The legend of The Weaving Princess

Once upon a time, in the Warring Kingdom of Landgurdy, lived the Yellow Princess Atiara. She was living with her father, the Yellow King of Landgurdy in the Subtle Palace of Aram Ardun, the capital.

The day of Her 20 ^th birthday was a very special day. As for any normal citizen of the Warring Kindgom, it was the day She fully became an adult. And furthermore, it was the day of Her wedding with the man to whom she was betrothed the day of her 12 ^th birthday, Prince Shomar At Gurna from the War Clan Gurna Drom.

The Yellow King had organized a sumptuous banquet in the Palace, and although the people of Landgurdy was not invited in the Palace, many banquets had been set all around the country. Only the War Clanners of Landgurdy were to be admitted in Her presence in this most special day.

At the very moment of the blessing by the Priest of Tatasi, the slaughter had already been perpetrated. The treacherous War Clanner Namad Gurdin had made an agreement with the Warring Kingdom of Cromash Tur. One of them had been replaced by the Assassin Varad Romash Karad Din, Master of this infamous Guild. Cromash Tur had sworn that very day would be the end of the Landgurdy. And it was. Many had tried to unfold the mystery of the sudden death of all the War Clanners and the Nobles present at that moment. The fact is that they were all found dead by the servants who were intrigued by the silence following the blessing… No wound, no trace of poison. The death of all these people remains a mystery.

Though, two were missing. The Assassin, and the Yellow Princess.

Cromash Tur’s army invaded the Landgurdy shortly after that… No resistance encountered, no more War Clanners to assure the safety of the land.

Though Cromash Tur’s Warlord always denied having captured the Yellow Princess, she was supposed held captive in an unknown shadowy place of the Marshes of Doom.

The Death Guards were keeping an eye on her, and every cloth, every dish, every book that was given to her was meticulously checked. Nothing was to bear the slightest trace of yellow. According to the legend, her family was famous with their use of this magic color, one of their most powerful talent was the control of the weather pattern, and the King of Cromash Tur feared strongly she would use her power to destroy his Kingdom if She could see a yellow dot.

The Marshes of Doom were so grey and shadowy, she could never see any trace of yellow there.

(to be continued)

Set of Maps

Political map of the Warring Kingdoms

• Erpet Mesh (green)
• Ata Meliu (yellow)
• Cromash Tur (red)
• Dam Adbor (purple)

• Portal Network map
  blahblah

For the benefit of Finn, who wondered, here is an excerpt of an interesting conversation:
(# 241)

TP: ok, so Sean and Becky get it together then, and have triplets, then quintuplets
TP: then quads
TP: IVF
TP: hahaahhaah
Q: wow
TP: 12 kids
Q: poor Becky Pooh
Q:
TP: and Sam is godfather
TP: oh she finds she loves it
TP: haahahahah
Q: interesting
TP: but, Sean drinks a lot, and Sam helps her

— The legend of Mævel — (Part III)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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]

October 23 ^rd

Badul in Northern Asgurdy

Tomkin gazing at golfindels

Becky in New Venice waiting for a gondocab

Al was concerned about Tina. He wondered why at times it was like their moods were at the antipodes of each other. Like one was in summer when the other one was in winter. Of course, seasons had gone awfully awry in the past (well, in people’s perception at least), and cherry trees were at times blooming in the late autumn, so that was hardly a good metaphore. Enfin bref…
Sometimes he wished they could move to a part of the Earth were the differences were leveled or not so dramatic, but of course, that would be focusing unduly on what seems awry, and not appreciating the differences for what they brought in understanding for each other.

Like most people now, Tina and him were living in a free relationship, not bonded by written contracts, just by a mutual wish to be experiencing a common exploration. But lately, especially with the play writing, deep issues had surfaced between them, and he was no longer sure of what they were exploring, as it was like shifting sands. Of course, now, most people were shifted themselves, thanks to the new generations of children who were exceptionally gifted in accessing their own essence. But for them, in their mid-30s, there were still issues linked to their old patterns of thoughts, many deeply ingrained ways of thinking, coming from many generations before them.
That T.R.A.P. attraction thing was a good example of the differences. It was mostly an attraction park for his generation, not really for children, as they were greatly able of doing these kinds of inner-travels without the aid of technology —not that they didn’t enjoy it either.

Al was thinking of a gift for Tina. He wanted to show her that she had really transformed Jadra, or that they had come a long way since the wandering in the cave tunnels, or that everything started to make sense, even the invisible friend Blohmul…
Well, there were still mysteries around him, (not mysteries really, but things yet at the state of seeds, or potentials) but he was no longer a hair on the soup they cooked. He was the blue fox of Mævel, and more interestingly, that cursed god was the son of Mirÿnda, the Goddess of Mirth —but that, Tina had not realized yet…

Actually, now that he was looking at the entry, Al noticed that Jadra was last seen with Mirÿnda, and that struck him as something more than a coincidence…

Edits and linking to comments

Yes, old edits are not highlighted in the system… If that’s a significant one, you might just want to post a comment somewhere to inform the others.
You can directly point to a comment, using the ID of the comment
Like in the last comment, when you talk about the 29th comment, once you’ve clicked on # 29 and “copy as textile”, that would give that: Malvina’s Dragon Rookery # 29 …

October 21 ^st

What’s the use of a new-born baby?

An interesting reflection is prompted by Armelle about the need to understand things for some of our focuses.

« I can do whatever I like with your Stories, give them any Meaning I want. It doesn’t matter… » (Armelle)
« Of course! that is the Magic of it » (Rafaela)
« And we can see them as Seeds. You don’t need to understand how Seeds work to have them grow » (Yuki)
« Yes, in a wild Wilderness. A weedy, overgrown, yet mysteriously lovely Wilderness » (Armelle)
« A modicum of Cooperation but largely total Freedom to make what you Want » (Rafaela)
« It’s a repository of Energy Seeds » (Yuki)
« A weedy, overgrown, yet mysteriously lovely Wilderness » (Armelle)
« Yes, that too! Or,… an Eden Garden, with a hovering scaly stinky beast . May it be either an English, Chinese or French Garden, whatever pleases your tastes… » (Yuki)