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Mountain Ridge

Clouds smudged before her eyes. From afar echoed a cry. One step at a time, she was climbing up the mountain in the moonshine. Her hands felt numb from the cold and fate was bound to unfold. When she realized the scream left her own lips, she sent a curse to the beginning lunar eclipse: “Blood drops from your lips, the very lips I used to kiss!”

Shredded memories flooded her mind as she remembered a long-lost time. A time when he whispered sweet words in her ear. Sharp stones cut her feet. “I keep on walking although I bleed!” Her voice resembled a dogs bark, it echoed before it vanished in the dark. Being alone didn’t make her journey harder – she was used to it, a lone wolf, a martyr.

“For how long have I been shedding tears,” she asked herself. “It could be hours, it could be days, it could be years.” As the veil of salty oceans began to lift, she noticed how the world commenced to shift.¬†Stones turned into scissor sharp flowers, trees transformed into flamingo-like towers. Flying fungi danced around her arms, grass lianas spoke their charms. The wind blew from the east promising change, promising ease.

She heard voices trickling from the mountain tops. They danced the dance of water drops. “Come, come precious soul, don’t shy back from the unknown.” Translucent flowers sprung from her hands, guiding her way through the badlands. As she reached the edge of a mountain ridge, the moon was fully hidden by the eclipse. Bodies stepped out of the dark, lit up a fire with a golden spark. Strange fairies, bizarre souls, a dissonant choir, yet sounding ethereally whole while spurring the fire.

“Raise your arms to the dark moon
Let go of your grief, relief will follow soon.
Will you dare to look into the mirror of fate?
Will you dare to let go of your hate?
Will you dare to leave yourself behind
To find what you were keen to find?
Become a sister of the crescent moon
Let go of your grief, come with us soon.”

Leaves cylindered the woman’s body like a spider’s cocoon. “All what has been, will vanish soon!” Hazy thoughts clouded her mind, she was ready to uncover what was hers to find. As her heart raced like a horse, she felt no regret nor remorse. Gusts of wind roared over the mountain ridge, and suddenly stopped with the end of the lunar eclipse. Peace laid itself over the edge, no signs of the fairies, and all that was left, were two burned in footsteps.

She burned her heart on that very day, at least that’s what fairytales say. And if you’ll climb a mountain on a lunar eclipse, you’ll still hear her last words on its mountain ridge: “Enchantress of the moon, sorceress of souls, you can have my body, but let my soul wander on this planet from early dusk till dawn. Let it exist and let it be gone. Let me savor the morning hours, let me sing with the trees, let me lay bare between flowers, let me sway in the summer breeze. Enchantress of the moon, sorceress of souls, take my body, but let my soul wander on this planet for all of enternity, let me fusion with the world – surrounding us, surrounding me.”

Credits: Tale and Song by Avielle Bucher; Visual Concept, 3D- and Colour-Editing by Johanna Besseling; Photos by Lucas Nold