Few have the ardent desire and hearty stamina to find this gentle beast. To reach this land, one must weather goat trails and mountain passes. Bitter is the cold and many a traveler has fallen prey to hypothermia in their travels. It is not uncommon to kiss the Crone's hands as she guides you to eternal rest, especially when conquering the northern reaches of Cyrileth. Yet still... some are more worthy than others.

Fog hangs in the air, its press warm and inviting. Frigid water tumbles down into a crystalline pool. Slabs of ice float idly on the surface and freezing water kisses stone. Snow-powdered rock creates an impenetrable fortress.

All is peaceful, or seemingly so. Fish and seals are found within the waters, and those that attempt to stay are misguided by the siren's song. They see beauty in the emptiness and comfort in the cold. This land cannot support the soft of heart, and so it has become little more than a burial ground.

Magma that fills the volcano's veins has, in turn, heated underground water reservoirs. Pressure differences have caused the water to seep into a collection of pools. At first, the hot springs are too hot to touch. Given time to acclimate, however, these blessed springs are respite from the northern cold. Mist is a permanent veil within the air. It is not uncommon to happen upon monkeys bathing within the waters, and while they might appear tame, they are vicious adversaries. Those that travel alone are unwise.

Great spires of ebon' rock scrape against the sky. Hot water flows between the cracks within them and slips over the edge into the cascades.

Here is where the lovers hide from the world, their kisses tender and sincere. The maiden grabs the rival's hand and draws him away from his trials. Her touch is sweet and distracting, for he holds no rivalry here. Her heart is his.

A hidden gem within the northern lands. While Cyrileth is no paradise, the alpine lake can give the illusion of prosperity. Most valleys are densely packed with pines, yet this one is seeded with soft, green grass. Bluebells and wild wheat shiver as a gentle breeze whispers secrets. White stone encircles the valley's side and slopes toward the lake's edge.

Crystalline are the waters of the lake. The stones on the bottom can be seen from above. Small fish feed on the algae that grows beneath, the ecosystem in perfect equilibrium. Take caution, however. The lake is deceptively deep. The lake's center cannot be seen from the shore and those that venture out have drowned in their carelessness.

Come winter, the lake will freeze and withhold its bounty from passerby. It is the Fool that dances upon the slender ice, his foot falling through and his bloated body washing ashore in spring.

The north holds its fair share of secrets, and in being the most vicious region of Cyrileth, it holds the sweetest paradises.

Unlike the pine forests that so dominate this land, here there are cedars nested among firs. Mossy trunks and branches shield the Mother's children from the critical eyes above. As if shielded from all that causes pain and sorrow, very few patches of snow can be found here. The breeze is chilly but not unbearable and the prey is abundant. Foxes den beneath the roots of trees and rabbits have burrows within hard-packed soil. Caribou migrate through this wood and deer live here year round.

If its secret is tarnished by a darker shadow, then it has yet to be revealed.