Submission (#6664) Approved

There are few places that can match the charisma of Silveil and the city that dwells within. The isle of eternal night boasts a great deal of unique qualities, chief among which are the patterns of stars that race across the sky in a dazzling galatic dance. There was, in a sense, a little something for everyone in this place. The bustle of a dark town, alight with the cries of joy and clink of coin, perfectly suited those with more adventurous tastes. Those more inclined to quietude could instead spend a passing moment under the moonlight, bathed in patches of it through a thick canopy. Small wonder, then, that elnin from many a corner of the world travel to visit this flock of delights.

For Rom, it could be said to be the latter inclination. Though not an asocial kittom by any means, he had always found the fringes of Silveil to be a pleasant location of relaxation and meditation. It was quieter than one may have expected out of a normal shoreline — the waves lapped at times soundlessly against the rocks, sending soft gales reeling over his fur. The water would bring with it rows and rows of brilliant points, tiny lights that rose and fell in brightness as if breathing in time with the tides. Sometimes, he would see something larger wash up upon the sand: a glowing starfish, a wriggling slug, a frazzled hermit crab. If he looked further out, he would spot on occasion pulsing clouds of jellyfish, moving as a gentle lamplight deeper into the lake.

If he waded out, far out, far enough that his toes could barely touch the sandbar, he would be able to see below him the very tips of the branches of a great tree. He had seen it in its entirety before, out on the distant other side of the shore, but here it seemed more real — he could feel the way that the eldertree's energy permeated the ground and water underneath him. He would close his eyes there, and imagine that he had melted into that same energy, into the thrum of the island itself.