Magnus sat quietly before Valeena Lake, pondering how his visit to the Island of Scara Brae had come to be. He looked upon the great oak trees of the isle, but saw in their twisted branches nothing but grim parallels of his own heart. He looked upon the pristine waters of the lake, but saw only a cruel reflection of his own insanity. These musings were indeed morbid and terrible, truly as lifeless as the pale winter grass beneath his feet, but harnessing all his faith, and all his will, he broke free.
How long would he hold? Magnus could only speculate, sometimes his hope stood unbreakable for weeks, and at other times it lay shattered by the slightest touch. This was not a guarantee most would feel comfortable accepting, including Magnus, but when no choice is given, no choice is made.
Now having completed his sorely depressing self-examination, he shifted his feet until they were in a position that allowed his to rise to the full extent of his height. Crossing his arms and sighing, Magnus gave one last, forlorn look into the depth of the lake. It was certainly as beautiful as the queen that held it's name. Or rather, she was as beautiful as the lake that held her name.
“I wonder who I’ll find today…” Magnus thought silently, continuing to abstain from returning to his dreadful disposition. “They couldn’t be anymore unusual than I am…”
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