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SUMMARY: A short tale about the adverntures of a priest Samet. He travels to the broken eastern lands to find out his own truth, and his people's past. Figure out where he is before the last paragraph

My name is Samet. I am writing down an account of my journey so that others may prosper from what I have learned. I am from the village of Ushermet, a great town of commerce at the meeting of two rivers. There I am the son of the high priest Menet. I have lived in my village for over sixteen years, never venturing from within its mighty walls. All that will soon change, as I am sent on the great journey.

I have come of age and must embark to the holy cities of the east. There I will receive knowledge that only a privileged few before me have ever known. Only the seventh son of the seventh son of my holy family of Durat is allowed to go on this quest. This burden falls upon me, but I wish that I could just stay home. If I were to remain here, however, my clan and the entire tribe would be disgraced. I shall travel with my father as far as the river of the Great Divide. From there on I will go on alone, with only this pen and paper to keep me company.

Today we begin the preparations to travel east. The tribal elder has agreed to lend us his horses, but the stable hand seemed was quite wary of lending us any animals. After my father invocated the Orinis binding chant and promised to return the horses, the man seemed satisfied. The women of the village have provided us enough travelers' bread to last several months, so much in fact that we couldn't bring it all. Lastly the blacksmith gave me a prized Ourinas blade which was used in defense against the west invaders many moons ago. After preparations were complete, the entire village joined in the karishna dance to give us luck and the gods' protection. We saddled our horses and rode off, marking the beginning of our journey.

As we begin our travels, I am filled with a great despair. Our target is the great Terachinas River and it is here the boundary between the Living and Dead lands lies. It can only be crossed by one pure of blood, mind, and spirit. This sadly, will have to be me and although I know I fulfill the blood requirements, I don't whether or not I have the strength of will to pass. If one is not all of these things, he will drown and be carried by the river to the edge of the earth.

Besides the daunting challenge that lies before me, my short companionship with my father is also filling with great anguish. He will not speak to me, nor may I speak to him because sound of any sort is forbidden on my journey. This great trek of silence is supposed to calm my spirit and mind in preparation for the trial that is before me. In reality, it does the exact opposite and fills me with dread. How I wish I could speak to my father, and have reassuring sounds of his voice in my ear. But this is not to be as we travel east.

We are getting near the great river. The ground is beginning to slope downward and more grass is growing making our trek even easier. I catch my first glimpse of the river and am filled with a sudden weight. The waters I am to cross are at least three stone throws. I turn towards my father, but his iron gaze offers no relief. As I get off my horse and get my few supplies of bread and goat cheese, my father breaks the sacred silence.