Not so Sci-fi

I feel like writing something fantastic, not blow your mind fantastic, but fantasy fantastic. As it's not in my general vein, I'll give it a shot.

Ampelron, sage of Weildwin, watched the sun rise quietly over the blank plains of the east without much fanfare or glory. He had seen the same sight nearly every morning for twelve hundred years as part of his meditative regimen. The rising sun signaled the start of his three-hour water breathing exercise, a chore that chose him; one he would rather avoid as the lakes of Weildwin still stung with the chill of winter.

With a quiet, resigned sigh, Ampleron left the porch of his humble cottage. Traversing the hill to Whir Lake had become second nature, as meditation dictates. He climbed the granite outcroppings and slick rocks without watching each step while deep in thought. The land in the lakes region changed much more slowly than the greater continent, which allowed Ampleron the freedom to learn each pebble and clod of earth over time.

OK, this isn't great, but it's writing, and the rules of free-writing dictate, regardless of quality, one must continue to write. I won't be breaking into the dragon-infested world of fantasy literature any time soon, as you can see. Well, I tried and Tolkien I'm not. Sorry it's so short, but I haven't much patience right now and a marathon headache. Adios.