I had one of those dreams last night. One of the ones where I could see. Strange, how the world 'looks.'

I was in a dark forest, light filtering in from above. The ground was devoid of leaves and not a creature stirred. It was silent. Deathly so. But there was a path before me so, having no other choice, I set out.

I walked for a while in that dark, silent forest. During these dreams, I usually like to take in my surroundings. It isn't often a blind man is given sight. But even with that considered, I eventually grew bored of this vision. It was the same boring trees, the same boring shafts of light, and my same boring footsteps. But I had nothing better to do so I walked.

And I walked.

Eventually, I came upon a stranger. He was, as I have been told, what the altmer usually look like: tall, pointed ears, yellow skin. But this one was unshaven, long white hair running down his cheeks and his head. I had always heard them described as being uncannily well-shaven, and of course, not stark-raving mad.

He had no mind behind his eyes and from his mouth poured out random strings of thoughts-that's what I thought, at least. I could not tell if they were his own or from strange force within the forest. At a surface level, the words he said made no sense- "A thousand dead pigs hung by their throats" or "A grasshopper singing a sword through the tiger's chest." Yet there was some strange wisdom behind some of these words. Do not mistake what I say-all of what he said was born of pure chaos. There was neither order nor reason behind them. But even so, some truths are born out of that same chaos. In retrospect, I should have been terrified. The words he said made no sense yet lulled me into their madness. Furthermore, the man's body reeked, and I believe it was covered in blood. Something inside me calmed me.

Though I wished to listen to the mad-mer's ramblings more, that same stirring in my chest that did not let me fear bid me from my rest. It led me off the path, deep into the dark forest, where the trees grew thicker. Eventually, even the pitiful light from above went to nothing and I was left a blind once more. So I did as the blind do and walked forward. The darkness was just as pure as when I awoke, but the sounds and smells changed. The trees no longer surrounded me. I heard the crashing of waves and felt the soft touch of grass beneath my feet.

A laugh rang out, cheery and dressed in purple. It's owner then called out to me. "Why don't you take a little rest? You've been walking around for a while now. A little sit shouldn't be any problem."

My sight returned to me once again. And by the Divines, was it a sight to behold. I could not describe it myself given a thousand words. From what I could piece together, it was everyone called a "sunset," shining down, reflected back up by a crashing ocean.

I do not know if every sunset on Nirn looks like this. But what I saw…I am truly blessed to have seen it even once.

The voice of purple once again rang out. "Come on, sit. Enjoy the view."

So I did as he told and sat. I am not ashamed to admit that I also cried, witnessing that beauteous scene.

I don't know how long I stared at it. I do not care. But eventually, I gained enough awareness to thank the voice.

He answered me. "I am the Prince of Madness. And though in some cases that may be reason enough to run in terror or fear, right now, in this moment, you are safe. I am mad, yes, insane beyond belief. But that insanity is insane itself, and runs in every direction of itself. And what is madder than the swirling chaos before you? What order lies in the currents below and the shifting sands they carry, the waters that bear it? Or of the wind above, which distorts and blows in every which direction?"

He turned to me, the shaking, crying mess in the sands and he smiled. "I am not the father of madness, nor am I its king. There are madder than I and I cannot even call myself the first. No, I am simply the loudest voice there is among the raging currents."

He looked towards the sunset. "But it is beautiful. The sunset." Then he turned towards me. "I would look at it while you still can. You will be waking up soon."

So I did. And I stared into the depths of the sun and the strokes of light it made across the sky. And I watched as it set. And as it dipped beyond the horizon, I fell once more to darkness.

I awoke in my bed and immediately began to record all that had transpired into this journal. I do not know what I did to catch the attention of Sheogorath, but I don't think it matters. The Prince of Madness upholds one reason: to lack any whatsoever.

I doubt I will ever hear from him again. But I will forever cherish that sunset.