Page 1 of 1
Sebastian Michaels
Cosmic Horror & Folklore Author
by Maren Voss
Chapter 1
Abstract ======= The question is not if the heavens mirror us, but how often they remember. Last winter, a pattern surfaced above the northern ridge, a bear of fractured stars, jaws bright with iron, spine bent toward the pole like a frozen tide. The locals called it Ursa Vehrin. I call it a confession. Field Notes ======= I charted its rise over seven nights. Each dawn the soil beneath my camp shifted, as though something enormous had turned in its sleep. Compass needles wandered. My ink refused to dry. The river under Vehrin thickened with light. When I compared the pattern to terrestrial faults, a perfect echo surfaced: twelve miles of canyon wall, each bend identical to the curve of the bear’s neck. The strata itself glittered faintly under ultraviolet. Not reflection. Reaction. Methodology ======= Samples collected at intervals of moonfall. Each stone hummed when warmed by hand. Spectral analysis returned frequencies consistent with stellar residue. I am told such data are impossible. I have learned to distrust the word impossible. Discussion ======= If constellations are maps of influence, Ursa Vehrin is no mythic compass. It is a wound. A reminder that sky and soil share the same bloodstream. I watched the bear set behind the western ridge, and the ground trembled softly, as though the stars had exhaled through it. Birds did not return that morning. Their absence felt like measurement. Conclusion ======= Correlation may not equal causation, yet correlation keeps whispering my name. I suspect the heavens are not distant, only inverted, their light the underside of our own shadows. Further observation required. I will continue the study until Ursa Vehrin moves again, or until I do.