Paths lead us here.

You maybe wonder who is Alur and what's about this lake of hers. You maybe question yourself "Why would I wanna know about her?" and you are perfectly right. You don't want to know about her, you don't care how beautiful she was or how gracefully she used to walk through The Forest Over The Bend Mountains. You don't know anything about her, about her green eyes and her silver hair, about how she used to walk among her dearest children and spread her love over each and every one of them. Was it a mother-child love that she carried inside her pure heart? Was it a lover to lover beautiful love? Maybe you don't care about her sacrifice but it's a damn impressive story to tell!
It was told, like every immortal story that survived over the centuries, form mother to daughter and passed on over and over till it reached me. I wonder more than you do, really, and I wonder how many other girls my age have dreamed about this beautiful story in their childhood years?...How do the mysterious ways of fate make such things happen and more important, how do these paths go along with the years, stumbling and splitting again so we, children of today can carry on memories of the people of yesterday. I imagine my mother when she was my age, back home where she used to live as a young girl. I imagine her all excited, with her cheeks blushing of youth, with her eyes wide opened and sparking, with her raven-black wavy hair gathered on her back, tied with a white ribbon....She's on her knees; Dora is calmly sitting on her right and Lena, on her left but all three of them are breathless and anxious to hear the magical story coming out of my grandmother's mouth. It's late night, my grandpa's sleeping, the small light coming from the oil lamp hardly breaks the darkness and my grandmother spins the wool while she's bouncing in her chair. And she begin to tell the story in her particular way, like she actually been there. Her eyes sparkle and she looks somewhere, dreaming, making everybody think she's actually remembering the whole story as a memory of hers. And then, she starts picturing all the wonderful details, real details of things she just made up for her daughters. Her voice has the heat of a beautiful heart, of a smart mind and a dreamy spirit. She's young again, rejuvenating through these stories of her.
This is how i imagine such stories being passed over because it takes a certain atmosphere to dream with your eyes opened and actually live the story as it's own characters lived it once. It takes so much fantasy to rebuild the whole world in front of you, so much excitement to burst in pure energy, such a pure heart to give life to such pure thoughts...Some of us are blessed with what it takes. My grandma' was too and so my mother and now, so am I...
Before I begin the story, make sure you stay comfortable in your chair, turn on a calm, slow music or just open the window and listen to the wind blowing through the leaves of an old tree. The story you are about to hear was first told long time ago, before you or me ever saw the light of the sun and even before the sun itself exists. This story comes from the deepest of the world and holds secrets bigger than you can imagine! This is the story of the Earth, the Sky and the World Between them. This is the story of young Alur and how she created everything from nothing. Somehow, it's my story and your story...