[Erenthril Mael'tharias]

Mid Kalendryas, Winter, Era XV
Candlemark 1400 – Afternoon

He stood alone on a hillside, a forlorn shadow jutting against the dreary overcast, a lone sentinel that overlooked the surveys of his domain.

The rolling hillside ceased to a flat line, bowing deeply off a precipice and into the sea in the direction in which the Elf looked. Untamed, wild without abandon, the wilderness here lay uncivilized and barren to the works of man. Devoid of the sabotage man had leaked out across Carmelya’s creation for centuries upon centuries, it was a lasting testimony to the perseverance of nature. Erenthril admired it for that.

Well, and also because he owned it.

Fifteen acres, some might argue, wasn’t quite large. Was merely pocket change in the exchange and barter of lands. But for Eren, fifteen acres represented an investment. An investment that, at one time, would house a seventy room mansion with sprawling vineyards and pools. It still held the potential, albeit the idea was lackluster – the ambition had been hit and miss, and the Archmage was now obligated to other ties. Responsibility was both relieving and enslaving all at the same time, an odd paradox, if he ever knew one.