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Under leafy mountains of wet black stones, your waters run deep. In them you hide, invisible behind crystal layers that have never reflected the sunlight. In an incorruptible coldness, under a mantle of darkness, a faerie conclave surrounds your abode. Far from the hands of man, a realm reached only by the purest of souls. A single teardrop is shed from your eyes, cast into the grail of Mother Earth. Like blood it flows, through underground rivers, and brings life to what has been silenced, and give form to what can’t be shaped.
- Gerard Vizcaíno
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Far below the passing feet of man, lies the kingdom of the gnome, old grizzled men their beards long and wild, their hearts longing for the one who lights the night. Their land made of endless crystal caverns and dripping with water shimmering with stardust, each night save midsummer they dutifully perform the procession of the gnome, jewels in hand shimmering beneath the moon. Their old worn faces stare longingly up to her grace and beauty and hold the light to their beloved. The sun had forced them down but in the shroud of night they ascend from their burrows to see the moon and add their hard won jewels to her stars.
- Isaac Knosp
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🜁: Her dwelling wings
06:20
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From sublime layers of the celestial vault you descend. No sights escape your gaze. Carrying the dreams of the world, you endlessly plow through the air, refusing to provide man with mortal wings once more. Come, blow from the northern winds, rekindle the secret flame and set it free from this suppressive darkness. Through whirlwinds of life you ascend, from the deepest caverns underground to the myriad of stars high in the night sky. Your breath bring us back home, when land was still unknown and seas unapproachable, when gods spoke to us and we were masters of our souls.
- Gerard Vizcaíno
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🜂: Father of Dragons
08:05
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Shrouded in steam and smoke beneath the earth, he waits at the turning of the new age, the cataclysm and rebirth. For his chance to forge his children once more. The dragons of lore made whole again in all their splendor. To fill the sky once more in firelight and wonder. How he longs for that day, when magic returns and all his sons and daughters can live once more beneath the sun. Once more they will enter the age of heroes, baptize the world in flame and forge the great legends of the age of dragons once more.
- Isaac Knosp
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The fifth
07:40
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Is all we see or seem, but a dream within a dream? Long have these words given me nights of countless thoughts. A curiosity that could not be sated, a thirst that could never be quenched. As I sit here now in my candle lit room, I am deep in my thoughts regarding this once again, my time is almost over, and it's left me thinking, where do we go, what do we see. The unknown is mankind's greatest fear, but for me, it has always remained a want, a longing, the last step before attaining true wisdom.
When we go, do we walk among the clouds? Dance beneath the stars? Row along the rivers of time, where things that have been, that are, and all that can be, swim beneath us? Or do we simply wander alone, in a cold, dark place, where nothing shall roam but ourselves?
Death is inevitable, you cannot defeat her, for she always gets what she wants, so we must celebrate life, and live it well, for that is the greatest crime any man can commit, not living your life. I've had a good life, and now I'm near it's end, I understand, finally, in my last hours, what death really is. It is another journey, a chance to live again, where we dream inside dreams once again.
In this end of times, I see my forebears, their arms outstretched, welcoming me to join them in the meadows of ancestors, an award, granted by our mistress death. I depart this world, in the knowledge that I am a good man, a man who shall be remembered, for honourable men never die, in the hearts of his people.
- Michael Haines
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Trova de Lid Barcelona, Spain
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