Away from the world, in a homemade home, there lives a student of all things wonderful, logical and spiritual. Where the only visitors scuttle under the floor or spin webs from the eaves. The wind blows wisdom through the window, the sun heats the scales of the roof and the cold east breeze forces a fire to be born, under this evening’s nutritious meal.

The Hermit, a reclusive scholar, a patient being, sits in his armchair reading. Books overflow from shelves that surround him and a piece of unfinished artwork supports the wall. The room is quiet, yet the sounds of notcurnal activity can be heard from the forest. His chimney puffs into the night warming the leaves on trees that support the slumber of roosting birds. As resins cleanse the room, a smell reminds him of the first time he stepped, young and ignorant, into the world of his mentor; The Hierophant.

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