105. Dawn

105. Dawn

Morning in Tamriel, and the waking sun stretches her rays wide to embrace all of the land, sea, and sky.  Night’s dew still clings to the land and makes plants glisten, whilst birds call overhead one to another in choral salutation.  Everything is afresh and new, and the dawn, ever beloved of the muse, is a blank page spreading out before me, and I am it’s quill to breathe, think, and create.

I pray to the Divines that I might live this day with my eyes wide open, so I may not miss a moment of its beauty, joy, and wonder.

This I have prayed every dawn since Coldharbour.


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