When I was a young boy, I would wake early so that I might climb the walls of Menaphos and watch the sun rise. With the city behind me, there was but the faintest light to be had, a dull circle of illumination that petered into darkness not much more than a camel's length from the city walls. It felt as if we were an island suspended in the black, nothing beyond our walls but an eternity of darkness.
And then, slowly, a glow would appear in the dark - a point of rose-coloured light creeping into the black as the horizon slowly bled into existence. As the sun rose, the light would turn to gold as the Kharadian sands were set alight, and right in the middle of it would be the Elid, flowing like a pure line of shining sapphire.
It felt as if I were watching Tumeken himself breathe new life into the world.
All those memories are but ash now, bitter in my mouth. Sometimes I regret the knowledge that my goddess has granted me, but I cannot turn away from the truth which she sacrificed so much for.
All the beauty in this world is a lie. We are nothing but the twisted, miscarried dream of a blighted god. We are an abomination. We have always been an abomination. If we continue, what else could we ever hope to be?
I can only pray that we may yet find the strength to turn from the light and the lies and return to the utter dark.-Tefnut, disciple of Amascut