How can you all stand this?
You live in this eternal place of cold, frigid air and blustering snow, never allowed to even mention the other seasons for fear of… of what? Finding the elation that comes with running down a sunlit hill in the middle of summer, or the happiness when a dear little plant that you nurtured through the winter has finally begun to bud after the first spring rain. The crackle of leaves underfoot as you gather firewood for the oncoming, but not eternal, winter.
At first when I woke, I thought that everyone was joking when they said we were in an eternal winter. Then, once I realized that they were not in fact joking, I thought that perhaps I was dreaming, or that I had gone mad. But once I realized that I truly was here, in this frozen castle, I was not imagining it, I began to wonder. Why were we brought to such a secluded place, so far from the joys of the rest of the world? A place without seasons, and without the pure sun to bathe us in it’s light?
That massive, imposing gate has not opened in so long, it looks almost rusted into place. So few have ventured outside the castle, so few can even remember life before. Are we prisoners in our own home, not allowed to leave if we wish? We have our benevolent Queen, but is it really her truest wish for these people that live in her care to stay trapped forever in a castle that never changes? In a castle that yes, is our home, but also confines us. Keeps us from seeing what is outside. Keeps us from the joys of spring and the hot summer, and the crisp breezes and fresh apples of the autumn.
Those who do remember life before here, and I am sure there are those that do, I cannot be the only one, they willingly forget. They forget all of the emotions that each season brings, trying to compress them into the coldest season of all, for fear of not speaking their hearts, not speaking of the times they remember so dearly. Out of fear for who only knows what reason, they are frightened, and refuse to acknowledge the beautiful things that are their memories and loves from before. Those memories of walks in a spring forest, flowers swaying in the wind, or the crisp cracking as the fields are harvested later in the year.
The seasons are a well-balanced cycle. One cannot have the large harvest of the fall without the early rains of the spring and the crackling heat of summer, and thusly, during the time of regeneration, we regather and freeze the earth in a state of calm before beginning anew as the ground below us begins to thaw. To try and live with only one of these four, it is an imbalance, a kind of one-sidedness that will hurt us more than we like to admit. There must be balance in the world, else things will begin to fail.
And yes, magic is all around us, that is how we live. Or so I have been told on many occasions, by many different people. We find these reasons to give thanks for being trapped in this hellish world, living in a secluded bubble, forced to find joy in things, to fill our days with repetitive actions to distract ourselves from what is right before us. We try to find thanks for being stuck in a world of eternal, frigid winter, where we are slaves to a Queen who has stolen our souls and minds and brought them and trapped them within the stone walls of the keep.
We are slaves to this Queen and her Consort, mere playthings within their castle, something to amuse to these immortal rulers. We should rise up, and take our freedom.
~Sunniva Larsdatter
*the parchment that this post was written on seems to be slightly tear-stained*
You live in this eternal place of cold, frigid air and blustering snow, never allowed to even mention the other seasons for fear of… of what? Finding the elation that comes with running down a sunlit hill in the middle of summer, or the happiness when a dear little plant that you nurtured through the winter has finally begun to bud after the first spring rain. The crackle of leaves underfoot as you gather firewood for the oncoming, but not eternal, winter.
At first when I woke, I thought that everyone was joking when they said we were in an eternal winter. Then, once I realized that they were not in fact joking, I thought that perhaps I was dreaming, or that I had gone mad. But once I realized that I truly was here, in this frozen castle, I was not imagining it, I began to wonder. Why were we brought to such a secluded place, so far from the joys of the rest of the world? A place without seasons, and without the pure sun to bathe us in it’s light?
That massive, imposing gate has not opened in so long, it looks almost rusted into place. So few have ventured outside the castle, so few can even remember life before. Are we prisoners in our own home, not allowed to leave if we wish? We have our benevolent Queen, but is it really her truest wish for these people that live in her care to stay trapped forever in a castle that never changes? In a castle that yes, is our home, but also confines us. Keeps us from seeing what is outside. Keeps us from the joys of spring and the hot summer, and the crisp breezes and fresh apples of the autumn.
Those who do remember life before here, and I am sure there are those that do, I cannot be the only one, they willingly forget. They forget all of the emotions that each season brings, trying to compress them into the coldest season of all, for fear of not speaking their hearts, not speaking of the times they remember so dearly. Out of fear for who only knows what reason, they are frightened, and refuse to acknowledge the beautiful things that are their memories and loves from before. Those memories of walks in a spring forest, flowers swaying in the wind, or the crisp cracking as the fields are harvested later in the year.
The seasons are a well-balanced cycle. One cannot have the large harvest of the fall without the early rains of the spring and the crackling heat of summer, and thusly, during the time of regeneration, we regather and freeze the earth in a state of calm before beginning anew as the ground below us begins to thaw. To try and live with only one of these four, it is an imbalance, a kind of one-sidedness that will hurt us more than we like to admit. There must be balance in the world, else things will begin to fail.
And yes, magic is all around us, that is how we live. Or so I have been told on many occasions, by many different people. We find these reasons to give thanks for being trapped in this hellish world, living in a secluded bubble, forced to find joy in things, to fill our days with repetitive actions to distract ourselves from what is right before us. We try to find thanks for being stuck in a world of eternal, frigid winter, where we are slaves to a Queen who has stolen our souls and minds and brought them and trapped them within the stone walls of the keep.
We are slaves to this Queen and her Consort, mere playthings within their castle, something to amuse to these immortal rulers. We should rise up, and take our freedom.
~Sunniva Larsdatter
*the parchment that this post was written on seems to be slightly tear-stained*
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