The moon glistened in the sky, half full in its splendor. A man named after his birthplace—Elorën of Elraëd—gazed upon it and wondered. He heard a river flow by as its calm whisper echoed throughout the ruins; “Bye-bye” it seemed to say. Off in the distance, he heard the noise of someone tripping, though he did not stir from his spot. Although this meant that something was amiss, he remained peaceful in his trance. The bluish grass felt too soft and the air smelled too sweet for anything to be horribly wrong, he thought. “I know everything will be just fine” he uttered aloud. Then, the person revealed herself; it was Asrafyl of Goroth-Nor. By seeing her at this time, he knew the plan was not flowing accordingly. Fear swelled in him, coupled by surprise; he barely managed to say in wide-eyed amazement “What are you doing here this early?” Her smile went to a frown with great speed as she said “Myuris is onto us. He knows. I couldn’t just wait for the full moon like you said. We need to get moving!” Elorën felt oddly relieved “Is that all? I can handle Myuris. I thought something worse happened.” Asrafyl looked angered “What the hell do you mean?” He sighed happily and smiled at her “You still think like your people, always about the inevitability of a bad fate. Myuris cannot impede us, do not worry.” Her eyes flared but her voice regained some calmness “Are you really sure?” “Really is a confusing word.” Her anger escalated again “Now, don’t start that again! We haven’t got the time!” Elorën stood up and dusted himself off. He was practically laughing as the two made their journey down an old path “You do know where we’re going, right?” Asrafyl thought for a small while “We’re going to Ku’rayie, the Dream City.” “Good. Do you know why we needed to start on the full moon?” Elorën said this in the most angered tone he could muster, though Asrafyl laughed at his attempt. “No, you never really told me.” “Quite simply, we didn’t, but I would have liked to stare at the moon some more.” The sweetness of the air intensified until it reached the threshold between greatly sweet and too sweet, and the grass started to bear more colors than just blue alone. There was a time when nightmares such as Myuris roamed here, though this place was filtered by the Dream-catchers long ago. “Isn’t this great?” said Elorën. “All this time and no Myuris to plague us. Must I say the words?” “Don’t you dare!” Asrafyl spoke in a tone that was more at ease; Elorën thought she was giddy from the sweet air. “Ah, my friend you have yet to learn my philosophy. In this land of Bliss there is but one rule, no matter what you predict or assume through knowledge, you can still be right with confidence.”