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"Be not afraid my son," he whispers into my ear. I watch him ride off into the horizon. When he is no more than a speck of dust, I turn towards the river to face my challenge alone.

I say the ceremonial prayer and cut my palm so the blood flows into the river. I gather sticks and wrap then together using a vine. I am afraid my boat is not even fit to support the weight of a dog, yet it is the best I can make. "If only", I say to myself, "I had been the son of a carpenter". I climb aboard my poorly constructed vessel and begin the journey across the water.

As I make my way across the waters, an odd thought creeps into my mind. I remember the mutterings old woman of my village. She claimed to have known the history of our people and to even contain knowledge of the secrets of old. I remember nothing of her ranting except for one sentence, "The River of the Great Divide was once called differently by the Old Ones, it was known as the Missi" something. I could never pronounce the word she had said and yet I cannot rid my mind of this thought. I manage reach the opposite shore without accident, despite my raft's poor craftsmanship. I turn to look back west and see for the final time the night sky of my people. I begin to walk forward and I don't look back. I will not look behind me until I am once again returning home.

As I travel away from my homeland, I can't help but notice that everything is different. Ever since I made the crossing, I have yet to hear or see any signs of life. The ground itself seems scorched, as if a fire had burned the life right out of it. Without even the smallest landmark, I easily get lost. I pitch camp and lay on the ground the rest of the night. That first day was the absolute worst. All the animals that I failed to see were now stalking me, even the moon seemed to glow with an unearthly light. I never slept, and was only motivated to move after the sun had risen.

The following day I was rid of my night terrors, in fact, I begin to believe I behaved like a child. That morning I finally discovered a landmark I could follow despite my lack of direction, the sun. The passage of time was lost in this flat, featureless land.
Even the sun seemed to stop moving. So the days fused into a time of endless boredom and the night became a time of terror. I continued to travel this way for seemingly months and still never saw life. Then one day, the horned beast of deaths appeared.

The foul beasts were large and covered in coarse brown hair. They were two lengths higher than a man and covered with dangerous looking tusks. They had the body of a cow, yet of their match I have yet to see. How such large and deadly creatures could exist in a land devoid of life is beyond me even to this day. I was able to pass a herd of them, narrowly escaping the fate of the Harish, or gorged ones. My impression of this land was not improved by their appearance; it instead compelled me to finish my journey more quickly.

I continued in the barren flat lands for three months until I saw the great mountains.