Title: Remembrance
Summary: Mostly, people remember it as a legend of power and dominance and glory... but as a legend only.

Mostly, people remember it as a legend of power and dominance and glory... but as a legend only. It is well that it is a secret from most of the world, for its heartbreaking beauty and loneliness and memories deserve to remain untouched for all eternity. I can picture it in my head, though it is now long after I have left it: Laputa, wonder of wonders, a great garden that floats high above the Earth in its silence. And sometimes, I yearn to go back. Laputa is a part of me, even as I am a part of the Earth, and though Earth's call keeps my feet on the ground, a part of my soul flies with Laputa.

I can still remember vividly when I first saw the great storm cloud that had surrounded Laputa and shielded it from those who would use it for wrong. Though I had hardly understood my feelings, my heart had leapt at the wonder and mystery that I was being faced with. As a descendant of Laputa's rulers, I now know that the floating city was calling to me, singing in my blood and my soul. At last I could answer that call.

And when Pazu and I had set foot on Laputa for the first time... I had felt the memories as strongly as my own. Sorrow and joy intermingled in a melody that played in the silence and rang throughout the sweet loneliness of the city. And the beautiful sight of Laputa spread out before us took my breath away and made my heartbeat quicken. It didn't matter what we'd gone through to get there… I suddenly knew that I was very glad to have found this place at last.

In the throne room with Muska, my heart had broken twice. Once when Pazu - dear, sweet Pazu - had asked me to tell him the Spell of Destruction. And again when we had actually spoken it. I no longer felt fear for my own life, but I knew that Pazu did not deserve to die. And neither did Laputa. The floating city, once so great and powerful and deadly, had become a paradise that would exist long after all paradise on the Earth was lost. And as the city had crumbled beneath us, I wept for Pazu, and I wept for Laputa.

My heart had mended, expanded with great joy, when I realized that not only were Pazu and I alive, but Laputa was alive as well. Its technology, all that had made it a world power and a weapon of destruction, had fallen into the sea; but the tree, the garden, the robot that cared for it, all the tiny animals… they lived on above us, as the roots spread out around us and held us safely in their loving grasp. I could see the whole world below us, as Laputa began to rise higher and higher, a monument to memories and a testimony to great beauty and hope.

And when Pazu and I had flown away, I watched Laputa float higher into the sky, until it was distant and dim, and at last I could see it no longer. And though my happiness at its survival was great, I felt the pain of loss keenly then. I had known it only a short time, but it claimed me as surely as the Earth did. The feeling of being torn faded after time, yet there will always be that tiny part of my soul hidden away in Laputa forever.

I know it is still out there, somewhere, too high for humans to see, but living always in the sky, where we were once drawn as our ancestors were. The sky has claimed us as well, as Laputa is a testament to. Like the freedom and curiosity that it represents, it leads the human race to move about the Earth, always searching for that freedom that we know, in our secret hearts, lies solely with the sky. I have felt that freedom before, on Laputa, and every day my heart remembers that beautiful floating city. Once a wonder of technology and magic, almost used to dominate the world once more, it has become a distant memory, largely unknown to the people of the world. And it should stay that way, for things of beauty and mystery are ever more beautiful when they are protected from the corruptibility of greed and want. Laputa's beauty will live on untouched long after I am gone from this world, and that in itself is a cause for great joy and happiness.