Silent Night

There are nights in the winter when the sky is clear, and the air is still, cold, and crisp. No wind, but sharp all the same. The snow sparkles with every step you take, millions of tiny diamonds crunching underfoot. The light that they're reflecting from the stars overhead.

Those are the nights I understand the true beauty of my birthright. Not the power of it, or the parts of it that I struggle against. Just the breath-catching, heart-aching beauty of this place.