Crystal Shade Episodes 01

her guardian duty to listen and learn. She was also sure that her mother was going to treasure a necklace that was more than it appears to be; a necklace with its own unique story.
    “Tiny brothers and sisters were born and grow in a beautifully double-sided formed shell deep under water. We call it, Mama Yuraqilla,” the woman explained. “The waves passed above Yuraqilla silently, while the pearls inside her became larger and more beautiful; she cared for all deeply. Then a young Eecryssan, Yaku, the masters of the deep water, he, who holds his breath longer than anyone, dove deeper and deeper in the cold waves. He asked Mama Yuraqilla to give him the pearls, to present them to the surface and share their beauty with others. And Yuraqilla gave their children to him, sent them to see the surface world. The woman in Yaku’s village didn’t want to separate the tiny white brothers and sisters, they were together, were twin souls since their birth. So they strung them together onto this necklace to be together for eternity.”
    Grace caressed the tiny pearls. She felt the love what grew and nurtured them.
    “This is the story of their past,” the trader continued. “From now on, their story, their life, their future is shared with yours or the one who will wear it. Always remember. Brothers and sisters always hold together, just like the daughters and sons of Yuraqilla.”
    After she said farewell to the Eecryssan woman, Grace continued her mission to learn more and to find something for her father and little Aurora, too.
    “So many beautiful goods. So many,” she whispered while her eyes mirrored the arven sketches, flower dyes, and paintings, tiny stone statues and little hand crafted wooden models of Ansharas and other flying craft. She shook her head, as she couldn’t decide. “What should I bring you, father? What would you like the most?”
    A shadow blocked the sun. It belonged to a venerable old man. The wind blew his long flowing hair and long, thick gray beard. His large and black eyes and an aquiline nose stared at Grace.
    “I’m the Great Master Nervaschanzo Seranzini, the storyteller, poet, painter, sculptor, architect, artist and inventor, a true polymath of Sessa Asria. Who are you, young wanderer?” his voice rumbled quietly.
    “Grace Sessa Aredia, the youngest artist from the endless meadows of the great valley of Seradelphia.”
    “Ah, a fellow soul who sees the world as no one else can see. I already believe you won’t find the right gift here that you’re looking for, young Graciana. Come. Come, sit and listen,” he invited her kindly and Grace sat down on the small wooden stool, which faced the chair that the Great Master sat in. “Artists share their vision, gift it to the people. But between each other we, artists are sharing stories that we then can pass and can pass on and give inspiration. So, you’ll hear the story that no one else has heard from the Great Master Nervaschanzo; the story of the crystal sunset.”
    The old art master coughed once before starting.
    “The Divine Nervaschanzo. That’s all I hear when people see my art and read the echo of my soul! Even the Great God statues of the Oval Hall of Sagatta are shy and desire the touch of this great sculptor! But how can I be divine without inspiration; an artist without a vision?” his old voice rumbled, and then he reverted to a gentler tone.
    “One day a morning was half gone already, young Graciana and I still couldn’t find the inspiration. I’ve seen days and nights as Sachylia and Carenia Seli chased each other across the sky, but the right moment didn’t touch me. When one’s imagination cannot provide an answer; you seek a greater imagination. But even my guardian, my own Watcher,” he looked up to an imaginary face and with a pretend fury, he pointed to the air as his voice thundered once again. “Yes, you Carenian who is brilliant like me and hiding in your safe realm, you, my twin soul has stayed silent!” Nervaschanzo smiled as he looked back at Grace who enjoyed his storytelling.
    “So I left my land to find my moment,” the old polymath continued. “A flock of tweeting and soaring birds watched over me from the great trees and the vast skies of Coreenthia. The crystal-clear waters of the Hijazian oases eased my thirst under the shadows of the arecaceae trees and pink petals of the Yaanan sakuras danced around me in the gentle breeze. The squeezing cold of Crystana Serentis froze my