{"id":818,"date":"2025-11-15T16:37:22","date_gmt":"2025-11-15T16:37:22","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/marionesbooks.nl\/?page_id=818"},"modified":"2025-11-17T01:26:46","modified_gmt":"2025-11-17T01:26:46","slug":"introductie-atlasmino-saga-deel-l","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/marionesbooks.nl\/en\/boeken\/introductie-atlasmino-saga-deel-l\/","title":{"rendered":"Introductie Atlasmino Saga Deel l"},"content":{"rendered":"<!-- Paneel-systeem (CSS + Script) -->\n<style>\n  .paneel { display: none; }\n  .paneel.active { display: block; }\n\n  .about {\n    --fg:#111;\n    --muted:#444;\n    --bg:#fafafa;\n    --accent:#000;\n    font-family:system-ui,-apple-system,\"Inter\",Segoe UI,Roboto,Arial,sans-serif;\n    color:var(--fg);\n    background:var(--bg);\n    border:1px solid #eaeaea;\n    border-radius:16px;\n    padding:clamp(16px,3vw,28px);\n    max-width:72ch;\n    margin:0 auto 2.5rem auto;\n    line-height:1.6;\n    text-align:center;\n  }\n\n  .about h1 {\n    margin:0 0 1.5rem;\n    font-size:clamp(1.8rem,3.4vw,2.4rem);\n    letter-spacing:-0.015em;\n    text-align:center;\n  }\n\n  .about p {\n    margin:0 0 0.9rem;\n    color:var(--fg);\n    text-align:center;\n  }\n\n  .subtitle { font-size:0.95rem; color:var(--muted); }\n  .authors { font-weight:600; }\n  .imprint { margin-top:1rem; font-weight:600; }\n  .tagline { margin-top:1.2rem; font-style:italic; }\n  .series { margin-top:1.4rem; font-weight:600; }\n\n  .nav-btn {\n    display:inline-block;\n    margin:0.4rem 0;\n    background:#000;\n    color:#fff;\n    padding:0.7rem 1.4rem;\n    border-radius:999px;\n    text-decoration:none;\n    font-weight:600;\n    font-size:0.95rem;\n    transition:background 0.25s ease, transform 0.25s ease;\n    box-shadow:0 4px 10px rgba(0,0,0,0.20);\n    cursor:pointer;\n  }\n\n  .nav-btn:hover {\n    background:#222;\n    transform:translateY(-2px);\n  }\n\n  .cover-img {\n    width:25%;\n    border-radius:12px;\n    margin:0.8rem auto 1.4rem auto;\n    display:block;\n    box-shadow:0 8px 22px rgba(0,0,0,0.25);\n  }\n<\/style>\n\n<script>\n  function openPaneel(id) {\n    document.querySelectorAll('.paneel').forEach(p => p.classList.remove('active'));\n    document.getElementById(id).classList.add('active');\n    window.scrollTo({ top: 0, behavior: 'smooth' });\n  }\n<\/script>\n\n\n\n<!-- PANEEL 1 \u2014 Cover -->\n<section class=\"about paneel active\" id=\"paneel-1\">\n\n  <img decoding=\"async\" src=\"https:\/\/marionesbooks.nl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/11\/Atlasmino_Saga_deel_1_Cover.webp\"\n       alt=\"Atlasmino Saga Deel I Cover\" \n       class=\"cover-img\">\n\n<p>\n  <a href=\"https:\/\/marionesbooks.nl\/en\/boeken\/atlasmino-saga-deel-l\/\" class=\"nav-btn\">\u2190 Back to Saga<\/a>\n  <a onclick=\"openPaneel('paneel-2')\" class=\"nav-btn\">Go to Title Page \u2192<\/a>\n<\/p>\n\n\n<\/section>\n\n\n\n<!-- PANEEL 2 \u2014 Titelpagina -->\n<section class=\"about paneel\" id=\"paneel-2\">\n\n  <h1 id=\"atlasmino-title\">Atlasmino<\/h1>\n\n  <p class=\"subtitle\">By<\/p>\n\n  <p class=\"authors\">\n    Mario van Loon &amp;<br>\n    Younes Chelaghmi\n  <\/p>\n\n  <p><em>Edition 2025<\/em><\/p>\n\n  <p class=\"imprint\">Mariones Books\u00ae<\/p>\n\n  <p class=\"tagline\">Writing is my survival, Writing is my life<\/p>\n\n  <p>Discover the world of <strong>Atlasmino<\/strong><\/p>\n\n  <p class=\"series\">Part I of the Atlasmino Saga<\/p>\n\n  <p>\n    <a onclick=\"openPaneel('paneel-1')\" class=\"nav-btn\">\u2190Back to Front Cover<\/a>\n    <a onclick=\"openPaneel('paneel-3')\" class=\"nav-btn\">Go to Copyright \u2192<\/a>\n  <\/p>\n\n<\/section>\n\n\n\n<!-- PANEEL 3 \u2014 Copyright -->\n<section class=\"about paneel\" id=\"paneel-3\">\n\n  <h1>Copyright<\/h1>\n\n  <p>\u00a9 2025 Mario van Loon &amp; Younes Chelaghmi<\/p>\n\n  <p>First digital edition, 2025<br>\n  Published by Mariones Books\u00ae<\/p>\n\n  <p><strong>ISBN:<\/strong> 9789083620701<\/p>\n\n  <p>info@marionesbooks.nl<br>www.marionesbooks.nl<\/p>\n\n  <p>\n    Mariones Books\u00ae is a registered trademark with the Benelux Office for Intellectual Property (BOIP),\nprotected under classes 9, 16, and 41.\n  <\/p>\n\n  <p>\n    <a onclick=\"openPaneel('paneel-2')\" class=\"nav-btn\">\u2190 Back<\/a>\n    <a onclick=\"openPaneel('paneel-4')\" class=\"nav-btn\">Go to Disclaimer \u2192<\/a>\n  <\/p>\n\n<\/section>\n\n\n\n<!-- PANEEL 4 \u2014 Disclaimer -->\n<section class=\"about paneel\" id=\"paneel-4\">\n\n  <h1>Disclaimer<\/h1>\n\n  <p class=\"translation-block\">All characters, names, and events in this book are entirely fictitious.\nAny resemblance to actual persons, living or deceased, or to real events, is purely coincidental.\nReferences to mythological or spiritual figures are used solely as literary symbols and metaphors.\nThis work is intended as fiction and as an invitation to reflection, not as doctrine or factual representation.<\/p>\n\n  <p>\n    <a onclick=\"openPaneel('paneel-3')\" class=\"nav-btn\">\u2190 Back<\/a>\n    <a onclick=\"openPaneel('paneel-5')\" class=\"nav-btn\">Go to Foreword \u2192<\/a>\n  <\/p>\n\n<\/section>\n\n\n\n<!-- PANEEL 5 \u2014 Voorwoord -->\n<section class=\"about paneel\" id=\"paneel-5\">\n\n  <h1>Foreword<\/h1>\n\n  <p>\n  This book did not arise from a single moment, but from a long journey.\nConversations that ran deep, silences that spoke louder than words, and memories that claimed their own place together formed the foundations of Atlasmino.\n  <\/p>\n\n  <p>\n  Atlasmino is not a character who stands far from us.\nHe is a mirror, a symbol of searching and growing.\nHis path reflects the struggle of every human being:\nthe passage from youth to adulthood,\nthe battle between light and shadow,\nand the courage to choose one\u2019s own path \u2013\neven when that path is still unknown.\n  <\/p>\n\n  <p>\n  This is not a traditional story with fixed lines or clear answers. It is a journey of layers, where questions matter more than certainties, and where each chapter is an invitation to pause for a moment.\n  <\/p>\n\n  <p>\n  We hope you read this book with an open heart \u2014 not to understand everything completely, but to be moved.\nFor Atlasmino does not live only within these pages \u2014 he lives in the dreams, doubts, and memories of each of us.\n  <\/p>\n\n  <p>\n    <a onclick=\"openPaneel('paneel-4')\" class=\"nav-btn\">\u2190 Back<\/a>\n    <a onclick=\"openPaneel('paneel-6')\" class=\"nav-btn\">Go to Table of Contents \u2192<\/a>\n  <\/p>\n\n<\/section>\n\n\n\n<!-- PANEEL 6 \u2014 Inhoudsopgave -->\n<section class=\"about paneel\" id=\"paneel-6\">\n\n  <h1>Table of Contents<\/h1>\n\n  <p>I \u2014 De Jeugd van Atlasmino<\/p>\n  <p>II \u2014 De Overgang<\/p>\n  <p>III \u2014 De Treinreis<\/p>\n\n  <p>\n    <a onclick=\"openPaneel('paneel-5')\" class=\"nav-btn\">\u2190 Back<\/a>\n    <a onclick=\"openPaneel('paneel-7')\" class=\"nav-btn\">Go to Opening \u2192<\/a>\n  <\/p>\n\n<\/section>\n\n\n\n<!-- PANEEL 7 \u2014 Opening -->\n<section class=\"about paneel\" id=\"paneel-7\">\n\n  <h1>Atlasmino \u2013 Opening<\/h1>\n\n  <p>\n    This book is not a collection of loose words.\nIt is a journey you do not make outward, but inward.\nNot a path of miles, but of layers.\nNot a quest toward a distant horizon, but toward the core of memory.\nAtlasmino is not a hero far away, but a mirror close by.\nHis story is an invitation to pause, to listen,\nand to recognize something within yourself that may have long remained hidden.\nEverything you read here is meant as a key\u2014\nnot as a truth you must accept,\nbut as a gate opening toward new questions and insights.\nWelcome to the journey of Atlasmino.\n  <\/p>\n\n  <p>\n    <a onclick=\"openPaneel('paneel-6')\" class=\"nav-btn\">\u2190 Back<\/a>\n    <a onclick=\"openPaneel('paneel-8')\" class=\"nav-btn\">Ga naar Hoofdstuk I \u2192<\/a>\n  <\/p>\n\n<\/section>\n\n\n\n<!-- PANEEL 8 \u2014 Hoofdstuk I -->\n<section class=\"about paneel\" id=\"paneel-8\">\n\n  <h1>I \u2014 De Jeugd van Atlasmino<\/h1>\n\n  <p>\n  The youth of Atlasmino was like a river that constantly changed its course.\nHis family moved from city to city, never staying long enough for roots to grow.\nEach place brought new streets, different sounds, unfamiliar faces.\nFor many children that might have been a burden,\nyet he always found something extraordinary within it.\nIn unfamiliar surroundings he recognised patterns,\nas if he instinctively understood that change itself was a teacher.\n  <\/p>\n\n  <p>\n  At school, he stood out \u2014 not because he worked the hardest,\nbut because he noticed what others overlooked.\nWhile classmates practised sums or grammar,\nhe saw how the winter light fell through the windows,\nhow chalk left a trail of dust,\nhow a voice trembled ever so slightly while reading aloud.\nThat attentiveness made him a pupil teachers never forgot.\n  <\/p>\n\n  <p>\n  During breaks, the playground of Kristalval School became a stage.\nHe did not need to be the strongest \u2014 he wanted to be the creator.\nHe invented rules, conjured worlds in which ordinary stones became golden coins.\nWherever he looked, mirrors appeared in which children recognised their own dreams.\nThey listened to him \u2014 not because he demanded it,\nbut because his imagination created a space where everyone felt welcome:\na natural kind of leadership, not forceful, but inviting.\n  <\/p>\n\n  <p>\n  Alongside that playful side, he discovered his creative soul early on.\nSinging, acting, storytelling \u2014 it seemed to flow from him effortlessly.\nOnce he stepped onto a stage, no matter how small, his shyness vanished.\nThere, beneath the gentle glow of lamplight\nor candles burning like winter\u2019s warmth,\nhe felt at home.\nHe dreamed of one day creating a world\nwhere others could lose themselves in imagination as he did.\n  <\/p>\n\n  <p>\n  Yet in silence, he carried another side within him.\nHe could lose hours in thought, staring at the sky\nor at a wall that to others seemed empty \u2014\nto him, windows to invisible worlds.\nHe struggled with the slowness of the everyday,\nwith the dull assignments his teachers gave.\nWhy, he wondered, should I imprison my mind in numbers and rules,\nwhen my head is filled with worlds no one has yet seen?\n  <\/p>\n\n  <p>\n  He remained a boy of contrasts \u2014 lively yet still, creative yet lazy,\njoyful yet shy \u2014 as though two forces lived within him,\neach alternately strengthening and resisting the other.\nIn that tension lay his uniqueness.\nHe was still young, yet within him already lived a depth few possessed.\n  <\/p>\n\n  <p>\n  Perhaps he did not yet understand it himself,\nbut in that search \u2014 that balancing between light and shadow \u2014\na promise was hidden.\nNot merely a life, but a destiny,\none that would one day make others pause,\nas if in him they saw a mirror of their own hidden dreams.\n  <\/p>\n\n  <p>\n    <a onclick=\"openPaneel('paneel-7')\" class=\"nav-btn\">\u2190 Back<\/a>\n    <a onclick=\"openPaneel('paneel-9')\" class=\"nav-btn\">Ga naar Hoofdstuk II \u2192<\/a>\n  <\/p>\n\n<\/section>\n\n\n\n<!-- PANEEL 9 \u2014 Hoofdstuk II -->\n<section class=\"about paneel\" id=\"paneel-9\">\n\n  <h1>II \u2014 De Overgang<\/h1>\n\n  <p>\n    Childhood lay behind him like a dreamlike landscape slowly fading away.\nHe stood at the edge of something new, though he did not yet know what it would be.\nHis days felt different: the air seemed lighter, the colours sharper.\nIn the stillness of his thoughts, a soft calling drew him forward.\n  <\/p>\n\n  <p>\n    On a crisp spring day, he stepped into a small exhibition.\nNot a grand museum of marble halls and endless visitors,\nbut a modest room filled with paintings, masks, and sculptures from distant worlds.\nFor most, they were objects behind glass;\nfor him, they were windows \u2014 gateways to something unknown\n  <\/p>\n\n  <p>\n    He stopped before a canvas where Celestra rose above a strange landscape.\nIt seemed to breathe, alive and whispering.\nSomething in that light recognised him \u2014\nas though it shone not only upon the painted land,\nbut also within the world inside his own being.\n  <\/p>\n\n  <p>\n    The others passed quickly by,\nbut he remained, rooted to the floor.\nThe longer he looked, the more the painting enveloped him.\nIt was no longer seeing, but receiving \u2014\na message without words, a summons without a voice.\n  <\/p>\n\n  <p>\n    From that day on, everything changed.\nA quiet restlessness took hold of him;\nnot sharp or painful,\nbut like a gentle current urging him onward.\nThe familiar lost its glow.\nThe city, the school, the games \u2014 all felt like clothes grown too small.\n  <\/p>\n\n  <p>\n    He spoke to no one about it,\nyet in silence a decision began to take form.\nHe no longer wished to wait for life to unfold on its own.\nHe longed to travel, to look beyond borders,\nto discover whether there truly existed a place\nwhere he belonged.\n  <\/p>\n\n  <p>\n    And so the transition began \u2014 silent, but irreversible.\nAn inner train had departed, bound for no known destination.\nFor him, it was the first step toward a world\ngreater, wider, and more mysterious\nthan he had ever dared to dream.\n  <\/p>\n\n  <p>\n    <a onclick=\"openPaneel('paneel-8')\" class=\"nav-btn\">\u2190 Terug naar Hoofdstuk I<\/a>\n    <a onclick=\"openPaneel('paneel-10')\" class=\"nav-btn\">Ga naar Hoofdstuk III \u2192<\/a>\n  <\/p>\n\n<\/section>\n\n\n\n<!-- PANEEL 10 \u2014 Hoofdstuk III -->\n<section class=\"about paneel\" id=\"paneel-10\">\n\n  <h1>III \u2014 De Treinreis<\/h1>\n\n  <p>\n    The first light shimmered in the air.\nHe stood on the platform, with no coins in his pocket,\nno bread in his case,\nbut a heart beating faster than the rhythm of the rails.\nBefore him waited the train \u2014 vast and dark,\na promise of motion.\nHe knew he was not invited aboard,\nyet something within whispered: step in \u2014 the journey will not wait.\n  <\/p>\n\n  <p>\n    The doors closed behind him with a sigh.\nAt once he felt that this would be no ordinary ride.\nThe seats smelled of dust and adventure,\nthe windows reflected a world about to glide past.\n  <\/p>\n\n  <p>\n    He had no ticket, but he had a dream.\nAnd dreams, he thought, are sometimes stronger than all the rules combined.\nStill, when he heard the footsteps of the conductor approaching,\nhis heart began to race.\n  <\/p>\n\n  <p>\n    The man in the cap walked down the corridor \u2014\nhis gaze sharp, yet tired from so many faces.\nAtlasmino looked out the window,\npretending that the clouds were his greatest concern.\nWhen the conductor stopped beside him and asked softly for his ticket,\nhe smiled disarmingly, drew a deep breath and said:\n\u201cI\u2019m sorry, sir\u2026 I have no ticket. But I do have a reason: I\u2019m following a dream.\u201d\n  <\/p>\n\n  <p class=\"translation-block\">The man studied him \u2014 stern at first, then surprised.\nA boy without money,\nbut with eyes burning like stars \u2014\nthat was not something he saw every day.\nThere was a silence, then a sigh.\n\u201cStay where you are,\u201d he said at last. \u201cBut act as if you were never here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n  <p>\n    De man keek hem aan, eerst streng, toen verbaasd.\n    Een jongen zonder geld, maar met ogen die brandden als sterren \u2013\n    dat zag hij niet elke dag.\n    Er viel een stilte, gevolgd door een zucht.\n  <\/p>\n\n  <p>\n    \u201cStay where you are,\u201d he said at last. \u201cBut act as if you were never here.\u201d\n  <\/p>\n\n  <p>\n    Gratefully, Atlasmino nodded.\nAn invisible door had opened.\nThe train gathered speed.\nOutside, meadows swept by,\ntrees bowed as if in greeting,\nrivers shimmered like liquid light.\n  <\/p>\n\n  <p>\n    Each bend brought new faces:\nan old woman offering him bread,\na child who laughed and asked where he was headed,\na traveller who spoke of distant mountains.\n  <\/p>\n\n  <p>\n    He listened, watched, and absorbed it all.\nNo longer an intruder, but part of a greater whole.\nThe train was not merely a vehicle;\nit was a living river of stories,\nand he drifted along its current.\n  <\/p>\n\n  <p>\n    When evening fell and the sky turned orange,\nhe knew this journey would take him farther\nthan any map could ever promise.\n  <\/p>\n\n  <p>\n    He had begun \u2014 at last, truly begun.\nThe rattle of the rails became a melody,\nand he smiled.\nFor even without a ticket, without food, without certainty,\nhe already carried the most precious thing of all:\nthe beginning of his dream.\n  <\/p>\n\n  <p>\n    <a onclick=\"openPaneel('paneel-9')\" class=\"nav-btn\">\u2190 Terug naar Hoofdstuk II<\/a>\n    <a href=\"https:\/\/marionesbooks.nl\/en\/boeken\/atlasmino-saga-deel-l\/\" class=\"nav-btn\">\u2190 Back to Saga<\/a>\n  <\/p>\n\n<\/section>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>\u2190 Terug naar Saga Ga naar Titelpagina \u2192 Atlasmino Door Mario van Loon &amp; Younes Chelaghmi Uitgave 2025 Mariones Books\u00ae Writing is my survival, Writing is my life Ontdek de wereld van Atlasmino Deel I van de Atlasmino Saga \u2190 Terug naar Voorkaft Ga naar Copyright \u2192 Copyright \u00a9 2025 Mario van Loon &amp; Younes [&hellip;]<\/p>","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":20,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"page-no-title","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-818","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/marionesbooks.nl\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/818","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/marionesbooks.nl\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/marionesbooks.nl\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/marionesbooks.nl\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/marionesbooks.nl\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=818"}],"version-history":[{"count":21,"href":"https:\/\/marionesbooks.nl\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/818\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":893,"href":"https:\/\/marionesbooks.nl\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/818\/revisions\/893"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/marionesbooks.nl\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/20"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/marionesbooks.nl\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=818"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}