In Darsoania

The sound of the wind constantly hitting the buildings around echoed throughout the night.

It was a beautiful cold night. There was a sigh then a gaze directed at the temple. It was really cold at night. The day was already cold but its coldness was a blessing compared to the night's. An owl flew over the city, spreading its wings wide. It was an odd owl with a story. They said its wings had never stopped flying since it got on the sky, that the land didn't seem to welcome it and instead it cursed it to never stop flying. The first time it stopped was in front of a window, called by a strange voice and breaking the curse that has been laid upon it. Since then, it has been grateful for the human.