High up in the tower of the Arch-Mage in Winterhold, in a land swallowed by the cold and by the darkness, the thought of home made little sense. Scarlet flames seared away at the darkness of night, the bright jewels of heaven swallowed by a spreading of violet and gold and a wind picked up from the heaving seas, bringing the scent of the northern cold and ocean breath to Sathrina. As the sun crested over the ruby-flamed horizon, Sathrina thought of home.
