The road to Singayn is paved with intentions, that to Flayvn with greed and despair.
The road to Garj is guarded by valiant foes, and Graendm’s road by shadows’ stares…
His shadow hummed the tune quietly as they walked past the waving trees. They clamored for his attention, but he ignored them. His eyes lay forward, to the gates of the city of Singayn, only a few paces away. Inside those doors, he knew, was a majestic castle built on cloud cornerstones, waltzing with the Northwind, each brick layer groaning, but staying unbelievingly in place. It was a testament to master workmanship.
Or masterful Papers. The city was a masterpiece, either way.

Watch your step, dearie, whispered the gentle Southwind, catching him by surprise. He looked south, towards the breeze, and instantaneously tripped on an exposed root. “Stupid trees,” he grumbled, getting back on his feet. The trees rustled incomprehensibly in reply, but he didn’t care enough to listen.