The sky was still sparkling with its dim shine.
The first flash of the sunlight reached on the icy pinnacles, and flowed softly in the fine golden mist that was spread low in the sky, as if it had been spun from the heavens. There was an unexpected warmth to the light that somehow wasn't comfortable. It was warm like sun, but soft like fire's touch. It appeared to linger about somewhere between a ghost of a memory and a soft exhalation.
A little more he waited, standing at the edge of the cliff gazing out. Down below the first signs of life were being established in the city.
Whispering was gradually returning into the air. A trickle of water. A bird's call. Leaves brushing in soft wind. He watched the rooftops glimmer with colors they did not reveal a day before as if the buildings had come to life, slowly and exhaling after centuries of slumber.
