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Zwillingstürme im Herbst

Twenty-three years ago, the Golden Moon witnessed the collapse of that towering spire. Has Leithanien embraced a new chapter as it wished? Have the tyrant's ambitions and sins been buried along with all the pain and doubt he brought? When the poet returns to her homeland where the marigolds bloom, and the traveler plucks the strings of her cello, do the people beneath the Twin Spires still harbor hopes and dreams? Do they still wander freely? May all doubts be finally dispelled, may all questions be answered. 'I am this eternal nation. I am my own eternal king.'