[P] Man sieht nur das, was man weiß [Eik]

[Turhan]

“ bone to rune ”

In shamanism, the belief that there is no death is a concept grounded in the belief of the soul existing in a never-ending process of regeneration. Our soul remembers our ancient past, engages with our current environment, and knows our future lives. We live forever and our soul is immortal.


Our existence, however, is marked by numerous transitions—both between our many lives and sometimes even within the frame of what we view as the current physical life. Emotionally and spiritually, one of our most dramatic transitions involves the leaving of this physical vessel that we currently occupy and the passing to the next realm of our eternal existence.  

-- some dead guy


Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known.


Many nights caught up to his restless mornings, and it left Turhan wondering if he would ever sleep again.  His dreams were more like disturbances, they exhausted him, yet strangely his insomnia brought with it an energy he hadn't had since he was twelve.  Call it anxiety or call it mania, but the Elder found the strength to wander out into the night alone and away from Tinea. 


Hours led him away from all that he knew - if he could regret anything at all - it would be the fact that he never got to see Terminus when he had his eyes.  Until now, he had only ever been to the edge of the world once before, where solid rock met a great and vast purlieu of sea.  He had never been past it - seen past it - and knew that for all his wisdom, he was still just a hollow bone.  He did not know what lay past the water - yet he claimed to hear the wisdom of the gods.


The blind mystic did not need to see the stars to feel them vibrating with their vibrant energy, nor did he need sight to know the moon was a waxing crescent which hung massive, fat, and orange against a clouded sky.  The black of night had a certain heaviness to it from how clammy his sky felt.  The dew point must have been close to being reached from the moisture in the air, he deduced that the sun might have set six or so hours ago and morning was as near enough.  The vitality of crickets chirping died away in the serpent grass.  Somewhere far away an owl was screeching for whatever reasons Turhan could not discern.  His hearing was keen but not immaculate.


All of his aimless wandering lead him down to the immediate beach where he waded knee deep into the salty sea and stood there, but before he had done such a thing - he dropped his mask in the sand far behind him.   This is where he lost hours of his time, and memory, these absent-minded wanderings.  However long it was it was long enough, the tide had gone back out to the sea and left his feet covered in seaweed.  He had been standing in the water for quite some time because it felt right at the time.  Water meant purity - and these days the Elder felt like his soul was under attack.  By who?  He wasn't sure who could answer that, not even he had the answers. 


And so, he looked to the sea.


But saw nothing.

T U R H A N
skull to dust

@Eik This was sadder than I wanted it to be!  I promise it'll pick up!