places in nolbaehir: part 1
this is how i feel about some of the major locations in nolbaehir.
the shrine of space: “this story ends where it began - at a little, long, forgotten island at the edge of the world.” there’s a deep and ancient magic that permeates the earth, the trees and the streams, and the air crackles with it. the stones of the shrine are thick with ghosts from a long-forgotten murder. deep within the forest, there’s a crack in the world, and no amount of bloodshed will seal it up again.
sonamu town: the people here just want a quiet life. the sunsets here wash the grimy pastel buildings in a thousand shades of gold and orange. the trains run a little behind schedule but no-one minds. won’t you stay a little longer? won’t you watch the stars with me, won’t you laugh as we run through the cobbled streets waving colourful strings of flags? there’s a storm dressed in white and grey blowing in over the northern horizon, and i fear our offerings will no longer placate it. if you leave, you will not come back the same.
parela town: the last stronghold of magecraft on nolbaehir. the hot, dry wind rolls in over the buildings, the scent of eucalyptus and dust mingling with oil, salt and grunge. for seven thousand years, it has been a safe haven for forbidden knowledge and secret trysts, for ancient grudges and loves alike. there is a sickness in the city, rising up through the streets wearing the badges of prefects and district supervisors. the archmage watches from her window at her beloved city. she fears it is too late.
the deep woods: no-one knows how old these trees are. perhaps it’s better not to know. it’s rumoured to be the realm of the gods. parents tell their children tales of wanderers and curious adventurers lost in the dark, lured further in by mysterious lights. once, long ago, it was more commonplace to travel on foot through the woods to get from one end of the continent to another. those days are long gone, what with the rise of skycraft. but the earth remembers. and it will embrace those who tread carefully, it will grant them with safe passage and dreamless sleep. perhaps it is better that the old ways were forgotten.
the city: fundamentally, it is a liminal space. no amount of extravagant feats of architecture and elegant masterworks will dull the feeling of impermanence, of dis-ease as you run down the empty boulevards after curfew. graffiti is expressly forbidden, and yet there are eyes everywhere. the city is bathed red with the light of the revolution. the city would have you believe that the future here is neon-bright, but like the rest of it, that is a lie.