The Well of Tears

393 AC - Forever teetering on the edge, on the threshold between the imaginary and reality. Such was the very nature of the Megalith. Supposedly, this Singularity dated back to the Confluence, and the breach had closed around it. It was said to be inert most of the time. But like all things in balance, it could shift from one side to another, like an iceberg that suddenly turns over in the dark waters of the Undersea. Like all Initiates, I had followed the instructions. I myself had used a chisel and hammer to collect a Fragment. I had found the ceremony underwhelming, and the inauguration pompous and pointless. There were so many rules: eat at precise times, greet someone when you see them for the first time on that day…

Do what everyone else does, I'd been told. But why? Follow the rules. But what good did that do? I'd kept those questions to myself because there didn't seem to be any real point to it, other than following traditions passed down from previous generations. Follow like sheep. Imitate. A Moth hatches from under my hat, and I watch it come out of its opaline casing. It too was suspended between the imaginary and reality. But with the right momentum, maybe it too could pass from one side of the Aether or the tangible to the other side. And that was exactly what I was going to find out with my next experiment. What would happen if I made the illusion real? I ponder the waterfalls that roar nearby, just like in the Well of Tears.

MOYO