COSMOS; A TALE OF NEVER-ENDING SEASONS

[JoanOfArc 4604]

COSMOS;

A TALE OF NEVER-ENDING SEASONS

  Written by Franz Nikolai Carrion-Tuvyic

 

 

Nikolai's depiction of a small house made by men of Thanatos with the winter corner in the backdrop.

 

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I write this down to more properly recall for the future that did necessary shake the very core of my being, but rather, left an impression unto me unlike any other. One day I may need to recount this testimony to a child of mine or otherwise so they may pass down this information as my grandfather, Ostromir Carrion, did to me. But for now, I shall keep it in a place none shall find and keep it safe until I will need it again.

 

May they find use for it.

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As I do not personally know where to start off at, I have decided to start off at what I was doing beforehand. It was during the waning hours of day this Autumn when I was admiring the cosmos above at my family’s castle overlooking the county of Dobrov. My sister, Elisabeth-- or Lisa to me-- yawned when the moon reached its fullest height and remarked, “Oh Niko, how must we forever watch the days of Autumn pass us by! Had I had a container to trap this weather and capture this moment, I would have done so immediately. You love this weather too, do you not? 

 

I agreed, but I left her question unanswered as to not seem childish for entertaining topics such as whining about the weather.

 

“Perhaps,” she continued when I did not interject, “There is some beauty in knowing next year there will be different colors in the Autumn’s leaves we did not see this year.”

 

 After she commented, Lisa gave off the normal pleasantries before she went to bed and how she wished for me to have a good night. We both said we loved each other then she retired to her room within the quarter of Castle Kremlin Anavet. Despite the hour, I continued to appreciate each star in the sky that I saw, until my grandfather placed a hand on my shoulder. 

 

He came out of the shadows slowly and it has since left me completely perplexed. He heard everything I said earlier as I mentioned later in this writing, but I had heard no footsteps and the doors never made a creak. Had he been outside watching us two all night? It seldom brings me calm knowing such a fact. Regardless of how he came to be outside, he asked me what I saw in the sky.

 

“Stars,” I remarked rather blandly. 

 

My grandfather gave me a blank stare (or perhaps he was analyzing me upon reflection?) and then told me to follow him without so much as a whisper to follow it up. I obliged and we walked through the Castle, twisting and turning through each and every avenue we took. The candles barely lit each corner we took, but like clockwork my grandfather placed his steps perfectly. Eventually we found our way into the deserted kitchen and my grandfather pulled up two chairs and told me to sit in one. I did so, then he began to speak of tales that I will not forget to this day. 

 

“Seeing as you pique my interest, I will speak to you of a realm not unlike our own. A realm with fixed seasons. A realm where weather never changed.

A realm called Thanatos.”

 

With those words, began the story and my initial doubts along with it.

 

My grandsire began to speak briefly on the topic of…. I do not know how to classify it exactly. He claimed to use an arcane ritual to force himself into the plane of Thanatos. The details of how he did so left rather open-ended, but once he came into the realm, he began to travel around to see what it had to offer. I scoffed a bit, perhaps audibly, but my grandfather never brought it up so if he heard me do so, he did not care. 

 

Firstly, he arrived in the top-left corner of the plane and found himself drenched in rain. As he explained it, this corner of the plane was forever stuck in Springtime. This corner is divided up into two sections: One without rain and one with rain. He unfortunately seemed to be in the latter which was rather empty beyond the dark greenish-blue plant life. Endless showers continued to pour onto him as he quickly stepped into the other section where flowers blossomed and strange animals flew around. The animals there were described as having a vague sense of familiarity to him. The ‘bees’ of the world seemed to spread pollen, but the ‘bees’ themselves were colored not with yellow and black, but pure green. My grandfather said he stopped long to observe them but never came to the conclusion of where their eyes were. He believed maybe the antennas that plagued their body could find a way to "see". Having spent enough time there, he decided to leave the corner and move to the top-right corner.

 

Hearing the descriptions of the Spring in Thanatos, I wondered if he was metaphorically speaking about the South we traveled to three years ago. In the last year of the Sedanite conflict, my grandfather and I had traveled with the Crows of Dobrov to take the manor of Whitcombe. It was a single manor in a field of white roses and lilies that littered the countryside. The manor takeover itself was a thrill and a new adventure for me as I threw rocks into the windows and went through the house to raid cabinets. The power that I felt when I stood next to that Imperial flag was… it was anything but ecstasy. I still remember how  the flowers there looked to this day as the smashed manor was in the distance behind them But alas, I knew my father spoke not of Whitcombe to invoke a memory in me, but to speak on this fantastical land he wished for me to believe.

 

As he passed through the north, grandfather went through an area he described as “completely and utterly pointless”. It was nothing more than a zone that had a new season every minute or so. Clouds above would flurry, disappear into the heat, leaves from the trees then would fall, then snow would come down when clouds materialized. A season a minute in a land with eternal seasons…. Is that what he meant by completely and utterly pointless? Was this all a magical occurrence to keep the seasons in line…? I do not know. This area was a cliff-note in his story and he moved forward without much hesitation. Perhaps this was merely a rough patch in his journey?

 

The top-right corner of the plane is a corner stuck forever in Summertime. Bright sunlight cast down from the heavens over the one section covered in plains and the other covered in a forest. The animal life was not too dissimilar to horses, deer, birds, lizards, tigers, bears, etcetera but with different characteristics. I inquired to my grandfather what he thought was most interesting or unusual about the corner and he described he was baffled about the predator-like wildlife refusing to hunt other animals. All animals ate the grass on the floor and drank from lakes within the corner. Besides that, the corner did not interest him enough beyond the plains so he left and crossed diagonally to the bottom-left through the Middle City.

 

Nothing really stuck to me about the top-right corner beyond the fact it reminded me oddly of two Illatians I knew, Cosimo and Anton. Despite being alike in that they both were Illatians and related, the two were very much different. Both had opposite personalities but shared the same blood and warm homeland-- just like that of the forest and plains in this corner.  And just like grandfather, I only liked one. Cosimo was a man that I hated with all my heart and a man I tried to fight twice over, but Anton was my best friend. A man who understood me. It is weird how some people turn out so different despite being so similar.

 

The Middle City was a circular city directly in the middle of the plane. The city itself was cut into four sections relating to the four seasons. The people were humanoid and of unknown origin, clearly not relating to Descendant-kind. Their skin color related to season their section resided: green, yellow, orange-red, and blue; being the four skin colors you would encounter. My grandfather claims to have spoken to some, but he said “they were without wit,” and merely walked emptily throughout the city to sing songs relating to their season. Upon closer inspection of even the housing in the Middle City, it seems all colors related to the seasons and even the wood and stone mimicked the colors of the seasons. And at the very, very center of the city was the only thing of note within all the city.  A gorgeous tree that had leaves were rainbow colored. 

 

Before his story continued to the bottom-left corner, I asked my grandfather if he understood how the Middle City operated if it lacked any formal economy or formal army. His only response was asking me what I thought. I questioned if it was a mage playing God, but his only answer was that some things do not have any meaning at all.

 

At long last, my grandfather arrived at the bottom left-corner where the Autumn was everlasting. It seemed to be an orange-red paradise with grass that was always seemingly the right length. The smell of pine cones and of Fall was intoxicating as it overwhelmed all within its corner. The wildlife was very playful here with fox-like animals seen jumping around with puffy fur all yipping sounds of joy. It was a marvelous place with the trees constantly having leaves fall, but the leaves only ever fell into giant piles that a person jumped into. It seemed as if this was a child’s wonderland, and despite seeming unbelievable for a child of the harsh North, I dreamt of it dearly.

 

My sister and I had always admired the later seasons to the former as the coolness brought a calming aura to those in the northern reaches of the Empire. Heat and rain, while admirable in their own right, never brought out the full idyllic north that is imagined by Southern men and women. I groaned at the notion that maybe one day I could visit this place, even if it was not real, with my sister. But then the melancholy overfilled me upon realizing I wasted so many days with her, not doing much of note with the blessed weather of Autumn we ourselves had. Winter would be soon upon us.

 

And that it had for my grandfather. He hiked up onto a mountainous terrain that had a constant blizzard overwhelm the bottom right-corner. He described it as “purely snow and encompasses all vision with white, unable for even those with the sharpest of sights to see a foot ahead of themselves.” Had there been animal life that resided in this corner, I will never know for my grandfather marched and marched, but came across not one. Having seen that it was a barren wasteland that was the bottom right-corner, full of emptiness and nothing, he decided to return home using the same arcane ritual he had before.

 

“That is it? An empty region with nothing of value to mention to end the story off?” My grandfather shook his head and stood up. I was so enraptured by the story, I did not notice the small amount of sun rays peeking through the window until he stood.

 

“None. But that is all of Thanatos. Seeing as you admire the seasons, I do believe you must have liked it.” He said with an ominous tone, but a tone I disregarded.

 

“But why tell me this tale if you ended so quickly and without a moral? Is there a piece of this puzzle I am missing?” I inquired to him, confused.

 

“Why would I tell you a tale for naught? Here.” Grandfather spoke behind his chair and reached into a small box. He opened up the box to much my astonishment and I saw a number of knick-knacks, including a leaf. He reached in and grabbed the leaf and handed it to me then left in the dark, not returning again. It was a rainbow leaf.

 

I held the rainbow leaf in my hand with disbelief as I walked up the steps and back onto the balcony where I was before with my sister. The sunlight from earlier dimmed as clouds blocked it out and flurried snow onto my skin. I looked up as it covered my eyes, wiping it off soon after and looked over to see the county turn slightly white. 

 

It could not be…. Did he really travel to another plane-- another world…? The snowing continued as my thoughts flew across my head.

 

The winter of my youth had begun, and the spring of my adulthood was nowhere in sight.

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Spoiler

None of this information was made public.

 

The only person able to read this document is Ostromir as he saw Nikolai make it.

 

[Lhindir_ 3691]

((A superbly put together piece.))  

[Tigergiri 3073]

 

Spoiler

This was so relaxing to read! Such a great piece