There is always another verdant hill over the horizon in these untouched endless lands. Once exiled and left with nothing, now I have found a realm where life can be built anew.
Now that the Elder and Shaper are gone, we can craft a kingdom of law and justice here. We can leave the militant domination of the Templars behind. No more will we have to fear those in power, for I shall be the one who leads, and by my strength the law will be equal and fair for all.
A dream, perhaps, but one that I can make reality through force. Each valley whose threats I fell is one more valley for the people I will one day bring here. They will be free, and I will be their lord, ruling by the people's respect rather than through fear or religion.
Each valley I secure adds to the width and breadth of my lands, yet when I return they seem populated by phantasms and twisted imaginings once more. Are the mists coalescing into feverish creatures as soon as I move on, or am I unable to find my way back along my own path? A kingdom lost in fog is no kingdom at all.
Yet I find that the mists hearken to my expectations in subtle ways as my strength grows. Perhaps I can control this realm with greater finesse as my might becomes unquestionable.
Yes, that is the key. I must grow stronger. Only then will my kingdom become real.
I strike harder and move more quickly with each passing clash. Always, I am on the verge of reaching that glorious flow of battle when my haste shall outmatch the mists. I feel it in my limbs, burning in my arms as I cleave the enemy in twain. It no longer matters what phantasm I fight, only that it falls in a single blow, making way for my next opponent.
The dream is close. My kingdom is nearly within my grasp. I will have it, even if it means I must fight ceaselessly and forever. Raw might flows through me, and exhilaration is my constant companion. My people will have their home.
The people hail their king! They cheer for the awe and power of my reign as I fell enemy after enemy in a blaze of golden glory. This is justice! Free lands for a free people, raising their hands and shouting their hopes out of the mists as I obliterate the enemies that fill these lands.
Finally, we are free, through the force of our arms and the blade of justice. I shall never rest, so that my people may fill the valleys of the Atlas and prosper. They will know me as they know the Sun, shining on them as I pass in a golden blaze.