Temaatilised lood ja laulud

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Die
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Temaatilised lood ja laulud

PostitusPostitas Die » 20 Veebr 2009, 19:11

Kaks kõrget kogu seisid künkal ja vaatasid puude vahelt alla mere peale. Pikad ja sihvakad olid nad, mõlemal paar kõrgeid kaunilt kaarduvaid musti tiibu. Nende pead olid esteks kaarna pead, ning nende all miskit peaaegug inimlikku, ainult väga mustade silmade ja kulmude ning jäähõbedaste huulte ja nahaga. Mustad sulelised juuksed katsid õlgu ning kehad olid kängitsetud pikkadesse pidulikesse rüüdesse. Ka need olid mustad.

Loorina nende ümber lehvis õudne ja kummastav hümn.

"Ehk peaksime neid hoiatama, Loregrane," ütles üks. Aga teine raputas järsult pead ja vaatas oma kõrval seisjat lausa etteheitvalt.
"Sa tead, et meie kohus on vaadelda ja mitte sekkuda."
"Aga sa ise tulid ometi siia. Miks siis, kui sa mõtled neil lihtsalt randuda lasta ja..."

Loregrane'ks nimetatu naeratas.

"Mul on uudishimu, Ingarin. Ma tahan näha, mis siin sündima hakkab."
"Ja sa ei kavatse sekkuda?" usutles Ingarin teda.
"Ei. Mitu korda pean ma sulle ütlema, et ei."
"Maharthane sekkuks!"

Loregrane ohkas.
"On näha, et sa oled liiga palju aega Vana Valgesule seltskonnas viibinud. Maharthane'le on nüüd rohkem lubatud kui meile. Aga teda ei ole siin ja see on hea. Meie oleme. Ka see on hea.
Ja tuleb see, mis tulema peab."

"Ja see siin on oluline?"
"Vägagi, Ingarin. Vägagi. Muidu me poleks siin."

Nad vaatasid, kuidas laev ududest välja ujus ja randa tüüris. Siis kadusid nad taas puude varju.
It's not a world of sunshine, strawberries and fluffy white bunnies. It's a world where you fall and the vultures gather for a feast.

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Die
Rollimängumaniakk
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Liitunud: 18 Aug 2004, 16:19
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PostitusPostitas Die » 20 Veebr 2009, 19:11

"Näedsa, jälle ta istub seal," ütles mees oma naisele.
"Mis?"
"Ma ütlen, et jälle ta istub seal. Idunn, aga sa ei kuulagi ju mind. Sa oled ka juba nagu Helje..."

"Olen vist jah," ohkas naine. "Ega ema südame vastu saa, see on juba Maa-emast antud, ja ta on minu laps, minu tütar, ehkki ma pole teda kandnud ja ilmale toonud, aga veres ja väes on ta ikkagi minu."
Mees aga raputas pead.
"Veres ja eriti väes on ta küll pigem Cajsa jagu, mitte sinu, naine. Või siis pole ta kellegi jagu. Kes temast aru saab... Vist isegi Cajsa mitte."

"Keda sa enne ütlesid kuskil istuvat, Bent?" küsis nüüd Idunn oma abikaasalt ja pani kraapimisnoagi käest ja naha sülle.
"No eks sa kae," vastas mees ja sirutas käe põhja poole, kus kaljunukil võis tumedat täppi näha. "Helje ikka, kes siis muu. Kui Cajsa poleks tal pead segi ajanud, oleks tüdruk ehk ka kosjad vastu võtnud, aga nüüd..."

"Ära räägi nõnda, Bent," keelas Idunn. "Cajsa vägi tuleb kõigilt neljalt, tema teab, mis Marenile hea on."
"Ja see hea on nüüd see, et merest tulnud tüdruk jälle merre tagasi peab minema, uitama kes teab kuhu, kaugele oma rahvast?"
Idunn hammustas huulde ja noogutas.
"Ju siis nii on. Mereisa ta meile andis ja Mereisa on teda tagasi nõudnud. See on tema retk, nõnda nagu igal nõial on oma olnud."
"Nõid," ümises mees. "Oleksin tahtnud tütart, mitte nõida..."

Idunn ohkas ega ütelnud enam midagi, võttis aga uuesti noa pihku ja hakkas karunahalt rasva maha kraapima.
It's not a world of sunshine, strawberries and fluffy white bunnies. It's a world where you fall and the vultures gather for a feast.

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Die
Rollimängumaniakk
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Liitunud: 18 Aug 2004, 16:19
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PostitusPostitas Die » 20 Veebr 2009, 19:13

"Tere hommikut," ütles Adael ja paterdas laevalaele. "Kuulge, kas valged lohed on olemas?"

Madrused vaatasid poissi imelikult ja pöördusid siis oma toimetuste juurde tagasi.

"Kas on?" nõudis Adael järjekindlalt ja sikutas ühte neist varrukast.
"Misasja sa sokid," tahtis madrus lõpuks teada. "Mis valged lohed? Segast peksad. Ei ole siin mingeid valgeid lohesid." Ja et poiss vaatas teda seepeale säärase äraolevalt sihikindla pilguga, siis lisas meremees kähku ja karmilt: "Ja et sa ei lähe säärase jutuga kaptenit või tüürimeest tüütama!"

Nii ta siis ei läinud. Ainult mõtles, et kas nad olid olemas, või ei olnud.
Caius aga nõjatus reelingule, vaatas merd ega öelnud midagi.
Viimati muutis Die, 17 Mär 2009, 01:46, muudetud 1 kord kokku.
It's not a world of sunshine, strawberries and fluffy white bunnies. It's a world where you fall and the vultures gather for a feast.

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Die
Rollimängumaniakk
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Liitunud: 18 Aug 2004, 16:19
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PostitusPostitas Die » 20 Veebr 2009, 19:15

"Teisel pool vett" ametlik teemalugu ja hümn - (Daleios leidis) -

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x2sd8UMUaIk
It's not a world of sunshine, strawberries and fluffy white bunnies. It's a world where you fall and the vultures gather for a feast.

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Die
Rollimängumaniakk
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Liitunud: 18 Aug 2004, 16:19
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PostitusPostitas Die » 14 Mär 2009, 13:32

Tuulest kantud rannale ja laineist puhtaks pestud
Sõnad valged lehel, katkematus reas
Kui ka küsid millest? Sellest mis on tehtud
Ma ei otsi vastust, tead ju isegi

Päevast päeva ootan imet, aga see ei sünni
Mõnel rasekel hetekl olen käinud siin
Päike, kuu ja tähed mind ei hoia kinni
Miks ei saa siis lahti sellest madalast

Küsi vanalt mehelt, ta on rohkem näinud
Kas ta tunneb seda, millel pole äärt
Aastad mida kannad, teed mis oled käinud
Olgu sinu hinnaks, nad on seda väärt

Keegi veel ei oska mõõta kadnund aja hinda
Tema ikka omasoodu jätkab oma teed
Alles siis, kui jalg ei tunne enam kindlat pinda
Ärkab torm ja segi paiskab hädamere veed

Kui on aga elust endast võetud viimne valu
Algab päikseloojangul ka minu ümbersünd
Kannan hinges üksindust, mis uuristab mu ihu
Kuni leiab pilu, millest välja poeb

Kauge kaja teiselt kaldalt jälle siia kandub
Meri vaikib, tasa kohisevad veed
Aga silm see otsib laeva, mis ehk siia randub
Enne kui mu elu neelanud on need


U. Alender
It's not a world of sunshine, strawberries and fluffy white bunnies. It's a world where you fall and the vultures gather for a feast.

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Die
Rollimängumaniakk
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Liitunud: 18 Aug 2004, 16:19
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PostitusPostitas Die » 14 Mär 2009, 13:33

Ikka püüdlen veel päikese poole,
ehkki õhtused varjud on teel.
Ikka sünnib veel südames soove,
talves kevadet igatsen veel.

Oma armastust matsin liig kaua…
Tüütas tõsidus, kahanes lein.
Jätan aegade rohtuda haua.
Peagi kasvab seal maarjahein.

Ees on risttee. Ah, kuhu küll minna?
Kural kurjus ja paremal vaen.
Läheks otse! Kiri viitab, et sinna
igal õhtul kaob päikeselaev.

Ongi jõgi. Ei silda. Ei koolet.
Õhtuvarjudest näiline tee.
Ma pean minema. Päikese poole.
Ja ma lähengi. Üle vee.

Ma ei oota. Ei kõhkle, Ei peatu.
Kuni näkku lööb päikeselõõm.
Sünnin uuesti ja olen eatu,
veres pulbitseb tõeline rõõm,

et ma tahtsin ja suutsin ja võisin
jätta hallus ja enesepett.
Juurdun. Päiksesse avaneb õisi
süda tulvil on kevadet...


U. Alender
It's not a world of sunshine, strawberries and fluffy white bunnies. It's a world where you fall and the vultures gather for a feast.

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Die
Rollimängumaniakk
Postitusi: 28014
Liitunud: 18 Aug 2004, 16:19
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PostitusPostitas Die » 14 Mär 2009, 13:34

Õhtune aeg, käib seina mööda
Hommiku naer ei kaigu veel
Helluse aeg on ammu möödas
koidiku kaugel, kallastel!
Valgus mu sees on siiski alles
armsamad näod on silme ees.
Hoia mind nii, et jäeksid alles
Hoia mind veel ka unedes.
koduga koduaed, varjab hella häält
kõik mis on pühades.
kaugusse kaldub laev, avab pehme hääl
siiski su poole ma teel.
Värevel leek, kui helk su silmis
soejenda mind sel halla ööl,
nägin ma sind või und näen ilmsi
hiline tund ka kell ei löö.
valgus mu sees on siiski alles
armsamad näod on silme ees.
Hoia mind nii, et jäeksid alles
Hoia mind veel ka unedes.
It's not a world of sunshine, strawberries and fluffy white bunnies. It's a world where you fall and the vultures gather for a feast.

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Die
Rollimängumaniakk
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Liitunud: 18 Aug 2004, 16:19
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PostitusPostitas Die » 14 Mär 2009, 13:35

Hing haige ja hell, loojub lootus,
Vaikib suu, vaatad kaugusse veel.
Ning tiksuja kell unund sootuks.
Ainult tuul väljas uitamas veel.

Kõik läheb mööda.
Käivad rõõm ja kurbus käsikäes,
küll Sa näed, kord tuleb päev.
Öö läheb mööda.
Koiduvalgus kingib Sulle väe,
küll Sa näed, siis on uus päev.

Kui raske ja hall tundub saatus,
Siiski veel hoia tuld enda sees.
Kui leek tuha all kustus, jäätus,
Siiski veel lööb kord loitma ka see.

Kõik läheb mööda.
Käivad rõõm ja kurbus käsikäes,
küll Sa näed, kord tuleb päev.
Öö läheb mööda.
Koiduvalgus kingib Sulle väe,
küll Sa näed, siis on uus päev...
It's not a world of sunshine, strawberries and fluffy white bunnies. It's a world where you fall and the vultures gather for a feast.

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Die
Rollimängumaniakk
Postitusi: 28014
Liitunud: 18 Aug 2004, 16:19
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PostitusPostitas Die » 17 Mär 2009, 01:55

Oli hommik.

Caiusel oli pohmakas.
Kapten Rhauria Isheril oli samuti pohmakas, aga Caiuse pohmakas oli vist hullem, sest ta oli trümmist tulles komistanud millegi otsa, mis osutus mets... ptüi, padrikuhaldjaks. Ta oli kaalunud see tegelane tekile vedada ja katsetada, kui hästi need murumunad ujuvad, aga ta otsustas siiski enne minna ja kapteni käest küsida, et kuidas säärase sammalhabeme olemasolu Põhjatuulel üldse võimalik oli. Ta mäletas päris selgelt, et nad olid kohtunud Sepriast tuleva laevaga, et hunnik tülikaid vinguvaid reisijaid olid laeva vahetanud ja ta mäletas mitut hansavaati, mis olid samuti laeva vahetanud ja tema meeldivasse lähedusse kolinud.

Aga padrikuhaldjat ta ei mäletanud, ja seega ei lohutanud teda sugugi vines silmadega Rhauria Isheri, kes talle seletas, et kui öösel oli olnud mõningane vaidlus metshaldja Põhjatuulele võtmise üle, siis oli tema, Rhauria Isheri, isegi Caiuselt küsinud, et kuidas oleks, kui võtaks haldja laeva.

Caius Athas Ienith mõtles ja puuris, ja siis hakkas talle miskit vaikselt meenuma. Ja siis tahtis ta pead vastu seina taguda. Järele mõeldes, võibolla ei pidanuks see just tema enda pea olema.

"Hansa," urises ta poolenisti omaette. "Ma mõtlesin "hansa laeva", mitte "haldjas laeva"."

Aga nüüd ei olnud enam midagi teha, sest kapten Isheri ei nõustunud seda sammalhabet siiski särgedele söögiks viskama. Nii et nüüd pidid nad selle tegelasega leppima.

Caius mõtles, et kui hansajoomine tipneb pohmaka ja padrikuhaldjatega, tasuks tal teinekord ehk pisut ettevaatlikum olla. Pisut.
It's not a world of sunshine, strawberries and fluffy white bunnies. It's a world where you fall and the vultures gather for a feast.

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Die
Rollimängumaniakk
Postitusi: 28014
Liitunud: 18 Aug 2004, 16:19
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PostitusPostitas Die » 23 Mär 2009, 12:35

Keda huvitab, et millest ploti idee üldse alguse sai, siis pean ära ütlema, et kõiges on süüdi minu Saksamaa sõber Anja, kes tellis raamatu kaanekujunduse eest fanfictioni ühe oma tegelase kohta. Tegelaseks siis mees, kes nahalt must ja juustelt valge.


Once upon a dream, a strangest of men came into my forest and I gave him a piece of my soul. Unknowing, he carries it with him now, wherever he goes – I know not where. I cannot follow him, I cannot leave my forest and yet sometimes, when the nights are clear and thousands of stars shine cold upon me, I, too, dream and when I do, I see him. When I wake I wonder if I ever saw him at all – perhaps I but dreamed him and so he came to be to give me a little solace in my loneliness.

„Shazer Quan, Shazer Quan,“ the icicles called out at me that night.
„Sleep and snow,“ I replied, continuing my flight upon my forest. But the children of the snow were restless tonight and would not cease calling out my name.
„Shazer Quan, Shazer Quan!“
„What is it? Why do you not play hide and seek, why do you not sleep, children of the snow,“ I asked them as my shadow fell low upon the treetops.
„There is someone in your forest, Shazer Quan. There is someone by the shore, Shazer Quan.“
„A fox, a deer,“ I replied. „A broken tree and you disturb my flight.“
„No, Shazer Quan, no! Four black limbs and snow white hair! There it rests on the shore, black and white, black as coals and white as we. Come, you must come and see it, Shazer Quan, for it was Cora Opag who brought it here.“
„The Keeper of the Lake of Dreams sleeps still, deep in her cave beneath the core of ice and waves,“ I sighed. „But I will come and see, you give me no rest unless I do, will you?“
„We will not,“ they said and danced around me as I spread my wings and glided towards the Lake of Dreams.

There he lie in the snow and its children danced upon his skin.

„It is a man,“ I whispered. „I have seen them from afar when I fly to the very edges of Giraheeg and cast eyes upon the meadows. Sometimes they come with great mounts, bearing arms and cloaks of fur, but of those who come, none returns. Giraheeg takes them, Giraheeg sings them lullabies of cold, cold sleep of death. Why has Cora Opag brought him here?“

I cast my eyes at the lake as I landed beside the stranger. He lie naked and I stood alike by his side.

„Cora Opag, why have you brought me this man,“ I asked of the lake, but the Keeper of dreams was dreaming away and the lake oh so silent. „Cora Opag, what must I do with him? Must I leave him here so that he would dream of winter for ever?“

I knelt down and with a tip of my finger lifted the lids of the man. His eyes were the bluest I had ever seen. My eyes were grey, they were winter but he was still warm, he was alive and his eyes so blue.

„Sleep on, Cora Opag,“ I told the lake. „This one is mine now, mine to keep.“
„Shazer Quan, Shazer Quan,“ the children of the snow poked me. „What will you do with it?“
„I will take him to my cave, you little nuisances. I will lay down with him and bring him back to life.“
„Shazer Quan, Shazer Quan, why will you lay with this man when all others that came have slept, slept and never left Giraheeg?“
„His eyes are summer blue, that is why,“ I said. „His skin is black as the coals and he is fire. His hair and the marks on his skin are white as you are, that is why. Cora Opag brought him to me, that is why. Need you more reasons, children of the snow?“

They danced around us both. „Three is enough, three is enough, Shazer Quan!“

And so I picked up the man from the shore and upon my back between white wings I bore him to my cave. There I lay him down on autumn leaves, my precious autumn leaves from the one and only autumn so long ago when I was still a child. They were beautiful and soft, as were his hair and his skin. And his eyes had been warm summer blue.

But they were closed now, his summer eyes, and his body so black and cold. I brushed my ears over his chest. His clock was so silent, I feared it would stop and he would be no more, he would come no more just as the spring never came, and then he, too, would be but a faint memory.

„I will lay down with you now, my gift,“ I whispered, wrapping my arms and legs around him until he lie cradled. He was so cold, he was a stone, a smooth coal and his breath so fragile. I could hear it with my heart but not with my ears. I touched his lips and they were ice, I touched his brow and there were icicles melting, children of the snow dying upon your brow, did you know that, my gift?

I placed my hands around him and my face upon his face. I put my lips upon his lips and breathed warmth and fire into his mouth, for mouth is the entrance and exit of one’s soul and I feared his would leave, so I sealed his lips to swallow his soul and give it back to him. A kiss of life was mine, and the kiss of death was mine, as well.

A day and night passed, and the children of snow gathered around my cave, calling out at me.

„Shazer Quan, Shazer Quan, why don’t you come out and play?“
„I can not, children of the snow,“ I replied.
„Why can you not, Shazer Quan,“ they asked. „Is he not cold as we, dead as the old frozen trunks of the trees?“
„His soul has not left him and so mustn’t I,“ so I said and they left, disappointed.

A night and day passed, and they came again, the children of snow.

„Shazer Quan, Shazer Quan, will you come out and play?“
„I can not, children of the snow,“ I replied.
„Why can you not, Shazer Quan,“ they questioned. „He is cold as the caves of Cora Opag, his eyes are closed, he does not move. He is boring, Shazer Quan. He is dead, Shazer Quan. Leave him and come out to fly and play.“
„Begone with the wind!“ I cursed. „I will wait another day and night, and then smear him with my blood. He will wake, just you see, you wicked children of the snow!“

They fled and a day passed and another night flew away, and when it had, I did as I had sworn – I cut into my flesh and let the sweet blood out. I smeared it upon his brow, I covered his cheeks and drew stripes on his chest and belly. I touched his buttocks and thighs until he was covered, and then I bent for that final kiss of life, giving him three drops of blood, sealing his soul.

His eyes blinked and very slowly they opened. So blue, and in them I saw my very own reflection. I watched him watch me. He sat up still and stared at me. I reached out and touched his cheek. He asked me something, but I shook my head and pressed fingers to his lips.

„Do not ask and do not fear. Your tongue is strange to me and mine to you. But you are safe here. I am Shazer Quan, Keeper of Giraheeg, the forest of dreams, the forest of winter everlasting, and you my gift. Shazer Quan, remember me, my precious gift.“

He listened, but tried to rise. I placed my hand upon his shoulder. How white it seemed against his blackness.

„You have just come back from the dead, my gift,“ I told him. „You must lay still, you must rest and I will take care of you.“

He listened, and my voice was soft to his ears. He cast his eyes upon me and I knew what he saw, but under his eyes I felt more beautiful than ever before. I was a strange creature to him, my eyes so big and shaded, my lips pink, my skin so light and glittering.

He surrendered and lie back. I piled leaves around him to give him warmth, and then I lie by his side. I put my arms around him and he looked at me, saying something. If only I could understand. If only he could.

I had no words to give him which he would understand, so I gave him my lips and he accepted. When I rested my head upon his chest, he moved a hand and brushed his fingers through my curls. I wrapped his around my finger and we smiled at each other.

Hesitantly he reached out and touched my breast, but when he moved to draw away his fingers I caught his hand with mine and held it still.

„No need to fear,“ I whispered to him. „No need to understand. I am here and you will live, that is all you need to know.“ So I said and yet I was curious as to what he was, where he came from. There was no cloth on him, no other cover than his skin, smooth as flow of a a spring. There were strange markings upon his arms and another on his belly, and when I traced that one with my fingers, he winced. I feared I had somehow caused him pain, but then I looked into his eyes as he said something, and from his face and tone I could read I had indeed caused him something akin to pain, it’s beautiful neighbour called Pleasure.

„What hand gave you these,“ I wondered, and he reached out, touching a tip of his finger to my forehead, then tracing the contour of my face. I understood it had been a woman of my shape and sound.
I came to touch the marks on his arms, but he shook his head. Those had come from a different sort. They were beautiful and white on his body. I felt an urge to touch them with my lips and so I did, resting my chin on his belly and tracing the white lines with my lips and my tongue. I felt him shiver and mutter something, his fingers in my hair, upon my shoulders, going over my own sensitive skin.

For the next little eternity I re-painted his markings with my tongue and my lips, all the while hearing and feeling him shiver, his fingers digging into my skin, pressing me hard into him. He felt warm now, and good. He pulled me up and kissed me, his hands sliding down my waist, my hips, fingers round on my belly, my buttocks and I laughed because it felt good, it felt ticklish and warm. His lips tasted of worlds and people I had never seen and would never see. Now and then I would catch a glimpse – a face here, a sound there, a note of music, a colour, a touch.

He had had it all and I yearned for this world, I yearned for him to be my guide. His hand slid between my thighs and gently he pushed them apart. Hesitantly, I gazed into his eyes. His blue was calming, he would not harm me. I surrendered to his touch as he took his warmth and pushed it into me, I cried out and bit into his lips hungrily as he made us one being, his end in my beginning. He put his arms around me, bringing me even closer and I felt him move inside me, filling me with the world, everything he was, had been, would be and I knew then he would leave but I would stay with him, always, a piece of me, the piece he took, the piece I gave and I surrendered with a sigh.

He took me and placed me inside the crispy bed of leaves, and then he thrust himself again into me, going deeper and deeper until he filled my very being. My wings swelled and when he bent down to drink another kiss from my lips, they surrounded us both. For a moment he seemed confused, but I smiled at him, I wrapped my limbs around his body and then he, too, had wings and we both could fly, and we did, right there in the pile of those leaves of my childhood.

That day lasted for days and we spent them in bliss, cradling up to rest only to gather strength for another flight, another unison and I would never have enough. Sometimes he would be restless, but I soothed him, I sung him lullabies until he buried his unease inside my body and it vanquished. I purified his mind while I healed his body.

Now and then I would go out to look after my forest, talk to the impatient children of the snow, listen to the lullabies of Cora Opag, but each morning I returned to my cave and the warm embraces of my Cronachan. He had given me his name. I had given him myself.

One morning I returned to my cave and when I saw fields of snowdrops blooming around it, I knew he had gone, I knew already, before storming inside and finding our bed empty. I flung myself down inside the leaves and I cried. The children of the snow gathered on the roof and some even danced inside, landing on my shoulders and whispering soothing words to my ears, telling me to wake up, come and play, forget him, he had never been, I had but dreamed him, dreamed him, wake up, Shazer Quan, wake up and fly with us, oh white dragon of Giraheeg!

My life went on without him as if he had never been, and yet he had given me something and taken something upon his leave.

Each spring the snowdrops bloom around my cave and young children of snow ask me:

„Shazer Quan, Shazer Quan, what are these things, these little things of white that sprout from earth, black as coal?“

And I reply with a reminiscent smile:

„These are my cronachans.“
It's not a world of sunshine, strawberries and fluffy white bunnies. It's a world where you fall and the vultures gather for a feast.


Mine “Teisel pool vett”

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