Enkarion drifted through a dream that bore no weight.
His body - if he still had one - was now like an afterimage, an echo of something that once existed but had passed through fire and ash, through rituals and joining.
Enkarion drifted through a dream that bore no weight.
His body - if he still had one - was now like an afterimage, an echo of something that once existed but had passed through fire and ash, through rituals and joining.
13th of Midyear, 3E 409
Border of Valenwood and Cyrodiil
The day began like any other. Misty, quiet, no sign of wildlife. The forest was oddly still. I heard no birds, no rustling leaves. Only my own footsteps and breath.
13th of Midyear, 3E 409
Border of Valenwood and Cyrodiil
The day began like any other. Misty, quiet, no sign of wildlife. The forest was oddly still. I heard no birds, no rustling leaves. Only my own footsteps and breath.
written by Maphel Ar’Vel – chronicler, found in the ruins of Celeban Tharn, words woven with memory, and memory – with light.
written by Maphel Ar’Vel – chronicler, found in the ruins of Celeban Tharn, words woven with memory, and memory – with light.