Crystal Shade Episodes 01

breath so I could touch it, and green grass stroked my feet in the endless rich meadows of Andrenia. But none of them was good enough for old Nervaschanzo. None of them was my perfect moment. Sad and disappointed, I returned home. But I was blind, I realized.” He looked up again for a moment to face his unseen guardian soul. After a thankful nod, he looked back at Grace.
    “The journey was a lesson to old, foolish Nervaschanzo as the perfect moment was never gone, but waited for me. The sunrise, which was clear as the soul of the Sacred Mother looked back through my window, from above the great gulf of my home, Sessa Asria.” Grace listened with great excitement while Nervaschanzo continued. “Always remember, young Graciana; never look for the moment, as the moment always finds you.”
    The little girl applauded and the old poet respectfully nodded.
    “When you tell this story to your loved ones, please tell them you’ve met with the great storyteller and poet, the old Nervaschanzo, the one who has finally found his crystal sunset.”
    The old poet leaned closer to her.
    “Time is always short for brilliant artistic souls like you and me, young Graciana. The right moment never awaits, but finds us.” He spread his hands and continued. “Just look around. Moments look back all over, calling you to experience, to learn and then to later share it with others through your arts and words. And when you come to Sessa Asria someday, maybe you’ll share your own story, your perfect moment with the old, but Great Nervaschanzo.”
    The young girl nodded at the kind old man. “I will,” she said kindly.
    “Now go and let your moment find you, young Graciana.”
    Grace admitted old Nervaschanzo was right. His story will be the greatest present she could give to her father who always loved to hear the experiences and adventures of others. Everyone on Eecrys Aredia, human and Aserian alike believed in the power of words, the shared experience and knowledge. And Grace had the talent to tell a story the same way to not lose any details or inflection from its true value. All stories and all experiences had value that served to expand the knowledge of anyone who desired to learn them. Shared knowledge and experience was one of the basic and most valuable elements of all the cultures. Without knowledge, there was no harvest, fishing, and quite simply no knowledge about their surroundings.
    As she left old Nervaschanzo behind, Sachylia had already left its zenith. Under the afternoon sunlight, the young girl watched the dancers from different cultures. Grace was awed by the veil dancers of the mystical Hijaz province watching their elegantly manipulated veils move like silky water in a soft wind. They danced and shook their hips to the rhythm of the exotic music. After they finished their performance, one of the dancers, graceful and beautiful, Jameela offered to share her knowledge to any who volunteered. And Grace did; she spent most of her afternoon learning to move like the mystical dancers of Hijaz.
    After the veil dance ended, Grace discovered a street, which was full of displayed fruit and foods that were grown and made in different provinces. Most of them, especially the tradition dishes of Andrenia, Atlantia, Yaana and Hijaz provinces had different tastes and used different spices and preparations than the foods of Odess’iana and Sagatta. Andrenia and Hijaz were famous for their spicy food, exotic fruit and grape drinks, while Atlantia and Yaana proudly displayed their delicious, sometimes strange fish, savoury recipes and produce. Odess’iana and its sister province Seriana delighted with their famous foods and sweet drinks. All twelve cultures were different, but the Great Deciduous Feast of Odess’iana brought the cuisine of all cultures to one place, this long street.
    From under the shadow of a tarp strange fruit that looked juicy and appetizing called to her, fruit she had never seen before. The air around them was cold, frozen, and visible as if the fruit could breathe; just as Nervaschanzo described the freezing cold of Crystana Serentis. The fruits were stored in large pots full of ice and mush of snow covered their soft husk.
    “This ice fruit grows only in the far northern icy province of Crystana,” the trader’s deep voice boomed from behind the pots. “It’s cold as the name says, but it’s delicious and sweet as the aya nectar.” His hand, pale as the snow of Slumberous, picked up a bowl