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  • #4592
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      (…)

      As Albie was staring at her, she quickly put away her dive tool and went back into the room. And so, she had to decide what to do with her new cat companion, who now had a strange personality and was very curious about her surroundings. Her room was very neat and not really crowded, but if she wasn’t careful a dog could find her and bite her. She also had her trusty flashlight and had her back window open to avoid being disturbed while she went swimming in the water.

      #4550

      There was a knock at the door. It was a tentative knock, 3 small taps really, and It would have been easy to miss if Glynnis and Eleri had not lapsed into an uncomfortable silence and now sat glowering at each other across the kitchen table.

      They turned their heads towards the door in alarm, differences forgotten in light of this new threat. Nobody had knocked on the door of the cottage in the woods for such a long time.

      “It could be one of Leroway’s men”, hissed Eleri. “I wonder how they found the cottage now it is so well hidden,” she added, unable to help herself.

      Glynis went to the window by the front door and peeped out.

      “It’s an old lady,” she said in surprise

      “Could be a trick! Don’t answer it! What’s an old lady doing in the forest this hour of the evening? That’s too strange.”

      Eleri rushed to the door and put her body in front of it, blocking Glynis.

      “She looks a lot like Margoritt, only shorter,” said Glynis. “I don’t sense any danger. I’m going to open it. Get out of the way will you.”

      “Well, I sense danger actually,” said Eleri haughtily but she stood aside and Glynis opened the door carefully, just a few inches at first, peeping out through the gap while Eleri hovered anxiously behind her. A plump little lady wearing a crinkly blue suit and a hat with a bird’s feather on it stood on the front step.

      “Hello, can I help you?” said Glynis

      “Hello dear, I was starting to think nobody was home. Is this where Margoritt lives? I do hope I have the right place. I have come such a long way.”

      Margoritt is out on business at the moment. May I ask what it is you want with her?” said Glynis politely.

      “I’m her sister, Muriel, from the North. I’m sure she must have spoken of me. Do let me in, dears. It is icy cold out here. And I think I may be having one of my turns because your lovely wee house is looking ever so twinkly. It’s the migraine you know … they get me in the head ever so badly now and then. It’s the stress of the long journey I think ….”

      She took a step inside, gently but firmly pushing Glynis and Eleri aside, and entered the room, a strong smell of lavender wafting off her clothes and lingering in the air around her.

      “I am not sure where my case is … I left it in the forest I think. Perhaps one of you young things could find it for me. It was getting ever so heavy. Now, tell me your names and then if someone could make me a nice hot cup of tea, and one for themselves of course!” She laughed brightly and Glynis and Eleri joined in though they weren’t sure why. “And perhaps you could get me a wool blanket for my knees and I expect after a good sleep I’ll be right as rain.” She looked around the cottage with a small frown. “I can see I have come to the right place. I’d know my sister’s tastes anywhere.”

      #4485

      When they reached outside the next morning, the sky was blue, and the light already intense.
      Birds were hovering silently above in regular patterns.

      “See Olli, those are not normal birds.” Rukshan pointed toward the sky. “Too regular pattern – they are the guarding watch of whatever landed there. Better not to attract too much attention.”

      He handed to Olliver a tan cape to put over his red shirt.
      “Better be careful with the sun too.”

      The baby snoot was quick to jump on Olli’s shoulder, and at its touch, the cape seemed to glimmer invisible.

      “Ah,… that can work too.” Rukshan was still intrigued by the creatures’ capacity. They didn’t seem born of magic, but of inter-dimensional energy blending.

      “We shouldn’t be far from a village, I’ve seen some oasis from the top of the ridge earlier, we’ll follow that route, and hopefully will find out some more about these mysteries.”

      #4474

      Rukhsan was ready with his package, the plan, the backup plan, and all the disaster recovery plans they would never need to do their journey to the west.
      All of this preparation was starting to make him antsy, and he hoped everyone would make it in time to start the expedition.

      Eleri had promised to be back in time, but she had that tendency to… forget things even more since her bout of illness. Glynis’ ginkgo leaves tea had helped a little, at least for the memory thing, not really for Eleri’s stubbornness to have them wait for her return — such assertiveness that was a sure sign of her recovery she’d said.
      She’d gone already for weeks, and tonight’s was the departure… He had to trust everything would line up.

      Right now, there was nothing to expect… but the unexpected. All carefully laid out plans would never stand a chance once on the roads, he knew that. It gave him some small comfort to just be aware of all the places and manners where the camel’s back would break.

      Pricking up his ear in the still evening, he found out that this time, it seemed to start from the kitchen.

      #4471

      Fox sat back on the wooden chair in Margoritt’s kitchen, and crossed his arms, a little unnerved by the heat and his growing desire to go out in the woods and let go of all restraints. He had been struggling daily to control it and he had noticed it was particularly difficult during the new moon.

      “If we have to do it in the house,” said Fox, “Can’t we at least open the windows? It’ll let in some fresh air.” He wrinkled his nose at the heavy scents of sweat mingled with that of fermented goat milk, irritating his delicate sense of smell. Rukshan had gathered their little group and they were waiting for Gorrash to wake up.

      “The purpose of meeting here is that nobody can hear what we are saying,” said Rukshan with a hint of exasperation in his tone. “If we open the windows it’ll just…”

      “Isn’t it rather because of the mosquitos?” started Fox feeling a little argumentative.

      Glynis cleared her throat and got up, mumbling that she might have a solution. She came back a few moment later carrying a big bottle with a big sticker. Rukshan and Mr Minn helped her lift it while Eleri and Margoritt cleared a space on the table where they put the bottle.

      The sticker had something written on it : AIR CONDITIONED, winter quality. Handle with caution.

      Glynis turned the cap a few turns and a wooshing sound escaped from the neck of the bottle, followed by a gentle and continuous breeze of fresh air which provoked a murmur of appreciation from everyone.

      “What’s this?” asked Gorrash who had just woken up.

      “It’s what the sticker says. Cooling the atmosphere is just one way to use it. One has to be careful not to turn the wheel too much though or you could get frost bite.”

      The fae looked at the bottle appreciatively, impressed at Glynis’ many talents. He was already thinking about a few other ways to put this frozen air bottle to use when Glynis cleared her throat again.

      “It’s not infinite content and I only get a few of them, so if we could start the meeting.”

      “Of course. I’ve received words from Lhamom. Her father has passed away and they are sending him to the sea during the week-end.” He allowed a moment of silence, sending a silent prayer toward their dear friend. Then he continued : “That means she’ll be able to join us for our trip in the mountains. We only have to decide who’s going and who’s staying to help Margoritt.”

      Rukshan looked at each of them intently and Fox felt uneasy when his friend’s eyes fall upon him.

      #4461

      Rukshan went into the forest and looked carefully for a particular creature. It was almost nightfall and there should be some of them already out on the branches. The air was cooler in the evening, thanks also to the big trees protecting them from the scorching sun, and Rukshan couldn’t help but think that the climate was really going haywire. One day cold, one week hot and wet. And this bad omen feeling that everybody seemed to get recently. He knew it was time to go, and despite the comfort of Margoritt’s cottage, he was starting to feel restless.

      He was making a lost of noise, stepping on every dry twigs he could find. A couple of rabbits and the crowd of their offsprings jumped away, a deer looked at him as if he was some vulgar neighbour and the birds flew away, disturbed during their evening serenades. But this was the kind of noise that would attract the telebats, small nocturnal animals that you could use for long distance communication.

      He found one on an old oak tree. It seemed to be in resonance with his cracking twigs. Rukshan hurried and caught it before the spell of his steps would dissipate.

      Rukshan to Lhamom: Hope everything’s fine. Stop. Something happened. Stop. Need help organise trip to mountains. Over,” he whispered in the sensitive ears of the small animal. The telebat listened carefully and opened its little mouth, making sounds that no normal ears could hear. Maybe Fox could have, but he would have found it as annoying as the cracking twigs. Then Rukshan waited.

      The answer wasn’t long to come. He knew it because the ears of the creature vibrated at high frequency. He listened into the creature’s left ear where he could hear the answer.

      Lhamom to Rukshan: Father not well. Stop. I’m worried. Stop. Have to go home take care of him. Stop. I send Drummis to help you. Over.”

      Rukshan responded with “Thanks. Stop. Hope everything well with Father. Stop. Have safe trip home. Over.”

      He hung up the telebat on the branch where he found it, and gave it a moth that he had found on his way.
      Rukshan frowned. He have never met Drummis. He wondered if he could trust him.

      #4442

      In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

      TracyTracy
      Participant

        sun bird
        careful started beginning mushrooms
        desire spell glass hope floor
        night taking melon send turned behind fur
        dust elderly approaching

        #4436

        In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

        TracyTracy
        Participant

          glowing fence mean visit forgotten
          felt focus sunny witch behind wisdom
          hungry stories taking early under eggs
          keep laughing carefully nature

          #4420
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            As soon as the words had left her mouth, Lottie regretted them. She looked at Albie’s shocked, crestfallen face and knew she had been too harsh. Maybe she wasn’t cut out to be a writing mentor. It was a constant battle for her: should she be brutally honest and possibly save them years of misdirected effort or should she foster their creative spirit at all costs, even if it meant being dishonest? She sighed and tried to backtrack.

            “Look, Albie, there is some good stuff in here but it needs work … “

            “It’s okay,” Albie broke in quickly. “It’s fine. I knew I was no good … it’s fine. Thanks.” He gave an embarrassed laugh. “Mum has been on at me to do something since I lost my job so i thought … well, I thought I’d give writing a shot. Better stick to walking the dog, eh!”

            “Yes, you and Alex are a right pair, walking off the job like that.” Lottie shook her head, causing the thick reading glasses to slip down her long beaky nose. Lottie always wore black and she reminded Albie of a crow. He liked her though, which is why he had asked her to read his play.

            “Anyway what’s done is done.” Lottie continued. And then she hesitated for a moment, pushing the glasses back up her nose and looking down at the manuscript on the table in front of her as though weighing her words carefully before continuing. “Look, Albie, one thing I did notice in your writing was that there was a recurring theme. Perhaps your subconscious trying to tell you something. It often works like that.

            “The Doline thing?”

            “Yes,” said Lottie. “Something to think about anyway.”

            #4403
            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              random plot generator

              A BOOK SHOP – IT IS THE AFTERNOON AFTER ALBIE HIT HIS MOTHER WITH A FEATHER.

              Newly unemployed ALBIE is arguing with his friend JENNY RAMSBOTTOM. ALBIE tries to hug JENNY but she shakes him off angrily.

              ALBIE
              Please Jenny, don’t leave me.

              JENNY
              I’m sorry Albie, but I’m looking for somebody a bit more brave. Somebody who faces his fears head on, instead of running away. You hit your mother with a feather! You could have just talked to her!

              ALBIE
              I am such a person!

              JENNY
              I’m sorry, Albie. I just don’t feel excited by this relationship anymore.

              JENNY leaves and ALBIE sits down, looking defeated.

              Moments later, gentle sweet shop owner MR MATT HUMBLE barges in looking flustered.

              ALBIE
              Goodness, Matt! Is everything okay?

              MATT
              I’m afraid not.

              ALBIE
              What is it? Don’t keep me in suspense…

              MATT
              It’s … a hooligan … I saw an evil hooligan frighten a bunch of elderly ladies!

              ALBIE
              Defenseless elderly ladies?

              MATT
              Yes, defenseless elderly ladies!

              ALBIE
              Bloomin’ heck, Matt! We’ve got to do something.

              MATT
              I agree, but I wouldn’t know where to start.

              ALBIE
              You can start by telling me where this happened.

              MATT
              I was…
              MATT fans himself and begins to wheeze.

              ALBIE
              Focus Matt, focus! Where did it happen?

              MATT
              The Library! That’s right – the Library!

              ALBIE springs up and begins to run.

              EXT. A ROADCONTINUOUS

              ALBIE rushes along the street, followed by MATT. They take a short cut through some back gardens, jumping fences along the way.

              INT. A LIBRARYSHORTLY AFTER

              ROGER BLUNDER a forgetful hooligan terrorises two elderly ladies.

              ALBIE, closely followed by MATT, rushes towards ROGER, but suddenly stops in his tracks.

              MATT
              What is is? What’s the matter?

              ALBIE
              That’s not just any old hooligan, that’s Roger Blunder!

              MATT
              Who’s Roger Blunder?

              ALBIE
              Who’s Roger Blunder? Who’s Roger Blunder? Only the most forgetful hooligan in the universe!

              MATT
              Blinkin’ knickers, Albie! We’re going to need some help if we’re going to stop the most forgetful hooligan in the universe!

              ALBIE
              You can say that again.

              MATT
              Blinkin’ knickers, Albie! We’re going to need some help if we’re going to stop the most forgetful hooligan in the universe!

              ALBIE
              I’m going to need candlesticks, lots of candlesticks.

              Roger turns and sees Albie and Matt. He grins an evil grin.

              ROGER
              Albie Jones, we meet again!

              MATT
              You’ve met?

              ALBIE
              Yes. It was a long, long time ago…

              EXT. A PARKBACK IN TIME

              A young ALBIE is sitting in a park listening to some trance music, when suddenly a dark shadow casts over him.

              He looks up and sees ROGER. He takes off his headphones.

              ROGER
              Would you like some wine gums?

              ALBIE’s eyes light up, but then he studies ROGER more closely, and looks uneasy.

              ALBIE
              I don’t know, you look kind of forgetful.

              ROGER
              Me? No. I’m not forgetful. I’m the least forgetful hooligan in the world.

              ALBIE
              Wait, you’re a hooligan?

              ALBIE runs away, screaming.

              INT. A LIBRARYPRESENT DAY

              ROGER
              You were a coward then, and you are a coward now.

              MATT
              (To ALBIE) You ran away?
              ALBIE
              (To MATT) I was a young child. What was I supposed to do?
              ALBIE turns to ROGER.

              ALBIE
              I may have run away from you then, but I won’t run away this time!
              ALBIE runs away.

              He turns back and shouts.

              ALBIE
              I mean, I am running away, but I’ll be back – with candlesticks.

              ROGER
              I’m not scared of you.

              ALBIE
              You should be.

              INT. A SWEET SHOPLATER THAT DAY

              ALBIE and MATT walk around searching for something.

              ALBIE
              I feel sure I left my candlesticks somewhere around here.

              MATT
              Are you sure? It does seem like an odd place to keep deadly candlesticks.

              ALBIE
              You know nothing Matt Humble.

              MATT
              We’ve been searching for ages. I really don’t think they’re here.

              Suddenly, ROGER appears, holding a pair of candlesticks.

              ROGER
              Looking for something?

              MATT
              Crikey, Albie, he’s got your candlesticks.

              ALBIE
              Tell me something I don’t already know!

              MATT
              The earth’s circumference at the equator is about 40,075 km.

              ALBIE
              I know that already!

              MATT
              I’m afraid of dust.

              ROGER
              (appalled) Dude!

              While ROGER is looking at MATT with disgust, ALBIE lunges forward and grabs his deadly candlesticks. He wields them, triumphantly.

              ALBIE
              Prepare to die, you forgetful aubergine!

              ROGER
              No please! All I did was frighten a bunch of elderly ladies!

              JENNY enters, unseen by any of the others.

              ALBIE
              I cannot tolerate that kind of behaviour! Those elderly ladies were defenceless! Well now they have a defender – and that’s me! Albie Jones defender of innocent elderly ladies.

              ROGER
              Don’t hurt me! Please!

              ALBIE
              Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t use these candlesticks on you right away!

              ROGER
              Because Albie, I am your father.

              ALBIE looks stunned for a few moments, but then collects himself.

              ALBIE
              No you’re not!

              ROGER
              Ah well, it had to be worth a try.

              ROGER tries to grab the candlesticks but ALBIE dodges out of the way.

              ALBIE
              Who’s the daddy now? Huh? Huh?

              Unexpectedly, ROGER slumps to the ground.

              MATT
              Did he just faint?

              ALBIE
              I think so. Well that’s disappointing. I was rather hoping for a more dramatic conclusion, involving my deadly candlesticks.

              ALBIE crouches over ROGER’s body.

              MATT
              Be careful, Albie. It could be a trick.

              ALBIE
              No, it’s not a trick. It appears that… It would seem… Roger Blunder is dead!

              ALBIE
              What?

              ALBIE
              Yes, it appears that I scared him to death.

              MATT claps his hands.

              MATT
              So your candlesticks did save the day, after all.

              JENNY steps forward.

              JENNY
              Is it true? Did you kill the forgetful hooligan?

              ALBIE
              Jenny how long have you been…?

              JENNY puts her arm around ALBIE.

              JENNY
              Long enough.

              ALBIE
              Then you saw it for yourself. I killed Roger Blunder.

              JENNY
              Then the elderly ladies are safe?

              ALBIE
              It does seem that way!

              A crowd of vulnerable elderly ladies enter, looking relived.

              JENNY
              You are their hero.

              The elderly ladies bow to ALBIE.

              ALBIE
              There is no need to bow to me. I seek no worship. The knowledge that Roger Blunder will never frighten elderly ladies ever again, is enough for me.

              JENNY
              You are humble as well as brave! And I think that makes up for hitting your mother with a feather. It does in my opinion!

              One of the elderly ladies passes ALBIE a healing ring

              JENNY
              I think they want you to have it, as a symbol of their gratitude.

              ALBIE
              I couldn’t possibly.
              Pause.

              ALBIE
              Well, if you insist. It could come in handy when I go to the Doline tomorrow. With my friend Matt. It is dangerous and only for brave people and a healing ring could come in handy.

              ALBIE takes the ring.

              ALBIE
              Thank you.
              The elderly ladies bow their heads once more, and leave.

              ALBIE turns to JENNY.

              ALBIE
              Does this mean you want me back?

              JENNY
              Oh, Albie, of course I want you back!
              ALBIE smiles for a few seconds, but then looks defiant.

              ALBIE
              Well you can’t have me.

              JENNY
              WHAT?

              ALBIE
              You had no faith in me. You had to see my scare a hooligan to death before you would believe in me. I don’t want a lover like that. And I am going to the Doline and I may not be back!

              JENNY
              But…

              ALBIE
              Please leave. I want to spend time with the one person who stayed with me through thick and thin – my best friend, Matt.

              MATT grins.

              JENNY
              But…

              MATT
              You heard the gentleman. Now be off with you. Skidaddle! Shoo!

              JENNY
              Albie?

              ALBIE
              I’m sorry Jenny, but I think you should skidaddle.
              JENNY leaves.

              MATT turns to ALBIE.

              MATT
              Did you mean that? You know … that I’m your best friend?

              ALBIE
              Of course you are!
              The two walk off arm in arm.

              Suddenly MATT stops.

              MATT
              When I said I’m afraid of dust, you know I was just trying to distract the hooligan don’t you?

              #4391
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                It had been a long time coming, but Lillianne had known there was no rush. There had been a flurry of interest many years ago, but nothing came to fruition. All the ingredients were there for a banquet of discovery, but no cooks to combine the ingredients successfully ~ until now.

                They’d been very careful to cover their tracks, even laying red herrings along the way. Others were interested, they knew that, and they knew they’d been followed, sensing the lurking energy trails behind them. But the main thing was, they got there first. Now was not a time to relax, despite the urge to just pause and revel in the accomplishment.

                “But I’m knackered, Lillianne,” whined Petra, running her hands distractedly through her tangled hair. “Surely we can take a little nap before we continue. Over there behind those rocks, look! Let’s just nip behind there.”

                Lillianne pursed her lips. There was no point in arguing with Petra when she was tired. And the more she thought about it, the more a short rest sounded enticing. The climb down into the dense wooded gorge had been arduous, and her ankle ached where she’d twisted it on a loose rock.

                “Come on then, but only half an hour!”

                #4387
                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  The Doline was brimming with unseen life, glistening below the twinkling star-lighted sky overhead. Albino geckos were dancing on the walls of ancient stones, while the twirling bats were hunting near the flowing streams of pristine water. Cooing late birds were singing old stories, while the scurrying rodents shuffling the leaves coverage ventured outside, carefully out of the gaze of nocturnal birds of prey.

                  There was a traveler that day who had found the entrance long forgotten. The trees had parted to let her gain access. So it began.

                  #4384
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    “What we all need now”, Liz was thinking out loud, “Is a more relaxed approach. We should stop trying to be proper clever writers and just blather.”

                    “If it’s supposed to be relaxed blather, why did you just fix three typo’s?” asked Finnley, the annoying maid, who had once again been peering over Elizabeth’s shoulder, looking for something to find fault with.

                    “Oh come on, that’s a bit much, Liz!” Finnley retorted, accidentally on purpose slopping Liz’s tea into her ashtray, knowing a pet hate of hers was a wet ashtray.

                    “Do be careful, Finnely! snapped Liz.

                    “Just taking a relaxed approach to being a maid, Ma’am,” she replied rudely with a flamboyant gesture with her feather duster, which whacked Liz smartly across the back of the head as she swanned out of the room with her nose in the air.

                    #4363

                    The rain stopped as suddenly as it had begun.

                    Margoritt showed Glynis to a small area, partitioned off from the main room; a narrow bed, a tiny window to the outside and and a simple wooden shelf.

                    “You’ll be wanting some privacy,” she said. “And something dry to wear,” she added, handing Glynis a dress, plain in shape and made from a soft woven fabric, pearly spheres woven into a dark purple background.

                    The second person to give me something to wear, she mused.

                    The fabric was amazing. It made Glynis think of stars at night and the way you could never see to the end of the sky. It felt both reassuring and terrifying all at the same time.

                    There is magic in the hands that wove this, she thought, hesitant though to voice her thoughts to Margoritt, however kindly she seemed.

                    “A master weaver has made this!” she said instead. “Was it you?”

                    “No, not I … but you are right, it was made by a master … as you can no doubt see, it doesn’t fit me any longer. I’ve had it sitting there going to waste for many years and am glad to put it to use. It doesn’t cover your head like the other did, but really there is no need here.” Margoritt smiled. “Go, get changed. Come out when you are ready and I will have some tea and cake for you. Then you can meet the others properly.”

                    “Is it okay? hissed Sunny in a loud whisper when they were alone, anxiously hopping from one foot to another.

                    “Yes, i think so … I’ve been very careful,” Glynis reached in her pouch and gently pulled out an egg.

                    “It’s amazing, isn’t it … almost golden… for sure it must be the gift the man from the market promised me in my dream … the way it just sat there on the path … lucky I did not stand on it.” She stroked the egg gently.

                    “Sorry about all this, little one,” she said softly to the egg. “I wonder what creature you are inside this shell … and what safe place can we hide you till you are ready to come out of there?”

                    “I can sit on it of course,” said Sunny. “It will be my honour and privilege to assist.”

                    #4361
                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      Finnley! Finnley!” Liz’ called from her boudoir.
                      “What is happening with the ceiling? There is water dripping everywhere, it is ruining my last manuscript! You surely haven’t left a window opened upstairs, have you?”

                      She tutted, her hair in disbelief. “With that storm outside, at least that idiot Walter did well to take this ghastly frog trenchcoat back with him.”

                      She paused her litany to contemplate her latest treasure, carefully arranged at the bottom of a large envelope. Seven green potsherds sent by her old friend with a note attached: “Some patterns ideas, I’m sure you’ll know what to do with them.”

                      #4331

                      “What was in the bag, Finnley, tell us!”
                      Everyone was looking at the maid after the Inspector had left hurriedly, under the pretext of taking care of a tip he had received on the disappearance of the German girl.

                      Godfrey was the most curious in fact. He couldn’t believe in the facade of meanness that Finnley carefully wrapped herself into. The way she cared about the animals around the house was a testimony to her well hidden sweetness. Most of all, he thought herself incapable of harming another being.
                      But he had been surprised before. Like when Liz’ had finished a novel, long ago.

                      “Alright, I’ll show you. Stay there, you lot of accomplices.”

                      Godfrey looked at Liz’ sideways, who was distracted anyway by the gardener, who was looking at the nearby closet.

                      Liz’, will you focus please! The mystery is about to be revealed!”

                      “Oh shut up, Godfrey, there’s no mystery at all. I’ve known for a while what that dastardly maid had done. I’ve been onto her for weeks!”
                      “Really?”
                      “Oh, don’t you give me that look. I’m not as incapable as you think, and that bloodshot-eyes stupor I affect is only to keep annoyances away. Like my dear mother, if you remember.”
                      “So tell us, if you’re so smart now. In case it’s really a corpse, at least, we may all be prepared for the unwrapping!”
                      “A CORPSE! Ahaha, you fool Godfrey. It’s not A corpse! It’s MANY CORPSES!”

                      Godfrey really thought for a second that she had completely lost it. Again. He would have to call the nearby sanatorium, make up excuses for the next signing session at the library, and cancel all future public appear…

                      “Will you stop that! I know what you’re doing, you bloody control machine! Stop that thinking of yours, I can’t even hear myself thinking nowadays for all your bloody thinking. Now, as I was saying of course she’d been hiding all the corpses!”
                      “Are you insane, Liz’ —at least keep your voice down…”
                      “Don’t be such a sourdough Godfrey, you’re sour, and sticky and all full of gas. JUST LET ME EXPLAIN, for Lemone’s sake!”

                      Godfrey fell silent for a moment, eyeing a lost peanut left on a shelf nearby.

                      Conscious of the unfair competition for Godfrey’s attention Elizabeth blurted it all in one sentence:
                      “She’s been collecting them, my old failed stories, the dead drafts and old discarded versions of them. Hundreds of characters, those little things, I’d given so many cute little names, but they had no bones or shape, and very little personality, I had to smother them to death.” She started sobbing uncontrollably.

                      That was then that Finnley came back in the room, panting and dragging the sack coated in dirt inside the room, and seeing the discomfit Liz’ with smeared make-up all over her eyes.

                      “Oh, bloody hell. Don’t you tell me I brought that dirty bag of scraps up for nothing!”

                      She left there, running for the door screaming “I’m not doing the carpets again!”

                      And closed the door with a sonorous “BUGGER!”

                      #4330

                      In the past twenty days since he got out of the forest, backtracking on his steps, Rukshan didn’t have much luck finding or locating either of the six others strands.
                      At first, he thought his best hint was the connection with the potion-maker, but it seemed difficult to find her if she didn’t want to be found.

                      So, for lack of a better plan, he had come back to Margoritt’s shack and was quite pleased at the idea of meeting the old lady and Tak again.
                      Her cottage had been most busy with guests, and in the spring time, it was a stark contrast with the last time he was there, to see all the motley assemblage she had gathered around her.

                      First, there was Margoritt of course, Emma the goat, then Tak, who was a very convincing little boy these days, and looked happy at all the people visiting. Then, there was Lahmom, the mountain explorer, who had come down from her trek and enjoyed a glass of goat milk tea with roast barley nuggets.
                      Then there were a couple of strange guests, a redhair man with a nose for things, and his pet statue, a gnome with a temper, he said. Margoritt had offered them shelter during the last of the blizzard.

                      With so many unexpected guests, Margoritt quickly found her meager provisions dwindling, and told Rukshan she was about to decide for an early return to the city, since the next cargo of her benefactor Mr Minn would take too long to arrive.

                      That was the day before she arrived to the cottage with her companion: Eleri and Yorath, had arrived surprisingly just in time with a small carriage of provisions. “How great that mushrooms don’t weigh anything, we have so many to share!” Eleri was happy at the sight of the cottage and its guests, and started to look around at all the nooks and crannies for secret treasures to assemble and unknown shrooms.
                      While Yorath explained to Margoritt how Mr Minn had send him ahead with food, Margoritt was delighted and amazed at such prescience.

                      Rukshan, for his part, was amazed at something else. There seemed to be something at play, to join together people of such variety in this instant. Maybe the solution he was looking for was just in front of his nose.
                      He would have to look carefully at which of them could be an unknown holder of the shards of the Gem.

                      He was consigning his thoughts on a random blank page of his vanishing book, not to store the knowledge, but rather to engage on a inner dialogue, and seek illumination, when some commotion happened outside the cottage.

                      A towering figure followed by a boy had just arrived in the clearing. “Witch! You will pay for what you did!” pointing at Eleri, backed behind Yorath who had jumped protectively in front of her.

                      That can’t be another coincidence Rukshan thought, recognizing the two new guests: the reanimated god statue of the tower, and Olliver, the boy who, he deduced, had managed to wake up the old teleporting device.

                      #4277

                      “You’ve been careless. The ghosts have been following you.”

                      The Queen had not moved nor spoken. It was her emissary who was talking in her stead, as customary.
                      In the morning, at the break of dawn, Rukshan had summoned the Court, by calling in an owl with the old speech of their tongue.
                      It was not long before he was found and guided to a careful ritual of purification before he was allowed in front of their sovereign.

                      The idea struck him like lightening. Following me? Was that what happened?

                      “You look surprised. Another sign of carelessness. Now, they are wandering around our walls of magic fire, they are following you. As a result of our actions, we are exhausting our stores of magic to put defenses in place, putting our civilisation in peril. What have you to say for your defense?”
                      “Throw me in iron jail” a shudder ran through the small crowd “kill me if you think I deserve it.” Rukshan paused for dramatic effect “But it won’t solve your predicament, will it?”

                      He felt a rush of defiance coursing through his veins. They couldn’t hold him against his will, there wasn’t any ban on improper use of magic, nor any punition for that, and if they wanted to get rid of the ghosts, they’d better let him go.

                      “Let him go.” The breaking of protocol made everyone fuss around, until the Queen silenced everyone with a regal wave of hand. “Let him go.” She turned her gaze to meet his. “You think you are better than us, by renouncing the old ways, trying to define your own, but you are not above natural laws. They will follow you until you find how to appease them. I do hope, for the sake of all, that you will find a way. Humans may think they have tamed the wild, but the wild is rising and cannot be contained. The forest will see to it, and you better hurry. We will give you what you need for your journey, and three days to prepare.”

                      #4272

                      Kumihimo was rummaging through the content of a wooden chest at the back of the cave. According to the smell it had spent too much time in the dark and humid environment. She might have to do some spring cleaning one day. But the chest was now too heavy for her to carry. I need an apprentice for this, she thought not knowing if if was a wish or a regret.

                      In that chest, she had her many tools of the thread. Some were made of bones and she had carved them herself under the direction of her spirit guides. Each one had a specific purpose, either to catch, to extract, to guide, or to dissipate, and many more usages that even she had forgotten after so many years spent in that place.

                      She had accumulated so many things in that chest. Fortunately she liked miniature, and most of her creations were seldom bigger than her little finger. However that made it difficult to keep things in order and finding something was often a real challenge. So she sang lullabies to lure the object she was looking for out of their sanctuary.

                      Victory! she exulted in the ancient tongue, which would translate also as ‘I have done all that is necessary to harvest the benefits of the next crop’. Kumihimo liked simple things and she liked when one word could signify a very complex meaning. Under an old donkey skin that she often used to camouflage herself when she was going down in the valley, she had found the loom she had been looking for.

                      The loom was made from the right shoulder blade of a bear. It was one of the first objects she had carved when she arrived in the vicinity. It had a yellowish patina and felt very smooth in her hands. Its shape was octagonal and each side had seven notches under which were three rows of symbols, some of the ink was gone after so many years, but she could still feel the groove where she had carved them. She smiled at the fond memories and at the dear friend who allowed her to take his bone when he died of old age.
                      In the centre of the loom was a heart with a circular hole in it. It was where the braid would emerge.

                      Holding the precious object, Kumihimo could feel all the braids she had already made and all the potential braids that waited to come into existence. She felt warmth bloom in her heart at the task at hand.

                      Each notch corresponded at the same time to a time of the year, to a direction on earth and in the sky, and some rather obscure references to many other phenomenon and concepts. The weaving depended on very complex rules that she had discovered from experience. Actually the meaning weaved itself into the braid through a subtle interaction between her and Spirit. That way she didn’t have to bother about what to do or what notch to use as it would all unfold during the weaving.

                      She stood up and walked outside. The day was still young and she had a lot to do. The weaving ceremony was an act of spontaneity, but it required some preparation. She put the loom on a round rock to dry in the Sun and went to examine the hanging threads. She had to choose carefully.

                      #4270

                      Yorath led the way down the forest path. Eleri followed, feeling no urge to rush, despite the sense of urgency. Rather, she felt a sense of urgency to linger, perhaps even to sit awhile on a rock beneath an old oak tree, to stop the pell mell rush of thoughts and suppositions and just sit, staring blankly, listening to the forest sounds and sniffing the mushroomy mulch beneath her feet.

                      The compulsion to be alone increased. Unable to ignore it any longer, Eleri told Yorath that she would catch him up, she needed to go behind a bush for a moment, knowing quite well that there was no need for the excuse, but still, she didn’t feel like explaining. Talking, even thinking, had become tiring, exhausting even. She needed to sit, just sit.

                      She watched his retreating back and breathed a sigh of relief when his form disappeared from view. Much as she loved her dear old friend, the absence of other humans was like a breath of air to the drowning. The rustlings of the living forest, the dappling shadows and busy missions of the insects was a different kind of busyness, far from still and never silent, not always slow or sedate, not even serene or pleasant always, but there was a restful coherence to the movements of the living forest.

                      Leaning back into the tree trunk, her foot dislodged a rotten log from its resting place among the leaves ~ crisp and crunchy on the top, damp and decomposing beneath the surface ~ revealing the long slim ivory of bone contrasting sharply with the shades of brown.

                      Bones. Eleri paused before leaning over to touch it gently at first, then gently smooth away the composting detritus covering it.

                      Bones. She held it, feeling the hard dry texture peculiar to bones, loving the white colour which was more than white, a richer white than white, not bleached of colour, but full of the colours of white, and holding all of the colours of the story of it.

                      The story of the bone, the bones. She knelt, carefully brushing the leaves aside. Bones never rested alone, she knew that. Close by she knew she would find more. She knew she would take them home with her, although she knew not why. Just that she always did. A smile flitted across her face as she recalled the horse bones she’d found once ~ an entire, perfect skeleton of a horse. What she wouldn’t have given to take the whole thing home with her, but it was impossible. Perfectly assembled, picked clean and sun bleached, resplendent in the morning sun, it was a thing of unimaginable beauty that morning, reclining on the hilltop. So she took as much of the spine as she could carry, and later wished she’d taken the skull instead. And never really wondered why she didn’t go back for more.

                      But that was the thing with bones. You don’t go back. You take what you want, what you can carry, and leave the rest. But Eleri had to admit that she didn’t know why this was so.

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