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Rated: E · Fiction · Philosophy · #2253400
An esoterical journey into the night's sky.

“What lies beyond the void umbra.”

A mind afflicted with the fascination of the aberrant questioned, a mind forever pondering the nature of the space between worlds, wondering what ethereal tethers bind reality together and what unimaginable aberrations exist behind the veil of real space. Their mind oddly tailored to such wandering and imagination, letting it ponder the untethered realities that may hide behind common understanding, grasping at aspects ethereal and paradoxical, existences where our collective understanding is useless—all scattered thoughts ringing around their head, locked behind unnatural astral grey eyes mirroring the near-infinite starscape. Sitting up, they try to bring their eyes and thoughts to something else, fascination drives.

“For what meaning does the night hold.”

They murmured to themselves and to what other unseeable entities lurk within the sheets of umbra. Those lurking spectres were no thought of theirs; they think of spectres as myth. Who knows if they truly are myth! They drew thoughts of the night and its abstracted meaning, the darkness echo’s fear, and paranoia, but the night itself bring on day, a statement of renewal, rebirth, and progress. For night is not malice but a resting point between time of action where grand statements of civilisation have been built all under both veil of night and the scry of the Sun. They sit watching the pale grey-white sphere move ever further towards the horizon border to call upon the waking sun.

“The night but one side to a coin, the sun brings light to us but the dark show's creation. Yet what lies beyond simple creation.”

Their eyes shift back up, watching and waiting, seeing beyond the scattered pearl beads placed in the fabric of the void, looking at the past and the ever tempestuous and brutal nature of existence, a near Darwinian playground of crashing planets almost looking to be thrown in a tantrum by some entity unseen. Rings of brimstone, fire, and dust perpetually turbulent and destructive, for all the tantrums wrath it held majesty, the formation of worlds all in time to be gifted life through the forever chaotic machinations of the universe. All created within the void umbra in the ferocious heat of stars, churning once dispersant rubble scattered across space to be forged as specs of dust for the scale of the universe. Yet thoughts still linger on the aberrant and how they may hide in that ever-present darkness, creature of form uncertain a pervasive horror at their design.

Eyes either ever open and staring or no present, body malformed protruding sleek eel-like appendages with ever chittering mouths covering. All causes of madness and paranoia except for them, as they see all these hypothetical beings with a driven fascination, perplexing peers, and parents alike. This was no problem to them as their astral eyes watched agape with the lingering star scape hanging above the cold black of night warming as the waking sun brought magnificent colour to the sky and scattered clouds. Indigo, lilac, azures all blending and shifting together as if being painted by a great artist whose talent for detail knows no limits. As trees that border the open field almost light up as if fire has claimed them, glowing in near radiance. The collected dew scattering the rays of the newly waking sun, gifting the verdant field an otherworldly appearance. Shifting green to a pearlescence making one almost think that they stand on an alien world, with cliffs of ivory and seas of glass. But simple trickery is broken in little more than a step, disappointing those stricken with wanderlust. As they still sat there watching the long hours go by, their mind ever chaotic and full of thought, shielding their astral eyes, they still pondered.

“What lies beyond the void umbra.”

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