2004-02-12 - 8:30 a.m.
Aesthetics and Apathy
Standing among the dancing lights scattered by the leafy branches of an elm caught in the wind, a man appears in different places to be transparent or even mottled with holes. Where the sun is strongest on him, he seems most solid, if not opaque, yet in those places covered by shadow, the trunk of the tree shows clearly behind him. The people standing near him now, his friends, do not seem disturbed by his ethereal state, for he is a Muse, and it is only natural for him to exist n this way. In broad daylight, he seems human at a glance though even the briefest of scrutiny reveals that something is off about his appearance. With an expression betraying no emotions, with such androgynous a face and figure, and with those simple white robes, Gelandel seems too plain yet also too perfect. On him there is no blemish or scar. From head to toe, his body is unerring symmetry and in proportions pleasing to the view of all who survey him.
Through this perfection, nothing stands out as remarkable save one aspect: his eyes. They present a contradiction, containing all the knowledge of a man who has learned many difficult lessons from a along and trying life yet also holding the impression of a child, innocent, as if that same man had one day awoken to amnesia, freed from his memories of hardship while somehow still retaining the wisdom those experiences has paid for. Though Gelandel’s body is translucent, it is his gaze that seems to penetrate people, seeing not their physical features or bragged virtues but the strength of their will and the limits of their potential. With this divine perception, a Muse selects those it will join with in order to fulfill its existence through creation; however, even surrounded by the most remarkable people that Fulgerus has to offer, Gelandel has yet to form a single bond with anyone.
