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  • #370

    — The legend of Mævel — (Part III)

    When the blue fox had disappeared, deep into the woods, Mævel was left wondering if all of that had only been a dream. Perhaps it was just a dream, and something that would make her parents raise their shoulders in dismay.
    Especially since she had lost their gift carelessly they would say, the little pearl white ribbon…

    She picked up the clothes that were left hanging to dry up in the wind, and came back to the little house.

    Of course, her father Jorg noticed that she was not wearing the ribbon, but he was not much of a question asker, and things were or were not, and analyzing them was unnecessary for him. But of course, Ilga noticed it too, and she felt sad for poor Jorg who had endured so many sacrifices to buy the little ribbon that Mævel was no longer wearing. She wanted an explanation! Was it no longer to Mævel’s tastes, had Mævel lost it?

    So Mævel, who could not lie to anybody, told them her encounter with Blohmrik, the cursed god in the woods, in the shape of a wounded blue fox… and at each of her words, was seeing their faces more and more disconcerted.
    Their poor girl, who was already so different, had completely lost it,… ribbon and all that was left of common sense in her.

    So they locked her up in the bedroom, that she was now occupying alone, as all of her brothers and sisters had left. Just to save her from herself, and see if that would help her gain some more solid sense of reality.

    Mævel understood her parents, but she was deeply contrite that they could not understand what she had lived. Mævel was still doubting the reality of her meeting the blue fox, so she asked for some sign from the Gods before going to sleep, to see clearly.

    That night, Mævel dreamt of a dark-haired young man with a white diadem1 around his head, dressed in a cerulean blue tunic and wearing a sword. He was enshrouded in a warm light and as she took the hand he was extending, they were carried away by a springing scented wind into a meadow of multicoloured flowers, some of which she had not even known could exist. She had felt at home.
    When she woke up, in the middle of the night, Mævel was transfixed by the beautiful soothing dream. She could not remember much more, but he had told her something. That there was deep magic in her, and it would help her find her true home, but that she would have to gain back her true name from the Elder God who had took it from her.

    She quickly took her decision. She knew she had to search for the blue fox in the forest. But how could she escape the locked bedroom? She was starting to feel desperate again, but she remembered that there was some magic in her, and how she had felt it deeply true in her dream.
    As she was focusing on the warm expanding feeling of her dream, an old rusty key materialized in her hand.

    1 diadem: [ ˈdī-ə-ˌdem (dəm) ] from Greek diadēma, from diadein to bind around; akin to Sanskrit dāman rope — was originally a white ribbon, ending in a knot and two strips that were placed often on the shoulders, that surrounded the head of the king to denote his authority.

    #337

    You’re not serious, are you? Sanso raised an eyebrow at Arona (who had mysteriously materialized a baby in her arms, in the blink of an eye)

    You’re calling it YIKES? Oh well, fair enough….

    In a puff of smoke, a Crayola fairy appeared in front of them.

    Yes? she said, You called? I’m Fairy Nuf…that’s fun spelled backwards, in case you’re wondering how I got here.

    Sanso didn’t really understand what was going on, but had an urge to materialize a baby too.

    ~~~

    Thankfully the urge soon passed and he said to Fairy Nuf politely, There must be a mistake, but thank you for calling. I hope it didn’t inconvenience you.

    Call me anytime, I’m available 24/7, sweetie….and in an puff of smoke, she was gone.

    #359

    New Venice, year 2101

    In the waiting hall, Bart was pacing the floor recklessly. They were having their first baby, but the doctors had hushed him out, because there were some complications…
    All he could do was wait.
    They were one of the first couple to have tested the new program that allowed same-sex couples to procreate without requiring the assistance of a third-party so to speak. In fact, it had been hypothesized to be possible a long time ago already. Well, theoretically… because the most challenging part had been to bring acceptance to the people, as the old beliefs were still alive in a few moribund activist groups. But what,… nature was doing even more exotic things in the realm of creatures…

    Now he was thinking of Oscar, who had chosen to be the bearer of the child —a girl that would be… will be, mentally corrected Bart to himself. Funny thing about genetics was that male-male couples could have either girls or boys, but female-female couples could only have girls. Only because the male “Y” chromosome was carried by men.
    It had been a painstakingly long subject of discussion among scientists and philosophers as to the unbalance it would create, but well, for the time being, it was the chosen design for our human natures.
    As long as new ways of bypassing this restriction had not been invented, better enjoy it than stretching one’s mind around it.

    Looking at the window which showed the stilted structures above the waters, Bart was thinking how it was all an incredible story… What were the probabilities for that to happen?
    Bart couldn’t help but feel grateful for all of his blessings.

    At the same moment, the big breasted nurse appeared at the door crying with a large smile “it’s a healthy girl!”
    Bart burst into the room.

    :fleuron:

    They had already decided how she would be called. Midora, they had agreed.

    When he entered, Oscar Wrick’s young face was tired and sprinkled with beads of perspiration, but he had the happiest look on his face. He was still feeling a bit self-conscious about the changes the pregnancy had generated in his body, but for now he was all absorbed by the little breathing thing resting in his arms.

    After a warm embrace, Bartholomew Jobsworth thought that he should spread the good news to the family, at least to his mother, dear sparkling Indy and Bart’s parents, Eugenia and Cuthbert. He also had felt the presence of his Dad, Bill, during his wait and was deeply thankful for all of their support.

    #356

    Oh said Arona. All of a sudden she knew she had to be somewhere. She handed the sabulmantium to Sanso.

    She walked, and then she stopped and she waited.

    She did not have to wait long before they appeared. A stocky dwarf, whose presence, despite his small stature, immediately inspired respect. He was accompanied by a young woman, tall and graceful, with shiny golden hair. She was very pretty, but it was the peaceful expression on her face which really caught Arona’s attention. The woman was cradling an infant in her arms.

    Palani, the dwarf, smiled at Arona and held out some food for her. Some aromatic orange fruit she had never seen before, however she was so hungry by now she devoured it greedily.

    Your magic is powerful, said Palani. Arona wanted to deny it, but found she couldn’t. So she just nodded.

    The woman smiled. Here she said, holding the infant out to Arona. This is for you.

    Caught off guard Arona took the baby.

    I really am having the strangest time, she thought. She had no idea what to do with the baby, or why she was the one to look after it. But she held it carefully.

    Wait! she shouted urgently, as they walked away

    Why have you given me this baby. I can’t look after it. Are you coming back? At least tell me what is the baby’s name?

    They didn’t answer.

    Yikes said Arona.

    #318
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Let me show you something, Dory. George reached into a big red and orange and purple kilim carpet bag ( Dory wondered where it had appeared from; she certainly didn’t recall seeing there when they arrived) and pulled out a large sheaf of printed papers. He passed it to Dory.

      Dory read on the first page:
      Chapter 343,482,927,457,299,209,2819,298,357,008,557,057: ‘REMEMBERING
      Blimey, said Dory, Long book!

      George grinned enigmatically and said, Indeed.

      Dory flicked through the pages, reading a bit here and a bit there. Glancing up at George she said, I guess you couldn’t possibly carry the whole book round with you all the time in your carpet bag, the whole book must be enormous!

      Oh, the whole book is always in my bag, he said.

      Really? Dory asked in a disbelieving tone.

      Why yes, of course. ‘It’s all in there somewhere’ he said, and laughed heartily, and a trifle rudely, Dory thought. Yes Dory, the whole book is always in there.

      With a hmpf, Dory returned to scanning the pages. Before long she was overcome with waves of nostalgia and familiarity and deja vu, even a sort of backwards deja vu…a vuja de…Dory snickered to herself…

      Why is this chapter called remembering, George? If I had written this chapter I’d have called it forgetting.

      #317

      Ibn al’ Gruk was weary.
      That lone grake he had seen flying over the desert settlement this morning had baffled him.
      Usually, such creatures where not migrating at this season, and this one was lone too, which was all the more baffling.

      The old gripshawk had seen many things in his life, but this was surely a presage of importance. In the myths of his people, the big colourful birds were once thriving in the desert oasis, where they were thought to have appeared in the Old Times. But having been extensively hunted down as food for the gripshawk tribes, they had moved away, and the balance had been broken.
      It had prompted lots of the tribes to move apart, in search of food and exchanges, and few of them were now still living in the deserts as they did in the old ways. Many of them, for many generations now, had been creating cities on the coast, and the most flourishing one was Chafik’ An, where a traveling portal had been erected by the humans from Lan’Ork to facilitate exchanges and trades.

      All of that, despite his old age (that his long mop of white angora hair under his chin could account for), Ibn al’ Gruk had only heard all of this through the lineage of his ancestors, but he had seen some of the conflicts that had been created, and he understood that change again was in the air.

      He felt like he could weave a new tale to entertain the settlement tonight, and perhaps give them inkling as to the new changes to come.
      For he felt changes were coming, and that they had been in motion already.

      ***

      The night was clear, and lots of people had gathered around the big bonfire. They all loved these regular meetings where everyone would meet and share food, drinks and over all, gaiety.

      He started to drum low deep sounds and cleared his throat.
      A fit of cough got him by surprise, but it was just a hairball that he spat in the fire, which set ablaze immediately, providing some dramatic effect that hushed everyone down.

      “In a mysterious land far far away,” started Ibn al’ Gruk, with a growling voice…

      ***

      Egypt, 2657 B.C.

      Lekshen had dreamt of Set that night. The god had appeared to him in one of his familiar forms, that of a long snouted animal .
      Lekhsen was wondering why the god had requested such a task for him to do, but he was certainly in the perfect position to accomplish such a task.
      Like Set, Lekhsen came from Upper Egypt, the arid land, and he had managed to get a high-ranking responsibility in fertile Lower Egypt as a scribe thanks to the unification efforts of Pharaoh.

      But Pharaoh’s daughter had just died… right after her 10 year old brother, and Pharaoh’s himself felt He would not live much longer.
      Which would mean that the closest male in the family would be likely to get on the throne of Egypt. And that would be bad news for people like him, as the brothers and brothers-in-law of Pharaoh did not appreciate much His policy.

      In the dream, the strange creature had asked him to hide something with the mummy of Pharaoh’s daughter. It had told him people would forget about how Set was fighting for Ra, the Sun, each night that the bark was traveling on the dangerous underworld waters. They would forget, and would demonise him and his people, and he, Lekhsen would have to write the story, and bury it with the Princess. His status would allow him to do it unscathed.

      “Would people ever remember they once were One?” had asked Lekshen to the god.
      “Only you can tell” had the creature answered.

      #298

      The City, year 2257

      Janice had just awoken from a strange dream, where she was watching big round cabbages being harvested in what looked like Quintin’s father garden. They were all firmly rooted on a black irrigation pole across the garden, and people were using strange devices to turn them all delicately and pick them afterwards. In the dream, there were black puppies too, sleeping in the straw of a kind of hut nearby. And she had seen another creature, and had been surprised first because it was unlike anything she had ever met, even in dreams. It was hairless and brown as soft mud, and was hiding in the neighbour’s garden. Then it had crossed and came to play with her…

      Janice was lost in her thoughts strolling on the way to the common dome, when she met Rodney, her father’s friend.
      They had been recently trying with her father Jacob, and also Qixi to connect with their shifting focuses of the Ancients, two centuries and half before their time.
      Some of them, they had found, had been playing a sort of game of story-telling and clue-sowing… (Janice was laughing as her father’s friend, the scientist Arkandin, always insisted on seesawing instead)

      Perhaps her dream was telling her that the crop was ripe, and it was time to harvest some from it. She told her dream to Rodney. All at once, he was quite excited and they started to feel they wanted to chat more freely. So they went into one of the Medraw Caps that was available and soon imagined a comfortable environment for themselves to explore more.

      Janice could hear Al or Quintin complain about how things were getting confusing.
      She tried to convey to both of them that they could be excited about it, as it was expanding their understanding, but they weren’t very receptive.

      ~~~

      Somewhere Al was saying to Becky
      — The more you try to fix it, the more confused I am
      — Hahahahah yes! Becky was answering, I guess so! Ahahahah! Al, what a fabulous dance of confusion we do… The Confundo Tango
      — Ahahah, yes!

      Al started again to moan:
      — So who’s dead, who’s the shapeshifter? Who’s the human, who’s the cat? :-??

      (Rodney was laughing, as for him, he could accept the confusion as much easier, letting him free to wander around!)

      Illi was a woman, a shapeshifter who shape-shifted into a cat, then, she died. Becky was saying (Rodney added mentally “Now, she is disengaged” as he knew that “death” was a confusing word.) She was an archaeologist
      — Okay, that’s cool, that’s what I thought, Al acquiesced. Then thought back of what was said of her and wondered… Anyway, it will probably find a perfect answer …
      Becky nodded
      — I got lost myself when two Illis appeared, and a grip-thing as well
      — Because I didn’t want the grip-thing to be dead! Al couldn’t help but laugh. That would have been too easy, like wiggling out. Not using your imagination within the context of objective imagery to sort out “things”…

      ~~~

      While Rodney and Janice were seeing that their other focuses were kind of stuck in their explanation, they had time freeze and both decided to come back to their “now” to start from their understanding.
      A funny thought had come to Janice, that she shared with Rodney.
      — Oh, the funny thing you know, about Becky having written to Sean
      Rodney nodded. Janice continued:
      — It just appeared in my mind just moments ago, at the same time you (well, Rafaela) inserted into the story of Malvina. That Becky would have been asking Sean something, and that perhaps it would have helped him talk to his father in the future.

      — Well, that Sean is SUCH AN ENIGMA! bumped Rodney a bit excited by the implications.
      — What do you mean? asked Janice, who just remembered that Sean Doran has a cousin named Dorean.
      — Who is he? Where is he? was asking Rodney now.
      Rodney was having a hard time remembering what had been inserted yet in the story about him.

      So Janice manifested the Wrick family tree in front of them, so that he could see better. She started by manifesting an acorn, then threw in on the grass, and it sprung forth in a little sapling with signs hanging from its branches.

      — Well, it’s all in the script, answered Janice, he’s Lord Wrick’s son.
      — Oh boy, I am in trouble again for not keeping up with the facts! Rodney sighed, and laughed…
      Janice laughed “So that you can surprise yourself again!”

      Rodney felt thankful for the sumafiness of Janice who was always prompt to display helpful hallucinations and reminders.

      Janice stopped the growth of the family tree for a moment and started to comment it.
      — See, in Becky’s time of the reality play, Sean is Lord’s Wrick son, and has just lost his wife Margaret, and got his two young children around their 10s.
      — When is Becky’s time then? Rodney wondered, I hadn’t though of that…
      Becky’s time for the reality play is around 2033…
      Then Janice had the tree grow again, and sprout more branches from Sean’s children:
      — …Now, Sean is the grand-father of the twins, except than the twin’s time is around 2057 if it had not changed yet. It’s so carefully woven, but it’s fun how it effortlessly came to fit in.
      TRUST AND ALLOWING AND GOING WITH THE FLOW cried Rodney and Janice in unison, in the realisation of how well all this was.

      Rodney was beginning to remember it all.
      — I just remember the part about Sean, so he is still a bit of a mystery
      — Yes, absolutely
      — We don’t really know do we why Hilarion didn’t mention him
      — Oh, there’s also the Margaret newspaper thing… Janice fumbled in her memory to find the proper link that would display the image of the newspaper cut just at the right of the family tree. Adding with a wink “with more dates to get bearings”
      — Ahahah, I’d love to have pocketfuls of ball bearings said Rodney who manifested a pocketful to distract him from the load of information. OH YES! he cried, I had forgetten about this! What an incredibly HUGE story this is…

      Rodney was squinting his dream eyes
      — So, Sean was into humanitarian effort after 2001…
      — His father actually I think, said Janice. He was a bit too young.
      — Oh OK, I misread, that’s hard to read!

      Then, all of a second, Rodney erupted in an uproarious laugh
      AHAHAHA, I had just forgotten to de-hallucinate these pince-nez spectacles! Now, it is much easier to read!
      Janice was laughing so hard, she thought she would shatter the hallucination with the wobbles of the soundless sounds.
      Then she added:

      Sean is born around 2000, a bit before.
      — OK, maybe he went to help the Tuaregs, Rodney was accessing some information now. Maybe he was the one who put the mummy in the locked room that India found.
      — You know I had something funny in store for the mummy mystery, Janice couldn’t help but laugh again. I imagined we could have inserted Old Manon, coming down to secretly drink from her old malt whiskey’s flask, and finding them messing up with her old dear stuffed cat…
      — Maybe the mummy was the same one that Dory saw in the oblong hole in the ground outside the cave, Rodney was still accessing flickering images swirling around his head. And Sean was there helping the Tuaregs and moved it to safety.
      Of course, years previously, Illi Fergusson, the archeologist had buried the mummy there too for safe keeping.

      Now, Janice was hooked:
      — Was it where Illi learned about shapeshifting tricks from the old tribe?
      Rodney noticed Janice’s funny remark and laughed before continuing:
      — The Tuaregs were conducting secret coleslaw experiments in the desert. In combination with sound and irrigation techniques, they were going to run the entire Sahara into a broccoli field.

      Janice was amazed at the cabbage “coincidence” and irrigation stuff with her dream of that morning. Of course she knew there where probably mis-interpretation of the imagery coming from Rodney’s visions, but something made sense.
      — Around which year? she asked
      — Arrggh I don’t know!… Then, taking a breath of dream air, Rodney said “1923”. When Illi learned shape-shifting trick, 1923.
      — It makes sense, said Janice who was now thinking of other dispersed informations about Illi Fergusson.
      — Yes, she learned from Dashine Ashara… Although who that is, I don’t yet know.
      — Wow, said Janice. She had felt a connection with the “da’sheen” sound. She continued: somewhere, Illi Fergusson has said: “my parents were aristocrats”
      — Yes, answered Rodney who was accessing again, they were, and they knew the Wildes .
      — And it was said too: “[…] a nurturing presence that reminded Illi of the maid she and her parents had in their cottage in South Africa”… like her parents were traveling a lot.
      — Ah, South Africa! Illi’s parents emigrated to South Africa with Sir Abingdon Portfellow, an elderly scholar on ancient artifacts and embalming.
      — Seems she knew John Lubbock too, said Janice again, reviving old data banks of information. Dates seem okay, so if she was around 30 in the Tuareg adventure, she could have met him.
      — Wow, said Rodney, this is even more interesting…

      “But we may sit at home and yet be in all quarters of the earth.” Janice had just summoned the voice of the naturalist and archaeologist. Rodney applauded “Lubbock said that? cool quote!”.
      — Yes, like Illi’s quote, which was from him “What we see depends mainly on what we look for”. I wonder if that’s one of your (Illi’s) overlapping focuses, said Janice

      — Well, Illi didnt stay long in South Africa with boring old whatever his name was, Rodney pursued
      — Yes, she was young with her parents. They were traveling…

      They were both amazed at the magical cooperation they were doing at that moment. Janice would have loved to share all of that with Qixi and Jacob, but probably their energies were present at the moment too, though not focused here.

      She then remembered something else:
      — Oh, and there is something else! Quintin’s dream of the woman detective. Let me fetch it she said, summoning now Quintin’s memory to talk to them.
      … by night, near a museum in London, in the 1920s. She was investigating a case of a strange disappearance near a small replicate of an Egyptian pyramid that had been put here for display. There had been an exposition of ancient artifacts in the museum, which had been recently unearthed by a team of archaeologists and graciously lent by Egypt’s officials. Strangely enough, the woman detective feels linked to the story, and is probably Dory
      Date fits again, she said in awe.
      — Perfect! said Rodney. She was of course Dory too, but in that focus she was Illi Fergusson… he slowed down, then said No! wait! The detective was another one of my focuses. The archeologist who stole the mummy for safekeeping was Illi.
      — Hmmm
      — Hmmm
      — So you are both the thief and the detective, the one who creates mystery for yourself, how interesting, giggled Janice.
      — Yes, and not only that Janice! Rodney was taking a mysterious air… I am the mummy too!

      Janice bust out laughing imagining Rodney in bandages. Yes, of course!
      Then, she had a name come with that: Apsh’un Shet she said, very self-absorbed.
      Now, that was Rodney’s turn to burst out laughing.
      — “I am not sure about that!”
      — Doubting my insights… mmm, how rude… Janice frowned then laughed again.
      — If you call me that, I may have to make you out to have a speech impediment
      — Sounds a good Egyptian name for me though, seems it means “Light of the Dawn
      — Does it? Oh that sounds nice…
      — Well, in some Egyptian dialect, yes. She was a Princess…
      — Hahaha! Reminds me of Aspen Shit. Rodney doubted Janice could be serious about that name, but Janice was now the one to be accessing some information.
      — Bit bossy Princess
      — Which dynasty?
      III rd, answered Janice, who fumbled in links of consciousness to find some timeline to project for them.
      — What year?
      Janice projected the timeline below then said
      — I’d say around 2657 B.C., in Ancients way of telling time.

      They both marveled at the splendid team work they had been doing, and hoped that the other focuses involved would be able to get some parts of their insights too.

      Rodney was seeing something else
      — There is also, a very fascinating link between Tassili in the Sahara and Egypt which is a mystery AND there is a connection with Egypt and Scotland too…
      Illi the gripshawk comes from the mysterious land of the Sands, south of the map fragment
      — We may unravel more than we think… Illi is an other dimensional focus of the Illi essence…
      — Yes she is. She is a connection too, being “lost” in the land of dragons after hopping through traveling portals…
      — Exactly
      — And they communicated because they are helping each other
      — Which is why she doesn’t always ‘fit’ into this reality’s energy configuration
      — And they have some difficulties at times with translations of other dimensional stuff
      — Yes! resulting in confusion!

      And they both laughed again, looking at the great tapestry of clues that was woven before their dream eyes.

      #294

      Illi was beginning to really appreciate being dead and the freedom it provided to create whatever she wished at a moments notice. She’d enjoyed being a shape shifter while she was alive, often changing into a rather odd cat-like creature which was one of her favourites. She’d had tremendous fun over the years, confounding people with that one! Is it a cat? Is it a person? Is it a goat? A mongoose? hahaha what fun she’d had!

      Illi surveyed the long glittering white beach on her paradise island. There must be a million billion grains of sand here. I think I will conjure up some sand sculptures, fill the beach with fantastic magical creatures….

      Illi picked up a bambu cane to use as a magic wand ~ not that she needed a wand in order to perform magic, but she rather liked waving a stick around.

      Abracadabra the magic palabra, fairies and goblins and sprites!

      In an instant the beach was full of sand sprites, a veritable sea of impish little figures as far as the eye could see.

      HHHMM, though Illi, they are all so small, I’d like something big I think, for contrast and added dimension.

      Abracadabra the magic palabra, centaurs and unicorns and giants!

      Lordy, the giants had flattened whole tribes of sand gnomes. A few less giants, I think! Illi waved her magic wand of cane again, and disappeared all but one of the giants. RaFa the Giant, you may stay on my beach, Illi graciously declared to a kindly looking character of monstrous proportions who had considerately appeared at the very end of the beach so as not to flatten the sand sprites.

      On impulse, Illi found herself chanting the spell again…Abracadabra the magic palabra, DRAGONS appear on my beach!

      Four splendid sand dragons appeared in the shallows of the lagoon, sensuously sepentine in appearance, and sparkling in the tropical sun.

      #289

      The arrival of the noisy pink fairy was the last straw for Illi. She imagined her deserted island again and made sure she paid attention to imagining it completely deserted this time. No more fat nuns appearing from the heavens or squalking fairies!

      Illi made the new island a paradise….she magicked up staff when she wanted food or a massage, a gaggle of party people for when she felt like dancing, and blithely disappeared them when she was done. Mostly Illi slept. Her favourite spot was near the lagoon on the sand under the coconut trees. She lay and dozed and drifted and dreamed and imagined and dozed some more, trailing her fingers through the sand, pushing little heaps of sand here and there, pulling them back, making channels and watching the sand sift back in and disappear them. She dreamed of sand sculptures, an astonishing variety and all made from…sand! Tiny grains of sand, made into anything at all…..every tiny grain of conscious energy…made into anything at all…..and in comes the tide and washes and ripples a clean new beach….to make anything at all……

      #279

      Once Illi had realized she was dead and could ‘go’ anywhere she liked simply by creating the ‘place’ around her, she decided to take a long relaxing holiday on a deserted tropical island. She would float in the warm lagoon, feast on coconuts and pina coladas and mangoes, play with the dancing lemurs and build fantastic sand castles on the beaches. As she visualized it, it appeared as if by magic all around her…the sun warm on her head, the sand between her toes, the gentle breeze fragrant with exotic blooms and the sound of gossiping parrots filled her senses. She closed her eyes and flung her arms wide in appreciation for the physical joys she had recreated, breathed deeply and relaxed for the first time since she had died. Finally, she felt like she knew where she was, even if that ‘somewhere’ was as ‘nowhere’ as ‘anywhere’ else, just another ‘elsewhere’ really…..

      Illi stretched out on her back on the golden sand and squinted up at the cloudless deep blue sky. How nice, she thought, not to have any aches and pains, not to have to worry about shifting and those bloody belief systems, how simply lovely to just BE, with no perceived responsibilities, no interruptions…

      Just then out of the corner of her eye, Illi saw movement in the sky. Something was descending onto the island. Illi couldn’t make out what it was, and wished she had a pair of binoculars. Silly Illi, she said to herself, reaching for the binoculars that had appeared beside her. I keep forgetting I can create anything at all.

      Holy Moly! A great fat roly poly nun with a huge jolly grin was wafting down from the heavens, with an irridescent turquoise fairy in tow. They were landing on her island! We’ll see about that! Illi jumped to her feet and stomped off the beach and into the mangroves, sloshing angrily through the watery roots….. until she realized she could hover above the ground, which was a much easier way to travel.

      Hovering was much quieter too, and the jolly fat nun and the bluegreen fairy were quite unaware that Illi was peering at them from behind a peachy hibiscus bush. In fact, the blooms on the hibiscus had grown to a most ridiculous size, and Illi could hardly see past them. She hovered to the side a bit, and decided on impulse to make her presence known to the intruders.

      BOUH! :yahoo_skull:

      #1468
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        :yahoo_idea:Well, that all sounds rather technical to me, I think I need a fairy helper from fairyland to magically assist me with technical details, I think I’ll call my helper Tekka…no, Tikka…WAIT! I already have a fairy helper, her name is Tiki! So THAT’S who she is! The little cutie that appeared as if by magic in my mailbox is my tech support fairy godmother!:yahoo_tongue: :yahoo_idea: :yahoo_big_grin:

        #264
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          India Louise wrapped the big rusty key up in leopard spotted wrapping paper and tied it up with ribbon. She’d been invited to Eugenia’s birthday party, and she was excited. To be truthful, she was looking forward to meeting Oscar just as much as she was looking forward to the jelly and ice cream, trifles, and smarties.

          Oscar was a parrot, who had appeared one day at Eugenia’s bedroom window. He’d tapped the glass with his beak repeatedly until Eugenia opened the window and let him in.

          #261

          In searching for a sheet of paper to do some sketches of images going through his mind, Bill found an old poem he had started a long time ago, when he was feeling like he was completely transforming himself. He had not finished the poem, but had kept it all along…

          It said:

          I’ve been wandering through the valleys of death
          Where time knows no ending and all is gray
          And shadows seek nothing but oblivion itself
          In mazes of mist, minds’ errands led astray…

          Perhaps it was time to let go of useless things, Bill thought to himself.

          He watched the paper slowly smoldering and shrinking and falling to black and white cinders into the hearth.

          :fleuron:

          Before going to sleep that night, Quintin had the sensation of Janice’s presence. He was surprised, because she was no longer the little girl he had seen at times, but she was a very pretty young woman, with dark wavy hair.

          She had giggled at his surprise, telling him that yes, she was catching up with him…

          :fleuron:

          The City, year 2255 (%)

          Today was Janice’s birthday, but not her birthday as the Ancients, two and half a century from her time, would have counted it. It was counted from the time of the conception, as the future parents in this time were fully aware of the agreements they would have with the soul they would decide to give birth to.

          It was a reminder of this agreement between the parents and the child that was celebrated, and not the actual birth date.

          Janice had felt Cyprus’ presence quite strongly, and she decided to let herself open to the subjective communication. She was conversing with her friend Qixi, and sent her some energy to let her know she would probably remove her attention for a few moments, knowing she would be accepting.

          When she closed her eyes, she could immediately feel herself engulfed by the strong yet smooth energy of Cyprus; it was like being kissed by a swarm of blue sparkling butterflies.

          Then she opened her eyes.

          She was in an ancient classroom, with Cyprus focused as a teacher figure. Cyprus was seated behind her desk and came at once to great Janice.

          — Good morning!
          — Good morning Cyprus, you wanted to say something to me?
          — In actuality, you wanted me to tell you something, answered Cyprus with a mysterious smile.
          — Yes, I thought so. Is it about what I am choosing to do as an activity?
          — Correct.
          — You are aware that I want to be creating of worlds, and give them to people that would have commissioned them…
          — Yes, I am aware. And you wanted me to highlight some misconceptions about that.
          — Oh, misconceptions?
          — Yes. As you know, with these worlds that you create, you have infinite potential of explorations. You also know that they are not independent from the rest, even when you take great care of encapsulating them in an energy field. And as such, they are not cut-off from yourself, as soon as you deliver them.
          — It feels like a tremendous responsibility.
          — It is, and it is not. The responsibility is to yourself, as always. But, I wanted you to be aware that you hold some responsibility, to examine your own injections into these worlds that you create, so that you can be neutralizing what is not desired, and not merely hiding it deeper inside the world itself.
          — OK, I will do that…
          — Ahaha, there is another thing, my dear.
          — Oooh…
          — You also wanted me to make sure you understood what I meant.
          — Ahahaha, I see. Wiggling out won’t be as easy as I thought, Janice said with a smile. So, is it the reason for this classroom?
          — Nothing is hidden from you, as always.

          So Janice took a look at the sheet of paper on top of her own school desk.

          — I’ll be around if you need me, reassured Cyprus.
          — Thank you, said Janice

          The paper was like a spot test, with a few questions on it.

          :fleuron2:

          Study on a Few Contradictory Beliefs

          1. GUILT

          a. An old lord has lost contact with his son, because of harsh things said in the past.

          Write a short story about him realizing how guilt is not effective, and how past can be changed from the point of present by direct action.

          b. Detail the main beliefs you can see associated with this action of guilt.

          2. FEAR

          a. A man chooses to be disengaging by drowning in a river. During his transition, he faces his fears, helped in that by a friendly spirit. The fears take the forms of a forest of trees, all similar, with branches and malicious roots extending to him. In his previous life, the man thought he was a fool, as an excuse to stand out of the numb crowd. But now he faces this crowd again, only to be able to go on his journey and let go.

          Write a short paragraph about his journey. Place yourself from the perspective of both him and the friendly spirit guiding him through his fears, and see how he helps himself in realizing he does not need to push the fears away, and that they can disappear easily.

          b. Detail the beliefs associated with his madness, that he needs to let go of in order to be crossing the forest, and go to the Bridge of Daffoldils that leads to his cave of Self.

          DUPLICITY

          In association with the last two examples, detail how duplicity (belief in good versus bad) is influencing of each of the actions, and can be neutralised by accepting self and trusting that you shall not betray yourself.

          :fleuron:

          Janice gave her paper to Cyprus, who took it and held it for a moment, evaluating the answers.

          Cyprus then made it burst into a bluish dancing flame, and when the paper had disappeared, smiled at Janice lovingly.

          #242
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            So the lady whispered the answer to the riddle of the hand into Arona’s ear.

            Oh brilliant, thank you so much, said Arona, hugging her. Her hand felt so much better already.

            ***

            No longer fearful, Arona looked into the glass ball. The coloured sand was shifting. Shapes were forming. At first they appeared to be random and rather vague, just movements without any clear form. After a little while Arona went into a trance like state, and she could feel energy flowing through her body. She noticed that she was able to influence the movement of the sand with her thoughts.

            She stared at the sand for so long that she felt the edges of herself to be blurry. She had strange thoughts that she was a grain of sand herself and that she was being influenced to influence the sand. It was all quite surreal actually, but fun too, so did it really matter?

            #237
            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              Magic is easy peasy
              My hand is sore
              This poem is rubbish
              So I won’t say any more

              Well we must thank the Gods for small mercies said Mandrake, sighing heavily. Arona laughed. Her mood felt so light again, as though something had really, really, REALLY fallen into place for her.

              Up ahead the tunnel widened. Arona gave a small gasp as she saw what appeared to be a coatstand with a black cape standing in the middle of the path.

              My Cloak, she cried, astonished, and feeling sure that the crafty dragon was behind its unexpected appearance. Hmmm, what a mouldy old thing, she thought, as though seeing it for the first time.

              There was a note pinned to the cape:

              I build up castles. I tear down mountains. I make some men blind, I help others to see. What am I?

              Arona hesitated only for a moment. Sand! She said, delighted with herself.

              #231

              HAHAHA! it is your first step now. Let me just remind you that you need not play MY game, the game is yours, ever.” said Georges.

              Dory was feeling a bit confused now. What was he talking about, what game? And first step to what? She couldn’t hold to the anger nor the irritation; all of that was feeling not real or not here, or not there for all she knew.

              “The direction you follow is your choice, and where I come from is not relevant to this conversation. You may say I come from yourself :) and indeed you called me and I wanted company. Do you want more coleslaw?”

              Without waiting for her answer he refilled her plate with the tasty food.

              All those smells,… she could feel so many different things, things that appeared not to be here. A movement caught her attention in her periphery. As she turned her gaze whatever was there had vanished. And this humming, it was like music, but not very clear… if she could just focus more on it, yes like that, she was feeling sooo calm and she began laughing.

              “Hahahah… haha. Did you drug the coleslaw?” She asked, trying to appear angry and unhappy, but all she could do was smile and laugh.

              The images around her were shape-shifting, there were many colors, some of them she didn’t know could be possible, the walls were melting of sort and becoming transparent, or just fluid maybe…

              “Well you see how it’s easy to relax. Let’s see where you want to go now my dear Rafaela”, he said winking.

              And everything turned into a great maelström but she felt secure and could feel his presence reassuring, and there were all those other faces and places, some felt very familiar, had she ever been there before?

              #217
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                Never speechless for long, Dory wondered out loud if she should just hurry along into the cave and hope to catch up with some other expeditioners, or explore the area around the cave first.

                Have a look around, a voice in her head said. Ever the wanderer, always curious to just see what’s around that next corner, and the next….Dory wandered through the strange tall rock shapes. In a sort of natural passageway between vertical rock faces she came upon a group of people squatting next to a large oblong hole in the ground. The womans shawls and headscarves were flapping madly in the wind as she conversed with a boy of about 13, and it seemed to Dory as though they were discussing moving something so that it wouldn’t be found. Dory stood perfectly still just watching, and somewhat strangely they didn’t seem to notice her standing there.

                An older man with curly grey hair and a long maroon djelaba and a tall narrow brimless black hat started to hurry away, as if a decision had been made.

                Dory watched him until he disappeared from view. When she looked back towards the hole in the ground, it had vanished, and so had the woman and the boy.

                PPFFFT! Dory had been deserted again. She turned and headed back towards the cave. Suddenly she felt hungry, and an image of a plate of cool crunchy coleslaw popped into her head.

                I hope they’ve laid food on in the cave, she said.

                #215

                After Arona said she was hungry, the energy of Malvina disappeared, and once again Arona found herself alone in the cave.

                She found this quite irritating. They are really bit rude around here, she muttered.

                Arona sat down on the floor of the cave and considered her options. She was tired of the cave and could barely remember what had drawn her here in the first place.

                It had been the music of course. She had wanted to find the source of the music. However for the most part she decided her experience had been rather disappointing.

                (Arona was never at her best when hungry and this was causing her to quickly forget some of the wonderful experiences with the music and the paintings, and take a rather negative view of events.)

                All I have done is wander around dark passageways really.

                And now, to top it all off, apparently things are shifting. In the name of heaven what does that mean?

                AND if one more person tells me to use my magic I will probably scream or something!

                Perish the thought, came a grumpy voice from a particularly dark corner. Your moaning is quite sufficiently bad enough.

                And Mandrake the cat emerged from the shadows and made himself comfortable on Arona’s lap. This is great, much more comfortable than the ground he purred.

                Oh cute, said Arona, a talking cat.

                Cute yourself, responded Mandrake, love your cape by the way.

                (Mandrake was prone to sarcasm, considering it a perfectly valid form of humour.)

                Arona stroked Mandrake’s soft black coat and tried her hardest to work out what to do. It was all feeling a bit bleak at the moment, the ever changing cave, the half light, the heat and humidity… and especially her hunger.

                Mandrake sighed in an impatiently eggsagerated sort of a way.

                Heavens to murgatroyd¹, how can I relax with your incessant thinking? Okay so here’s an easy one for you: what’s the most important thing about magic?

                All of a sudden Arona felt a flash of lightness and a sense of new energy moving within her.

                of course! She exclaimed delightedly, hugging the less than enthusiastic Mandrake, you have to believe in it!

                [¹] Note from the editor: Mandrake being a very educate cat from noble ancestors, some of its speech may be difficult to grasp for the average reader, which was certainly not the case for the astute Arona.
                Anyway, here is some complement on that ‘Murgatroyd’ .

                #207
                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  Fiona had just received another rambling note from Dory, and was feeling rather bemused and perplexed.

                  Dory’s notes seemed to make less and less sense. The worst thing was that lately Quintin and Yann appeared to be following her lead. Of course she could be mistaken, the difference in language could be confusing things .. and there was all the merging they had been doing lately which meant they usually spoke in riddles. Fiona spoke very little French, just a few handy phrases such as “hello” and “butt”.

                  But as for Dory

                  Fiona was a kindhearted person and tolerant of others. But these tales Dory was spinning appeared to be increasingly bizarre and nonsensical. Endless beginnings which never seemed to lead anywhere.

                  Am I being too rational? Fiona wondered, always humbly willing to accept her own shortcomings, or “dark corners” as Quintin liked to describe them.

                  One day, after a particularly outrageous note from Dory about an orgy in her kitchen with 57 Italians she had to cook for, Fiona felt compelled to gently and tactfully question Dory.

                  You are just out for revenge, Dory had hissed at her. It’s just a dream, I think … hmmmmm or am I a dream … or is it all a dream ….. I will go and ask Archie! and off she had dashed in a flurry of colourful shawls.

                  Bugger this, thought Fiona. Revenge had been the last thing on her sweet natured mind. With no more housework left to complete, she decided to go for a walk to the nearby cafe to take her mind from all this madness.

                  #196
                  Jib
                  Participant

                    Yann found that strange article while surfing the internet. It was about a whole bunch of Italian tourists that had disappeared around the Smoo Cave in Scotland… wasn’t that the cave he visited when he was in Scotland? :-?

                    The article was continuing with the number of tourists : 57!!!! all they had found until now were their 16 vans. Apparently some people said the cave was haunted and that at times they see the bushes around move in weird ways or some green glowing energy during storms.

                    Yann wondered about the tourists… where could they have possibly gone?

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