My first sight of the Temple of Karabor took my breath away. As we crested the wall of Shadowmoon Valley and began the journey to where the Temple was nestled against the white stone, I could see it in the distance shining in the sun. Polished marble steps and balustrades blended with crystals harvested nearby and lush garden courtyards. Even at this distance I could tell that, like many of our cities, this great temple lived in harmony with the surrounding land. Rather than forcing itself into the landscape, it melded with it, flowed with it, and it added to the natural beauty of the valley.

As we followed the road it disappeared on occasion behind the surrounding rocks and mountains of earth, yet each time it reappeared like a beacon of beauty to welcome us. Never in our travels through the many worlds my people had seen had I felt so much like I was going home as I did at that moment. My heart sang for Karabor; it yearned for it. Something deep within, buried for many long centuries, awoke and reached for the promise it could feel within that temple.

I hold to myself that vision of the temple. That first, beautiful view of one of our most sacred sites. The shining structure, so large, yet not dominating the stone at its back or the rolling hills of golden grasses stretching out before it. I longed to see the sun rising against its face or setting at its back. I could hear the promise of tranquility carried on the breeze from it. As our elekks entered the main courtyard I felt shrouded in peace and Light. This truly was a temple fit for the lessons taught to us by the Naaru. More than anything I had ever seen, Karabor was a true home of the Light.

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