The sky above was nearly indigo, the air so clean and healthful that Redfern's skin tingled with the freshness, the terrain around him wild and alive, thickly choked with a plethora of alpine woods, flowering plants, and tall grasses, a symphony of sweet colors and smells that possessed a magic if only from a physical sense. Yet Mount Rebirth was home to a place saturated with raw majika as well, the very stuff of life so rich and concentrated that the entire ecosystem atop the extinct volcano seemed nearly conscious of itself. Each living creature, each blade of grass, each petal and twig, even the rocks and soil all seemed to be but extremities of one larger whole, and most pilgrims to this sacred mountain could not help but feel emotionally touched by the consciousness and serene inner beauty of the area.