Read Online Crystal Shade Episodes 01 by Ifj. & Orlanda Szabo Istvan Szabo - Free Book Online
Authors: Ifj. & Orlanda Szabo Istvan Szabo
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believe you won’t find the right gift here that you’re looking for, young Graciana. Come. Come, sit and listen,” he invited her kindly and Grace sat down on the small wooden stool, which faced the chair that the Great Master sat in. “Artists share their vision, gift it to the people. But between each other we, artists are sharing stories that we then can pass and can pass on and give inspiration. So, you’ll hear the story that no one else has heard from the Great Master Nervaschanzo; the story of the crystal sunset.”
The old art master coughed once before starting.
“The Divine Nervaschanzo. That’s all I hear when people see my art and read the echo of my soul! Even the Great God statues of the Oval Hall of Sagatta are shy and desire the touch of this great sculptor! But how can I be divine without inspiration; an artist without a vision?” his old voice rumbled, and then he reverted to a gentler tone.
“One day a morning was half gone already, young Graciana and I still couldn’t find the inspiration. I’ve seen days and nights as Sachylia and Carenia Seli chased each other across the sky, but the right moment didn’t touch me. When one’s imagination cannot provide an answer; you seek a greater imagination. But even my guardian, my own Watcher,” he looked up to an imaginary face and with a pretend fury, he pointed to the air as his voice thundered once again. “Yes, you Carenian who is brilliant like me and hiding in your safe realm, you, my twin soul has stayed silent!” Nervaschanzo smiled as he looked back at Grace who enjoyed his storytelling.
“So I left my land to find my moment,” the old polymath continued. “A flock of tweeting and soaring birds watched over me from the great trees and the vast skies of Coreenthia. The crystal-clear waters of the Hijazian oases eased my thirst under the shadows of the arecaceae trees and pink petals of the Yaanan sakuras danced around me in the gentle breeze. The squeezing cold of Crystana Serentis froze my breath so I could touch it, and green grass stroked my feet in the endless rich meadows of Andrenia. But none of them was good enough for old Nervaschanzo. None of them was my perfect moment. Sad and disappointed, I returned home. But I was blind, I realized.” He looked up again for a moment to face his unseen guardian soul. After a thankful nod, he looked back at Grace.
“The journey was a lesson to old, foolish Nervaschanzo as the perfect moment was never gone, but waited for me. The sunrise, which was clear as the soul of the Sacred Mother looked back through my window, from above the great gulf of my home, Sessa Asria.” Grace listened with great excitement while Nervaschanzo continued. “Always remember, young Graciana; never look for the moment, as the moment always finds you.”
The little girl applauded and the old poet respectfully nodded.
“When you tell this story to your loved ones, please tell them you’ve met with the great storyteller and poet, the old Nervaschanzo, the one who has finally found his crystal sunset.”
The old poet leaned closer to her.
“Time is always short for brilliant artistic souls like you and me, young Graciana. The right moment never awaits, but finds us.” He spread his hands and continued. “Just look around. Moments look back all over, calling you to experience, to learn and then to later share it with others through your arts and words. And when you come to Sessa Asria someday, maybe you’ll share your own story, your perfect moment with the old, but Great Nervaschanzo.”
The young girl nodded at the kind old man. “I will,” she said kindly.
“Now go and let your moment find you, young Graciana.”
Grace admitted old Nervaschanzo was right. His story will be the greatest present she could give to her father who always loved to hear the experiences and adventures of others. Everyone on Eecrys Aredia, human and Aserian alike believed in the power of words, the shared experience and
The old art master coughed once before starting.
“The Divine Nervaschanzo. That’s all I hear when people see my art and read the echo of my soul! Even the Great God statues of the Oval Hall of Sagatta are shy and desire the touch of this great sculptor! But how can I be divine without inspiration; an artist without a vision?” his old voice rumbled, and then he reverted to a gentler tone.
“One day a morning was half gone already, young Graciana and I still couldn’t find the inspiration. I’ve seen days and nights as Sachylia and Carenia Seli chased each other across the sky, but the right moment didn’t touch me. When one’s imagination cannot provide an answer; you seek a greater imagination. But even my guardian, my own Watcher,” he looked up to an imaginary face and with a pretend fury, he pointed to the air as his voice thundered once again. “Yes, you Carenian who is brilliant like me and hiding in your safe realm, you, my twin soul has stayed silent!” Nervaschanzo smiled as he looked back at Grace who enjoyed his storytelling.
“So I left my land to find my moment,” the old polymath continued. “A flock of tweeting and soaring birds watched over me from the great trees and the vast skies of Coreenthia. The crystal-clear waters of the Hijazian oases eased my thirst under the shadows of the arecaceae trees and pink petals of the Yaanan sakuras danced around me in the gentle breeze. The squeezing cold of Crystana Serentis froze my breath so I could touch it, and green grass stroked my feet in the endless rich meadows of Andrenia. But none of them was good enough for old Nervaschanzo. None of them was my perfect moment. Sad and disappointed, I returned home. But I was blind, I realized.” He looked up again for a moment to face his unseen guardian soul. After a thankful nod, he looked back at Grace.
“The journey was a lesson to old, foolish Nervaschanzo as the perfect moment was never gone, but waited for me. The sunrise, which was clear as the soul of the Sacred Mother looked back through my window, from above the great gulf of my home, Sessa Asria.” Grace listened with great excitement while Nervaschanzo continued. “Always remember, young Graciana; never look for the moment, as the moment always finds you.”
The little girl applauded and the old poet respectfully nodded.
“When you tell this story to your loved ones, please tell them you’ve met with the great storyteller and poet, the old Nervaschanzo, the one who has finally found his crystal sunset.”
The old poet leaned closer to her.
“Time is always short for brilliant artistic souls like you and me, young Graciana. The right moment never awaits, but finds us.” He spread his hands and continued. “Just look around. Moments look back all over, calling you to experience, to learn and then to later share it with others through your arts and words. And when you come to Sessa Asria someday, maybe you’ll share your own story, your perfect moment with the old, but Great Nervaschanzo.”
The young girl nodded at the kind old man. “I will,” she said kindly.
“Now go and let your moment find you, young Graciana.”
Grace admitted old Nervaschanzo was right. His story will be the greatest present she could give to her father who always loved to hear the experiences and adventures of others. Everyone on Eecrys Aredia, human and Aserian alike believed in the power of words, the shared experience and
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