Googbye Spring

This year I wanted to spend Spring away, traveling in search of a small spiritual retreat full of rest and memories to bring the peace that my soul needs. It’s not a retreat consumed by melancholy; it’s an escape I occasionally need to reconnect with my essence, that tranquility I cannot find in the city, a sense of happiness where nature grows without limits.

Here I open my diary with notes on the places I visited once again during the months of this Spring that will soon come to an end. 🍃

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🌿 | MARCH | Crioville — Calpheon

I always love returning to the Longleaf Tree Forest, that forest in the south of Calpheon nestled between the Kalis Mountains and the Kamasylvia Entrance, where I lived for a couple of decades. It’s a place full of tall pines and cedars that seem to reach the sky, great cyclopes, and red boars… I managed to see my old friend Thunder, the black wolf. It doesn’t show himself often, but I saw it was healthier than ever and full of energy.

And between the hunters of Behr and the loggers of Trent lies Crioville, a small Otters' village built on Lake Crio, from which it inherits its name. Despite how hostile they can be toward outsiders, given the many quarrels and bad experiences they've had with people, I earned their trust long ago. They recognized me when I showed up. A few wildflowers had managed to bloom, which I admired by the lakeshore while cuddling and caring for some pups left in my charge. They wouldn't let go of their precious shells for anything in the world, holding onto them like a valuable treasure!

🌸 | APRIL | Rumbling Land — Mediah

The Ganelle from the Kamasylve Temple invited me to a festival celebrating the arrival of the cherry blossoms. It’s similar to the beotkkot celebrated in the Land of the Morning Light, except that instead of a small picnic, it was an open-air festival filled with music and dance, where fairies helped us carry tasty appetizers in honor of the heritage that the goddess Sylvia left us in this world. We poured glasses of wine and watched how the light from the Young Kamasylve bathed the atmosphere, filled with pink petals falling onto the region's warm grass.

Wherever you are, oh Mother, I hope that one day you find the peace that we couldn’t give you in this world.

🌷 | MAY | Serendia Shrine — Serendia

I couldn't let this opportunity pass. I run a flower shop in Heidel, and I wanted to take advantage of the tulip season to ride out to the Serendia Shrine. It was as if nature were neutralizing the darkness held within those stone walls, manifesting itself in vibrant colors. Pink, red, and yellow grew among the ruins of a remote past, which they seemed to embrace and accept as part of their history, an encounter where good and evil converge for just a few days. I gently gathered some of those flowers, hoping they would one day find a sweet home where they are cherished and made to smile, just as they bring a bit of life to a humble Serendian house, the garden of a noble residence, or a room in a majestic castle.

Diana, my Arduanatt friend, didn't want to miss the chance to munch on a couple of flowers during this trip either.

🌲 | JUNE | Longleaf Tree Sentry Post — Calpheon

Then, I returned to the Longleaf Tree Forest to stay for a few days in my old cabin up in the great tree that supports the Sentry Post. The elves have been running it for a few years now to protect the Otters of Crioville and other forest animals. These were days when the heat was already rising, but it blended with the humidity of stormy days, leaving the wood with that unmistakable scent of rain, while water glided off every leaf I saw as I climbed the stairs wrapped around the trunk.

It was the perfect time to sleep in the cabin and catch up on rest, to unwind and read that book I had been looking forward to enjoying, to write some poems without rhymes in my diary, map out future ideas, or dedicate a beautiful letter to that very special someone.

And so, at the sunset hour, I went out to light the fires of the torches and bonfires and climbed to the top of the post. I came across the bows and arrows of the elves, the very ones I used to use, though now I carry my own, which always goes with me. With one last glance, however, I picked up an old guitar instead. I sat down. I played a few chords, remembering the feeling of my fingers sliding across the wood and strings.

I tried improvising this melody. The melody of the end of Spring.