The Arcana Way
It has been several years since my last entry, and yet forever has passed, and no time at all. The world of Arkartia knows no boundaries of time nor space.
I visited a vast city on the coast, upon which was set a mighty lighthouse, and the ships that travelled there were of many worlds. Yet there was a mighty clock upon a tower, set a moment before now, always racing into the future by a brief glimpse – enough that I knew in any moment, what was to pass in the moments following.
I spent time beyond measure following the Arcana Way, a highway of golden stones threading across the twelve realms, each with its own boundaries and borders, its own spirit and mysteries. There were heroes and heroines, there were rulers and tragic tales, there were legends and lore beyond measure.
It is a place where the Tarot cards are spoken as a language – and they are alive.
It is a place of secrets and brotherhoods, of sisters of the Moon and Orders of Everlasting Day. It is the place of which we sometimes dream at midnight or in the moment before the dawn. It is the world of endless wonder, of love beyond calling and where we become the myth and legends of which we aspire.
There are mountains there, in a ring of clouds, from which spill the four great rivers of history. There are cities and towns, monuments and ancient pyramids, there is endless adventure and endless discovery. It is the world of those who journey into the Tarot, and become wayfarers thereof.
It calls me even now, and I must return – whilst I make my life in this world, I become something more noble, more divine, in my passing of time in that other place.
Arkartia. I return.