I was far away from this place, in a wood on one of the Grecian isles, to judge by the flora and the quality of light slanting through the towering trees. As I slipped out of the waking world in my cabin, I slipped into another in my dream, seeming to wake sitting against the bole of a great yew.
As I awoke, I felt an urge come upon me, driven by a knowledge that burned bright in the fore of my mind. The world, it seemed to me, was at this time divided upon very simple lines, with the minor distinctions of the countries being bound to one major division of East and West. This Pangean geography was a crude boundary formed as much in the minds of the people as it was in the work of the cartographers. Further, I was aware that very far away from here in a place I could not name, coexisted all the centuries that are dead, in a valley hidden from the world, but accessible to those who knew of it and were willing to undertake the journey.

Knowing this, I resolved to visit this place and pay tribute to those good years long past, and more, to take with me a wreath to lay at their feet in token of my tribute for their passing and the wisdom they have imparted.