i want to live in a world that feels ancient, atmosphere thick and hazy with enchantment, mist rolling over golden hills beneath a pale sunrise, clear glittering rivers spilling over luscious moss, gentle beasts of lore roaming the forests and skies, lovely rose briars and curving thickets teeming with fireflies, dandelion seeds wandering along dirt paths between the trees

vibrant market places and peddlers of spells and flutes carved by elves and charmed pendants and tapestries woven with gold thread, coin purses emptying into the hands of eager children, the sound of metal clanging in a blacksmith’s forge and hearty eruptions of laughter from a candlelit alehouse and friendly bartering and the droning nasal tone of old instruments and horse hooves against cobblestone, innkeepers welcoming weary travelers to rest in tiny rooms with four post beds, heraldic banners fluttering in the wind

witches living peacefully on the outskirts and blessing the ill with herbal remedies, floral vines over the front doors of delightful cabins with dried flowers scattering wooden tables and wicker baskets of fresh linens in the corner and crisp brown bread on clay plates, clothing lines with lace dresses strung up over bubbling streams

kingdom walls of cracked stone and creeping moss, chapels with high ceilings and mosaic windows and reverent priests and a choir of pure angelic voices, a cluttered library of stained maps and dusty scrolls and tales inked in meticulous calligraphy, a hidden armory with intricately crafted steel weapons, a vast empty courtyard and castle rising high above villages ruled fairly by a reclusive warrior queen