Within the forest fog. My steps, crushing the ice branches. The trees and branches seem to lean. The indicate a clearing ahead. I hear the chants of the leaves. I am faced with a light that comes from above. And the light is stronger every step of mine. And almost impossible to look at. But I realize, and identify. A throne in the centre of the light mist in the centre of the forest. I will not stand to look or tilt my eyes to that light source. I can not bear to look at the pure light. And before the throne burn seven flaming torches, which are the seven Spirits. The throne and his Forest King.

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