My dearest Brasa,

I write to you through the dragon, for He has given me his quill and claw. Though you have never seen my face, and you are now a long dead saint of the once golden age, I go to the Temple every night to kiss your stone-made cheek. I feel your presence and your love, and I often sleep by your unchanging side, wishing He would send me back to you. None the matter, that is not why I write to you today, my love. I fear this may be the last time I am allowed the chance to do so, and there is still oh so much to tell.

I often walk the red shored of Massers in the early dawn, thinking of what to tell you, away from the watchful eyes of the Munmer, the Star Elves. Have I told you of them? It was they who took us away from the cog-world, the world of made of eight men. Gods? Nirn, I believe it was called in your days. It was dying, you see, and they came down from the skies and promised us refuge here on their home world. I suppose it was for the best, or we'd now be mere corpses on the gears of the shattered world, but oh, my sweet, the Munmer are not so kind.

Their refuge keeps us safe, of course, but at such a great cost. They have eyes of glass watching us wherever we go, reporting our actions on mirrors for their masters - their creators. We must not walk the streets past dusk or before dawn, for that's when the Beasts are birthed, and our lords say it is them who keep them at bay. I do not know what to believe, but I dare not look further, lest the elves in black come for me like have so many, who have never been seen again. Though, I suppose it is of no matter.

the Stars of Aetherius itself are going out, my love, and I fear the worst. It was worrisome when I saw the gears of the shattered world stop winding, but the Master told us not to worry. He and his loyal Munmer make no comment on the death of the Stars. Each night, if you look closely, you are able to watch the Night Father claim up to two hundred stars. Possibly more. He has been eating them more readily, as his gluttony grows. Last night, I saw an entire region of heavenly bright star-filled sky go black. I made haste inside, and awoke to find the Sun half its size. I know not what it means, my sweet, but I fear the worst.

Your beloved,

Roland Amassa, registered 10e.1015897