Orbsen sat in the garden.  Now that the weather was returning to its normal warmth, he could without his oni and other servants fearing that he’d take ill.  All around the cherry trees were blooming.  They looked like pink clouds.

 In the human world they would shed the blossoms within weeks.  Here too the petals would soon coat the ground in a strange sort of snow.  However, the blooms would form on the branches again almost as soon as they dropped.  It was the magic of Mag Mell.

 “Hello,” a soft voice greeted.  Orbsen looked up and smiled.  He didn’t know the person but he sensed only good intentions.  Sometimes his half-trained gift of empathy came in handy.  “I hope you don’t think that I’m terribly bold but… I was wondering if you would talk to be about your experiences outside of Mag Mell.  I’m writing a chronicle regarding the dangers of the wilds and… um,” the young man trailed off uncertainly.

 “What did you want to know?” Orbsen asked softly.  If this man was writing about the wilds, it stood to reason that he would travel there at some point.  Perhaps Orbsen could finally find out what happened to his youngest brother, lost for so long.