Essence of Twilight[PRS]通过
Essence of Twilight[FTR]A以上通过
Her first impression was that she'd awakened to a cloud of glass butterflies. "How pleasant," she thought, "that these figures can move as well. Where are the strings?" She sat onto her knees, fixed her dress, and found out that there were no strings, and these were not butterflies. Glass shards, flying on their own. "Delightful!" she felt, and so she said it. The glass reflected another world than the one in white surrounding her. In it she could see reflections of seas, cities, fires, lights; she rose her hand to scatter them, and laughed in joy. She didn't know these pieces of glass had a name; Arcaea. To tell the truth, they were so beautiful that it didn't matter the name. She entertained herself by touching them, swirling them, watching them. That was enough, no? There were siz questions to ask; who, what, where, when, why, and how. Of these questions, she asked none and desired no answers, content instead to bask in the glow of Arcaea. This was her meeting a new world.
But questions come inevitably. The girl stands amidst the spiral of glass and wonders, "But really, what are these?" Portals? Windows? Memories? This last answer, "memories", strikes a chord with her. "They're memories," she says, faintly. And like that, her questions stop. For some reason, this is a place all full of memories. Whose memories, or of what, she can't tell for certain, but her questioning has already ended. For some reason the glass follows her. She can't hold any of it, but it comes to her nonetheless. On a whim, she decides she will begin gathering it. Piece by piece. For no reason at all.
Without a clock, she has no sense for how many days or hours she has walked, but there is a new certainty in her head... There is beauty in a memory, that's what she finds herself believing. Thinking about it, a memory is never certain, can change with the times, and yet is the nearest thing to a concrete piece of the past. It can be bitter or sweet, and she thinks in either case they're quite enchanting. For now she will see what memories she can, of these other places and people, and appreciate them for their beauty. In the first place, these Arcaea flicker and glow splendidly in this strange and ruined world. It's easy to fancy it all, and that they show memories makes it easier. Humming, hands aloft, and stepping down broken paths, she brings what seems to be memories fit for an entire world with her, following behind in a shining stream. Memories of an ugly, pretty world... "How nice..." She sighs, she smiles, and serenity becomes her, it seems, too well. But there’s nothing to worry about. A pleasant, simple world like this need only be pleasant. Nothing more.