The sun shines in Matasten in a way that I never thought I would see in the Nanten. The trees are sparse throughout the city, even as replanting efforts begin throughout. It glistens off the cleansed palace and plays along veins of jade and ebony strewn across the rooftops of the city. There is more than hope here now; there is peace.

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I took the day to walk through the streets. We’ve spent so much time hunting down pockets of Daedric activity within the city that there seems to be little-to-none left. I needed a little reprieve in any case.

Wudan walked with me for a little bit. He wants to go back to Motasta, to Banditown. He wants to find his family and bring them here. He has been given one of the empty houses near the palace grounds along with the honors and treasures that have been bestowed upon him. He wants his mother and grandmother to share in what he has found.

The buildings throughout the city are scarred in many places, marked by scorched patches and strange runes. The citizens are steadily wiping it all away. Doing their best to forget what horrors were associated with the filth.

Commerce never fully left Matasten but it still feels stunted. The selection of goods would improve if three armies hadn’t just ravaged the area. It will take some time for the Nanten Kingdom to regain its footing. Under Hembila, however, I think that the restoration is sure.

I write this from the roof of a building far to the east, watching as the sun sets through the spires of the city and dances over the palace surface. I’m trying to give my mind space to think. I want to give pause to this city now so that I never forget it, even if my life is set to be quite short from here.

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