He silences me with a look. “Hush child. I am getting there,” he says playfully.

“Yeah, well hurry up,” I laugh. “Otherwise our tea will turn cold.”

“So with this imprisonment this terrible time officially came to a close. However, after the end of this Great War the Gods suddenly retreated from man’s sight and to this day no one has ever seen them again. There are many speculations about why exactly they disappeared. Some say that they lost faith in humanity and decided to forsake them, after having been betrayed by some of them in the War. Others believe that the Gods were exhausted from all of the fighting and simply fell into a long slumber, and that they will return someday. But the people of our tribe tell a different story.”

He nods to the pastry in my hand. “Take a bite of it and tell me what you see.”

I look down at the food I am holding. The pastry is cream colored, round-shaped and about the size of the palm of my hand. When I lift it up to my mouth some of the white powder that is dusted on top falls off.

The first thing I notice is that a thick, blood red sauce with a custard-like consistency starts oozing out as soon as I have taken a bite out of it. The flavor of it is neither salty or sour, and little bit sharp. The contrast between the vivid, crimson red of the inside and the clean white outside makes for a kind of eerily combination.

As the contents of the inside starts to ooze out even more it slowly starts to stain parts of the outside as well. It kind of reminds me of…blood stained snow.

“It has a very bittersweet taste to it, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, it really does now that you mention it. But there is something about it that I can’t place. The aftertaste is tinged with this almost sweet, floral like flavor or something.” I lift my head to look at my grandfather. “What exactly is this red sauce made of?”

“Ah, you are right on track with that! The filling is made from the petals of the uummak flower.”

He points to an area on the world map that is hanging on the wall behind us. “Right there, deep in the snowy mountains of our lands, deep in the Nunaat region, is the only place in the world where you can find these flowers. The most interesting part however, is that they only bloom around once a month under the light of a full moon.”

He turns back around.

“To get back to the story behind this pastry… the people of our tribe believe that the Gods disappeared from here, simply because they could not bear to be in a world without their sister. But they were plagued with the same dilemma as their fallen comrade for their immortal nature made it impossible for them to die and for their spirit to travel to Nulangia, the promised home of departed souls.

So what they decided to do was to go to the place in this world which was closest to their sister, who now was a star in the sky. There, beneath a full moon, they each drove a sword into their hearts and, like a star collapsing on itself, their bodies turned cold and eventually winked out of sight.”

“Wait, where did they disappear to then according to this legend?”

“People say that the force of their pain was so great that it caused a rip in the fabric of reality to appear. This is where they went through, going to a place that exists beyond time. There, with the swords still lodged in their hearts, they fell into a deep sleep. It is said that they reside there still, waiting for their long lost sister, who is the only one who can pull the swords from their hearts and relieve them from their slumber.

It is there, in the place where the Gods struck those swords in their hearts, that the first ever uummak flower sprung. Its name roughly translates to ‘heart that bleeds for eternity’ or in the common tongue ‘I have loved and I have lost’. This is why our people believe that, if you meet a person you’ll will never see again, these flowers will bloom along the path.”

He holds up his pastry in the light of the lantern and slowly turns it around. “The white, round outer appearance is made to resemble the full moon and the purity and wholeness that people feel when they are together with their loved ones not having experienced the bitter taste of seperation yet.”

Then, with his hands, he unceremoniously tears the uunmak cake in half promptly causing the red filling to start spilling out. “Only after having tasted the bitter flavor of the inside is one able to truly appreciate the sweet flavor of the outside. It is only through seperation that one can truly know the meaning of union, of oneness.”

He takes a quick bite out of one of the two pieces of cake he is now holding in his hand and leanes back in his chair. Then, so quickly I almost miss it, a pained expression crosses his face. But before I even know it the familiar, carefree almost childlike twinkle already has returned to its rightful place inside my grandfather’s eyes.

“Sorry kid, your grandfather got a bit carried away there. All in all the uummak cake serves as a reminder to appreciate your loved ones while they are still here, because you can never, ever fully know what the winds of tomorrow may bring.”

After his words we sit in silence for awhile drinking our tea and finishing the rest of our food.

With my grandfather’s words still fresh in my mind and the bittersweet taste of the uummak cake on my tongue my thoughts begin to wander through the wild and desolate gardens of my past.

Loss.

Longing.

Despair.

Abandonment.

Is grandfather thinking about her as well in this very moment?

I don’t have many memories of my mother.

I suspect it is probably because she passed away when I was only four years old. Frankly, when it comes down to it, there is not a lot to reminisce about. At best, maybe three, or four memories are vivid enough to occasionally revisit if I feel like it.

The reality is that her existence only takes up a very small part within the fabric of mine.

But for grandpa…

I glance over at him over the edge of my mug. He seems lost in thought, his gaze resting on some point in the distance, as he is absentmindedly sipping on his tea of which, by the way, I am sure of has gone cold by now.

For him there must not be a garden big enough in this world to hold all his memories.

To hold all his grief.

A parent having to bury their own child is as close as one can get to a disruption of the natural order of life itself. I would not wish such a fate upon even my worst enemy.

However, in this moment it also becomes painstakingly clear to me that death is not the only thing that can separate humans from one another. Because, right now, as I am eating the same food, as I am breathing the same air, and as I am sharing the same blood as my grandfather, still he is so very far away from me as he is strolling through the gardens of his own past.

I guess there are more places I can’t reach and more paths I can’t follow than I thought.

But I made a promise to myself. Tonight those sad truths will have to stay buried for a little while longer.

We sip on our lukewarm teas for another few more moments until, out of the corner of my eye, I spot something glistening in a place where that should not be case.

I put my mug down on the desk behind me and stand up to take a closer look.

My grandfather kind of has a obsession with collecting all sorts of ancient astronomical devices. Scattered throughout the room, they cover almost every surface. His collection ranges from small astrolabes, horologiums and astronomical compendia to enormous orreries and armillary spheres.

His absolute pride and joy however, is a dark walnut longcase clock that stands in the corner of the room, positioned between the bookcase and the wall. It is before this instrument that I currently find myself crouching down.

The strange shimmer that caught my eye just seconds ago lies underneath the clock next to one of its feet, just barely hidden out of sight. I reach out, grab it and hold it in front of my face.

It is a smooth, oval gemstone about the size of a large acorn and, as I turn it in the light, a dazzling kaleidoscope of rainbow colors flash across its transparent body.

“Hey, grandpa,” I call out. “I think I have found that gemstone you dropped earlier.”

I get up and resume my seat besides him. “I don’t recognise it,” I say as I hand the stone over. “Where does it come from?”

“Ah, thank you kiddo,” he exclaims loudly. He also gives a little tug on one of my braids as well.

I scowl at him as I push his hand away “Grandpa! I am not a little kid anymore. How long are you gonna keep doing that?”

“As long as I live kid. Or as long as you have hair on your head. So, forever I guess?” he grins at me.

I roll my eyes at him, hiding my own one behind my hand. “Yeah, yeah grandpa. Sure you do. Now back to this stone.”

“So this little gem here was actually sent to me by a friend of mine who lives in the Xiora Island Region. Don’t know how he manages to live there in all that blasted heat. It’s hotter than the Fire Gods asshole if you ask me.”

I am sure that if I still was eating one of those uummak cakes I would choked by now for sure.

“He mentioned something about studying the wild cave systems there and, that during one of his explorations, he stumbled upon our little friend here. He never had seen one like this before so he asked me if I could take a look at it.”

“And what’s the verdict? Did you discover anything?”

“Well, when I first had taken a look at it, it seemed like just a regular stone. Except for its beautiful colorful appearance, there was nothing really extraordinarily about it. However, it wasn’t until last night, when I tried using it to do some magic, that I discovered something rather…unusual.”

“You mean like the spell backfired? Or, wait, don’t tell me that it is actually some freaky powerful conduit stone or something?”

“I have to say no to both of these. The thing is, is that I was not able to perform any spell at all with it. The stone was not able to shape or direct any of my magic.”

“But that’s simply not possible. Even when someone is using a gemstone which is not compatible with his or hers magic it still should be able to be used as a conduit. I mean, yes you can’t exactly use powerful spells and the ones you do can use will be a lot weaker, but by no means should it result in a complete unability to use any magic. Are you sure you have tried every type of magic spell?”

“I had the same doubts you have kid, so I contacted my friend and he said he experienced the same exact thing and that this is the reason why he send it to me. He actually wants me to make a Graphein with it.”

“He wants you to make a Graphein, which basically is a tool that enables a mage to enhance their abilities to shape and direct the powers of their magic, and use this gemstone as the conduit for it? When it apparently is unable to do the one thing that a Graphein is supposed to do?”