It's rare Alear isn't in such a deep sleep one of the Stewards doesn't have to wake him, but it happens on occasion, like this beautiful morning. The sound of birdsong carries through the air and a warm breeze flutters through the cracked window, the sunrise illuminating the room in golden hues.

Alear rises with a yawn, smiling at the sheer beauty of the morning. He scrawls a quick note and leaves it on his bed so whoever is on wake-up duty doesn't have a heart attack, and decides to make the most of being up so bright and early for once, grabbing an old book from the bookshelf and heading out into the garden of the Somniel.

He sits under a tree, getting the best of the shade and the rising sun as he cracks the spine on the book and smiles softly to himself, scanning over the words contentedly.