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The Empty Mirror
Chapter 15: Breath of insanity

Chapter 15: Breath of insanity

The Empty Mirror

Chapter 15: Breath of insanity

In every corner, unparalleled meticulousness was evident, an obsessive dedication bordering on the divine. Each detail was attended to with reverence, and every stroke and contour was perfected with absolute mastery of the craft, as if my hands were instruments guided by a celestial muse. The result was a vessel that emanated archetypal beauty, a receptacle infused with the very essence of the sublime, a physical manifestation of deep dreams.

Perfection extended beyond the exterior. The lid, an equally sublime piece, was conceived to fit with millimetric precision, bestowing a hermetic seal on the vessel that only the most discerning could appreciate. Every union was a sacred marriage between form and function, a perfect symbiosis that sealed the fate of this mystical creation, destined to transcend the limits of human perception.

Immersed in the fiery vortex of my art, time, an ephemeral human concept, faded into the nebula of creation. I lost track of hours, though I estimate that at least one, if not more, slipped through my skilled fingers without my consciousness, wrapped in creative frenzy, perceiving its passage.

In the creative ecstasy, where inspiration and darkness danced in an enigmatic embrace, I decided, in addition to the main vessel, to shape an additional figure. A pointed sculpture of irregular appearance, with a latent vibration foretelling hidden and mysterious purpose in times to come. The sharp and twisted contour seemed to whisper a distant echo of ancient truth, destined to reveal itself when stars aligned and the veil of time unfolded.

Upon completing my work, a profound sense of satisfaction flooded my being, as if the Castalian Springs themselves, in their divine splendor, had poured their grace upon me. Consciously, I knew that one final step remained, one that would demand patience and dedication. The clay figures had to undergo the sacred rite of drying, allowing each particle to absorb the essence of creation and reach its fullness of being, like a chrysalis transforming into a beautiful butterfly.

This was not a mere brief passage but more than two full days of waiting, a sacred time in which every clay particle, imbued with the breath of divinity, would become solid and transcendent. During this period of repose, where the external world faded into the background, I immersed myself in the contemplation of latent beauty and the mysteries hidden in the very heart of matter, thus unveiling the enigmas that existence whispers to those willing to listen.

Despite the temptation to once again invoke the enigmatic qualities of the forest that lingered in my restless mind, I restrained myself. I did not wish, in any way, to trivialize something so fascinating and mysterious. I had experienced the effects of such interventions before, as if a gentle sonata whispered ancient secrets in my ear. But now, with keen discernment, I understood the importance of exercising responsibility in my actions and allowing the process to follow its natural course, aligned with the cosmic designs that reveal themselves to those willing to listen and learn from the subtleties of the universe, in a sidereal dance of unfathomable mysteries.

In this way, I found myself immersed in a moment of suspended waiting, in intimate communion with the mystery enveloping my work. The clay, so docile and receptive, patiently awaited its drying process, while I, filled with anticipation and reverence, prepared to take the final step in this sacred creative ritual.

The vessel, with its unsettling and enigmatic aura, stood as a silent witness to the hidden ancestral and dark secrets concealed in every crevice of its majestic form. Every fold, every line, seemed to whisper a forgotten story, an echo of distant times that yearned to manifest itself through the material molded by my hands, like an ancient lament buried in the annals of time.

The laborious process in which I had immersed myself, in the dense tangle of creation, demanded considerable temporal expenditure. Meanwhile, the oppressive darkness of the forest loomed over me, heralding the imminent fall of night. The sunset, with its melancholic and ephemeral beauty, seemed to urge me to promptly return to the castle's domains, where safety and shelter awaited my return.

With meticulousness and caution, I carefully hid all my belongings amid the herbaceous abundance, ensuring their protection from potential harm caused by animal curiosity. My valuable clay creation, so fragile and delicate, needed to be safeguarded with special attention, just like the harvest of provisions obtained during my creative journey in this land full of mysteries and shadows that seemed to dance to the rhythm of the unknown.

With everything arranged in order, I embarked on the path back to the castle, following the trail that led northward. My footsteps resonated in the stillness of the forest, accompanied by the whisper of the wind among the ancient trees, as if they were voices unveiling their masks in unintelligible murmurs. The path, bathed in a dim and mysterious light, guided me back to my refuge, where I could calmly contemplate the fruit of my labor and immerse myself in the secure embrace of the starry night, which seemed to reveal hidden truths only to those willing to listen to the whispers of the stars.

During my pilgrimage, my mind was ensnared by insidious concerns, whose answers eluded my understanding with relentless cunning. Among them, the mystery of the sun's absence in its usual daytime position seemed unsettling, surpassing the limits of my rational comprehension, plunging me into an abyss of metaphysical uncertainty.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Throughout the day, I saw no signs of any living creature, heightening my unease and restlessness. The prevailing desolation enveloped me in an atmosphere of sidereal solitude, as if the vital essence of the place had dissipated into the shadows of oblivion, leaving behind an empty echo that resonated in the sepulchral silence.

Finally, I arrived at the majestic gates of the castle, hoping to be welcomed with open arms, in a meeting between the known and the unknown. I knocked repeatedly, seeking the echo of a welcome, but silence stood as the sole witness, with no soul emerging to satisfy my longing for companionship, plunging me even deeper into the abyss of loneliness and abandonment.

I remained there, motionless, as the nocturnal darkness embraced everything in its ominous and oppressive hug, as if the shadows themselves danced around me, challenging me to venture into the realm of the unknown. I patiently waited, resisting the temptation to burst into the castle as if it were my own domain, showing due respect to the mysteries that hid within, aware that the darkness harbored secrets not to be taken lightly.

Nevertheless, an irresistible unease seized me, and with gentleness, I pushed the door, which opened with surprising ease, evidence of its decay and abandonment. I crossed the threshold with some timidity, entering a scene that seemed to have petrified in time, unchanged since my last morning contemplation, as if the clock of reality had stopped in this place of shadows and enigmas.

With caution, I ventured into the bowels of the castle, but a chilling sensation ran down my spine, announcing the presence of something unspeakable lurking in the gloom, watchful of my arrival. It was as if the very structure of the place, imbued with ancient malevolence, came to life and greeted me with silent and ancestral hostility, revealing its twisted and disturbing nature.

With utmost care and precision, I arranged the clay objects strategically near the vast window of the ancestral castle, as if a hidden and ineffable choreography guided my movements. The room, immersed in oppressive darkness, seemed to harbor a malevolent presence in its shadowy corners, like a dark breath seeping through the cracks in the walls, instilling palpable fear in every atom of the environment.

Every movement, slow and cautious, needed to be executed with exquisite precision, as if disturbing the delicate harmony ruling that lugubrious chamber could unleash unimaginable consequences and reveal unfathomable secrets. Thus, with trembling yet determined hands, I placed the clay creations in their designated abodes, like offerings on a shadowy altar whose veiled meaning eluded my mortal understanding.

Upon completing my task, a mix of intrigue and apprehension filled me, my spirit eager to seek the mercy of the man and apologize for my abrupt intrusion into his sacred sanctuary. However, an irrational and arcane fear overcame me as I approached that ominous threshold, as if the very essence of the air became dense and oppressive under the influence of a dark and menacing presence, whispers of an immeasurable past.

My steps echoed on the stone staircases with an ominous reverberation, as if each sound awakened the ancient stillness of the place, reviving memories and fears buried in oblivion. My mind remained focused, fiercely defending my resolve to delve into the mystery hidden behind that door. I ascended with determination, reaching the second floor and approaching the threshold of the man's room, as if each step dragged me toward a vertex of reality where the laws of time and sanity seemed to fade away, leaving behind an abyss of unfathomable uncertainty.

The man, in his perpetual stillness, lay in the same pose as I found him that morning, as if the flow of time had been suspended in his presence. His figure, akin to a petrified statue, embodied an unanswered enigma, a fragment of existence torn from the very fabric of the universe and cast into the abyss of the unknown. The door, defiant in its colossal opening, stood as a threshold to a hidden and macabre world, inviting me with its unfathomable blackness to venture into forbidden domains, where reason and sanity succumb to the vastness of indescribable and encrypted terrors.

However, something had changed since our last encounter. A glimmer of bitterness reflected in his eyes, as if the very shadow of the castle had found an echo in the tortured depths of his soul.

With hesitant steps, I approached him and, with a trembling voice, addressed the man, struggling to articulate my words amidst a shiver coursing down my spine.

"Excuse me..." I stammered, feeling the fear seize my words, submerging them in the oppressive atmosphere that enveloped us.

"What's the matter?" His indifferent tone seemed to imply that the world and its conventions lacked any meaning for him.

My suspicions that he slept with open eyes faded in the face of his alert and serene presence. An uncontrollable shiver overcame me, but I gathered the necessary courage to continue.

With trembling hands, I extended the makeshift cloth bag containing the acorns towards him—a modest gesture imbued with twisted, almost grotesque symbolism.

"Grant me, with benevolence, to present you with these nuts... Though their value may seem meager, they represent all I managed to obtain at this moment," I uttered, feeling a slight blush of shame tinge my cheeks.

The enigmatic figure, hidden in the unfolding shadows of the room, replied without hesitation, emanating a mysterious presence from the depths of the darkness. His words reverberated in the air, wrapping the space in a veil of mystery and disturbance, as if they were cosmic whispers emerging from some unfathomable corner of the universe.

My perplexity at such an enigmatic response left me speechless, unsure of how to react, so I chose to silently withdraw my offering, aware that I had crossed the threshold into an alien and hermetic domain. After a brief moment of silence, I continued with my words, struggling to maintain a composed demeanor amid the confusion.

"I do not aspire to impose further discomfort upon you... I will immerse myself in the outskirts of the castle in search of fleeting relief. I beg you not to experience any perplexity," I stated with apparent calmness, though my voice barely whispered, as if fearing to disrupt the fragile balance enveloping that mysterious enclosure.

The individual responded in a monotonous tone, devoid of any glimmer of emotion or interest, as if my words were mere ephemeral particles dissipating into the sidereal wind. His indifference plunged me into an even greater perplexity, fueling the enigma shrouding his being in the shadows of the unknown.