 |
The very northern part of Gi Albter is romantically called “The Place where Time is Frozen”. It is believed that the further north, the slower time goes, and eventually stops. Which might be true, who can tell the time on the North Pole?
Illusions of the Snowscapes
It is a white land, Gi Albter, a vast wide wild white land, with nothing but snow and ice. An endless plain without a mark to please the eye. A rather boring land as well. And so the mind is free to play tricks on its man, tricks, that might as well be reality. Or fantasy. Or dreams, or hopes. Or visions from a better world.And man enters a magic world of fire and ice, of wind and snow. And many a man never left that place alive.
The tired traveller moves slowly along the snowscape. There is no place to rest. And it is cold. A sip from the nearly empty bottle of fireberry wine warms the inner parts of the human, and fuels the mind.
The horizon is far away, on each and every side, and time slows down. Fon burns bright upon the snow that does not hold its warmth. The light is reflected, the warmth is reflected, and the combination of the two creates a new world made of light and illusions. Bright palaces, silver and gold like Phyarx own house are seen, rivers of liquid diamonds, humans, so frail and fragile they must be from another world.
Is the snowscape a mirror that reflects, or rather transmits, visions from another world?
The traveller stands there, cold, freezing, and gazes at the miracles that show in front of him.
A touch of snow kisses his cheek. He shudders, and the illusion fades.
But not much later, on the horizon, a tower rises high into the blue sky. The traveller leaves the trace he is following and turns to the tower. He walks over ice. He ploughs through the white, cold dunes. He stumbles over some hidden rocks. The tower is white, bright in the sunlight. A beacon upon the horizon. The sign of a new land, ready to be discovered.
But it isn’t coming closer, the horizon stays far away and the tower, mocking, just as far.
No birds, no animals, no other humans to share the despair that crawls into the mans mind. The bottle of fireberry wine is empty and left behind, a hundred, a myriad fathoms away. A beacon in the snow, a monument for the end of sanity.
It is now hunger that displays the finest dishes in the snow. And it is thirst that sends for the most excellent rivers of wine. But the frozen eyes do not know how to see beyond the illusions.
It is late. It is early. Fon does not fall over the horizon, Nox does not turn up. Lukarna is not to be seen in the daylight that now has taken the night as well.
The traveller is tired. He wants to continue the journey. The tower is so close now, just another stond. Just another stond. Just as he has thought for the last few stonds. He falls over in the snow, exhausted.
Vaya-Marei then undresses. Her gown flows on the snow, and like the naked truth the goddess stands over the fallen traveller. She smiles.
Another illusion is added to her dreams.
Or could that man be reality?
She touches him.
His hair breaks off. His frozen eyes are broken.
Vaya-Marei turns around, crying icicles.
She knew.
Life is just an illusion.
Related topics: