Lady Surreal wrote:Under the warm sunlit morning, free of Naron’s claustrophobia, my skin has hued a golden accent and the winds have swept me through lands that are but on the fringes of maps. The sun, enlightening me with its company, has also melted the frigid, rigid ways of the Empire and Naron. Nonetheless, I still wear my leather Captain’s cap, once a symbol of my new position in the Empire, but now adorned to show that I am a Captain of a different sort. A Captain of the seas, I risk all my tangibles and trial my intangibles to places exotic and foreign. Each new town is an entry into the Hobbes Encyclopedia, and each change of the coastline is a different stroke for my map of the Mainland. The colors of what I see begin to roll onto the page, my ability and my will growing with each sun soaked day on the waves. I dare the bluffs of the mountain of knowledge, tracking it hard, climbing it higher than any before me. The more sun, the more presence of light, the more I see, and thereby, the closer I am to that ambitious place on its peak. From that threshold, however, light shunned dim on the one human ailment that I underestimated in my last entry, the effect of loneliness.
Wild was my mind but lonely was my heart. It cried with the gulls in the afternoon shadow, those that waited along the balustrade, for what they desired. I would throw crumbs at them, like the ports of call would to me, by allowing me to glimpse but never stay. It felt like reading a page of a book and never finding out the storyline that came before, let alone the climax that was sure to follow. Yet if I remained, I could not indulge myself in what there was to come, and what I could perchance miss by staying. Therefore, my ports of call were limited to several days of accumulating as much information and stocking as many supplies as quickly as possible to sustain my gluttonous appetite for the sea. Like the seabirds migrating to the next ship’s draft, I would also move on into the wild blue yonder.
In one port of call though, a young lady happened on me before I could take off once again. My stories managed to enthrall her, enrapturing her starry eyes. I felt them feeding on what I said and she served it back to my wandering imagination, allowing the two of us to gorge on each other’s visions. It was sinful how our thoughts, crazy creative ideas of society and civilization, would just lilt off in sky blue desires and never be captured for the world at large. These ideas though, as we thought them, were probably too big and grand for this world to handle…or were they? It may be my old Imperial backwardness that asks that, but to have had someone listening in on me and responding, was everything. She could be single-handedly held responsible for changing my course towards an entirely new landmass, further away from my homeport of Naron. She was cultivating my dreams; I was writing her history. . . .
This marks the closure of one of the greatest cantr accounts (of 1,080 days) ever created, or so I feel. But it would have been nothing without those who I played with, as is often the case in life. (Some of you impacted me more than others, you know who you are.) Thank you so very much for the opportunity, all of you.
I wouldn't want to go out on any lower of a note, so no, I will not be creating another account. It is finished.
Nitefyre, Cantr isn't the same without you!!!
