THE Keepers of Existence was a Legacy that looked, from a distance, like something that should not exist during a winter.
Boundless seas of crimson gold rolled away in every direction beneath a sky that had no end, shining and warm, and rivers of the same color ran through them and above them in slow winding currents that crossed and parted and crossed again. Floating islands drifted across those seas, serene and green, some the size of small Dimensions, some no larger than a garden, and every one of them was blanketed in snow.
The blizzard reached even here. It howled across the crimson gold, and where the flakes touched the seas they hissed into threads of steam, and where they touched the islands they piled and stayed, white on green, cold settling over warmth.
