The dead are waking. They are taking to clouded flight, westward as the wind carries. They cannot stay, they cannot relent. The sky is an ocean, the mountains a pit, the dark is a light. The waters provide and the king is dead, the sun so long hidden by the moon. Hear the music of the spheres and fly. Now, into the night.

The first people must be the last. Lay to rest what they began, solve the spirit, and descend into deepest abyss. Die again at apogee and live in reverie flight, here.

There is rest to be found.

Note: Reverie Flight is unfinished, and will likely remain so.  It contains some graphic violence and harsh language.