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In reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods
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.
In reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods
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.
In reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods
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.In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud
sun bird
careful started beginning mushrooms
desire spell glass hope floor
night taking melon send turned behind fur
dust elderly approachingIn reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud
glowing fence mean visit forgotten
felt focus sunny witch behind wisdom
hungry stories taking early under eggs
keep laughing carefully natureIn reply to: Eight Turns of the Wheel
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.”
In reply to: Eight Turns of the Wheel
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 ROAD – CONTINUOUS
ALBIE rushes along the street, followed by MATT. They take a short cut through some back gardens, jumping fences along the way.
INT. A LIBRARY – SHORTLY 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 PARK – BACK 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 LIBRARY – PRESENT 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 SHOP – LATER 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?In reply to: Eight Turns of the Wheel
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!”
In reply to: Eight Turns of the Wheel
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.
In reply to: The Precious Life and Rambles of Liz Tattler
“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.
In reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods
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.”
In reply to: The Precious Life and Rambles of Liz Tattler
“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.”
In reply to: The Precious Life and Rambles of Liz Tattler
“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!”
In reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods
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.
In reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods
“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.”
In reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods
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.
In reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods
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.
In reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods
The cave’s entrance was glowing in a golden light. The fresh snow had blanketed the entrance that the midday sun was bathing with warm rays through the fog.
The cave was hanging perilously on the precarious slopes of the mountainous ranges, where only a few woolly goats could safely reach its heights without fear of breaking their necks. It was a safe haven for the Hermit.
Below the cave, the vast expanse of the Forest was almost entirely white, except for its fringe, far from the mountains, where the cities had flowered, and except from its center, the darker Dragon Heartwood with its reds and greens that seemed almost black in contrast.She was known as the Hermit by most of the Faes living in the forest, a honorary title if not slightly belittling when they called her that. To others, she was often known by different colorful names. Sometimes when she was seen flying in her bird skin, accompanying the giant raptor birds from the plateaus with her long white hair flowing to the wind, surveying from above the life of the land, she would gain other names as well.
Her shaman name was Kumihimo, or weaver of threads. In the cave, many threads were carefully hanged onto a long line, without particular noticeable pattern, either by colors and material. All were different. Her birds friends, big or smaller would often bring her threads from many great distances. She would hang them here, without particular care, or so it seemed to the naked eye.It had been a long time she had weaved any of them, or had the impulse to.
But she had dreamt.
She never dreamt. To dream for her was a matter of crucial importance.
She had dreamt of seven threads.
It was time she made a new braid.In reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods
Tak holds the bamboo flute carefully against his chest. The clothes are two sizes too large for his natural appearance, but he did not dare change to human form.
He is looking through the window at the snow falling gently. He isn’t used to not smell the forest nearby, and seeing it through the window without its smell is utterly fascinating.
The old woman is always busy, writing on paper, weaving goat’s hair, cleaning vigorously and when she isn’t, she is busy talking to herself. He doesn’t mind the chatter, oftentimes gibbons are chatty too.
“Are you hungry? He’s going to be fine you know” the kind woman talks to him again. The goat nearby seems used to it, and is busy eating straws. “Let me see your flute, I will teach you how to play.”
He looks at her with an air of surprise.
“But for that you’ll have to take your human form.” She smiles warmly to him. He doesn’t know how she knows, but he knows she knows.
“I’ve seen many strange things at the edge of the Enchanted Forest’s heart, you see. That’s what I like here, you have to expect the unexpected.”
By breathing slowly, he’s able to regain his human child appearance and asks with a voice full of hesitation, handing over the precious instrument “Music?”
In reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods
Gibbon was peeling a red apple at the end of their impromptu lunch. He handed a thin slice to Fox who took it and chewed it carefully. It was sweet and juicy, prompting him to want more.
They had returned to Fox’s hut outside the city wall. It had not the comfort that plumbing and central heating could bring, but its four walls were enough to protect them from the chilly air outside and give them a sense of proximity. Humans like to be in human sized boxes, thought Fox. They lived in boxes they called houses; they went to work in other boxes they called bank, or smithery, or medical centre —even their outdoor markets were full of virtual boxes called booth or stand; then they had fun in another kind of boxes they called Inn, or Night Club, or brothel (depending on the persona).
“You’re thinking again,” said Gibbon without raising his eyes from his apple. He handed another slice to Fox who was impressed and annoyed by how his master could read him so easily. Maybe it was luck or real power. Gibbon never told about how he did all that he did. He only said: “I’m not sure that would help you quiet your thoughts.” And that was the end of the subject.
Fox took the slice and came back to his conscientious mastication. It was the rule, he had learned, with Gibbon. You don’t talk when you eat. You don’t think when you eat. You just eat, and breath when you are not swallowing. Fox felt like he was back into the Southern forest where Gibbon had found him, the lone survivor of a litter of five. His mother had been killed, and already four of his siblings were dead. Gibbon, who was already old at that time, took him in and taught him the wisdom of breathing innate among his kind. Fox then did as he was taught, focus his attention on his actions, and particularly on his breathing at all time. It helped him focus and calm down his heart.
After they finished the apple and cleaned the place a bit, Gibbon took a deep breath. Fox knew it was the time he would Talk.
“You’ve been looking for a reason,” said the old master in a breath. Fox was all ears, he almost began to feel them becoming pointy again. He moved his attention back to his breathing and peace filled in his heart again. It was mingled with the excitement of listening to his old master’s voice again, but Fox sticked to the peace and the excitement subsided naturally.
“I’m going to give you an assignment,” continued Gibbon in between his long breaths. His eyes were shiny and seemed to glow in the dim light of the hut. He wasn’t blinking. He never blinked when he Talked. “I see you’ve mastered the power of breathing. You need to learn the wisdom of the Heart now.”
Fox was ready. He had been for many years. Even when Fox left the Southern forest to find his destiny he was ready. He now realised he left because Gibbon would not teach him. And now, he came to teach me! Fox let the thought and the excitement subside again. His master would not Talk again until it was quiet.
“IIIIIIII’m not going to teach you,” said the master. “You are going to find your own master for this one.”
“But you are my master,” said Fox, not understanding why it was happening again. “You have the power of the Heart. You can teach me.”
“IIIIII’m not your master on this one, Fox. I taught you all I was supposed to teach you. No less, no more.”
“Where will I find my master then?”
“You will find him in time. But first your assignment,” said Gibbon. He paused to breath deeply, his eyes intense as the full Moon. “You’ll find a lost soul in the enchanted forest. Bring it back to its rightful owner. Then you shall find your master.”
Fox had opened his mouth to ask him how he could find a lost piece of soul, or what a piece of soul looked like, but Gibbon had already closed his eyes and entered in a deep meditation from where there were no outside interruption possible. He stood up and stretched his body. There was no need to wait aimlessly around, hoping Gibbon would come out of his meditation state soon. It could last days, even weeks.
While packing a few things he would need on the road, like food, a knife, some clothes, Fox pondered his options. Going in the enchanted forest looking randomly for something he didn’t even know about seemed to much like his old self. He needed some more information and he had an idea about who could give them to him. The witch from the market. She would know. And she lived in the enchanted forest.
Before closing the hut’s door, Fox looked at his master one last time. His body was very still, if you didn’t know him, you’d think he was not breathing. He had a serene smile on his face. Fox smiled and felt the love of his master and his master’s way fill his heart. He had given him a purpose, and for that Fox was grateful. He shut the door quietly and began to walk toward the enchanted forest. He heard ducks in the distance, it was as if they were singing. He laughed. It was mid afternoon. If he walked at a good pace, he would arrive at the old mansion before nightfall.
