Journal of Kazem

Sunveil

 

The Naming of Sunveil

Day 967

I have decided to name the village. Or perhaps, it named itself.

In the early hours, just before the sun crests the horizon, a mist rises from the resin trees—fine as silk and golden in the light. The villagers call it "the veil," a gift from the land, a breath of magic that signals the start of harvest. It cloaks the fields, the stone paths, even my robes if I wander too far.

It was a child who said it first—running barefoot through the haze, laughing. "The sun wears a veil here," she said.

So it shall be called Sunveil.

The name feels... appropriate. There is still much I do not understand about this place—why the covenant named me, or why the mastic here is purer than any I’ve seen. But I know this: the land has power. And now, others must come.

I have begun preparations for a City Stone—a permanent conduit for travelers, scholars, and fellow wizards. With it, Sunveil will no longer be a forgotten outpost at the edge of the Golden Plains. It will be a gathering place. A waypoint. A name spoken beyond the borders of dust and sand.

I do not know what will come of this. I only know I cannot carry this place alone. If I must rule, I will make it easier for others to arrive.

Let them come.

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