Fantasy Musings of a Lost World || Fantasy [One on One]

[BlueXBlood]

Stories from beyond, deep within the imagination. ​

"Mystic revelation, alluding to a world far beyond the imagination,
fills the minds of the few gifted with artistic prophecy.
Somewhere, alive in the musings of lost worlds, lie unborn ballads,
waiting to be handled by the dreamers who dare to reach for the seams of fate and weave a tale.

Even the gods stand as water in the hands of the writer,
and the first stroke of the pen marks the beginning of a journey that will transcend the realms... "​

 

[BlueXBlood]

In a dream sewn by the divine,
The stars coalesce into an alluring form, beckoning you...

In a vision amidst your sleep, you find yourself standing in the cosmos.
The stars hang over-head like a thin veil that can only barely conceal a pure and bright light that fills the space beyond.
The known realm is like a reflection in the ocean that is the heavens, translucent under your feet.
The distance from which you gaze upon the known world weighs on your heart deeply, and your soul feels the mourning of the stars as they share in your grief.
Isolation... How lonesome.

"Kalisander"
The stars call out your name.
"How the divine have chosen to favor you... Your heart, of all, is in tune with the stars."
The words that enter your mind are like soft stardust that showers you, absorbed through your being and permeating your spirit.
"Tear the veil between the heavens and the earth, we beg..."

From your being, six streams of light, all a different color, cascade into the pools of space that ripple underneath your feet, drifting in streams that scatter in all directions.
Before you can experience more of the dream, though, you wake up.​

Along the winds that carried from the sea to the west, the fresh and salty air ebbed and flowed along the Ghalamarian coast, permeating the small rural village of the Ullah. The sun beamed in an amber color as it rose from the horizon, marking the dawn of the day. Many have begun their work, hoping to beat the mid-day heat, while others flocked to a rustic speakeasy within which there was cool comfort and refreshing drink. From inside, there was scarce chatter and much silence to hear Ghasaan's daily proverbs and philosophies, which he shared through song every morning in hopes that his ideals might cling to the passerby and plant seeds of thought.

 

[st. seth of onge]

As I sit at a table by myself in the speakeasy, I listen intently to the atmosphere of the place. The people chattering quietly; the drinks being poured; the sound of a ladle being dropped in the kitchen and the subsequent yells of the head cook about clumsy young people; and Ghassan's robes stirring as he seats himself and positions his arms to begin playing his mandolin. I smile to myself. I love listening to Ghassan's songs--music is one of my deepest passions. And the ideas he weaves into them are always fascinating, if not always philosophically sound. I settle back into my seat, simply enjoying the cacophony of sounds that makes up the community which I love.

 

[BlueXBlood]

Though not much of a crowd, Ghasaan manages to captivate one mind or two in addition to you, though the hustle of the day soon demands them from their seats to attend to their daily routines. The speakeasy begins to grow empty, and soon enough, nothing distracts Ghasaan's attention from you. His pleasure evidences itself in the grin that spreads across his face in a warm manner.

"Birds of a feather, my friend... the air of this speakeasy does allure the same old and wise souls, such as you and I. Come and entertain me with a conversation," he says, continuing to play his mandolin.

 

[st. seth of onge]

I stand and slowly walk to where Ghassan is sitting, avoiding bumping into others easily. I sit across from him and ask, "What catches your fancy this fine morning, friend?"

 

[BlueXBlood]

“Today is a quiet day in the heavens for myself. My meditations and pondering have been merely reflections on old philosophies… thus, today, I give you an old proverb of mine. ‘The winds carry the signs of the times, and the keen sense the traces of fate in the air.’”

“Are you keen, my friend? Tell me, what does your intuition sense in the air? Inform me of what your wisdom says of the times.”

Ghasaan lifted his head and his eyes fell shut as he seemingly absorbed the atmosphere around then, letting the sound of his mandolin fill his mind and carry him into pensive thought while awaiting an answer.

 

[st. seth of onge]

I smile and breathe deeply, soaking in the glorious music. I start to recite a poem that I've heard... or maybe I composed it... these things are common to all men. The lyrics flow beautifully with the music, and I am lost in the recitation.
"Bal khannas, wir al-bas,
Your khannas, quis al-bas.
Itha mun goruk?
Itha mun goruk?
I-khayyas nu'un
I-khunnus nu'un"

After I finish, I say to Ghassan, "That is what is on my mind this morning, my friend."

 

[BlueXBlood]

Ghasaan straightens his posture after hearing the poem. “Bal khannas…” he mutters, reciting the poem to himself in undulating tones till he finds a melody that suits his preference. “Yes..” he says, adjusting the tune of his mandolin till the poem becomes a makeshift song. “Lovely.”

Finally, he sets aside his mandolin to concentrate on more serious conversation. “Ecstasies and poetry aside, how have the days been to you, Kalisander? It is a quiet day amidst the Ullah, and I’ve fancied taking a voyage to the south or to the west. Slowly, my presence does grow stale here.”

 

[st. seth of onge]

I smile. Though Ghassan is much older than I am, sometimes his wanderlust makes me wish for a youth I was never permitted to have. "That sounds wonderful," I say. "There is much unconquered land in the south; you could find fresh disciples among their people."

 

[BlueXBlood]

“Ah, indeed!” Ghasaan says, his grin blissful. “There is much to the world, poetic one. Such beauty and discovery. I want to find and experience the voice of the stars, always, and I will chase the wind to do so. Something tells me the heavens no longer favor my place here. Or perhaps my ears have grown deaf to their whispers. I once was blessed to hear their voice but I was not great enough to deserve the divinity of their presence, and so I have grasped at the whispers.”

“My memory fails me but I presume you have never left Ghalamar, yes? Would you travel to the west or to the south with me if asked?”

 

[st. seth of onge]

"I have never left my home, and would not be entirely opposed to the idea, but o my friend," and I chuckle a little bit; "I think you have missed the entire point of my recitation! Perhaps it is not that the heavens have disfavored you, but that you have forgotten how to listen. The wind whistles and screams, it murmurs and chatters, and yet who can understand it? Who can converse with the wind, sing with the brook, dance with the birds? Certainly not the man who is so preoccupied with the things of this world. No, but only the children! Only the elders!"

 

[BlueXBlood]

“Am I to take offense at your calling me a preoccupied soul, Kalisander?” Ghasaan asked with a quirked eyebrow. His serious expression lingered for less than a moment before it broke with a chuckle. "You are a poetic soul, indeed, but I do assure you that listening has quite thoroughly been my purpose in life these many years. Among the children, I am one. A child of the stars. Thus I have tamed my spirit to be in meditation and thought."

Ghasaan crosses both legs as he sits on his chair and hunches over the table, his head propped up by his arm. A solemn expression overtakes his face. "The winds carry a scent of change, my friend. I believe it is time for me to set aside my free-spirited endeavors of making disciples and chase the divinity I sing about. Though its voice is silent to me now, I choose to interpret it as an active working in the heavens. Something is being set in motion."

"That is why I ask, are you keen? Do you sense it, too? One wise soul to another, tell me you feel the working of fate in recent days."