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Episode I – The Reasons
I am neither this nor that. My chorus is the splashes of waves in the rays of the sun at dawn. My lullaby is the chillness of the night sky. Yet even though the moon is painted with jagged scars while our memory hides in the voids between the stars, we can still trust the earth and our feet to bring us to places where we are destined to go.
"Tome 73: About Things You'll Forget or the Various Nonsense Boiling in My Head"by Grivetre The Two-Faced
The pillars of the world stand on stories sprouted from memory. Along them flow thin thoughts, like light rivers that feed the oceans. They meet rocky shores with their waves and break, merging with the dust of the wild winds, and then settle on the surface, burying the past beneath them.
Thus one leaves loneliness in an attempt to fill and capture the limitless, thereby sacrificing and completely losing oneself in order to return to its origin again.
Someone saw this on the edges of invisible boundaries, where the beginning shuddered behind the veil of what once was, and the end was just as hidden.
There, the echo softly whispered through the azure haze of the motionless halls, lulling the walls woven from cold stone and weightless lines. A keen ear could have traced this whisper to the footsteps of a swift shadow, which disturbed the ancient velvet silence.
That moment held no memory, andamong many other things, the shadow did not remember its name. It was only trying to keep up with one seeker – the same one who was casting this shadow in a rampant search for something unknown. The haste of his steps was fueled by an aspiration akin to what might be called bravery – or was it just folly? Desire, need, mystery? The seeker, like his shadow, could not pinpoint exactly what it was, yet he was here, which meant that the reason was hidden somewhere close.
A dance of white flames flickered in the distance of this darkened path and freely shared its pure light. However, the shadow had little desire to approach it and stretched out in the opposite direction. The impenetrable clarity of the flames sought to grasp everything they touched. This greatly frightened the shadow, yet it could not dare to leave the seeker, and as he advanced, the darkness around him began to change. With each new step, the ancient layers of dust and moss on the walls crumbled, the reflections of the light became clearer, and the secrets of the architecture blossomed in spirals.
Folly! Without a trace of doubt, it was folly. How deftly it (together with the unknown in its embrace) guided the light steps of the seeker through the enveloping twilight. Strangely, it did not seem that he even tried to resist it. Earlier observations and experiences had taught the seeker that everyone is a fool at first – but will he remain a fool? Perhaps that was the real question. Without any false riddles or obscure illusions…
The surrounding walls captured within their stones some eye-catching patterns shaped out of fine metals, each of which told a history of events long lost in oblivion. They flashed and slipped out of the seeker's sight, while his attention was too slow to capture them. The symbols ran by him, turning into vague strokes, resembling a whirlwind of colors under the artistic brush. Images of bygone days remained behind the seeker in the echoes of his footsteps and intertwined with disappearing elaborations of shapes.
In that stiffened moment, another question arose, but this time the truth rang within it: why was he so thirsty? The seeker's throat tightened with desire, and something glimmered in his chest. He knew the solution was near. Yes, a suitable remedy was in the brilliance of this round shape before him, but it was empty – not a sip, nor a drop within it. Where did the whim of these demanding shackles come from? Why were they demanding deliverance…
It didn't matter. The seeker did not stop – there was no way to stop. Like a ghost, another question revealed itself: will he stay at all? He heard in response some distant splashes of water. Despite all these unanswered questions, he was still here: he took a chance and crossed the threshold to conquer the revealed unknown. Moving through it, he saw how the hall began to lose its integrity. The moss-covered slabs beneath his feet softened and gave way, as if he were walking on quicksand.
The old stones of the walls followed the floor, only to fall down under the influence of an unknown force. The images melted and dissipated from the radiant light in the distance, which beckoned the seeker with its purity with every step he took. Something was eluding him, but what? He couldn't remember and didn't know what it was like to remember.
Somewhere behind, the seeker heard a bird-like chirping. The columns twisted like melting candles and blocked the way, but remained beyond the invisible limits of the seeker's gaze. The shadow behind him grew, approaching the glow, and did not slow down in front of the falling debris until an entire part of the wall collapsed, scattering its inaudible strokes on the only visible path. Something suddenly eclipsed that distant light, and the footsteps faded into silence.
Without guiding lights and sounds, everything became empty. The restless seeker took a blind step, and that invisible, empty step meant the whole world to him. The second step followed the first, then a third step, and the echo rushed to fill the void. The darkness began to move and take bizarre shapes, revealing the works of forgotten masons, carved from the gifts of the earth. The echo hinted at the direction, gently touching those tired old walls, reminding them of their existence and purpose, which outlined the seeker's only path.
When the alluring light emerged from the obscurity again, a fluttering silhouette appeared at the very end of the hall. The seeker hid behind one of the pieces of the fallen column and watched as the azure flame outlined a restless figure: she was thin and elegant, in a long, uneven dress that resembled a roughly carved imitation of silk. The figure was not alone and constantly kept her back to the seeker. She spoke in unfamiliar words in front of the fire, but her company preferred to stay in the dark.
The rustling of the dress ceased with her words when she stopped, but the more the seeker tried to examine her, the closer the figure appeared, and then she finally revealed her hooded head. She had no face, just a white bone and two gaping voids with quivering sparks instead of eyes. Suddenly, the flame went out, but the whiteness of her appearance, her high neck, and bony arms stayed imprinted like a ghost on a black canvas of darkness.
Invisible feet immediately brought the shadow to another place, but the ghostly shape in the roughest silks pursued the seeker – her gaze reappeared in the patterns on the walls and kindled a fire in the seeker's chest. He continued to stick to the shadows and did not stop until he noticed a delicate arch that seemed out of place here. The soft jade light surrounded the arch, along with tall leaves of pale grass on which a translucent beetle swayed. Perhaps this pleasant vision was what the seeker searched for?
All that remained was to enter the arch.
The passage led the seeker with his shadow through the empty heights into a special hall where azure ruled and the answers hid. Narrow passages slowed the steps of the shadow until it fell on rows of strange boxes. The seeker immediately wanted to check them all, but only one of the boxes was tied with black ribbons and seemed to be trembling, waiting to be opened.
The shadow stretched out into the shape of a knife. The chill ran through the seeker. The binding ribbons fell with a metallic clang, but the lid of the box did not give way, as if someone was holding it. The weight pulled the seeker down when her ghostly presence appeared very close to him. She was looking for him. She was waiting for him. Or so he thought…
Suddenly, like a snake, fear grabbed the seeker – she was much closer than he thought. A ghostly figure without a face pursued his shadow, and he could neither hide it nor separate himself, no matter how hard he tried. The blasted ghost was already behind the boxes that hid him; she knew he was here. Soon she would catch up with him. Run! Away, back to the arch, while there was still time!
The seeker searched no more. The fire of horror burned in his chest. The treasure defenders were powerless to save him from the bony hand reaching out to him, and he, feeling only the shock in his head, could only watch its ghostly approach. The shadow