Citizen 958 Nepotis

My Dearest Aphantasia,

I know it will not be long before I see you again, but I wanted to record my most recent venture in search of a muse - whether it will be helpful in your own search I do not know, but I think you might find the tale amusing at least. 

I am a city rexal at heart, as you know well, and it has not been often that I elect to venture off of the well-worn path. But since we are here in your hometown, I thought perhaps it would be interesting to explore the mountains a little bit, and in a spur of the moment I decided to go on a small hike. I hesitate to call it spontaneous, though, as the mountains have been calling to me since we arrived here. Ancient as they were, they whisper of long lost wisdoms, and my feet have been itching to go find the source of this strange magnetism.

I can just imagine your expression, wondering what in The Ancient's Name had gotten into me. Perhaps the mountains were casting some sort of spell, stirring in me an urge for adventure or, far more likely, leading me down a path of madness. Regardless of which: I ventured out, following the road for a short while before veering off onto what seemed like a nice trail. It was only a thin line of bare earth, tamped down by the weight of previous travelers. It meandered along almost leisurely, its twists and bends flowing naturally around trees and stones. As I walked its path, it was almost as if I was following in the footsteps of all who had come before, and I had an uncanny sense of familiarity despite having never undertaken such a journey before. The ease was strange at first; I would not have expected a dirt path such as this to feel more comfortable to walk than the cobbled walkways of Altas, but as I continued, I found my mind able to still and release itself from its thoughts of moving forward, leaving it ample time to ponder other curiosities.

I find it interesting the way things grow here in the Pellanes; every leaf and stem seems to be different from those down in Atlas. I haven't the slightest idea of why, though I do wonder if perhaps the rexals who grow up here are likewise just as different as those of us raised in the city - Elders know you and I certainly have our differences. There is a certain beauty to that, isn't there? The foliage here is different to be sure, but no less beautiful than the ivy and gardens of Altas. The chaos of the forest is a stark contrast from the gardens whose contents march in neatly organized rows, but the haphazard nature of roots growing in and on top of eachother, struggling for their own place in the world is eerie in its familiarity. It invokes similarities to the mind, with tangling brambles of thoughts and desires fighting for their own space to shine.

In any case, I hardly noticed I had left the trail when I stepped into the pebbled bank of a small stream. It was such a little thing, water bubbling over a bed of well-rounded stones. This little rivulet was as different to the Cor as the sun is to the stars; one a brigand, the other much like a young pup at play. They both bubbled and frothed as all water does, but the voice of this stream was more akin to merriment than relentlessness or rage. I found myself following its course, overcome with the urge to spend some time in the presence of such gentle simplicity. 

Although it was sunny and bright in the landscape down below, my route was cast in shadow, due to the sun having dipped behind the mountain. I carried on, entering a copse of trees wherein I lost sight of the water as it dove below the rocks.

It was at this point I became hesitant, as I had left both path and stream behind me. But up above me I had spied a large flat rock jutting out of the side of the mountain. It looked to be the perfect viewpoint, perhaps crafted by the Ancients themselves, and I was determined to get there before turning back. In order to do so, however, I was forced to scramble up some rocks, which I'm sure you can imagine was… quite undignified; though I will say, I am not sure you could have done much better. It took me the better part of an hour just to get up to the rock I had spied, but upon my arrival… 

My dearest, I cannot even begin to tell you how in awe I was. Perhaps if I was a more skilled writer I could; perhaps I will be able to in the future. The light that spilled over the mountains was ablaze with pink and golden hues, meanwhile beams of light shot down from the fiery clouds, reflected in the barely-visible edge of the dome. I felt like I could see the whole world, and in a way I suppose I could. 

I stood there, enraptured, for quite some time, breaking out of my trance only when the light finally faded and dusk began to encroach. Turning back, I quickly realized the error I had made, as I would now have to retrace my steps in ever-growing darkness. I was surprised at how quickly the cold began to creep; though my fur kept me warm, I noticed delicate frosting around the edges, twinkling like bright stars brought down to the ground. 

The Elders must have been guiding me though, as despite my wanderings and the lack of light, I somehow still managed to find my way back to town without injury or issue. I wonder if you will laugh at me for this whole excursion; while it was a breathtaking experience, I will admit I am not sure I will ever repeat such a quest of my own volition.

Have I found my muse? I am not certain. But I think I am on the right track at least. 

Yours as always,

Nepotis

Writer: Gryphills