After the sun had vanished beneath the earth,
a chill began to rise from the unseen corners of the night.
The wind, infused with a sharp and certain cold,
leapt through the dark in swift, uneven strides.
It climbed the treetops—
and began its siege upon the sky and the soil.
Pale violet spread across the air,
like clouds torn open, fleeing in tatters.
The soldiers cried out:
Hold fast—this is only the beginning.
But night will not be night forever.
The branches have fallen.
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