A name is a strange thing.
Names give meaning.
Most things and people have names.

I do not. I never did.
I do not need a name for I already know who I am.

But for the sake of others I call myself Midnight.

The void below the realms is my place of origin.

It is interwoven into my very being, an inseparable part of what some would consider a soul.

It calls to me in my slumber, whispering words I could not hope to comprehend.

Where most find the vast emptiness of what lays deep below the foundations of the world to be terrifying beyond compare, I find the darkness to be comforting,
familiar in a strange, indescribable way.

I found my way to this realm by coincidence.
Something compelled me to follow it to this place, something not of the void, and I obliged, my interest piqued by the lights guiding my path.

This land, surrounded by cold ocean and floating icebergs, has become my home.

My prayer to you, o great gods of this realm is humble and simple, and my offering to you is one that I have made with my own two paws.

Although it is not much, I hope it will appease you for I put much care into preparing each and every drink I make.

~A PRAYER FOR~ ~PEACE~

O great gods of Isenwyrd

Let the earth be fertile and generous beneath our hands

Bless the fields with abundance and bountiful harvests

Keep the night safe from that which lurks in the dark

Let the forests remain verdant and rivers clean

Grant us safety from the numbing frost and keep the smoldering flames at bay

May no one hunger
and may kindness grow wherever we set foot in this land

Grant us strenght to endure every hardship that any come our way and gratitude for every blessing bestowed on us

May war never reach this isolated land

May peace prevail against all odds

And may this island remain the home it is to all that live here