Jack walked on the path with his mentor, Pith.
"How's the training going? You know, it's really very good exercise," said Pith.
"Yeah..." replied Jack uncertainly. In reviewing the training, he'd found it somewhat lacking.
"You getting your heart rate up?"
"Yeah. Walking helps," said Jack. The pair continued strolling along the path. Pith was a middle-aged man with a slightly balding head and a stubbly chin. He spoke with youthful pretension not yet tempered by the wisdom of old age, but he nevertheless had significant knowledge to offer.
"Soon you'll be using this equipment," offered Pith, pointing to a playground on the right. "You ever ridden a rail?"
"No," said Jack, imagining the act.
They walked further and further, passing through the lowlands and making their way into the mountains. All around, tall green peaks thrust upward into the clouds, casting long shadows over valleys and cozy villages. Jack and Pith paused on the path overlooking one such town to look at a volcano erupting in the distance.
The volcano was either in the early or late stages of eruption, for it was merely spouting thin, white smoke. However, it was causing significant seismic activity, and Jack and Pith watched with sadness as the tremors loosened a decorative buttress on the central cathedral of the town, an ancient stone construction.
"Oh no!" said Jack. As the buttress fell to the ground, he mourned the slow but inevitable decay of such an historic building. The cathedral dwarfed all the other building in the village and was covered in various primitive glyphs and carvings. From somewhere in the massive building, a bell struck twelve times.
"You know," said Pith, gazing wistfully at the cathedral, "this is my favorite clocktower."
"Is that because it has no clock?" asked Jack.
"Exactly," murmured Pith.
