At the mercy of stormy skies, we challenged the fury of the waves until, won by tiredness, we accepted the inevitable shipwreck by landing on mysterious hidden banks. Lost and hopeful, we are the subtle wooded breath that flies the curtain of ancestral mists. Earth. The mineral shadow of dizzying cliffs is outlined as a mirage, wrapped in a transcendent light. The icy memory of the Arctic currents urges us to face the impervious rise, beyond a rocky wall consumed by the wind and salt. Once to the summit, the incredible is revealed in the majesty of a secular coniferous forest; Gigantel trunks stand out as emerald skyscrapers, prostheses towards once sculpted in the spectroscopic reflections of the crystals. Strewed by that glow, we cross the boundaries of the lost kingdom of Agarthi on a dark velvet of roots and mosses.