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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Stories of the Sunworld

Submitted: January 02, 2017

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Submitted: January 02, 2017



So ever long and yet… What’s time in here? We have all the eternity. Look, Wanderer and let us pour these images into your beautiful eyes.

Among the gardens of everlasting beauty and peace they are sitting and watching the still sunset. Their faithful pets are next to them, playing. White raven and eternal kitten. Next to them, the Lovers are like a painting done in colours of steam and life. She has her hands around his strong arm. Her head on his chest. So gentle and fragile. Yet nothing will ever be able to come close to harm her for she’s a flower growing around the mountain that loves her ever so dearly and purely. They’re watching a scene now…

And what a scene it is? On the neighboring island - just a bit lower than theirs - the King of Actors, the Hermit, is releasing a new dance with a boy, two sisters of the madman and a woman. She has a lock of blue hair and eyes as grey as mist. Beautifully mysterious she is, captivating men with her hauntingly elusive beauty. She’s dancing, no, she flows around the stage like a cloud of fog in her white dress and with her emerald necklaces and bracelets. She smiles, but is never laughing. Haunted by those she loved.

The boy is trying to follow her example but he’s not as good as she is yet. His dance is sure and steady but just a bit not enough. His best friend, a teddy bear, sits on the edge of the stage watching his friend, caring for him. The music of a violin comes from the grove nearby… Let’s see who’s the virtuoso… Who has the talent?

On a lonely bench, hidden among the bushes of glowing flowers, sits a girl with strange eyes. She was named after a drowned woman, when she was brought back from her own watery grave. With a look full of adoration she’s watching her beloved angel play his violin, the madman is making all his pet rats dance in a circle. The girl laughs, as her most beloved and dangerous lunatic is prancing in a circle making his flock do the same. They’re happy. The winds are circling around the grove too, wanting to join the dance, but the Dwellers want to be hidden from the invisible eyes. They can't hide from us in our Sanctuary though.

An owl flew by the grove and passed onto another island covered with dark night forest. Its mistress, the Huntress is sitting on a tree branch, reading something she borrowed from The Last King. She turned a page and smiled, watching how two little cubs from her pack were playing amongst the green below. The Huntress hears everything happening in her forest for she is it. She is its roots, its branches, its echoes and most importantly, she was its whispers. No longer human, but spirit of the Whisperwood, of his Will.

A flock of flying stingrays passed above the Huntress’s tree, alarmed by a couple of screaming rockets. They are the Princes riding their questionable flying machines. Huffing and puffing as if they’re about to explode, the torpedoes, all covered in graffiti, were bringing their riders to an oriental house built on top of a gigantic shell. Inside the house the twins’ parents and their little sister were having tea. The young princess above all was wishing to join her dear brothers, but alas this time she failed to sneak out of her parents’ attention. The Royal family was enjoying a peaceful chat with their friends, the Lady of the Ship and two brothers of the madman. They’re having tea with sweets and cake. Talking about life, sharing their stories. Beautifully decorated rooms are full of mysterious allure and smell of dawn.

But far away from all this, on a distant island, sits a young man as serene as a spring evening. He’s reading a book and dreams of edges of the universe. He’s much older than he looks. The man is dressed in darkness and his hair is of colour of fresh snow. And eyes of his are like blue ice of frozen world we’ve seen long time ago. Everything about this man makes one think about time, but also, everything about this man makes one feel free. As if he shook off something that was making him someone he hated long time ago. And now he is exactly who he always wanted to be. Or maybe this man slept for so long that in his dreams he saw something that made him this way. It’s his secret.

A black cat with golden eyes appeared from the shadow behind the man. Effortlessly, the feline approached him and turned into a man, dressed in a suit that was made of not black nor darkness, but of the blackness of the cosmic night. The King of Shadows put his palm on the young man’s cheek and stayed like that, watching the islands with his golden glowing eyes.

The EYE is back with us,’ He said ’We are going to resume the Songs.’

The young man caressed his hand, so elusively and yet ever so lovingly. As he put his book down, he said ’Then we shall get back to work my love.’ He looked into his lover’s eyes ’Although not just yet for you will sit beside me and watch this beautiful scenery with me.

I have work to do.

And doing it you will be. But now you will sing with me and share your summer wine with me.

The King of Shadows smiles and does as his lover told him. Watching the Dwellers and the beautiful Sanctuary, the Night Lords poured themselves two glasses of wine, embracing and whispering to each other things that we would never tell.

Close the curtains, sweetling. It’s enough for now. Dream beauty and remember, we’re listening.

 Here’s a secret, keep it.


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