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The craft drew closer across the water, its method of propulsion unclear since the curious sail flapped idly in the breeze and was certainly catching insufficient wind to move. The lake showed no evidence of the boat's passage and only the placid cranes marked its movement. The occupant was hooded and clothed in a way that made identifying it impossible but he sensed a quiet and tranquil power in its still form. Though the sun warmed him, there was a chill in the air that suggested the start of a great undertaking and he waited patiently for the small craft to arrive at the elegant pier upon which he stood, his thoughts on Nia as she paced nervously on the shore watching the boat with trepidation.