Beyond the vast, mist-shrouded waters of the Sacred Lake lay the realm of the Creator God. The silver temple of Reisvedas stood through eternity, receiving the devout worship of all living things in Oshal for countless millennia.
The newly appointed High Priest of the temple, Lirst, stepped onto this most sacred ground with pride and a touch of bewilderment. Amid the drifting petals of the Meian Kelu flower, he encountered his weighty destiny.
(I began writing this a long time ago, when my writing was still a little immature. But this is the novel I cherish most, and I will keep revising and improving it. Each story can be read on its own.)
