Post by account_disabled on Dec 20, 2023 8:04:35 GMT
The water slips away like a shadow on the marble beaches of Mekar, the largest moon of Turais. It is the light of Yathïs 1 , the most powerful of the stars, which illuminates it in the dawning day, where nameless beings feed on anguish and energy. It is the water that has no heat that of the Silent Seas, a fluid that no sun will be able to warm. Water that contains a dormant life, down there in the deepest abyss of time. I was in Mekar during his last sleep, having fled from wakefulness like a hunted dog. I walked on the veined beaches, observing that marbled shoreline that shone in the uncertain and treacherous light of Yathïs, wondering what was hidden on that distant planet, beyond the known stars.
I was allowed to walk on its Special Data surface, breathe the methane air that made up its atmosphere, feel the poisonous heat on my skin. I was in Mekar and I wasn't there, a ghost of daydreams, a child who never abandoned his imagination, a man tired of earthly existence who took refuge in the imaginary worlds that he created. On the multicolored beaches of Mekar I collected shells with unusual shapes, listening to the hidden echo of the seas from the shells held close to my ear. And then I heard. I heard my name whispered by the voice of the sea, calling for my help.
The Silent Seas had broken their oath and returned to speak to the thought travellers. They told me melancholy stories through the barbed shells scattered on the beach. Each of them had something to say, as I listened intently. And it was at that moment that I saw the sea spray like tears of pain. She was bitter, not salty, that heatless water that bathed my face. I cried too, on the thousand-colored beaches of Mekar. But that day I swore to the Silent Seas that I would return. I would never abandon the oldest life in the Universe.
I was allowed to walk on its Special Data surface, breathe the methane air that made up its atmosphere, feel the poisonous heat on my skin. I was in Mekar and I wasn't there, a ghost of daydreams, a child who never abandoned his imagination, a man tired of earthly existence who took refuge in the imaginary worlds that he created. On the multicolored beaches of Mekar I collected shells with unusual shapes, listening to the hidden echo of the seas from the shells held close to my ear. And then I heard. I heard my name whispered by the voice of the sea, calling for my help.
The Silent Seas had broken their oath and returned to speak to the thought travellers. They told me melancholy stories through the barbed shells scattered on the beach. Each of them had something to say, as I listened intently. And it was at that moment that I saw the sea spray like tears of pain. She was bitter, not salty, that heatless water that bathed my face. I cried too, on the thousand-colored beaches of Mekar. But that day I swore to the Silent Seas that I would return. I would never abandon the oldest life in the Universe.