The Janus Riddle (“From’s Five”)
From. Where. Are. You.
From above you, it suffocates.
From beneath you, it devours.
From within, it catches fire.
From without, it burns cold.
What then is it? What then must it be?
I am Cap’n Frobuné, The Salt Monkey of Seaglass‘ (‘Shimmering Sands’) Western territories; purveyor of the truest self-preservation; 11th division head under the banner of Wulfskulle; “Gentleman“ of the “Tattered Red Wastes“; Conservationist of The Floating World.
Through my own prolifically tarnished eyeglass, the mounts and bends of said terrain are something of a marvel to observe. Through these weary eyes, its peoples are drunk with opulent colors and clarity.
And it has become necessary for me to speak.
I know not who you are (if you in fact are at all), but I would nevertheless inform you that it has not so-to become necessary for me to be heard. This is not a Covenant of any sort. You are under no (lower than no, dare I say) obligation to render any alterations to your particular path (chosen or otherwise) as a result of finding my words where and as they are writ. It is not the Way.
If you (if, you) are viewing these words then it has likely transpired by way of these three branches: –
- I am no more.
- I am nowhere.
- You are trespassing…
If it is the third branch, you’ve nothing to fear by way of reprisal. Be at ease; take what you will, leave what you may, for here Sanctuary lies.
Find ‘The black cat’.
Reach ‘The eye of the storm’.
Discover ‘The meta-fields of engagement’.
Then we will have had words again.
Four now, Adieu.