Dividing Midgahl and the Loftwinds, the Sayrsea is the stratum of the atmosphere which a typical ayrland-dweller gazes upon when they turn their eyes upwards to pray for rain or sun. Gahls look to the shape of the clouds in the Sayrsea for the day's omens, while more distant fates are written in the stars far beyond. Unlike the clouds of the Nuvesea, which can be laden to varying degrees with traces of ash, the vapor that comprises the Sayrsea is pure, potable without the need of boiling, and remarkably refreshing. As one rises to the Sayrsea, the air begins to thin, meaning that ayrships experience diminishing returns on the fuels they expend to ascend. It also becomes much harder to breathe. Here, travelers will begin to experience the first symptoms of Iscario's Curse. The heart rate naturally quickens, inducing shortness of breath, nausea, disorientation, and numbness of the extremities. The effects can only be ameliorated by remaining calm, pacing one's breath, and refraining from strenuous, adrenaline-generating activity. Though an ayrland's coastlines are frequently bathed in splashes of greyish white fog by the Nuvesea, inland regions and higher elevations depend on nourishment from the clouds far above. Granted, they are just as likely to get hail, snow, or thunderbolts, depending on the season. Most of the time though, the Sayrsea is at least partially clear, featuring predominately thin and wispy clouds that look as if the sky were dappled and brushed by the loving hand of a gentle painter. The sayrsea's cloudy streaks glow with pale pastel hues, infused with manna that increases in its potency as the day goes on. When it eventually falls on the fertile soil of the ayrlands, plants explode in a lavish verdant surge of growth.