There is something to be said about the stars.  When the night is full and the clouds hidden, I take it upon myself to venture into the night and study them alone.  Their empty vastness compels me more than any meeting, problem, or intrigue; they are, from my vantage, infinite.

I revel in my smallness.  It reminds me that the matters to which I bestow great importance shall not linger long.  Most of what I do is too insignificant to be remembered by history.  I take comfort in that, for it makes my troubles seem less daunting, my fears less prominent.  I am but one figure amidst the million forms of life that occupy this space.  My smile, my laugh, my body, they will not be remembered.  Memories of my existence will fade within a lifetime after I am gone.  It is a sobering thought, yet I find it peaceful.

Tonight was the night that the Archer passed the realm to the King¹.  This is the time in which royal power is at its strength, when King Stergye is most likely to gain counsel for the stars.  I am looking at the stars for him.  Even if they do not give me counsel, the presence of them allows me to think through all that troubled me during the day.  The Roshevian ambassador, the harshness of my Lord, the worries of the King.  The strange rumors I have heard about the ambassador who left rather abruptly seem distant when I am surrounded by cold, clean air.

I have lived a good life.  Fifty-six years of existence, thirty of them serving the King, have led me to accept my insignificance.  King Stergye will be remembered for some time, and I will not.  Eventually, memories of Stergye and Tokavsk will fade from the consciousness of our yet-distant descendants.  And to me, there is nothing but peace.

1. _{Denoting constellations.}