Today is the day you put on your warmest cloak and at long last open the red door that comes and goes from the new wall down the road.

You travel for a year and a day through woods. Woods of bluebells, moss, fiery trees, and early snow.

And come to a palace, where a pale monarch begs you to find a most trusted advisor, and return with her.

Which you do, over a year and a day. By knife, by spindle, by night

And fervent in her gratitude, the monarch gifts you three silver eggs, a boat and a raven. And you sail away.