Search Results for 'events'

Arona was fretting.

“Now, what is this all about? Can someone explain me? The purple sand is pretty, the green sky too, however it looks just like an insane dream from a deranged mind having abused smoke of robjane leaves.”

Framing Irtak —who was having a funny pout on his face— the dragons Heckle and Jeckle were too busy considering with an amused attention the new form and energy field that their progenitor had taken.

No words were spoken to answer Arona’s plea for answers, but answers were starting to come to them in the form of a bundle of energy which would be difficult to translate in a linear manner.

They started to understand a few things. That for one, N’meôrl the Nirgual was not here by chance, at this place and time. Again, they had travelled far in the past of the history of their dimension, and events of great importance were in motion, that they were given to witness.

At first, the flow of information they were having was like a stream they thought they had no control of, but as questions were forming they noticed that it was altering the flow which was then encompassing the answers to those questions.

Like when Jeckle wondered if he and his twin had big birdies counterparts like this one to merge with, and got the following answer “No. For you are quite new essences fragments, and thus do not yet hold focuses in similar extent to your progenitor.”

Arona was quite pleased by this new mode of getting answers, especially as she could visibly get the answers she was genuinely looking for, not those coming from questions she was only remotely interested in.

N’meôrl was showing them also, that unlike him, they were not quite physically focused into that environment, and were not noticed by the small surrounding creatures like the little red scrabs crawling in the sand. They were mainly there to observe and draw their own conclusions, as soon some events would occur.

As they’d finished absorbing the information, they started to notice a feeling of expectation in the air. N’meôrl conveyed to them that they would have to stay quiet in his peripheral awareness for “they” were coming, and he was on a delicate mission.

Footsteps on the beach.
A man approaching. He looks like Irtak and Arona, as if he had just come into this alien world from the same door they had taken. But he fails to notice them.

He stays, facing the deep green waters of the ocean brushing the shore, as if expecting someone.

A strange buzz starts to fill the space. A point of focused light the size of a pinhole appears in front of him, expands quickly with an elastic quality, and pops with a soft sound, revealing an improbably tall figure under a cloak.

The man greets the new-comer with deference
“Master Sinadron”
“Jarvis, my good friend.”

They start to walk on the beach at the unspoken invitation of the one with the smooth voice named Sinadron.

“So, I’ve been told our little matter is going very well.”
“Yes, very well, Master; I am deeply grateful for your intervention; without your help I’ve been told, my dear would not have been allowed to…”
“Let’s not talk of such things any longer; it was such a delight to help two sweet young souls so deeply in love”

Somehow, despite the words of kindness which are slithering with ease, the invisible witness got the uncanny feeling that they are but a deceptive fragment of the truth.

“Now. Tell me”, the one named Sinadron continues in a mellifluous voice “Why have you called me for?”
“The settlement you have suggested us to start on this land…”
“Yes, I am aware, please go to the point instead of labouring things I am well aware of.” The voice had sharpened a bit.
“I am sorry Master.”
“Continue”
“There is a growing dissent that…”
“And from who that shall come?”
“Err… I hear Pelorus has spoken to the Zentauras…”
“Pelorus is but a nuisance.” The voice wasn’t asking for contradiction, though an imperceptible grin was floating on the half-hidden face.
He continued “But I shall help you, once again”
“Master, you are too generous…”
“Let me finish. I will provide you with more men and women, willing to start a new life under your command, to help you grow your settlement. There are a few slaves on the Duane, that place from where you come who will do great.”
“Master…”
“They will be there in an hexade. Make sure you stand your ground until then, even if that means confronting those nasty Zentauras.”

And without waiting for the confused thanks, he disappeared, grinning widely.

Now, Dear Tina Prout (and he said this last bit a bit more firmly, hoping Tina would finally decide to change her name back to her maiden’s name Flove, which was hers before she married that Prout guy who had left her years ago, miserable and forlorn, but not without resources and quite a temperament to boot) You know, this is all about the cycle of transformations, and I’m taking great pleasure in observing the flow of events…

New Venice, March 2034

After so many “haven’t been on my honeymoon yet!” ( ¹ – ² ) , Becky was relieved to see that she had fast-forwarded time so nicely that, finally, in a few hours of time now, they would depart for Sri Lanka.

Of course, the last events with her wavering in different probabilities, and manifesting more of what she had tried —almost by reflex— to avoid were still on her mind. She had felt a bit sorry for Sean, but she knew all along that the choices were hers, and worrying unduly about others, even if that was about her dear spouse, wouldn’t be efficient at all, needless to say not even slightly helpful.
She had to concentrate more on the way she wanted to express herself. That way, she knew she would draw to her the perfectly appropriate situations —while the less than appealing stuff would recede in the background under a good dose of acceptance fairy dust.

Though still a bit weary of her unexpected pregnancy from a future traveler who hadn’t even had the tact to propose her to elope with him, her minds were fresh and excited as ever at the thought of hopping like a daft goat on the Lion’s Rock in Sigiriya. And her good mood seemed to have an infectious effect on Sean who hadn’t even inquired of what local liquor there would be on the island. Perhaps the aura of the spiritual region had already blessed Sean with some renewed optimism.

As she was fondly stuffing her skimpy honeymoon outfit in the already ready to burst piece of luggage, she smiled blissfully, remembering all of a sudden how she had forgotten to be gentle with herself these past few days, and how nice it was to treat herself with shiny and twinkling shards of spicy new adventures.
She could indeed feel the excitement of doing some psychic archeology (as her step-mother used to call that) on these spots full of collective energies that she hadn’t had the taste of in many months.

The portal has opened, we must hurry said Araili

Araili had felt something more, that he didn’t want to share yet with Akita and his spirit dog Kay. He had felt that something, or someone was trying to make its way from the wortex. However, the whole area was tightly held in a sort of quarantine by the giant spiders. Their genetic ancestral memory was aware of previous huge bleedthroughs like this one, and they had what humans would call “prophecies” amongst their kin, of such occurrences being heralds of tremendous upheavals.
Araili, who was extending far beyond this guise of a lynx that he had taken now, smiled when he thought of how some of his earthly medieval focuses would have been similarly frightened by natural events like eclipses.

It did not take long to them to find Anita’s parents. They were right at the spot that the big arachnid had just left, wrapped in silky spider bandages with little skin left to breathe.

— They seem alive. checked Akita. Heavily sedated, but alive… Now, we’ll have to get them out of here quick.
— I think I have an idea smiled Araili.

Claude had finally came out of what he thought was just a strange tree, but then, his preternatural senses where telling him something was wrong. This place looked different. No, this place felt different.
And smelt different too.

There were soft sounds, crawlings he could hear, very near his place. They were coming from him, but he would fight.
He jumped on a tree, and in a few vigorous movements, was perched on top of it.
He almost gapped when he saw the black circle of huge spiderly creatures around his tree.

They were staying at a distance from the wortex. But for how long… He couldn’t wait for his death.

From the top of the tree, Claude jumped unscathed. Taking a look around, he found exactly what he needed.
Breaking a few sharp bamboos poles, he started his move to the black circle in a prodigious and accelerated run.

From atop a nearby tree, Armelle was considering the whole scene. The wortex would probably last a few hours, perhaps a bit more. Anita, Rafaela and Yuki were about to be here soon, she had warned them of the spider circle, so that they would hide until she has found them a way to get through.

She had not expected someone to come out of it. That may be her way…

Phurt was coming closer and closer now. She could feel the surge of power, and the trepidation raising all the hair on her legs. She couldn’t possibly confront all of the sisters. Not yet.
She had to find a way to get past.

As if Arachneiax, Goddess of her kind had heard and answered her plea, a dying cry, confusion, and call for help came to her senses from a border of their circle. A perfect diversion…

The day had been long. Actually, from an outside perspective he had been apparently sleeping almost all of it, so it was not appearing as if it could be a really exhausting day at all.
But Al had been extending his body researches in the subjective. He’d started to play again with his various dream bodies he had known the existence of for quite a while now, though he hadn’t yet found the time to experiment with them fully enough. An idea he owed to Sam, who he had been pleased to hear about his unusual experiences in the Australian bush, or more accurately, in the Dreamtime.

Playing with these various “bodies”, or qualities of attention and perception, he was aware that his thoughts on the recent events occurring in their story was still unfolding in the backstage of his attention. A rehearsal perhaps…
Nevertheless, he was delaying the actual representation, for he felt he was not yet ready for it.
He could feel lots of information waiting for him to download them and process them. But he wanted to do it with clarity.

Last try had not been very convincing… He had dreamt of a midget Tina, in a flowing mauve and lemon chiffon dress. Of course, in the dream he had taken great care of not hurting her feelings, all the more since she seemed so fond of the dress. He couldn’t really tell her that the dress was giving her an enormous butt and that she was rolling her hips comically when she was walking… Impossible…
While dream-Al was searching for words to truthfully convey his appreciation of whatever little thing that could be left to appreciate on that dress, dream-Sam had been quick to tell dream-Tina she looked like fairy Nuf. What had he said! She soon started to weep noisily. Fairy Nuf, as anyone knew, is a purple-clad plump grumpy fairy, with a pointy hat and she couldn’t possibly look that bad.
Speak about clarity…

Al tried again to concentrate. Taking deep breathes.

He could feel more and more clearly the presence of the woman. Her aura was beckoning, and she seemed to want to share information with him —pieces of information he would be free to tell others or not, it didn’t matter.
What mattered was that there was this deep desire for this information which was coming from him; and equally as deep as his, her own desire to share was palpable.

“ Salome ” he whispered “ I am ready to see… ”
He soon started to fall into another lucid dream…

— Of course I will introduce you, said Phoebe calmly, Franiel, meet Vincentius.

— That’s funny you say that, said Franiel recovering his marbles after a bit of an aghast moment. This name sounds oddly familiar… Is… he a talking parrot?
— Oh, yes of course, said Phoebe Chesterhope, though that’s not the least of its particularities she added with an eerie smile on her thin wrinkled mouth.
The others, you said she snapped back, her gaze suddenly sharp as a sword. I suppose you’ll meet them, unless you’ve got already.
— I’m not sure to know what you’re talking about, Milady said Franiel slightly perplexed.
— Oh well, I can see from the clothes you are wearing that you’re coming from a place of peace and sainthood. This place is a haven too, in many ways. This place has been kept as such since a few centuries, and I intend it to stay that way. Though the Others are devising ploys always more clever to have a hand on this place. For that, I know how to keep a keen eye on what’s happening, she said with a troubling wink to her parrot.
— The valley is surely a nice place, said Franiel not sure of what he should say.
— To the contrary. It’s full of marauders if you ask me, but for good reason. Uleÿa’s valley is a place not easily reached, and there are not many portals around here. No official ones at least… So in a sense, it’s an exchange of good will between me and them.

Franiel was not sure he wanted to delve more into all this intricate political web of alliances and plots, no more than he wanted to be involved in religious beliefs and fanaticisms…

— I can see you are a little troubled, but you’ll find your place in all these events, assuredly, Phoebe said gently. But be certain that whenever you are wanting yourself out of them, you sure will find yourself right in the midst of them, without you even knowing it.
— I only want to be a good man, and do the least evil in this World, I suppose finally answered Franiel after an awkward moment.
— This, I am sure is true… You know, I’m a little bit of a witch, I mean, intuitive person, and I can pick up images from yourself. I’m not sure about some of them, but most of them are as clear as the waters of Uleÿa. Take your time to feel at home around here. Vincentius will answer you if you need anything, in any case better than Lydia or Derwent.
— But… I mean no offense here, dear Lady,… Vincentius is but a parrot, isn’t it?

Phoebe sighed for a moment then took Franiel by the arm, so quickly and firmly he didn’t see it coming, and couldn’t move, hypnotised by the firm grip of the woman.

— Listen carefully, my friend. I can see you can be trusted, as much as your mind is thirsty for the truth, so I will tell you. Vincentius is no mere creature. He’s the result of a little experiment I had once with a former guest of mine. Another divine being, as pure and innocent as you, going by the same very name of this creature. I captured a spark of his radiant aura, and mixed it with an egg I had kept for the occasion. And so it was born. A perfect spy, as well as a faithful friend.

Franiel recoiled in horror… What have you done?!

— Oh, don’t be so dramatic, my young friend Phoebe said with a little giggle. No one has been harmed, and even if at times, there seem to be some side-effect when my former guest seems to see or speak through my parrot, it all has gone very well… And no, I don’t intend to do it to you… Don’t give me silly ideas, ahahah.

Midora was perplexed. These books were like an open-ended uncharted territory. That territory was so vast and fractal-like in nature that each attempt at following a single thread seemed daunting. There were always details growing like a reckless plant from the entry points where she started her investigations. Badul seemed lost in this jungled maze.
Last time she’d tried to connect, she ended up with another focus of his, a child, vaguely related to the crystal skulls hunt.

All it requires is a proper compass to navigate the thought suddenly appeared in her mind as clear as daylight, carrying with it a trail of concepts and clusters of associated ideas.
One in particular…
She’d had that book of designs she’d always loved to read when she was a child. It was full of colorful symbols which were called by the authors “tiles”. The authors associated some properties to them, and she remembered one which was about a compass…
So she had found a compass… Now, she would have to learn how to use it. The introduction of the book said:

The tiles presented in this book all have different functions; they can be primarily understood as focal points which enhance specific uses of energy. […] As far as we know, they can be discovered in many situations, either objective events (e.g. something that catches your gaze in the street) or in the subjective (dreams, visions, inspirations etc.). In both cases, the recognition is instantaneous, as each tile carries a distinctive energetic signature which is the essence of its “function”, so to speak.
As such, it can be used theoretically in both situations (subjective and objective), though, as far as we have explored, subjective interaction with them seem to be the easiest and most quickly rewarding way of accessing them.

Subjective interaction, yes that was child’s play, she would have said, though she could vaguely understand why people before the Shift completed had more trouble accessing it. Objective wasn’t so difficult, once you get to the idea that it’s all one, and you can easily switch from each of the attentions used to focus on them.

The only thing that doesn’t seem to change, she thought, is the numbering. Even when the events shuffle through the pages and reorder themselves, or even when the very energy of the event subtly changes, their numbers were the same. She could start with that.

She cleared her mind, envisioning the compass, then took a deep breath and asked herself a question, Where do I find Badul?
Slowly, the compass started to shift and turn, while numbers started to roll in front of her mind’s eye, and like a lottery, at each draw a number appeared, slowly revealing a number: 1-2-3-8

She eagerly leafed through the books to find the reference. Well… that was more perplexing than ever, that seemed like a totally unrelated story.
But now, she was not so sure about that, as she read the entry and wondered about the fact that it seemed once again different from the first time she’d read it.

And now, she marveled as a new entry started to write itself under that one. It was the first time she actually saw an entry write itself. Those she had spotted that were not here before, she just assumed they had appeared instantaneously. But not this one… and it started to link Franiel’s and Badul’s explorations…

I’m wondering where Irtak and the twin dragons have gone… The thought just struck Leormn.

They’d probably been exploring the outside of the cave of these past events… But they couldn’t afford staying here for too long. Not so much because of the chilling environment of the Marshes… In fact, as soon as they had all appeared here, they’d been at first mere translucent unfocused spirits, but the longer they stayed, the more they became physical and solid here.

Georges and Salome had wished Malvina to see something here before their departure to other ventures.
Possibly, the twins and Irtak were part of the plan too… Not to mention Arona…

If his calculations were correct, they had a little more than a hexade left before they would be completely merged into that timeline, and after that… It would be less easy to come back…
That would require the mediation of the Guardians.
And all things considered, Leormn was less than enthusiast about that solution.

I googled Circle of Eights

Give pairs seven post-its and ask the children to write down the main scenes. Take feedback and allow children to adjust/add to their post-its. Pairs then work on listing the scenes and sticking them in order. They should disregard any scenes that are not crucial, and just keep the key events.

Agree with the class the basic key scenes. Demonstrate how to make a few notes about each scene to help with a retelling.

In pairs, children make notes about each scene to help with retelling the tale. These should be kept to the barebones. In pairs, practice retelling the story, taking it in turns. Then put pairs together to retell their versions to another pair.

If time allows, build this up to circles of eight.

End the session by hearing several retellings. Encourage the children to evaluate between tellings, refining and improving their version.

Explore ways of altering the retellings. Children decide to alter one aspect. They then retell the tale, with the alteration. Pairs should then move into fours
and retell their new versions.

Build up to circles of eight if time allows.

The children recommend a version they have heard that is really effective. Listen to these, and as a class evaluate what makes an effective retelling. This enables more in-depth evaluation, especially by the storytellers themselves.

Up to now, 71 events entered in the dataset, mostly from the first 300+ comments of the story thread; a bit more than half of the story… Half sync someone?

If you spot some unplotted event on the map that you wish to have plotted, or some event missing or not what you think it should be, this thread is for you!

[For legacy] A more complete view of the current set of data here

I will reintegrate into the main layout (done), and complete the dataset, but I post it here so that you can play a bit with the various filters and maps…
In the meantime, should you have any suggestion on the events to add, or locations to adjust, feel free to tell me…

When Felicity had taken the job, she had thought at first that it was all a big interstellar joke…
Come on… Dead people speaking though living?
But a few recent experiences made her feel there was kind of warmth surrounding her when she started the radiophonic sessions, and that she was feeling… inspired, for lack of a better word.
Words indeed were coming and flowing, and even though she was rarely speechless, the words did have some different quality.
And people enjoyed the show greatly, and mails kept coming to the radio thanking DDT for all of the marvelous advices…

Till then, as she was conscious of the process, she had refrained issuing some definite statements on future events, as the inspiration was pressing her to do at times. As subtle as all of this was, she was feeling it was not really the same energy as the warm one; it was like incursions of a quicker and less stable bouncy energy.
It was pushing her to make cocky statements, on mass events about to come… Oh, not again self-fulfilling prophecies, please! she couldn’t help but think…

At times, Felicity was even wondering whether she was really going completely crazy.
Oh, it was so much simpler to be a genuine fraud…

— Arky, come here at once!
— But, I’ve done nothing…
— Stop being such a jackanapes, will you… You know very well there is no secret…
— Yes…

Despite his being immaterial, it was obvious that the One referred to as Arky was being scolded.

— And you know perfectly well there is nothing to gain in pushing things…
— But I intended well…
— I know that. As generations of focuses of leaders and presidents have been doing. One would have assumed you’d knew better by now… I can see you’re enjoying being with me on the soapbox, but either you find your own, or you better stay clear next time we get a communication.
— Understood.
— Fine, class dismissed.

— A marmoset then… Georges said Salome grinning widely.
— Yes. Did you get a name for him?
— Leo.
— That’s cute… With his little white mane around his face, Malvina will love him.

Leo had jumped on Salome’s shoulder, as it was a bit exhausting for the little creature to follow them.

— You know they are disappearing on this island of Tikfijikoo where I was just before. I think they found the invasion of their habitat by humans no longer funny. Lots of them have already popped into another reality for their kind… It takes some adjustment to refocus and reconfigure the energy, but it seems to go smoothly, as Leo being here is proof.
— Yes, as lots of old species on Earth ware doing. The relocation process is a bit energetically crowded, in a manner of speaking…
Georges was finding usage of words in that dimension a bit uneasy. That ware was such an example of how language needed rearrangement when they talked about simultaneous events in both past and present. At least, he knew Salome was understanding beyond the words.

Salome smiled and envisioned Georges and herself bathed into a field of fluid mulberry jelly colour, and around them some of the particles floating haphazardly around started to gather orbiting in rippling circles around them.
Salome was remembering an undulating shape too that she could use as a tuning fork, and she added it inside the central circle.

— Oh, you’re right…

« the translation device ! » they both said simultaneously, bursting into laughter.

— I always tend to forget about that funny toy Malvina once explained to me. And you know how much I love to play with it… when I remember it, of course…

Malvina had told Georges that the particles which were in his field were assisting him in translation, and had a grounding and focusing effect.

Leo started to applaud frantically at the new light quality of the energy.

Mmmm, Captain,… isn’t that legend a bit long-winded? Tomkin had asked to Captain Bone.

It had been six nights now that the Captain had told bits of that legend to Tomkin, and even if it was entertaining, Tomkin was more and more impatient to get back to meatier stuff, like galleons full of ancient magical treasures, corsairs from the Warring Kingdoms coasts, strange unknown races from far-off lands… that would be more mouth-watering than this endless legend…

Captain Bone had laughed.

— Aaaaah, Tomkin… of course you know I like to tell long stories, and make them longer each time I recall them, but you see, there is also a point in all of that adventure. Mævel’s story is also the story of all of us in a way. Of course, I could tell you how it ends, but in a way it never really ends. More important is for you to see it unfold and that you appreciate the unfolding. The ending is not important in a way. Each and every time this story is recalled, it is different, because it adapts to what is happening right now. Do you see?
— So what is the point of telling me that story? It was supposed to tell me something about this strange knotted object, but I don’t see any link.
— Ahahahaha, the point is precisely that Tomkin. I am telling you my story, but this object makes you hear your own story through my words.

Now, Tomkin Sharple was squatting on the sand near the bonfire lit by Badul’s crew, and he was recalling the words from the Captain. At that time, when he didn’t know a thing about that strange magical object, he had not understood a thing of what the Captain had said.
But now, it started to make sense, some sense at least. Each time the Captain had told him bits of the legend, Tomkin had been fidgeting the strange object, making the Captain smile. Perhaps the object’s magic was not only acting as a translation device…
There was something more about it. He was no longer sure that the Captain’s story had been what he was recalling. Perhaps it was completely different, and he had translated it…
Still, the object had apparently helped him understand what Badul and his men wanted, so it was translating truthfully. But what was a faithful translation?

Then, a flash came into Tomkin’s mind. The Captain had given the object to him. He’d said it was about connections. Being connected.
Till then, Tomkin had been the only one to touch it. He had not even revealed the source of his gift to Badul.
But in the Captain’s case, both of them had been touching it. In sharing that link, they had extended trust to each other, and somehow, they had been mirrors for each other. Perhaps that was what Captain Bone meant when he said that Tomkin was hearing his own story through the Captain’s words.

Tomkin laid down on the warm sand, looking at the clear starry night.

— The legend of Mævel — (Part VI)

Inside the warm burrow, Mævel found a bed of dry leaves and tender moss. She could see some light from the moon, coming through holes in the ground, which were bringing in some fresh air too. Cuddling comfortably into the makeshift bed, she started to sleep peacefully, waiting for her friend the blue fox to come back.

Half-asleep on the beach, Tomkin was wondering… What had happened the next morning… This was fuzzy in this memory, as if the events were moving and reorganising themselves. All that he remember was that Mævel had met the blue fox, but there were myriads of possible events, and all of them were possible, dancing now in front of him.
He could chose any of them… But, would that make the story the same?
Then he recalled that it was his own story… So why make it difficult then…

The voice of Captain Bone was resounding in his ear “You find value in hardships, and value is important to you and our kind. In these lands full of magic, we could just do anything, but somehow you’ll find that rare are the people who constantly use magic. Because when magic is used to make things happen instantaneously, it shifts everything around it to accommodate the changes asked by the summoner of the magic. And it can be overwhelming when too big are the differences between the too states, as we are accustomed to live within a continuity. That’s why I tell you to enjoy the ride of that legend.
Think of it… You could be Emperor of all Lands if you knew how to use magic for such a feat. But would you do that instantaneously? Slim chances. You wouldn’t know how to behave as an Emperor, and on top of that, you probably would find the new aspect of you who is an Emperor to be overwhelming to your present aspect of little Tomkin.”

Okay, Tomkin said… No need to skip directly to the last part… she meets the blue fox in his den, and Mævel learns about the curse of the fox.

— Oh, really? Mævel was saying
— Yes, I was a bit of a fool… the blue fox was telling her. But, the silver lining is that there is a way to counteract the curse. But I will need your help again, if you want.
— I want to help you.
— Fine. You know about Shaint Lejüs Festival?
— Mmm, yes, my parents told me about that. It’s the Day of the Forgotten, isn’t it?
— and of the Accursed Ones.
— Oh…
— That special day of the year, the Gates of Lejüs’ Realm are opened and Forgotten and Accursed Ones are given a chance to be Remembered or Graced.
— Every year? Why then aren’t all of them Remembered?
— Mostly because the Living Ones dread this day. They are the only ones to be able to free the Demanders, and they quickly felt haunted by the Demanders. So they did rituals to keep the Demanders away from them, as certainly your human parents did.
— Yes, I remember now…
— There is another reason actually. Forgotten Ones can only be Remembered when they recover their true name, and only a strong bond like love or some potent magic can force it out of Lejüs’ graps.
— And Accursed Ones?
— For them to be Graced, they need to do one pure act of altruism.
— A simple act?
— Don’t be fooled, it’s not as simple as it seems. See, I tried to rescue a woman who was drowning herself into the river, but that hunter thought I was attacking her… The fact was that she was willing to be Forgotten, and that my act was not purely altruistic.
— How so? You probably saved her life?
— Yes, but that was not what she wanted, and when she cried that I let go of her, I only wanted her out of the waters, because of me…
— I understand. And how can I help?
— One altruistic act for me would be to help a Forgotten One to be Remembered. That’s what they ask for, but it’s difficult for them to get past the barriers of the Living Ones.
— Shaint Lejüs Festival is tomorrow…
— Yes, have as much rest as you need, Mæ. We will see tomorrow what will occur…