In spite of going to bed late, I awoke before dawn. I rolled over with the feeling that I was being pulled away from something indescribably sweet and realized that I had been dreaming about Yurt. It was little more than a sensation, but I recognized in the dream the kingdom as it had been when I first arrived there, while everyone was still alive, before anyone started to grow old.

I looked out my window toward the eastern sky, where a faint yellow glow presaged the sunrise. In many ways my life as Royal Wizard had grown better and better over the years, as I became more sure of my abilities, as I was able to work out plans and programs and see them take effect. But six years ago, during the terrible winter of bitter cold and raging fever throughout the western kingdoms, the old king of Yurt had died. Starting then, I had begun to feel nostalgic, sometimes even melancholic, as though the best part of my life had already passed by.

It was also that winter that several members of the cathedral chapter of Caelrhon had died, including the dean. Joachim, who a few years earlier had finally yielded to pressure to leave the royal court and join the cathedral, had immediately been elected to replace him. With his new responsibilities as the chapter’s senior officer, I doubted that he had any time to look back nostalgically to what once had been.

I swung my feet out of bed, too awake to go back to sleep. I was much too young to start living in the past-I probably had a good two hundred years to go, barring run-ins with demons or dragons. During these last months at the school there had been hints that I would be welcome if I decided to stay on. I would not of course join the small group of permanent faculty members, all far older than me and much better at magic, but there was plenty of other occupation available here, assisting in advanced courses or aiding in administration, as well as giving the occasional series of lectures.