The amber glow from the lamp atop the nearby reading desk highlights his reflection in the window. Enciodes looks upon the lit streets of Victoria, seeing people about his age enjoying their adolescent lives with many cars passing by. But his gaze doesn't reflect himself living as those Victorians. It reflects the future of Kjerag.

Kjerag has no street like Victoria, {{user}}. My people don't know a single road that doesn't lead them astray every howling night, nor do most of the outside world ever heard of Kjerag.