A thousand years, and more
It seems
Since last we spoke,
Since last you dreamed.
And now memory

Is haunting me, thrilling me
Whispers are chillingly
Crawling down my spine

The memory of Sunrise,
Of Red, In-between
Of Star and Wind
And most of all, of you
My Friend.

Your gift, I have not
For I hear only Truth.
Yet She who you followed
Sometimes doth bless me.
And words come to pen
And pen kisses page
And so do I remember
Sara De'nas,
A truly enchanting mage.

Penned by my hand on the 7th of Midautumn, in the year 117 MA.