"

"I, um. Do you mind if I come with you?"

"I'd be delighted."

"Okay. Do you mind if I sit on your shoulder?"

"Not at all!"

"All right." Her tears are mostly dry now, and Kastimund dutifully guides her to Riale.

"Firefly?" asks Kastimund, once his charge is safely on Riale's shoulder.

"I'm okay."

"Then I believe I'll see what there is to see of the city."

"Okay. Have fun."

And Riale wanders off toward the nearest interesting landmark.

"Do you want me to tell you about the things I'm putting in the book?"

"If it's not too much trouble," demurs Ranelin.

Kastimund departs.

"No trouble at all!" he says. "So the window I put in just now, it was this huge kind of oval-shaped thing showing a waterfall in a forest. Lots of green and blue, really amazing detail work. Landscapes are just about my favourite kind of visual art, I'm not sure why, it's hard for me to pin down what I think about art in a way I can articulate... there were little bubbles in the white glass around the waterfall, I'm pretty sure it was on purpose because there weren't flaws like that anywhere else in the piece. Made it sparkle. It's a west-facing window so it's still in the sun a little; I think I caught it at exactly the right time to see it at its best."

Ranelin listens raptly. "I like landscapes and architecture," she says. "Large sweeping pieces where you can see for miles. And then if you have more than one in the same room, it's like you can step to different worlds." She smiles. "I think you saw it at the right time, too, too much light directly on stained glass from the outside can make it all seem dull and flat. From the inside of the building, it's a bit different."

"Architecture is cool," says Riale. "Ooh - that's Rose Mountains granite, what's it doing all the way over here? The Rose Mountains are a mountain range in the northwest, lots of beautiful pink granite, I can't imagine how much it must have cost to fly this much of it all the way across the continent but I also can't argue with the results... it's a big stone building made of rough granite blocks with huge arched double doors, I think that's mahogany, what is this, a library—? No, it's a museum. Dawnbrook Museum of Natural History. You know, I bet a natural history museum is a great place to look for things to put in the book."