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Qit Palace

  As the train slows after hours of travel through monotonous expanses, the palace of Qit emerges on the horizon like a vision straight out of the most fantastic tales. Far from the snowy landscapes one might associate with this region, the immense plain unfolds under a summer sky of a brilliant blue, lightly streaked with clouds as delicate as frayed feathers. June has transformed this vast plateau into a sea of tall grasses, a tender green mixed with golden touches, rippling under a warm breeze like lazy waves. The sun, high in the sky, bathes the scene in a warm and generous light, making each blade of grass shimmer as if woven from threads of gold. Here and there, groves of birch trees stand with their slender trunks, a gleaming silver-white, their pale green leaves gently rustling in the wind, adding a delicate note to this living tableau. In the distance, a river lazily meanders through the plain, its clear waters capturing the sun's rays to form a shimmering ribbon, bordered by gracefully swaying reeds.

  The landscape, though flat and open, vibrates with an unexpected summer energy. Fields of wildflowers—scarlet poppies, white daisies, purple lupins—splash the plain with vivid colors, their sweet fragrances wafting through the air, carried by the breeze. Small birds with iridescent red and yellow feathers dart from the grass to dance in the sky, their crystalline songs resonating like a light melody. On the horizon, low hills, almost imperceptible, draw a soft line against the sky, their slopes covered in a mosaic of dark pines and sturdy oaks, adding a subtle depth to this vastness. This sun-drenched, vibrant plain seems to await the palace like a canvas ready to receive a masterpiece.

  And what a masterpiece! Perched on a slight elevation that breaks the monotony of the plain, the palace of Qit stands with an otherworldly majesty, its white stone walls shimmering under the summer light as if carved from a block of pure quartz. The towers, slender and daring, soar towards the sky like polished clay swords, their curved roofs defying gravity with an airy grace. These roofs, covered in tiles of a deep blue veined with flecks of gold and silver, evoke the scales of a sleeping dragon, capturing the sun in an almost blinding glow. From afar, the palace recalls the opulent grandeur of the Chateau de Mor, with its harmonious proportions and carefully designed gardens, but its more slender and ethereal silhouette also evokes the immaculate towers of Neuwanstin, as if a legendary architect had fused these inspirations to create a timeless wonder. Every detail—the curves of the arches, the patterns carved into the stone, the metallic reflections of the ornaments—seems to whisper an ancient story, a magic born from the encounter between man and dream.

  As the train approaches, the splendor of the palace is further revealed. The hanging gardens that adorn its terraces overflow with lush vegetation adapted to summer: climbing vines with tender green leaves, blooming jasmines exuding an intoxicating fragrance, and climbing roses whose red and white petals cascade like garlands. Fountains, carved from rose-veined marble, murmur softly, their jets of water shimmering in the sun and casting fleeting rainbows in the warm air. Between these terraces, white marble columns rise, their surfaces engraved with delicate arabesques—intertwined floral motifs, geometric stars, silhouettes of mythical creatures—that capture the light and play with the shadows in a hypnotic visual ballet. Exotic palm trees, incongruous in this northern plain, stand proudly alongside birches and pines, their emerald fronds contrasting with the darker foliage of the local trees, while masses of peonies, lilies, and lavenders border the paths, their vibrant colors rivaling the gleaming stone of the palace.

  The outer walls, immense and imposing, are an open-air gallery. Grand frescoes cover them, depicting the myths and history of Qit with striking vividness: heroes riding winged horses through tumultuous skies, battles against dragons with obsidian scales, royal banquets under sparkling constellations. The colors—deep blues, brilliant golds, blood reds—seem to leap from the stone, as if the scenes could come to life at any moment. The main doors, massive yet refined, are carved from a dark wood—perhaps black oak or ebony—and adorned with intricate wrought iron patterns: intertwined spirals, ancient symbols, stylized phoenixes, and wolves. These doors, true works of art, open onto a world where every stone, every curve, every sculpted detail seems imbued with the past grandeur of this immense kingdom, inviting visitors to a respectful silence in the face of such magnificence.

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  Entering the palace of Qit is like stepping into a universe where luxury and beauty intertwine in a symphony of light, colors, and textures. The entrance hall opens before them, vast and dazzling, with a floor of immaculate marble streaked with veins of gold and silver that shine like rivers of molten metal under the daylight. The ceiling, of dizzying height, is a celestial canvas: frescoes in deep hues—sapphire blues, carmine reds, flaming golds—depict mythical scenes of the kingdom, Nordic deities hurling lightning from golden chariots, warriors battling ice giants under auroras painted with striking precision. Crystal chandeliers, suspended like captive stars, cast prismatic glimmers on the walls and floor, giving the impression of walking through a starry sky in broad daylight.

  The corridors, lined with columns sculpted with almost supernatural finesse, stretch out in long golden perspectives reminiscent of the galleries of Versailles. Each column is a work of art in its own right, engraved with intertwined floral motifs—wild roses, sinuous ivy—and fantastic creatures with eyes inlaid with semi-precious stones: amethysts, topazes, emeralds. Ancient runes, barely visible, run along the bases, whispering forgotten secrets to those who know how to read them. The walls are draped with silky hangings, some embroidered with gold and silver threads depicting court scenes or dreamlike landscapes—misty forests, lakes shimmering under the moon—others painted in an oriental style, with dragons with shimmering scales and phoenixes rising from stylized flames. In places, mosaics inspired by southern palaces shimmer under the soft light of suspended lanterns, their colored tesserae—turquoise, coral, jade—forming geometric patterns that dance on the polished tiles of the floor.

  The salons follow one another, each offering a unique atmosphere, like worlds encased within the palace. One is paneled with lacquered black and gold wood, adorned with natural scenes: pink cherry blossoms bursting against misty mountains, peaceful rivers bordered by bamboo. Screens painted with white cranes and delicate lotuses diffuse a soft light, while suspended paper lanterns add a warm glow. Another salon gleams with gilding and immense mirrors that capture the glow of candles in an infinite play of reflections, creating an illusion of endless depth. Plush purple velvet armchairs, marquetry tables inlaid with mother-of-pearl, and sumptuous rugs woven with floral and animal motifs—roaring lions, slender deer—invite silent contemplation.

  The interior gardens, true oases of serenity, blend the traditions of Marivald and Kaz with perfect harmony. White marble fountains, sculpted with leaf and wave motifs, murmur a crystalline melody, their jets dancing in the sun before falling into basins where orange, black, and silver koi carp swim, their slow movements captivating the eye. Dark wood pergolas, draped with mauve wisteria and virgin vines, perfume the air with sweet scents, while pebbled paths wind between groves of pink camellias, purple rhododendrons, and golden azaleas, offering shady nooks where sculpted stone benches invite daydreaming.

  The private apartments, reserved for guests of honor, are jewels of luxury. The bedrooms feature canopied beds draped in richly hued silks—deep emerald, brilliant sapphire, fiery ruby—and balconies opening onto infinite views of the sun-drenched plain, where the summer sky seems to stretch endlessly. The bathrooms, carved from pink-veined marble, exude essences of jasmine and sandalwood, with bathtubs carved from stone and golden faucets shaped like swans with outspread wings. Arched windows, framed by gilded moldings, let in a soft light that caresses the embroidery of the hangings and the sculpted details, giving each room an almost ethereal aura, as if suspended in time.

  Finally, the great throne room crowns this splendor. An immense dome, painted with celestial frescoes—sparkling constellations, shooting comets, silver moons—overlooks a mosaic floor depicting ancient maps of Qit and its empire, each region delineated by lines of gold and silver. The throne, carved from black wood inlaid with precious stones—blazing rubies, deep emeralds, starry sapphires—stands with an intimidating majesty, a symbol of the kingdom's power and wealth. Behind it, a colossal tapestry, woven from gold and silk threads, tells the story of Qit, from its mythical origins to its imperial heyday, each scene embroidered with a precision that brings the heroes and landscapes to life.

  Exploring the palace, each room, each corridor, each garden seems to whisper a story, a fragment of Qit's glorious past. It is not just a building; it is a living monument, a sanctuary where history, culture, and magnificence intertwine in an enchanting harmony. The purity of its lines, the richness of its materials—marble, gold, silk, precious woods—and the elegance of its gardens create an atmosphere that is both royal and mystical, a place where one feels both humble and privileged, as if legends come to life before their eyes.

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