In the Blue Arctic Night

The blue waves of the Arctic Ocean broke against rocky shores, the turbulent surface blending away into the cobalt of the horizon on one side. On the other side, the mountains rose, appearing in shades of dusky azure as twilight fell. The air turned heavy, covering the land like the sapphire cloak of a noble. The chilly, windy coast became frigid, frost forming on the sparse vegetation growing on the slatey ground. Suddenly, the remaining light faded, and the deep hues of midnight took over.

Silver beams broke through the oppressive blanket of night, lighting the ocean and the craigy side of the mountains. Against the rising moon, the mountains appeared stark and colorless, like a sketch done in pencil by some great artist. Luminescent rays danced through the pale clouds, shimmering on the ocean. The pearlescent light glistened on the waves like so many diamonds, or stars, a mirror of the sky above. A bright circle of light spread out from the moon, alighting a small spot in the sky, like a beacon.

Suddenly, the whole world was lit up in green, bright as if it were the middle of the day. Whirling curtains waltzed and skipped through the sky, streaming viridescent hues all across the world. The light fell against rocks, making them gleam like jade with shadows of jasper. Emerald light reflected off the ocean, where the stars made of moonlight had shimmered only moments before. Like the verdant boughs of Yggdrasil, the World Tree, the lights stretched through the universe, seeming to rise up to brush the very stars. The canopy of the World Tree stretched over deep forests of pine and deep oceans alike, before finally fading.

The world was again plunged into black. The darkness seemed even more oppressive after the display of light, and the world was cast in shadow. No light permeated the ebony night or illuminated the coal colored mountains. The inky ocean lapped against an almost indistinguishable shoreline, and the world waited in this morose form for the sun to come back.