Log #30

i was in an oz-cum-middle earth-ian land with a couple of friends and we found the crossing between life and death. it was a magnificent mountainous area covered with coniferous plants. a bridge – in a dull golden colour – laid over a small creek, heading towards a gate made of very tall pines and firs. what was supposed to be the frame was large leafless stumps in the same shade with the bridge.

we had seen some of our other friends banished to the other side by a group of dragoons on black horses. it was our duty to take them back and we knew we would have to arm ourselves before we cross over if we ever wanted to return. we were told that we should discover our weapons if we dug the earth at the flank of the creek. so that was what we did.

in a chronological order, we found a meticulously carved silver dagger, a ragged doll, notebooks that looked like they belonged to an elementary school student and were filled with the owner’s handwriting recording his or her daily pursuits, and finally, a preserved corpse of a girl in a dark blue dress holding another notebook. she looked as if she were sleeping. she looked so peaceful and captivating, like treasure.

we heard sounds from behind the gate and saw three striking women walking down the hills towards the border. we then saw somebody walking through the gate trying to escape but in ways too quick that i can’t recall them now the women caught the poor truant and silence came. the women walked nonchalantly to the bridge and smiled at us. obviously they were showing us the extent of their power.

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