"There’s something to be said for the caress of starlight upon your bow. It’s a tantalizing thing; she’s a fickle thing, our mistress- the endless void. She calls out to you from beyond with a siren-song so faint you can’t help but crane your neck further and further just at the hope of a moment’s clarity. Years later, and with many more miles left behind, you realize that you’re no closer than when you started. Her allure never fades, but the hope of ever taking her in your arms wanes. It may take a few months, or you could last decades, but, sooner or later, that wistful longing is all that she leaves you with.
Stripped of naivety, you see her for what she is: a soulless whore."
-Excerpt from the journal of the Great Enabler, Dyre Sigvaldsson.