Two cities stood on opposite mountainsides. A dale shrouded in thick, dark forest separated the mountains. Like eternal, faithful lovers they gazed upon each other across the woods.
One city bathed in light. Even the nights seemed somehow more luminous than elsewhere.
It's citizens were blond, bold and strong. They had wrinkles around their bright eyes from an early age from squinting against the sun, so it looked like they were always smiling.
The city had no name of its own, it was just another half of a pair. It was only Day.
Days twin, Night, was covered in fog that arose from the forest by day. The light there wasn't much from none. At nighttime, the Moon shone to the city and allowed its people to work in light that was as pale as their skin. They had large, dark eyes, long limbs and nifty fingers. To an outsider, they all looked the same and many thought there was something stretched about them. As if they had been run through a mangle. Not surprisingly, their biggest import were candles, for they were known all around the world for their fine handicrafts. If a great king needed jewelry, he called upon jewellers from Night and if his queen needed the finest gown, a nightern dressmaker was summoned.
Exports from Day included all kinds of fruits alongside with wine and liqueur made of those fruits. The most famous of them was Sunshine in a Bottle, an apricot liquer that could bring out the hero in any, and every, coward, reviwe the warmth in the worst case of frostbite and lighten even the grimmest kind of spirit. Some claimed that it could even wake up the dead, but that was probably just an old-wives-tale. If you asked about it visiting Day, though, you'd get a nogde, a wink and a smile but no real answer, one way or another.
