Remake of my old drawing from 2014 (I just slightly edited/overpained it)

Two young brothers, wandering through Narrasteaf-Vaan, the endless cold desert. Personal and dear memories of my world.

«It was always cold and empty there, but the cold could never hurt us. We were part of this land, its sons, just as white, cold, lonely and empty as it is. We didn’t know the words, didn’t know love, hate and passion, doomed to wander and cling only to ourselves and each other. If one of us felt hurt and sad, the second was always nearby, but there was no one else to see and hear us, and be seen and heard by us.

I don't know how and why we existed. We never seemed to have been born, never lived, and never been able to die. He was silent like a stone, and his thoughts and feelings were hidden so much that even I didn’t know them. But I remember he was kind and caring to me.

I was different, willing to hear and tell, and something called for me. In my thoughts I went so far, froze into ice, drowned in rivers, wandered through the dark forests and got lost again and again. He went far too, but I don't know what call excited his soul. He went -down-, while I aspired somewhere -up-. And at the same time, we were always together, looking for something...»