As they walked, the sound of the waves grew louder, providing a rhythmic and soothing backdrop to their journey. The Gardener maintained a steady pace, his eyes observing the natural beauty around them with a sense of reverence. Along the almost invisible trail that led from the town to the dense forest, groups of sheep rested on the plains, enjoying the sun's warmth on their wooly bodies and nibbling on various vegetables left for them by the townspeople.
The dense canopy of the forest filtered the sunlight into a soft, dappled pattern that danced upon the ground. As they strolled through the forest, the air was filled with a melodious song, humming in their heads. Perched among the lush canopy, the birds seemed to inhabit a world of their own, their melodies weaving a symphony that resonated with the soul. Each note seemed to shimmer in the air, carrying with it the magic of the land.
"Auravoxes," the Gardener remarked, looking up at the trees with a smile of appreciation. The birds' plumage, a soft, almost white blue, accented with delicate hues of blue and red. Some said that their melodies could reveal secrets lost.
As they reached Draven's hand-built home, the songs of the auravoxes seemed to follow, their melodies gently ebbing and flowing like the waves of the sea that lay before them. Draven found himself momentarily lost in the echoes of their songs, a rare feeling of peace settling in his heart. Perhaps, in these melodies, there really were hidden messages.
Draven's house stood out from the others they had seen before. Unlike the standardized dwellings crafted effortlessly by the Spires, his home was a testament to manual labor and traditional building methods. It was a rarity in Halcyonia, where most relied solely on the Spires' capabilities to morph matter from wishes. With its wooden walls and handcrafted features, Draven's house seemed like a relic from a different world.
The Gardener observed this with a knowing eye as they approached Draven's home. "Your house is quite different from the others," he commented, his voice tinged with curiosity. "It speaks of a man who made it, of his own reality."
Draven nodded with a hint of pride evident in his voice. "I built it myself, piece by piece. There's something about shaping your own shelter, your own world, that the Spires and their magic can't provide."
Inside, the house was cool and dim compared to the bright world outside. Draven gestured towards chairs positioned by a large window overlooking the ocean, its surface glittering under the sun's rays. The interior bore the unmistakable marks of personal craftsmanship. Every piece of furniture, every fixture, was handmade—a testament to Draven's dedication or perhaps stubborness in a world where most things were just a wish away.
The Gardener settled into a chair, his gaze momentarily lost in the vastness of the ocean. "It's a beautiful view you have here, Draven. The sea hides so much."
Draven took the opposite chair, his posture relaxed yet attentive. "So, what is it you think you can help me with? What makes you think you can say anything relevant enough for me?"
As they settled into the conversation by the window overlooking the sea, the Gardener's gaze lingered on the horizon, then back at Draven. "In a land where desires are easily manifested, your choice to embrace the rawness of life, to build and toil, it's quite remarkable. It tells me you're searching for something beyond the surface, beyond the easy answers. That something in this life doesn't click with you."
Draven, gazing out at the sea, felt a resonance with the Gardener's words. His house, much like his journey, was about finding his own path, carving out a space in a world that often felt too ethereal, too distant from the gritty reality he sensed lingering at the edges of his consciousness.
Draven finally gathered the courage to ask, "Why don't I click, according to you?"
The Gardener prepared to explain, taking a moment to gather his thoughts before finally speaking. "You can't handle all of the truth, at least not yet. There's a fog clouding your minds. It may be a bit thinner for you than for others, but forcing through it would only cause you more harm."
YOU ARE READING
Godless Souls
Ciencia FicciónDraven woke up in paradise, along with the rest of humanity, there, they were supposed to live and die peacefully, until a stranger comes into Draven's life, claiming to have truths beyond.
