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NADIRA (5.1)
I left work early. Once my feet were steady under me, Professor Mitchell insisted I go home and rest. The early afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the Starfall River, I was still too shaken to take in what I normally would have stopped to appreciate on this walk. The day had warmed up and I breathed in the early spring.
I passed by the open food markets, galleries and other shops that were starting to open. The streets were empty, aside from a few people walking around. I noted there was a new glass exhibition at one such gallery. The poster caught my eye, because it advertised that a human artisan was being shown. This was very rare, for normally humans are not accepted in the fine craft world. It was an outdated discrimination, but still had cultural sway. People tend to believe that they are better for farmers and soldiers. As someone who was half human, I had faced discrimination when entering the research and dream labs. But I have comfortably found my place.
I grabbed a copy of the flier out of the box in front of the gallery window. Noting that the date was this friday, I slipped it into my leather bag.
I continued on my way home, half in a daze. Stopping only for a refill of coffee beans and a melon.
#nadira#astralite city#architecture#orginal story#art and story#ART#reading#astralitecity#Astralite city#Fantasy#Art#Magic#short story#Astralite City#star fall#ART AND STORY#Nadira#Nadira journal#fantasy journal#Nadira5
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Nadira (Part 1): Introduction to Astralite City
As the moon ascended into the night sky, the clouds that had lingered stubbornly throughout the day began to disperse, revealing the star born city in all its splendor. From my vantage point atop the stone towers of the medical university building, nestled amidst the heart of Astralite City, I watched the city come to life.
As I gazed upon the familiar sight before me, the gargoyles awakening atop the ancient spires. A feeling of familiarity as my nightly routine begane. It was a scene I had witnessed countless times before, yet it still held a certain charm that I couldn't deny. With each stone joint creaking and claw scraping against rough-hewn stone, the creatures came to life in the moon's silver glow, their movements fluid and calculated. Before flying off to eat and socialize with other creatures who call Astralite City home.
The remnants of the day's rainfall lingered upon the cobblestones below, forming shimmering pools that mirrored the twinkling stars above. In the soft glow of the streetlights, the city took on an otherworldly beauty, each cobblestone and glistening puddle imbued with a sense of magic and mystery that seemed to resonate in every corner of the night-shrouded streets.
As I descended from the heights of the university tower, my gaze lingered upon the winding path that traced the course of the river, its waters glimmering like liquid silver from the star stones that lay at the bottom. With each step, I found myself drawn deeper into the heart of Astralite City. I was never lost in this part of the city, I knew the streets along the river well. I smiled to myself and the stars above me.
Passing by the glassblowing studios that lined the riverbank, I paused to admire the fiery glow of their furnaces, the rhythmic dance of flames casting flickering shadows upon the ancient stone facades. Here, amidst the heat and smoke of creation, master artisans worked tirelessly on delicate masterpieces each night. You could hear the craftsmen shout to one another as they pulled red hot glass from a furnace. More so than the university, these artisans were the heart of our city.
Further along the river's edge, night cafes beckoned with their lively atmosphere and the promise of laughter and music. In these bustling establishments I weaved between marble tables, metal chairs, and hurried server staff. The night cafes were already packed with evening citizens, their voices mingling with the strains of music that spilled out into the night air like a siren's call.
Arriving at my destination, a quaint night café nestled under an old magnolia tree, I scanned the crowd for my friend. Here, amidst the gentle murmur of the flowing waters and the soft glow of lantern light, I found an empty table with a view of the street. As I sat here, watching the people walk by, I couldn't help but feel proud of the city I called home. From the bustling medical research facilities to the bustling glassblowing studios, Astralite City is a melting pot of innovation and creativity, where the pursuit of knowledge and the mastery of craft intertwined in a symphony of ingenuity.
#architecture#short story#orginal story#Astralite City#star fall#Glass blowing#ART AND STORY#Nadira#Nadira journal#Nadira CHPT1
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Nadira, dream world exploration and spoilers
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Nadira (CHPT 4)
Descending into the depths of the dream realm, I anticipated a kaleidoscope of colors and sensations, where dreams wove themselves into a mesmerizing tapestry of the mind. Yet, as I ventured deeper, I found myself ensnared in an oppressive darkness, a void that threatened to swallow me whole. It was a sensation unlike any I had experienced before, and nothing I was told to prepare for in my studies. I probably should have hesitated, but I decided to take another step and then I was trapped.
With each step I took, the darkness seemed to grow denser, suffocating me with its weight. Panic gnawed at the edges of my consciousness as I struggled to find my bearings in this unfamiliar realm. I reached out, desperate for something, anything to anchor me to reality, but my efforts were met with naught but emptiness. I realized I could not withdraw from this man’s mind now.
This was not the dreamscape I knew, not the vibrant realm where imagination ran wild and possibilities were endless. It was a void, a yawning chasm that threatened to consume me whole. In the depths of that darkness, I felt a sense of unease, a primal fear that clawed at the edges of my mind.
Gathering my courage, I pressed forward, each step a battle against the suffocating darkness. And then, just as despair threatened to overwhelm me, a voice gruff soft and masculine hit my ear.
“Cecili… is that you?” The voice, though faint, was something I could follow. I turned toward the tired voice. Who was Cecili? But before I could respond, a blinding light rammed into me. I felt like I was falling over. It enveloped me, wrenching me from the darkness and into a strange room
As my vision cleared, I found myself standing in a cramped bedroom, the air heavy with the scent of age and decay. Before me lay an old man, his frail form illuminated by the soft glow of the green blue light, that shined over his head. It seemed like some sort of magic. He reached out to me, his voice a raspy whisper in the stillness of the room.
“Water… give me water,” he pleaded, his eyes searching for me. I moved with caution, fetching a glass of water from the bedside table and offering it to him. I observed the magic light above the man's head move with every step I took, like it was angling itself to face me at all times. As he drank, I tried to mentally reach out, my magic touching the light but it made no connection. Strange.....
“Am I in your body right now?” I ventured, my voice trembling with uncertainty. The old man shook his head, his gaze distant as he stared out the window.
“I do not know… I feel strange. Like a mist,” he murmured, his voice trailing off as he turned to face me once more. “Cecili….is that you Cecili”
My voice sounded like a whisper "Who is Cecili?".
The man turned his face to me and his eyes finally focused on me. They became clear, and then an unnaturally big smile broke the man's face. His voice much stronger then it had been he said "It wont be long now for you". Instinct took over, I felt like a bird caught in a cats paw.
A sense of urgency swept over me, a feeling of impending doom that sent shivers down my spine. The room got darker, the already cramped room got smaller, and the landscape outside the window started to vanish. And then, with a violent jolt, I was torn from the dream, my senses reeling as I found myself back in the university lab.
Professor Mitchell stood beside me, I was back in the lab. Nurses ran around, the boy Infront of me was dead. Professor Mitchell kept a grip firm on my shoulder as she led me to a nearby wall. I leaned against it, my head spinning as I struggled to make sense of what had just transpired. The room swirled around me, a blur of activity and noise as the reality of the situation sank in. I felt like I was going to throw up.
“You need some water, intern,” Professor Mitchell said softly, her voice a lifeline in the chaos that surrounded us.
#astralite city#nadira#orginal story#NADIRA 4#architecture#ART#art and story#reading#Nadira2#astralitecity#Astralite city#Fantasy#Art#Magic#short story#Astralite City#star fall#ART AND STORY#Nadira#Nadira journal#fantasy journal
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Nadira (PART 3)
In the brightly lit lab, amidst scattered paperwork and vials of samples, my unwrapped tuna sandwich lay neglected on the metal table. It wasn't the most appetizing sight, but in a place where test samples mingled with discarded cups of urine and stray hairs, I learned to ignore the mess when it was lunch time. Almost like a mental wall I would put up, or blinders. Just me, my coffee, my sandwich.
A familiar figure entered the lab, his presence disrupting the break I had hoped to have. Eren, with his wispy frame and fingers tinged with green, bore news from Professor Mitchell, his voice a soft murmur in the sterile air. “Professor Mitchell wants to see you down in the sleep lab”. My stomach grumbled in response.
I pushed away from my desk, acknowledging his summons with a sigh. Following his lead, we traveled the labyrinthine corridors of the research facility, descending down spiraling stone staircases. Passing small windows adorned with potted plants and glimpses of the world outside, where the sky stretched endless and blue.
At last, we arrived at a lower level, hidden beneath the earth's surface, where the air carried the soothing scent of lavender and sandalwood. Here, our patients slumbered under the gentle embrace of magic, their dreams shielded from the harsh realities of the waking world.
Outside a patient's room, Professor Mitchell awaited. She was a fae of some kind, who looked to be in her late 50’s. Her silver-blonde hair tightly braided and her sharp features softened by the hint of a smile. Though her age remained a mystery, her stature commanded respect, and the interns whispered among themselves, speculating on her secrets and trading bets on her true years.
I stopped short “Professor” I nodded. Without a smile on her stern graceful face she nodded back “Nadira, I am going to need you to come with me”
In the hallowed halls of our research facility, Professor Mitchell reigned supreme, her reputation as the foremost dream weaver in the city preceding her like a shadow cast by the setting sun. Our study, a bold venture into the realm of the subconscious, aimed to unravel the tangled threads of trauma that bound our patients to their past, a venture as daring as it was perilous.
As we stood in the dimly lit room, bathed in the warm glow of lamplight, the air heavy with the scent of lavender and sandalwood, I couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation. The comfortable mint green bed beckoned invitingly, a sanctuary amidst the chaos of the waking world, its promise of respite a beacon of hope in the darkness.
Before me lay a man, his half-human visage etched with the weariness of a life lived on the fringes of society. His young face, though sunken and haggard, bore the scars of a past marred by hardship and strife. I studied the burns that marred his arms, testament to a life spent toiling in the fiery depths of the glass district's furnaces.
Consulting his chart, I discovered the truth of his origins – a soldier, returned from the frontlines of a distant war to find solace in the menial labor of stoking furnaces for the glassmakers of our city. He was young, younger than most who sought refuge within the walls of our facility, his innocence a stark contrast to the world-weary souls that populated our halls.
As I met Professor Mitchell's gaze, a flicker of concern passed through her steely gray eyes, fleeting yet unmistakable in its intensity. With a sigh that spoke volumes of her impatience, she issued her command, her voice a low murmur that echoed in the stillness of the room.
"Nadira," she said, her tone tinged with urgency, "I need you to place a hand upon his temple, and then join your essence with mine."
I blinked in confusion, my mind struggling to comprehend the gravity of her words. "You want me to dream weave?" I asked, incredulity coloring my voice.
Her response was swift, her patience wearing thin. "Intern," she chided, her tone laced with annoyance, "I do not like to repeat myself. I need you to enter his mind with me."
And so, with a sense of unease gnawing at my heart, I obeyed, my hand trembling as it reached out to touch the fevered brow of the man before me. For in the world of dreams, where reality blurred and nightmares reigned supreme, there were no guarantees of safe passage, only the promise of discovery – and the ever-present threat of oblivion.
#orginal story#nadira#astralite city#architecture#reading#Nadira2#astralitecity#Astralite city#Fantasy#Art#Magic#short story#Astralite City#star fall#ART AND STORY#Nadira#Nadira journal#fantasy journal#ART
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Nadira (Part 2)
“These goddamn birds”
I cursed the incessant chirping of the morning birds that had rudely interrupted my already meager sleep.
In a city that thrived under the cover of darkness, where the vibrant pulse of life only truly began to stir after nightfall, the concept of rest was a precious commodity for anyone in my profession.
Rubbing sleep from my eyes, I cast a rueful glance at the clock on the wall, noting with dismay that the hour had already crept past nine. Another late night at the night cafes with friends had left me with precious little time for rest.
Dragging myself from the comfort of my iron bed frame, I groaned in protest, I stumbled bleary-eyed across the room. With each creak of the floorboards beneath my feet, I was reminded of the several bottles of wine I had shared with my dear friend last night.
Venturing into the cozy confines of my kitchen, I lazily flicked my hand, igniting the stove with a simple gesture. The kettle clinked against the stovetop as I poured ground coffee beans into a French press by hand, a modest display of magic that required less effort than crossing the apartment.
Settling down at my worn kitchen table. Another easy and routine display of magic. Thick slices of toast, lightly adorned with butter and topped with slices of tomato.
After relishing the quiet solitude of my breakfast, I cleared my plates and retreated to my bedroom. There, I slipped into a cozy blue sweater and grey pants, embracing the comfort they offered. Packing my lunch and transferring the remaining coffee into a to-go container, I prepared for the day ahead.
Completing my ensemble with a lightweight jacket to ward off the brisk morning breeze, I ensured I was adequately shielded against the elements. Stepping into sturdy boots, I cradled a steaming cup of coffee in my hands, finding solace in its warmth against the cool morning air.
As I ventured out into the still-sleeping Astralite city, the towering spires of the university loomed in the distance. Squaring my shoulders and offering a silent greeting to the city's slumbering streets, I set off on my journey to the research study, savoring the familiar rhythm of urban life amidst the enchanting backdrop of the magical metropolis.
#architecture#reading#nadira#Nadira2#astralitecity#Astralite city#orginal story#Fantasy#Art#Magic#short story#Astralite City#star fall#ART AND STORY#Nadira#Nadira journal#fantasy journal#Nadira CHPT2
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