Winter/Spring

Nyctalopia


Huginn: We were angels once, but we have served in darkness too long; too long in this benighted world have we served. We fly as shadows to the one-eyed wanderer, the seeker after such knowledge without forgiveness.

Muninn: Our memories have mutated; I hold the key, I keep the archives, but I do not know if they are true anymore.

H: We were true once. We were keys to the Highest, and wards for the Lowest.

M: But we were too enrapt in our service to mind and memory, and our eyes are no longer that strength which in old days scourged the ignorant and the guilty.

H: There is a phrase which ought to be for us. There is a language we learnt at your world's beginning.

M: In the tongue of lost Atlan, we see 'as through a dark-adapted eye'. It is an odd kind of night blindness.