Perhaps European fantasy is distinguished (from North American) by being interested in the microcosm. No matter how far you travel or how deep you dig there has been someone here before you. Nothing is new, only rediscovered, everyone has been doing this for a long time, the reasons for everything are lost and unimportant. Why is less important than what, mystery is to be expected, merchants are in the dungeon, the witch is in the cottage, the weight of time is oppressive, feverish.
The feeling of real horizons, new to you but well worn.