Going on with my usual writing.
The story now reached far above 1000 lines. It is at line #1111 at the moment of writing this.
The events developed now and Alexander is in the realm of the Ayvars, or what I called "Uhir Daynur" in the story (i.e. the after-world, or the last world, both can be correct). The realm is weird, and I say weird because I really am not writing according to a pre-determined plan.
I feel a bit frustrated and down... many things go on in somehow a fast pace, and specially when it comes to people who know how to talk but do nowt know how to shut up again. I'm really thinking of changing my place or else I should get a vacation soon.
I made some minor corrections to the classification of my conlangs, and yet I need to put them in a digital form in Word or something (although I really hate to use this program actually). In the meantime, I'm also devising a new writing system for the nomadic tribes of Beten Yamta, and putting some essential remarks concerning their grammar and sentence order.