Winter deepens, bringing a biting chill. I long for it to snow, for the wonder I felt as a child to grace my eyes once more, but the last winter that brought such beauty was two hundred years ago now… it cannot snow in a region where it does not rain. The city is quiet. The city is cold. The wind whistles through stone columns, unheard by the living. I ask myself why I am still here. I ask myself why I will not let my tired bones rest, and I ask myself whether I truly believe Halani will awaken. I do. I do…