Let me know if it's any good:

The Lesser Light hung lazily in the firmament above the sky, casting a diffuse glow over the Thiar Tir's valleys and rolling hills, its radiant white form contrasting sharply with the deep blue of the world at night. This was especially true in the Thiar Tir, where the dark green pines and spruce took on an almost black colour in the absence of the Greater Light of day. Many in the region feared the night for this reason alone; it was, for them, an evil time of the day, if in fact it could be called a part of the day at all.

Dara Trynas-inion -- Dara, daughter of Trynas -- thought it beautiful, however, and had on this particular evening taken the opportunity to slip out for an evening walk. And -- God willing -- an evening hunt.

As bright as the Lesser Light was this evening, however, the sky itself was, in many places, covered by clouds. The dome of the heavens, spread out across the world and hard as the formed glass of a mirror, would on any other evening have been filled with stars; on this evening, the jewels dotting the firmament were visible only in small patches here and there.

The Thiar Tir was a narrow strip of land bisected by a short river which connected a much larger river to the south with a long lake to the north that bent in the middle and then disappeared up into the mountains still further north. The principal city of the region, and Dara's home -- Chonaithe -- was located in the northern half of the region, nestled in between a single mountain that rested on the lake shore and a large mountain range that continued westward all the way to a vast ocean. The southern part of the Thiar Tir was filled with farms that produced all manners of grains, or across which all manner of livestock roamed and grazed. It was a small region, almost entirely cut off from the affairs of the outside world. And for its people, that was just as well; they were more than self-sufficient, and did not care at all to become caught up in the affairs of "outsiders."

Further to the south, past the last farm, was a region Dara had only ever seen from the mountain ridges bordering it. Riddled with deep pits and unsteady terrain, it was a region that none of the Tiri -- the people of the Thiar Tir -- dared to go, for it was (at best) extremely treacherous to navigate effectively. Rumour -- the sort that sprung up and festered in pubs -- held that at one time, a great and mighty city had occupied what was now just an empty and uneven land covered in trees and grasslands, but none had attempted to explore the area thoroughly enough to prove -- or disprove -- the claim. The wilder rumours, no doubt fueled by many pints of ale, even suggested that some or all of the inhabitants of that ancient city had managed to slip free of the bonds of the world, ascending into the sky and perhaps even going beyond the great dome in which the Lesser Light and all the stars were fixed. Perhaps, Dara thought, they had seen or touched the face of God as they had gone. Then again, perhaps their end had not been so favourable, if in fact they had ever existed at all.

She glanced up again at the Lesser Light, and smiled as she noticed the thin, shadowy crescent of black that had appeared at its edge. The Lesser Light had begun to wane, which meant that within a handful of days, The Solas would be visible.

Dara had no idea what The Solas were; she only knew that they could only be seen during the times when the Lesser Light had otherwise fallen into darkness, that they dotted the surface of its darkened husk.

This is something I've been meaning to jot down for years, but it's only been in recent weeks that the exact structure and shape of things has really begun to coalesce in mind for me.