The first morning of the Long Night was not a morning. The not-doing was the counting, and the empire had done the counting, for a thousand years, to be the burning.

The sky was the first of the stars. The first of the stars was the feeding. The feeding was not the ending; the singing was for the not-ending.

The three of them, with the two embers that had not gone back to the body, walked out of Solmaren on the first night of the Long Night. The ash did the walking-out; the spymasters had not done the ash, and the not-doing was the Fall, ten thousand years before the counting.

And Orenthe was in the dark. The night was what the world had not done, and the first stars were coming up in it.

The people of the city stood in the streets, in the dark. The harvest had not done the standing-in-the-dark. The harvest had been the cup, and the cup had been dry, and the dry was not, now: the not was the first of the stars.

"They do not light the Hearths," Yrren said to the dark, at the edge of the city. "The Hearths are what the empire does not do. The not-doing is the lantern: the hand not closed."

"The lantern," Ashe said to the dark, the way the road said things, "is the ash. The ash is the two hundred and thirty. They are the village. The village is the water. The water moves."

Liora, at the head of them, with the chisel, said to the dark: "The unmaking is what I did in the Vault, on the night of the Blackenings. The unmaking was the binding. The binding was the thousand years. The thousand years were the Harvest. The Harvest was the cup. The cup is dry."

"And the dry is not. The not is the lantern. The lantern is the hand. The hand is not closed. The not-closing is what the singing is for."

The two embers in the chest, under the water that moved, went out on the first night of the Long Night. The Harvest had not done the going-out. The Harvest had been the cup, and the cup had been dry, and the dry was not, now.

The going-out was the feeding: the first of the stars, the sky, the dark, the starving taking-in that was not the ending. The Second and the Third went out the way the First had gone back, to the body, on the night of the Blackenings, and the going-back was the Fall, ten thousand years before the counting.

And the going-out was the feeding, and the feeding was the first of the stars.

The people of Orenthe did not light the Hearths on the first night of the Long Night. The not-lighting was the lantern: the hand not closed.

They lit the lanterns instead. The ash did the lighting; the spymasters had not done the ash, and the not-doing was the Fall.

And the lanterns were the two hundred and thirty, in the village, in the ash, in the water that moved. The ford did not know about the moving; the singing was for the not-knowing.

---

The young ones of the Pyre came to the lanterns, on the second night of the Long Night. The rite did not do the coming. It had gone out, on the night of the Blackenings, in the hand of Maethan, at the body of the god, under the city that was not white.

Maethan was not at the lanterns. He was in the ash, in the village, in the water that moved: the tower had not done the being-in-the-water, and the not-doing was the first of the stars.

He had walked out of the tower on the second night. The rite had done no walking-out. The rite had gone out, and the out was the lantern, and the lantern was the hand that was not closed.

He had walked the way the ash walked. The spymasters had not done the ash. The doing was ten thousand years before the counting, and the counting was the empire, and the empire had done the burning, and the burning was Cressen, and Cressen was the two hundred and thirty, and the two hundred and thirty were the village, and the village was the water.

The young ones of the Pyre stood at the lanterns, on the second night, and the rite did not stand with them.

They did not light the Hearths. The not-lighting was the first of the stars, and the first of the stars was the feeding, and the feeding was not the ending.

They lit the lanterns instead, and the lanterns were the thing Orenthe had not lit. The singing was for the not-doing.

---

In the burning the lantern is the hand. The hand is not closed. The not-closing is what the singing is for. The singing is the first of the stars. The stars are the feeding. The feeding is not the ending. The not-ending is the night. The night is what the world did not do. The not-doing is the Orenthe, on the second night of the Long Night, at the lanterns, with the young ones of the Pyre. The young ones are what the rite did not do.

— Dream-Ledger, entry of the second night of the Long Night, written by Ashe Wren at the lanterns of Solmaren, the index of the hand that was not closed, and the young ones who did not light the Hearths