It wasn’t especially impressive by itself. He had seen many similar vistas of pleasant farmlands, more impressive mountains, more quaint villages, mills and farmsteads scattered in clusters across many a landscape. It struck him nonetheless—the stone cottages, the deciduous trees, the lush green, the smallfolk mountains, the gentle rains, the broken walls. The only thing the fields below him were missing was the occasional fairy tree, and Handy could have sworn he was actually back home for a moment, enjoying a bird’s eye view of the Midlands.