Gan has a secret. He has an imaginary friend… Sort of. A rather unique friend.

But he’s not sure what they are.

They are not a lost, wandering Drauma, souls of the deceased. They are not a malicious creature like the Speglun. They are not even a figment of his own imagination nor has he lost his mind. At least, he’s sure of that.

He has done countless research at the library, at the Cathedral, the temples of other gods, and has asked his mentors and the priests. Even within himself when he sleeps, he meditates and searches the cosmos with his magic. All his sources have given him different answers, but none of them fit this friend whom he speaks to on a yearly basis.

Since young, he has had this friend reach out to him. His first memory of them had been quite strange. He remembers that he was playing by a pond at the orphanage and observing Drauflies. Always been the quiet one, the odd one out, the child no one could understand. So it was the norm for him to be by himself, staring at whatever caught his fascination. So when one of these Drauflies glowed the brightest blue as compared to the normal soft glow of a usual Draufly and called out to him in a strange voice, Gan was stunned. He did not know if there were animals which can converse in Menntala, the universal speech of Menn, but from what he’s learned and been taught, there were no such things.

It had scared him at first, and Gan remembers wanting to step back but felt his body was frozen. However, the voice was friendly even though it sounded odd, and it still took on the appearance of a normal Draufly no bigger than the length of his finger, despite its bright illumination. There was something about it that gave him a sense of familiarity as well. It was like he knew them, or seen them before. Gan relaxed eventually, and the Draufly came to rest upon a lilypad in front of him and they continued to speak.

Since then, this strange friend has appeared before him in a variety of ways. He notices that it has to be at night when the moon is full and there should be a body of water where Drauflies dwell. From then on, Gan knows when to anticipate the visits.

It’s almost time for one such visit. It had been a year since the last, and the current night boasts a full moon with clear skies, barely a cloud in sight. The moon is large and it hovers right over the the lake like an eye in the cast night sky. Drauflies begin to illuminate the shore, the warm soft glow of their light giving off the feel of quiet calmness. The landscape is beautiful and breathtaking. Across the lake from where Gan stands, Mount Jotunnag towers over the nameless jungles of the Navnlos island ring. The reflection on the moon is flat, the surface of the water tranquil.

Everything slows to a standstill as silence envelops the surroundings. Gan can hear his own breathing. He feels like he’s placed in a vacuum, floating in nothingness. A normal person would be terrified of such silence and stillness, but Gan has encountered this numerous times since young. He’s not afraid.

Gan steps forward to the edge of the water. It splashes softly against his bare feet, but the sound is muffled. The water is cold yet welcoming. The surrounding Drauflies hover within their spot, the light of their glowing bodies flickering gently whilst their quadruplet wings flutter without a sound. Gan faces the lake in anticipation, eyes trained on the lunar reflection.

The reflection begins to glow brighter. Slowly, the surface of the water builds. At the same time, it appears as if the moon is dripping. A white mass of light and the reflection of the moon on the water reach towards each other before they break off from their source, creating a single round mass of light. The mass of light is corporeal yet not, like a dense cloud. Its shape shifts and varies, sometimes vaguely taking the shape of a figure.

This is his Friend.

His Friend approaches him, slow and languid, gliding over the surface of the lake. Gan waits patiently. He hears their voice greet him, sounding neither male or female, and sometimes of both, of one voice and of many different voices melded together. It feels familiar and comforting, and he’s realized that they speak within his mind, not to his ears.

Gan has never been able to place the strange tongue his Friend speaks in. It sounds utterly otherworldly, and having tried to mimic them, he finds that he’s unable to, as if Menn’s physical body is incapable of creating such sounds. He wonders how he’s able to understand their speech.

“My friend,” the mass of light says. “It has been a while.”

Friend, they call him. But Gan doesn’t know this being and has never recognised them as anyone he knows throughout the years.

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Gan wishes he is able to reply, but he is unable to speak, whether out of the language barrier or the incapability of his body to even move within this state, he is unsure. He can only smile in response, and he thinks his Friend smiles back at him understandingly.

His Friend talks, while Gan listens and he doesn’t mind it at all. Instead, he finds it very nostalgic and calming. In every visit, both of them do the same thing. His Friend regales him with fantastical stories of colourful characters, of wild beasts and terrifying creatures reeking of hatred and treachery. But never once did they state a name for each of the characters, yet Gan feels like he can identify each one. He knows there is a titan, and from the titan there are others that were borne from it. Two wolves and the titan’s children.

Gan’s fingers itch to write, as if wanting to record the words his Friend speaks, but he can barely move within this period of time. And so he listens and commits them to memory, hoping to write them down later. As he listens, he imagines the stories, staring at the star filled skies, picturing the characters dancing amongst the stars. Each twinkle of a star as if the clash of steel during their battles, a shooting meteor a swift strike from a character onto another, or the milky way as a gathering of all the characters for a feast.

Gan smiles at the sky. The stories feel so close yet so far away. Has he heard these stories before? Or even seen them with his own eyes? His orange eyes gaze deeper into the cosmos, his breathing slow and steady. It feels like he’s being whisked away by the narration, almost like in a trance. Eventually he closes his eyes before blinking them open and turns to his Friend who appears to be observing him.

Gan wishes he can ask them directly. Who are you? Are all these stories your memories? A forgotten past?

His Friend appears to smile knowingly despite the lack of features. They approach closer, until almost all of Gan’s vision is full of white light. With his Friend this close, the feeling Gan gets from its presence is overwhelming, so much so that he almost can’t breathe. His eyes sting, as if the sight of the light is burning them, unable to hold their visage.

In the back of his head, he remembers having read about this. That the eyes of mortals cannot withstand the visage of gods as they are too powerful. In the past, the first of Menn, the Vanir, had once been able to serve directly under the gods as they were their direct creation, but as time trickled by, the connection weakened, and Menn is left with just a thread of connection. Even then, from what was learned from their ruins, the Vanir could only just glance at the gods as well, unable to keep their eyes on them for too long.

But that was in the past. Now, Menn are believed to have been left by the gods, their ability to stand with their creators and contain their presences almost completely disappeared. Gan already has his eyes shut, blinking away tears of mild agony from the burning light. A ridiculous thought comes across his mind.

Can it be…? That’s ludicrous, he chides himself.

Gan has never been a believer. In Isfridr, while they are a republican and secular state, the citizens are still mostly faithful. The city-state balances between the secular and the religious, with the entire island separated into different sectors: Craft, Creed, Crest and Circle. Crest and Creed Sectors hold the primary god of the island in high regard, with The Cathedral of Mana has thousands of devotees flocking to it for prayers of wealth, fortune or safety. There are also temples for the other gods, so there is no shortage of faith and religion in his childhood. His best friend Blaer worships Nott, the god of Night, Darkness and Passion, which reflects in his love for poetry and music. But Gan himself finds that he doesn’t feel any connection with them. Perhaps, having been exposed the most to Isfridr’s primary god, or it’s merely that he has affinity with what this god represents, but if Gan were a believer, he would follow Mani, the Lord of the Moon, Sea and Secret Knowledge.

His Friend makes a sound much like a chuckle, and for some reason Gan feels embarrassed. He knows his Friend has read his mind, but they make no response or acknowledgment to it, much to his disappointment.

The night continues despite the standstill, but his Friend’s visit has always been brief. The glow of the Drauflies dims and Gan knows it’s time for them to part. The creature of light begins to glide away back towards the lake, but it stops short and seemingly turns back to Gan.

In that moment, the light takes up a slightly more solidified shape, and Gan thinks he sees a pair of long legs stepping over the water surface as it approaches him once more. Closer, and closer, until it is almost touching its nose. Gently, a wisp of cloudy light reaches out and brushes over his cheek. It was momentary but Gan felt that it was cool and comfortable.

His Friend moves away as they bid goodbye once more with another smile. They speak one last time.

“Goodbye, Mimir.”

The light fades and dissipates. The Drauflies dim and disappear.

Gan feels the night move again breeze brush across his skin again and hears the rustling of the leaves. Gan lets out a wistful exhale. Although he can move again, he doesn’t step away from his spot. He stares at the moon in deep thought, his mind working from the words his Friend had left him with.

That… that was a name… Gan mouths the word, realizing how it rolls off his tongue easily and with familiarity. He knows that name, but from where? And what is the reason for his Friend to present him with that name now?

He wishes his Friend’s visits are longer. Even if he can’t move during their visits, maybe eventually they will tell him everything, but each time their visits are short, as if on a limit. It feels like Time is never their ally.