Suns
Beyond the Walls of the World, there is the land that is not forsaken, but it is past the recollection, beyond remembering. It is laid bare when no one even takes a glance. It is waiting to be greened, those are the dunes of the sand’s memories. Among the Watchers of the Fallen God in its protected cocoon are even bear kin people with the Chariots of Gods. The last magic (Little Science and Higher Mysteries) are growing with the emboldened vivacity when the Dragons are in the vicinity, all that is wilted, shall mature again, and when there is no green, it shall be sprouted, all what Elves do, it is pervaded by the same, ever higher. Therefore, when the God moves, it is moving the mountain tops, it changes the known faces of the sand, and its purpose is uncloaked and the writing lines are inscribed in the water of life’s youth, for those who continue where you halt.
Incurring another who will come in its place. The Grand Sandworm was speaking without even hearing its thoughts, it was having what to say, even when there were no words, and it was speaking about the times that are coming, it was wording through the bounties that shall be rewarded, and it shall be the succeeding level of the layered sediments which are remaining to be calcified for the epochs that are rushing to their sides. God has spoken, and hence the sand is talking as well, the King of Dunes was God Emperor of the Sand, and it was interchanging its measures upon the will that was seeming too volatile and too changeable for Elf’s, and even Wolf’s taste, or to any of their liking, but that was the verity of the unspoken word, everything is impermanent, and those who do not embrace it, they shall fail, for it isn’t the survival of the fittest, but of the kindest that are habituating with what the life is flinging at them, and God knows, the Incarnate, all was embodied and propelled to be hurled at their secureness which no one had. It was proven to be challenging at times, when the Grand one was conversing, the discussion was digressing, when the Grand one was addressing, it wasn’t heard at all, not through the minds of the tamed lore, neither by the brains of the ethereal tracts.
All was surrounding the ones that are heeding those who may have something for you to listen alone, and it was vocalizing the future, it wasn’t dictated, and no one could predict or foresee the next layers of the Deep. It was striking at them, for they were the undead race of the unfading folks.
- You have come to hunt, on whose orders? On whose bidding? On whose behest? On whose request? – the voice wasn’t of this Time and Space, it was of something that they couldn’t illustrate through their elflike magic.
- It intimated that…
- It wasn’t bespoken, just because you are the huntsman, it doesn’t give you any right to come to my sand terrains and take what isn’t yours to own. You are not the predator who hunts for hungriness or the lack of food. You weren’t lacking anything, these are the standard laws of the sand, and for the people who are living in the cohabitation with us, they are acquainted with it, and you should know it, by then, that there is no hunt in the sport, for such an activity is something that is jeopardizing the lives of the living.
- I am so regretful. I really do feel that I could… - Just come here and do your wishing? Oh, no – upon this, Huan was growling, just a bit, just to implicate that he may tell anything, but never to threaten his Owner – even your dependable wolf may utter that I was nothing but the hospitable host to you, and to your loyal Wolf, nothing else and nothing more. That is what I am asking in turn. – Just to leave and not to ever come back? – You may come back, but you must make your pledge, to give me your word of the Elf, that you shall never find in your conceit, to come over here and to wreak havoc upon my territory. Is that clarified for you?
- I didn’t do anything! – The intentions are the ones that matter, that are as a cleared mirror after the storm has sprinkled its rain upon it, together with your wolfish companion, you should know the truth in your heart. But you remain shut, and that is why I had forced you to come here. Not because I am your nemesis, we have so much to reciprocate to one another, but because I want you to see for yourself, what it means when the hunter becomes the hunted. For you weren’t starving, you weren’t thirsty, you had no why you had reached my areas which are congealed with life, and yet, you took it unto yourself, to judge and to appraise – Celegorm was tongue-tied, it was as the God does speak, but in the mold of sandworm, why? – Why, you who is both the King of the Dunes, and even grander as God-Emperor of Sand, is evincing oneself as the representation of Worm? You can be anything, yet, you are willing to be in this ugly-looking body of yours? And do not look down upon me. It isn’t all about the beauty of the figure or the fair complexion of the skin, but still, I am weighing myself to catch upon what you are preaching to me, for I see no sin. I can go to my woodlands, to the dells and to padlocks, and pastures which are specked with the greenswards, I may walk and take into my free lungs such freshness and not to take heed to anything but to take all delights with my Wolf and who would ever be able to deny us?
- That is why you fail, that is why I hunted you down, it is why I made you appalled. I startled you, knowing that you may survive me, but if you keep walking this path of yours, nothing but the set date is what awaits. – What are you spouting about? I have done nothing but respected the life.
- Naught stays unchanged, and so, you may not hold onto what you were for all this time. Dear Elf Prince. There are truths which are infinitely bound to the determined affairs, and there are those who seek what they cannot find. You are asking yourself, each day, how to prove your worth, for having the son as it is Jon Snow. You never left the shadow of Ned Stark – when it was said, Celegorm was pulling himself up, he was surfacing onto the sanded surface, grainy in its gentleness, from the mother he was born, and this is how he represented himself, how he introduced with the silver linings which were his crown and his birthright, while Huan also got out, shaking himself to the bones and blood. Now, if anything may shake the cage of Celegorm, this was.
- You are likening myself to the human King? Are you out of your mind? Do you even know with whom you are…- he caught himself, and there it was, the self-admiring image. His self-serving purport. The mindless and thoughtless. And Jon re-appeared, he was his phantom who was looking through him, the mirror he could see, and all what he was beholding, was the man behind Jon’s eyes, Ned Stark. Celegorm snarled so viciously, that even the sand trembled, and Huan was dried on spot. – He is my son! He is my blood! He is Elf! He is MINE! And one single human shall never have him, shall never claim him, I have nothing to prove or to attest. I laid my claim, I…- he should have seen the lines of his people, how both Jon and him, were locked in their parental hug, both hands on each other’s napes of the neck, with their foreheads touching the gap between them. – You are blind and clouded. To Jon, Ned was the Ideal, but you are the Father. You idiot. Now we know after whom, Jon Snow, took his very image – it was God that spoke, and Celegorm was on his knees, looking so lost. Huan was wisely soundless, upholding and nurturing his Elf.
It was as it is incised in the times of the trickling sand, avatar was Jon as it was Ned for Glor.
Through them, they could watch how the lined up people of their kin and the kin that will come after and those before, were living their lives by following in the footsteps of those who didn’t have any reservations of what was their duty.
Celegorm’s wasn’t the one where he serves as the paragon for his son, but to be the one who will be by his side when the greatest of all Genesis’s Deluges ever come again and again.
Jon doesn’t need a hero or a champion, he needs his DAD.
- Forgive me, your Grace – he knelt, this time, orderly and solemnly, grandly prospected, as it is lordliness of the God itself, pardoning himself, he was dismally dumbstruck.
And Huan feels so proud, so well-pleased, so there with him, for his Celegorm, his little boy who grew up to be the man he was this day, the man who stands on his own two feet, and who learned to ask for forgiveness, has unearthed the travails of all his pangs and throes which were cramping him perpetually, the unending apprehension, and it was reprehensible in its falsehood, no, this is what was bothering them both. If Celegorm has continued as he did now, if he proceeded with his ill intents, nothing shall be ended, and it shall never be finishing in the mercifulness, this is what God has cut in its roots, never to enroot, ever again, since those were the pains of the silent death, of the slow and soft fading, Jon was worried, and he knows now why, he articulated it, Celegorm didn’t listen anyone, finally, the father could may notice all the colors in the breath, for he was the one who fathered him, and that is something that no one can ever take away from him. He never gave him away. Couldn’t find even his dreams or the sleep, there was no trance or reverie, and look at him, at present. That was important, the humbleness he is expressing to a being, whom he would never deign a glare. This was the man he does remember. The one that hunts with the respectfulness toward the hunted, even when it was the darkest for the human kind. Finding his faith in the sands of the unsaid words.
- You are forgiven, and Godspeed, the Great Hunters of Woods!
He dressed new gifts after he wiped and dried. His soul is chorusing, so light, chanting, there are intoning intonations, he could breathe. He went so far, far from everything he could behold, and he was espying right now. He could recognize where the dolefulness has begun to take root, and where it was aborted. He was a free man. He could walk away, never to look back. Upon his Huan, they were feeling the alleviated emotions which were gnawing at his individuality, and even making his Wolf miserable, that is something that will never happen, and while the Sun was heading for a slumber, they are returning back, across the zoned girdles, through girdled spaces of the sashed areas that were the belts and the stretches of the bottomless pits, wherein the dunes were having their half-life, for once they were back to how they looked. It chanced, and it was bestowed. Conferred to the bottom of their heart’s content, they were riding toward Suns.
*
- Does it look like that there is the second sun? – The second coming? It cannot be. Two Suns? There is only Moon and a large number of stars, but only one Sun. – It seems, we grew the two!
Vitaminized and mineralized those who are caught…