When the midnight waves are cold the sea above us awakens.
It's full of life, moving,
the fractures in the black void gather and are cast away forever,
or for now.
A million lilies bloom in those valleys,
a thousand fireflies with wings so fragile
and a hundred fairies gather to light them
yet none can ease our agony.
Even the wind brings ten lanterns
and hangs them from the ceiling
when one quiet wish escapes our lips,
as it carries us
upwards, where there is no wind at all.
And the sky is so bright
above the stars.
Underneath it lies
a sea of dark lazurite
waiting to gain a new prisoner,
waiting to chain a new wanderer.
Will it be you, or will it be me?
Who wills it, too wields it.
That who taints the glow,
they must fight the Elder-
and emerge, victorious!
When we gain knowledge and are born wiser,
we seem one step closer to the ultimate truth:
That the sky is brighter above the stars.
We know, we went there
once with my mother for yours was sick.
We took the lights away for a moment
just to see if that would aid us
or destroy us
...but neither happened.