On the final evening of his life, Boran Grean walked among the alpine meadows of his ancestral homeland. The sun was setting in a blaze of golden light amidst a warm breeze and the scent of delicate flowers. He peered down upon the village where he was born, in the valley below, many long years before. He recalled a childhood tending goats, an idealistic adolescence, and a war that carried him far from home. Years of scholarly study had kept his mind sharp even as his body slowly failed. Yet, time and time again, his feet carried him back here, to his place of peace and rest. Sitting upon the soft grass he was content with the path he had walked and eagerly awaited the next journey. Darkness was falling now, the sky splashed deep purple and red, while ribbons of high clouds caressed the heavens. Before the horizon blossomed forth a beautiful radiance, beyond any he had ever witnessed. It flooded his eyes, and with it a sense of weightlessness came. With great anticipation he strode into the star strewn sky, one journey ended, another begun.