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It was dusk in the field, the sky painted from horizon to zenith. A cool breeze rustled the wildflowers among the grass. Stars dotted the sky, bright in defiance of the eternally lingering sunlight. 

Below the stars, a silent group watched. In all their years- which, despite their youth, were many- no vista such as this had ever graced them with its appearance.

“Wow,” breathed one of them, a young boy around ten. This remark was met with similar exclamations of excitement from the others of the group - a chorus of wonder. 

Aside from the crowding youth, the mentor smiled, reminiscing on years long past. He still remembered his first visit to this place, centuries ago. Things had changed since then. He had changed. He’d made friends and enemies, loved and lost, even helped save the world once or twice. But in spite of it all, this garden of eternal dusk remained unaltered. 

“Welcome,” said he, “to the Land of Dreams.”