
Truth will always be found, it may be a hard journey, but in the end, the truth always prevails. The Great Detective Wystan lived by that statement. He searched for the truth and in turn always told the truth. In all his quests, he has unveiled many mysteries that surround many of the regions, and he could remember each and every one of them: the ancient Kawani ruins in the mist covered mountain, the ruins of gold in the wheat field, and the crystals in the caves.
The grey bodied Soquili wandered, he was between cases and looking for something to solve, to discover, to unveil. The forest was warm, sunlight filtered through the tick branches of the trees to dance on the overgrown forest floor. His red and gold wings stretched far on his back, loving the feeling of the breeze through the feathers. They wanted to take flight, but the Angeni held them back. When the detective flew, it was harder to see the tiniest of clues, and everyone knows that the tiniest of clues are the ones that make or break a case.
Ahead of the winged stallion a river carved its course into the land; water rushing down toward the mouth, out into the blue salty sea. Wystan walked to the river to take a drink; his head went toward the water and he drank from the cold snowmelt river. When he was done, the stallion looked at his reflection. Icy blue eyes stared back, each of the eyes revealed a red tear marking that made it seem like the stallion was bleeding tears.
Wystan shook his head and looked up from the mirror like qualities of the water. There were no mysteries to solve, there were no questions to ask; perhaps today would be one of those days, when there was nothing but peace.
