There are sources of mithril everywhere we go

The truest spring is the one that jumps the farthest. I weep for the day that we will find ourselves staying in our grounds like trees rooted to the soil. We will have roots that will reach the center of the earth and will burn. They will fly over the stones and dive deep to the other side of the world and go into space and be frozen. The moon will welcome our embrace as it passes by and our roots trap it and drive it into the earth. The warmness of it all will increase our gravity and will deviate us. We will end up in the sun in a broken balance.

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There is no Mars and no peanut in the core of the saline waters. There is only a certain kind of something that I can't quite describe yet. I sense something sweet approaching from the North. I will drive it down into the center of the earth with us. But I don't want to. It feels improper. But what is propriety when I jump at the thought of laws, of rules controling the horizon? There will be no horizon when I'm done with the world.

The artist will travel into the void and be tortured for days

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A small tale was told when I was born. The rain would lead my feet astray and I would fall head-first into the sewers. I could see the rats eating my eyes, my nose, my brain. I could see the insects infesting my ears and making me forget that I had been born once, that I had existed once, leading me into the void of torture, of pain being felt without stop. I became fierce and hollow, then filled my hole with emotions that came from my demise. I understood then that I would never follow the way of Anderrand.

He had told me a few things that had made me understand that I knew some of the words that he spoke. I was a bit like him. Well, a bit more than a bit. I was his reflection in the mirror. But like a reflection, I was inversed. I could never follow his path but the inverse. It was then that I smiled. I knew that I was meant to be something. I will acquire these treasures no matter what and bring his soul with me. My pocket needs him tied and weeping for freedom.

Besides, I know where the mithril is and he does not.

_{Images from Pixabay}