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  • #934
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      New Venice, March 2034

      After so many “haven’t been on my honeymoon yet!” ( ¹² ) , 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.

      #904

      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.

      :fleuron:

      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.

      :fleuron:

      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…

      :fleuron:

      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…

      #893

      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…

      #854

      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.

      #824

      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…

      #822

      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.

      #1722

      In reply to: Synchronicity

      TracyTracy
      Participant

        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.

        #742

        Due to the unusual events in the year 2026, Nishanti and her five sisters lived in the reconstructed ancient city of Hingapooloopi that had been submerged beneath the ocean for centuries. There had been a series of tsunami’s and eathquakes and volcanic eruptions resulting in an enormous hole appearing in the sea bed into which a considerable amount of Indian Ocean sea water had disappeared, lowering the sea levels in some locations, mainly those that had risen slightly due to shifting tectonic plates.

        Ten year old Nishanti and her five sisters (Hinni, 3; Yaso, 5; Yuvani, 7; Eromi, 13; and Nanda, 16) had lost their parents, and indeed most of their relatives, due to an unfortunate mishap in the kitchens two years previously in the year 2032 at the wedding party of their brother, Chandra. Gayesh, Nishanti’s eldest brother had mistakenly included poisonous red berries in the desert. Fortunately, Nishanti and her sisters had been reading the Snoot Q&A column in The Tarty Nun girls magazine that they had procured without their parents knowledge from a school trip of American tourists, in which Snoot had advised against red fruits.

        Hingapooloopi was located on the land bridge , once again exposed, between Sri Lanka and the Indian continent. The reconstruction had been an enormously interesting undertaking, and Nishanti’s uncle Roshan had been involved in the ground work excavations. He found many artifacts, which he smuggled off the building site, and secreted under the floorboards of the old family home in the highlands . Perhaps the most interesting one was the crystal skull; certainly it was the one that Nishanti found the most intriguing.

        #740
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Becky huddled behind a bush, shivering, and trying desperately to pull down the ridiculously short dress she was wearing.

          I can’t believe I came out wearing my honeymoon outfit, she grumbled crossly. No wonder that Gondola man kept sniggering and pulling his sweater down to his knees. PFFFT! The only nasty habit around here is not looking in the f’kin’ mirror before I leave the house.

          Becky tried to phone Al again, and then events took a turn for the worse. Her phone battery was dead.

          #2142

          In reply to: Story Timeline and Map

          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            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!

            #92
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              :face-glasses: :paperclip: In the timeline tab [for legacy] I’ve added at the bottom a link towards the slightly styled version of the full list of registered events if you want to have them all before your eyes.
              I plan on adding some of the last ones, to help keep track… well, sort of :yahoo_hypnotized:

              #2138

              In reply to: Story Timeline and Map

              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                [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…

                #647

                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…

                :fleuron:

                — 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.

                #620
                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  The Story Vincentius told to Arona

                  I was seven when my father died. He leapt into a swollen river to help a neighbor who was drowning. He saved the neighbor but could not save himself. Everyone called him a hero but my mother called him a stupid fool. She was filled with sadness for her loss, and anger that he would leave her in such a way. I remember she got a pair of big scissors from the sewing box and cut off her long hair. For weeks after that I would see her move her hand to brush her long hair away and suddenly realise it was no longer there and I would see her go still. Then her body would slump and she would stand there looking lost and not knowing what to do. One day her heart just stopped beating. They said she died of grief but I think it was that life had become an empty hole that just got deeper and darker. I don’t think that is the same as grief, but maybe it is. My three older sisters and I cried and cried when my father died, but I never once saw her cry.

                  When my mother died we had to cry in secret, because my Grandmother Naja moved in to take care of us. She didn’t believe in crying. There were many things she didn’t believe in. Grandmother Naja ate like a bird, looked like a piece of old leather and moved like a skittery rabbit.

                  Vincentius she would say to me, peering at me shortsightedly, you need to get bigger. Your parents are dead and you are now the man of the house. Every day she would poke me in the ribs and say Vincentius, you need to get bigger”. Every time she poked me I remembered all over again that I was not good enough and that my parents were dead.

                  One day she sent Taffy, the second oldest sister out to the garden to get a cabbage. But there were no cabbages left the garden. Well! said Grandmother Naja, I can’t cook cabbage broth without any cabbage. So she gave Taffy a coin and sent my sisters into the Village to buy a cabbage from the market.

                  I begged to go too.

                  You are too small and you are too slow! said my sisters

                  Eventually though they gave in to my pleading.

                  I have often wondered if I knew the events that day would bring, if I would have begged so hard to go, mused Vincentius

                  to be continued …

                  #536

                  The room was grey.

                  Since she had been raped by the guards Atiara was mute, and closed in herself. It had been a very freaking experience, and quite new to her.
                  She was virgin then and quite unaware of those aspects.

                  Fortunately, it had been only once, at her arrival in this prison…
                  The guards had threatened her not to tell anything, but she was already gone so to speak. All her will gone, all her hope gone, all her joy gone.

                  It’s been 3 weeks ago. She’d barely ate and drink. And she’d been left alone. The guards were not speaking to her. They didn’t even try after those events.

                  #480

                  Did you tell them about the, you know……Paquita asked Jose, lowering her voice despite the fact that they were alone.

                  What? Oh THAT. No, are you kidding? Only a stranger would agree to live in my finca, Paqui, you know that! Everyone local knows about the… you know…

                  What if they find it?

                  They won’t find it, Jose hoped he sounded more confident than he felt. There had been weird goings on at the finca for years; much more so lately: it was increasing. Ever since he’d found that hole in the side of the large pyramid shaped hill, there had been ghostly goings on, odd sounds, peculiar smells, flashes of coloured lights, all manner of strange and disconcerting events.

                  Jose Maria was glad he was leaving. He’d miss the goats, but well, he could hardly take them with him. The goats would be ok without him.

                  He couldn’t venture to say the same about the two English dears though. Time would tell.

                  #463

                  — 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.

                  #414

                  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…

                  #1311

                  In reply to: Yuki’s Livrary

                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    October 23 rd

                    “I may express to you that each of these chapters basically, so to speak, are not necessarily identified by one particular action, or that they are accomplishing one particular direction, in a manner of speaking. But that they all incorporate actions and movements that create a contribution to your awareness in this focus.

                    “They all lend, in a manner of speaking, energy through experiences to you within THIS focus that benefits your movement in allowing yourselves to widen your awareness and insert this shift in consciousness into your actual objective reality.

                    “As I have stated, this shift in consciousness, in a manner of speaking, is an enormous undertaking. It is a Source Event. And as you are aware, Source Events are so immense within consciousness that they may not be entirely inserted into your physical dimension. They are, in your terms physically speaking, larger than your dimension incorporates the capacity to express.

                    “Therefore, in recognizing this immensity of this movement and this creation within your reality, one focus, one time framework would be overwhelmed in attempting to create this type of movement singularly, and independent of other energy and other focuses that may be creating experiences that shall offer you as essence the type of opening within this physical experience that shall allow for this insertion of this shift into your actual objective reality.” [Elias, March 02, 2001]

                    #305

                    Quintin couldn’t sleep.
                    Now he was thinking, he had delayed it for too long.
                    They all had been thinking of it, talking and glossing over it for so long. Some had dreamed of it, feared it, asked for it to bugger off. Lots of pains and struggles, but it had only been clever or not so clever ways to delay the unavoidable.

                    Now, he had an urge to insert it. How come he had not thought of it before. All he had to do was insert it in his reality.
                    Well, that would sure mean lots of changes, but after all, no pain no gain.
                    Or no abundance.

                    ABUNDANCE abun·dance [ ə-ˈbən-dəns ] “The ability to do what you need to do, when you need to do it”

                    That’s how Pasha, a Russian friend of Dory had defined abundance — speaking of Dory, now Quintin was seeing how she was ahead of the herd, and a bit of a coal (slow) mine canary too. Quintin would have changed all the world’s dictionaries to have that new definition everywhere. What a task…

                    Actually, that’s it! Quintin had feared the implications, as lots of people did.
                    It would mean everything would be allowed. Everything would be true, even the most blatant contradictions would be harmoniously living side by side. Struggle would be needless, and all that would be needed to do would be to stop paddling upstream.
                    What a mess it could be for salmons and control freaks as himself.

                    Perhaps worse, it would change everything, even “past” events where everything would also be allowed, now.
                    In-of-body travels (rather than the too classical “out-of-body”), meeting other selves appearing out of nowhere, talking with dead people, or sugarplum fairies, traveling instantaneously to meet Tchaikovsky and have him change his dying swan for a stuffed talking Mother Goose, flying, shape-shifting, manifesting objects out of thin air, the possibilities would be extraordinary… All in that physical reality where everyone was struggling to prove none of this was possible.
                    But if everything would be allowed, then be it! And he would go and live in 23, Dragon Alley, Phœnix Ville, Sunnyvalley with Yann (and the others of course, if they wanted to) and do whatever they wanted to do.

                    OK. That’s a deal then. Release the camouflages, open the watergates and leave the damn dams to beavers and loosers.

                    Let’s insert the Shift, now.

                    And let the fun continue, and worry wither away.

                    ***

                    Well, and what’s that Shift all about?

                    Quintin’s friends Michaela and Elias had said about it :

                    “You are also bored in the experiences that you have created to this point. You have experienced. You have created in the manner that you have designed previously. Now you choose to be creating in an expanded experience, allowing more of your awareness, more of an opening to consciousness, more of your own creativity and your own abilities, and you are discovering that your abilities are within physical focus limitless. You have merely limited yourselves as an element of your beliefs, but as you are also moving into acceptance of your beliefs, you are widening your awareness and you are allowing yourselves to view how many more abilities you hold and how very creative you are, and not creating your limitations with such severity. Those elements in your reality that have been thought to be impossible are not impossible!” 1

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