„What do I have to do with death? I am the keeper of souls“, said Uthorn Púr. “My brother Galbreth brings the souls to your bodies with all his life force. Our daughters Aili and Nemrau make them, the souls, Galbreth brings them to you and I sever them from your bodies when you ‘die’. I keep them and mend them and tend the wounds in my home. And you can choose if you want to stay or of you want to move on, move on to the silence. The real, the final death. The silence. And it is up to you to decide whether it is a blessing or a curse.”
ocean.souls am 1.3.12 23:23


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The magicians’ festivities didn’t resemble the traditional light night celebration of Rumbach at all. Whereas dapps at home would gather at the village square, listen to the mayor’s speech and have dinner with the family, the witches and warlocks sang and danced around the Star Square, incessant and cheerfully. Their voices floated through the night, each unique and beautiful; their graceful movements were of such fierce spiritedness as if their hearts wanted to leap out of their chests.

            “Free souls of air and fire tied to flesh and blood and earth and water. Alas that chains should ever bind such hearts!” Titania said softly as she watched the dancers.

            Alrun chuckled. “That’s what your people used to say about ours, isn’t it?“  

            Titania smiled affectionately. “The elves used to say it – those who were ever free, minds ever commanding their bodies – and we nightelves still say so. Your wild spirits may struggle with ephemeral and weak bodies, but you make it a feast for eyes and ears to watch you coping.”
ocean.souls am 14.2.12 22:55


Dying swans

I love Swan Lake. But if you go running in the woods and encounter a real dying swan...

that indeed is a sight to shame and silence the heavens. beauty marred because it is just incredibly sad.

I don't know if s/he will die, but s/he looked like it. dizzy from the cold, barely moving on the frozen lake and to far on the water to be helped.

there used to be three swans on the lake. i wonder how many of them will survive. The old lady and the old man I met and who seemed to watch the swans all year said that one is dead already.

it would be sad if none survived.


"A swan of white, she came to me
The lake mirrored her beauty sweet.
I kissed her neck, adored her grace
But needed nothing she could give..."

 

 

 

oh, and... sorry, edda. really. i thought sila would be the sufferer, but i'm afraid, you're equal... sorry...

 

EDIT, one day later:
How wonderful the swan was obviously not dying. At least not now. 30 minutes ago s/he was lying in the sun, seemed to be a bit more a live and less dizzy than yesterday. And got up and strolled - yes, strolled - across the ice. Let's hope s/he'll make it until spring.

ocean.souls am 7.2.12 17:11


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