As I fly down the hill and take a right at the castle, my breath is completely taken away.  In front of me, through the gentle raindrops I look across the river and see the Sevogian countryside that so resembles the view of all of the rooftops, visible from the other side of the city.  The day outside is cosy, covered in a soft blanket of grey clouds and surrounded by the comforting old buildings. I feel as if I'm back at Proctor running on the rail trail, only instead of trees, there is faded orange stucco wrapped up around me.  I pass a few walkers who give me the usual suspecting looks as I dare to show my bare legs and get exercise during their sacred siesta time.  I jog down another hill and after crossing an old stone bridge, I am soon next to the river that runs around the bottom of the castle wall.  I look up and see turrets and towers and try to imagine someone similar to me living there and looking down to where I am.  The terrain becomes uphill and I put my head down and give myself a mental pep talk, forgetting about my imaginary royal family until the next time I visit.