The Power of the Mortal World

A gentle breeze swept over the land, stirring the thatched roofs on the edge of the village and carrying a touch of morning chill. Sunlight spilled through the clouds onto the earth, lighting up the fields and stream, as if the whole world were wrapped in a soft glow. Morning in the little town was as quiet and peaceful as ever, and the villagers had risen early to begin their day's work. There were no fierce battles or mysterious schemes, only the endlessly repeating routines of life and the passing years.