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  • #413
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Dory was browsing in the airport shop, waiting for her flight back to Spain. She picked up a copy of Reportilda, the travel magazine, to read on the plane. A couple of the articles highlighted on the cover caught her eye:

      Dragonfly Swarms Across The Straits…extinct species emerges from Sahara desert and swarms to rural Andalucian mountains….

      Travels With Lemur…..hilarious excerpts from Marco the Pole’s diaries…..

      Andwenden: The Forgotten Ones…….psychic archeologists discover ancient pyramid building culture…..

      Tuareg Update…….the future looks sunny for ancient nomadic culture as US pulls out….

      #398

      George, it’s been such a pleasure to meet you, Dory said sincerely, But I think it’s time for me to go home now. My step-daughter Becky will be expecting me, and boy do I ever miss Dan.

      George laughed pleasantly and said, But of course, I understand! Just be remembering, he added with a twinkle, That I am always available. And I have the ‘whole book’ in my carpet bag.

      Haha! Dory laughed a trifle rudely. The forgetting chapter… why, she had already forgotten about that! Her mind was already on other things… Dan for instance……

      #387
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        Of course, as soon as they had stepped into the powerful magnetic field generated inside the T.R.A.P., the reality around them was transphormed as if they all had been into a huge deFørmiñG mirror, that they could shape with their strangest thoughts.

        Obviously, they had all started to hallucinate some funny stuff…

        It was happening so quick, Sam noticed. Sean’s breath was smelling of whiskey, and Sam felt Sean had forgotten something on his way to New York. He felt compelled to ask him if there was something on his mind…
        — Peregrine!
        — Who’s that?
        — Oh, he will be so disappointed… Sean started to sob. I’m such a bad father!

        Sean couldn’t find a composure. Hopefully, Becky wrapped her sensual arm around his shoulders, and hugged him tenderly.

        — Hey, look, she said, the children are more adept at these games than we are,… if we want, we can have him project here from his bedroom and share the fun with us. What do you reckon?

        And she started to yell:

        — Peeeeerrrry ! Peerrrry !

        #323

        — The legend of Mævel — (Part II)

        The young fairy princess, whose secret name had been forgotten, and thus her very existence to whoever had known her, grew up as a beautiful child.
        Mævel she was, and the youngest of the clan too. Her delicate features stood out of the many children that Jorg and Ilga, her human parents already had, and they first saw her as probably their most useless child, being frail and unfit to the works of the woods. But she’d been saved from a sure death, and that had proved to them that the child was some odd gift from the Gods.

        Mævel looking at her brothers and sisters, was constantly reminded of how different she was, as small and fair and fragile as a sparfly’s egg. She helped her mother Ilga as much as she could in the kitchen, preparing meals for the clan. Her parents did not know how she could ever get a husband, as she would never be much of a great cook either.
        So, she was feeling not fulfilled by what she was doing. She loved her parents, and sisters, and brothers, but there was something else that she did not know how to express.
        During the springing and sunny seasons, and even the rainy and icy one, she would go after her works had been done to the little meadow brook, and watch for hours the little rosy trouts dancing in the clear waters.

        And much of her young years passed, and she learned how to cook, how to sew and how to wash clothes and many other tasks that could help the family. She had improved much in her skills and could do wonderful adornments to her sisters and brothers clothes. But noone cared about the adornments, which would be useless for them. But they loved their little sister nonetheless, though they did not understand.
        Soon, all the elder brothers left the house, one by one, and the sisters too. And as Mævel turned twenty one, she was left alone with old Jorg and old Ilga.

        That day, her parents had offered her a pearl white ribbon, for her to tie her hair, and they had thought it would probably please her, as it was as useless a thing as their mind could imagine. And indeed she was delighted by the gift, and to please her parents, she had danced and sung in the night, barefooted on the floorboard, her shiny golden hair swirling around her, as they both loved her to do.

        The next day, Mævel went to the brook to wash some clothes, when she noticed a reddish bluish spark of light coming from the forest nearby. How strange she thought. Perhaps it is only my imagination. But soon, a plaintiff cry came from the same direction, and she was deeply moved by the cry.
        Leaving her clothes to dry up, she went to the forest, knowing she could trust her instincts and that no wild beast would harm her. Calling to see if someone was there, a voice called her, crying “here, here!”

        Behind some fern trees, she was surprised as she saw a wounded blue fox. Was it the fox that had spoken?
        — Yes, that was me, answered the blue fox
        — Oh, a talking fox! You are wounded, aren’t you? asked Mævel
        — Yes, a stupid arrow from a stupid hunter… I can’t extract it, would you help me?
        — Of course, answered Mævel, hold on a second.

        And she leaned forward to draw the arrow from the fox’s leg, holding fast so that it would not hurt the creature. She was just knowing what to do, as if she had done it many times already. Then she drew out her white handkerchief, and bandaged the bleeding wound, tying it tightly with her pearl white ribbon.

        — I must leave now, said the fox, I am greatly indebted to you, young lady
        — Will you tell me your name?
        — I am called Blohmrik. And may I inquire as to your name?
        — I’m called Mævel, but you can call me Mæ
        — Such a lovely name…
        — How come you are a talking fox?
        — I was not always in the form that you see now. This form is due to a curse from the God of the Forgotten, from which I foolishly tried to stole secrets when I was a young god learning magic.
        Ooh, so you are a god? Mævel was amazed
        — Oh, smiled sadly the fox, as you are also, though you probably don’t realize. Gods are not so different than what you think…
        — Oh, really? So there isn’t anything I can do for you, is there?
        — You have already done much for today Mæ
        Mævel was blushing… She dared ask to her new friend
        — And will I see you again?
        — Perhaps sooner than you know.

        #304

        Írtak was playing with the dragon twins in the carved woodstones field. It was mostly faced shaped petrified wood that had been carved surely when it was still wood. The faces were quite hypnotic and made him feel often sleepy, but with the dragons he was feeling all his senses enhanced and sharpened. :face-glasses:

        The dragons were growing fast, hatched only a few days ago, they were already bigger than his father… He knew from Malvina that they could take whatever form they wanted, but he’d always thought that their power were developing from nothing to … something… but apparently they were already fully aware. Their leather skin was glowing emerald green, blended with some purple pink shades, or was it the contrary. It was changing so quickly. He was wondering what they were eating, because he wasn’t the one who was giving them any food. And still they were so big.
        Did they have a “real” form? Whatever that meant.

        One of the dragon gave him a mischievous glance and before he could anticipate what would happen, he was facing a growling troll :yahoo_time_out:. The troll was running right to him, seemingly crushing with his heavy body all the fragile woodstoned faces.

        All his attention was on the troll and he didn’t hear the man coming.
        And now the troll was freezed running and jumping forever… Írtak’s head was like a big storm of boulders falling from the sky. Growling, drumbling apart…

        — You have strange games with your dragons.
        — …

        He was gaping at the man… his skin was bluish with pink also and sometimes a bit of yellow.

        — Who are you?
        — Don’t you recognize me? :face-grin:

        Írtak tried to remember something. had he ever met that man before?

        — Oh right, it’s our first meeting… from your point of view. I’d forgotten that. But you see, for me our first meeting is in your future.
        — …

        Írtak was still gaping at the man, this strange skin of him, it was so ambrulin, that color he’d already see somewhere… was it in a dream?
        The man looked at him, and he felt for a moment a warm fuzzy feeling in his body… not particularly located in any part of it… and he would have… no, it was even in the woodstoned faces around him… how could he feel that?

        — Your dragons are wanting to take part in the fun, the man smiled. I’m going to let them go, as I’m not staying either.
        — Who are you? managed Írtak.

        :yahoo_alien:

        — I’m your father…
        :yahoo_alien:
        HAHAHAHAHAH! No actually that’s a private joke… I’m Andrimiñ (AndruhMiiñ?) we’ll meet again in a few years of your time. Your dragons are really interesting then, and so are you.

        Saying that, the time began to flow again in the right direction, the troll was still running toward him, but he suddenly slowed down and stopped, shape shifting into a bluish boy, with a face so similar to Andrimiñ.

        — Where’s the funny man? he said.

        #298

        The City, year 2257

        Janice had just awoken from a strange dream, where she was watching big round cabbages being harvested in what looked like Quintin’s father garden. They were all firmly rooted on a black irrigation pole across the garden, and people were using strange devices to turn them all delicately and pick them afterwards. In the dream, there were black puppies too, sleeping in the straw of a kind of hut nearby. And she had seen another creature, and had been surprised first because it was unlike anything she had ever met, even in dreams. It was hairless and brown as soft mud, and was hiding in the neighbour’s garden. Then it had crossed and came to play with her…

        Janice was lost in her thoughts strolling on the way to the common dome, when she met Rodney, her father’s friend.
        They had been recently trying with her father Jacob, and also Qixi to connect with their shifting focuses of the Ancients, two centuries and half before their time.
        Some of them, they had found, had been playing a sort of game of story-telling and clue-sowing… (Janice was laughing as her father’s friend, the scientist Arkandin, always insisted on seesawing instead)

        Perhaps her dream was telling her that the crop was ripe, and it was time to harvest some from it. She told her dream to Rodney. All at once, he was quite excited and they started to feel they wanted to chat more freely. So they went into one of the Medraw Caps that was available and soon imagined a comfortable environment for themselves to explore more.

        Janice could hear Al or Quintin complain about how things were getting confusing.
        She tried to convey to both of them that they could be excited about it, as it was expanding their understanding, but they weren’t very receptive.

        ~~~

        Somewhere Al was saying to Becky
        — The more you try to fix it, the more confused I am
        — Hahahahah yes! Becky was answering, I guess so! Ahahahah! Al, what a fabulous dance of confusion we do… The Confundo Tango
        — Ahahah, yes!

        Al started again to moan:
        — So who’s dead, who’s the shapeshifter? Who’s the human, who’s the cat? :-??

        (Rodney was laughing, as for him, he could accept the confusion as much easier, letting him free to wander around!)

        Illi was a woman, a shapeshifter who shape-shifted into a cat, then, she died. Becky was saying (Rodney added mentally “Now, she is disengaged” as he knew that “death” was a confusing word.) She was an archaeologist
        — Okay, that’s cool, that’s what I thought, Al acquiesced. Then thought back of what was said of her and wondered… Anyway, it will probably find a perfect answer …
        Becky nodded
        — I got lost myself when two Illis appeared, and a grip-thing as well
        — Because I didn’t want the grip-thing to be dead! Al couldn’t help but laugh. That would have been too easy, like wiggling out. Not using your imagination within the context of objective imagery to sort out “things”…

        ~~~

        While Rodney and Janice were seeing that their other focuses were kind of stuck in their explanation, they had time freeze and both decided to come back to their “now” to start from their understanding.
        A funny thought had come to Janice, that she shared with Rodney.
        — Oh, the funny thing you know, about Becky having written to Sean
        Rodney nodded. Janice continued:
        — It just appeared in my mind just moments ago, at the same time you (well, Rafaela) inserted into the story of Malvina. That Becky would have been asking Sean something, and that perhaps it would have helped him talk to his father in the future.

        — Well, that Sean is SUCH AN ENIGMA! bumped Rodney a bit excited by the implications.
        — What do you mean? asked Janice, who just remembered that Sean Doran has a cousin named Dorean.
        — Who is he? Where is he? was asking Rodney now.
        Rodney was having a hard time remembering what had been inserted yet in the story about him.

        So Janice manifested the Wrick family tree in front of them, so that he could see better. She started by manifesting an acorn, then threw in on the grass, and it sprung forth in a little sapling with signs hanging from its branches.

        — Well, it’s all in the script, answered Janice, he’s Lord Wrick’s son.
        — Oh boy, I am in trouble again for not keeping up with the facts! Rodney sighed, and laughed…
        Janice laughed “So that you can surprise yourself again!”

        Rodney felt thankful for the sumafiness of Janice who was always prompt to display helpful hallucinations and reminders.

        Janice stopped the growth of the family tree for a moment and started to comment it.
        — See, in Becky’s time of the reality play, Sean is Lord’s Wrick son, and has just lost his wife Margaret, and got his two young children around their 10s.
        — When is Becky’s time then? Rodney wondered, I hadn’t though of that…
        Becky’s time for the reality play is around 2033…
        Then Janice had the tree grow again, and sprout more branches from Sean’s children:
        — …Now, Sean is the grand-father of the twins, except than the twin’s time is around 2057 if it had not changed yet. It’s so carefully woven, but it’s fun how it effortlessly came to fit in.
        TRUST AND ALLOWING AND GOING WITH THE FLOW cried Rodney and Janice in unison, in the realisation of how well all this was.

        Rodney was beginning to remember it all.
        — I just remember the part about Sean, so he is still a bit of a mystery
        — Yes, absolutely
        — We don’t really know do we why Hilarion didn’t mention him
        — Oh, there’s also the Margaret newspaper thing… Janice fumbled in her memory to find the proper link that would display the image of the newspaper cut just at the right of the family tree. Adding with a wink “with more dates to get bearings”
        — Ahahah, I’d love to have pocketfuls of ball bearings said Rodney who manifested a pocketful to distract him from the load of information. OH YES! he cried, I had forgetten about this! What an incredibly HUGE story this is…

        Rodney was squinting his dream eyes
        — So, Sean was into humanitarian effort after 2001…
        — His father actually I think, said Janice. He was a bit too young.
        — Oh OK, I misread, that’s hard to read!

        Then, all of a second, Rodney erupted in an uproarious laugh
        AHAHAHA, I had just forgotten to de-hallucinate these pince-nez spectacles! Now, it is much easier to read!
        Janice was laughing so hard, she thought she would shatter the hallucination with the wobbles of the soundless sounds.
        Then she added:

        Sean is born around 2000, a bit before.
        — OK, maybe he went to help the Tuaregs, Rodney was accessing some information now. Maybe he was the one who put the mummy in the locked room that India found.
        — You know I had something funny in store for the mummy mystery, Janice couldn’t help but laugh again. I imagined we could have inserted Old Manon, coming down to secretly drink from her old malt whiskey’s flask, and finding them messing up with her old dear stuffed cat…
        — Maybe the mummy was the same one that Dory saw in the oblong hole in the ground outside the cave, Rodney was still accessing flickering images swirling around his head. And Sean was there helping the Tuaregs and moved it to safety.
        Of course, years previously, Illi Fergusson, the archeologist had buried the mummy there too for safe keeping.

        Now, Janice was hooked:
        — Was it where Illi learned about shapeshifting tricks from the old tribe?
        Rodney noticed Janice’s funny remark and laughed before continuing:
        — The Tuaregs were conducting secret coleslaw experiments in the desert. In combination with sound and irrigation techniques, they were going to run the entire Sahara into a broccoli field.

        Janice was amazed at the cabbage “coincidence” and irrigation stuff with her dream of that morning. Of course she knew there where probably mis-interpretation of the imagery coming from Rodney’s visions, but something made sense.
        — Around which year? she asked
        — Arrggh I don’t know!… Then, taking a breath of dream air, Rodney said “1923”. When Illi learned shape-shifting trick, 1923.
        — It makes sense, said Janice who was now thinking of other dispersed informations about Illi Fergusson.
        — Yes, she learned from Dashine Ashara… Although who that is, I don’t yet know.
        — Wow, said Janice. She had felt a connection with the “da’sheen” sound. She continued: somewhere, Illi Fergusson has said: “my parents were aristocrats”
        — Yes, answered Rodney who was accessing again, they were, and they knew the Wildes .
        — And it was said too: “[…] a nurturing presence that reminded Illi of the maid she and her parents had in their cottage in South Africa”… like her parents were traveling a lot.
        — Ah, South Africa! Illi’s parents emigrated to South Africa with Sir Abingdon Portfellow, an elderly scholar on ancient artifacts and embalming.
        — Seems she knew John Lubbock too, said Janice again, reviving old data banks of information. Dates seem okay, so if she was around 30 in the Tuareg adventure, she could have met him.
        — Wow, said Rodney, this is even more interesting…

        “But we may sit at home and yet be in all quarters of the earth.” Janice had just summoned the voice of the naturalist and archaeologist. Rodney applauded “Lubbock said that? cool quote!”.
        — Yes, like Illi’s quote, which was from him “What we see depends mainly on what we look for”. I wonder if that’s one of your (Illi’s) overlapping focuses, said Janice

        — Well, Illi didnt stay long in South Africa with boring old whatever his name was, Rodney pursued
        — Yes, she was young with her parents. They were traveling…

        They were both amazed at the magical cooperation they were doing at that moment. Janice would have loved to share all of that with Qixi and Jacob, but probably their energies were present at the moment too, though not focused here.

        She then remembered something else:
        — Oh, and there is something else! Quintin’s dream of the woman detective. Let me fetch it she said, summoning now Quintin’s memory to talk to them.
        … by night, near a museum in London, in the 1920s. She was investigating a case of a strange disappearance near a small replicate of an Egyptian pyramid that had been put here for display. There had been an exposition of ancient artifacts in the museum, which had been recently unearthed by a team of archaeologists and graciously lent by Egypt’s officials. Strangely enough, the woman detective feels linked to the story, and is probably Dory
        Date fits again, she said in awe.
        — Perfect! said Rodney. She was of course Dory too, but in that focus she was Illi Fergusson… he slowed down, then said No! wait! The detective was another one of my focuses. The archeologist who stole the mummy for safekeeping was Illi.
        — Hmmm
        — Hmmm
        — So you are both the thief and the detective, the one who creates mystery for yourself, how interesting, giggled Janice.
        — Yes, and not only that Janice! Rodney was taking a mysterious air… I am the mummy too!

        Janice bust out laughing imagining Rodney in bandages. Yes, of course!
        Then, she had a name come with that: Apsh’un Shet she said, very self-absorbed.
        Now, that was Rodney’s turn to burst out laughing.
        — “I am not sure about that!”
        — Doubting my insights… mmm, how rude… Janice frowned then laughed again.
        — If you call me that, I may have to make you out to have a speech impediment
        — Sounds a good Egyptian name for me though, seems it means “Light of the Dawn
        — Does it? Oh that sounds nice…
        — Well, in some Egyptian dialect, yes. She was a Princess…
        — Hahaha! Reminds me of Aspen Shit. Rodney doubted Janice could be serious about that name, but Janice was now the one to be accessing some information.
        — Bit bossy Princess
        — Which dynasty?
        III rd, answered Janice, who fumbled in links of consciousness to find some timeline to project for them.
        — What year?
        Janice projected the timeline below then said
        — I’d say around 2657 B.C., in Ancients way of telling time.

        They both marveled at the splendid team work they had been doing, and hoped that the other focuses involved would be able to get some parts of their insights too.

        Rodney was seeing something else
        — There is also, a very fascinating link between Tassili in the Sahara and Egypt which is a mystery AND there is a connection with Egypt and Scotland too…
        Illi the gripshawk comes from the mysterious land of the Sands, south of the map fragment
        — We may unravel more than we think… Illi is an other dimensional focus of the Illi essence…
        — Yes she is. She is a connection too, being “lost” in the land of dragons after hopping through traveling portals…
        — Exactly
        — And they communicated because they are helping each other
        — Which is why she doesn’t always ‘fit’ into this reality’s energy configuration
        — And they have some difficulties at times with translations of other dimensional stuff
        — Yes! resulting in confusion!

        And they both laughed again, looking at the great tapestry of clues that was woven before their dream eyes.

        #287
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          India Louise and Eugenia momentarily forgot about the gold locket and walked over to the exceptionally long trunk. India dropped the locket into her pocket as she investigated the exterior of the trunk, which didn’t appear to have an opening. It seemed to have been made around whatever it housed, and permanently.

          ‘How strange’, mused India, ‘it must not be intended to open, ever!’

          ‘That makes me want to open it’, said Eugenia. ‘Let’s! Let’s open it!’

          Eugenia was rummaging in the desk drawers for a suitable tool.

          ‘Wow, look at this, Indy’. She held a heavy black letter opener up to show India, with an elaborate carved dragon on the handle. The dragon had glittering amethyst eyes, and a serpentine line of coloured stones along its back.

          India shivered involuntarily at the sight of the dragon. Horrid nasty creatures, dragons, she muttered, resisting an urge to cross herself. ‘Peace be with you, now bugger off’ she whispered the spell under her breath so Eugenia wouldn’t hear her and think she was a silly goose. Horrid scaley slimy stinky reptiles.

          ‘You go first, Genie, try and prise the trunk open.’ India didn’t want to touch the letter opener, but she was rather curious about the contents of the trunk.

          Eugenia was a strong and capable lass, with a practical methodical mind ~ unlike India Louise ~ and before long the first piece of wood came splintering off.

          ‘Nice one, Genie, well done.’ India said as Eugenia wrenched off another few planks.

          ‘Oh MY GOD!’ ‘Jumping Jehosophat!’ ‘What the……’ ‘Holy Moly, Genie, what the….’. After a few initial exclamations, the girls were silent, the hair standing up on their arms.

          They were looking down at the shrivelled features of a dried up body, covered in bits of disintegrating faded fabric.

          ‘A mummy! It’s a friggen mummy!’

          #282

          — The legend of Mævel — (Part I)

          as told by Cpt Bone to young Tomkin

          In the time of the Gods, the King of the Fairies, Aldurion, fell in love with a beautiful mortal named Theÿa.
          He wanted to make her his Queen but only the Elder Gods could bestow the gift of immortality upon mortals.
          So he went to see Ghört, the God of the Airs. Ghört could certainly grant him what he requested, but for that, Theÿa would have to be transformed into an air sprite. Aldurion wouldn’t be able to hold her again. So he declined the offer, and went to see another Elder God.
          Then, he went to see Nærvel, the Goddess of the Waters. But Nærvel could grant him immortality if Theÿa was to be transformed into a water sprite. So Aldurion declined again.
          Then he went to see Agnima, the Goddess of the Flames, and then Selvaniel the God of the Woods, and Margilonia the Goddess of the Earths. But all of their conditions were the same, Theÿa would have to be transformed into an immaterial and immortal elemental fairy. But Aldurion couldn’t bear to have her changed into something else than she was.

          Then, only one of the Elder Gods was left, the one than few of the Immortals dared talk to, and of whom most mortals were afraid, to the point of systematically using the Old Speech respectful form of address (“Shaint”), when referring to him.
          So Aldurion came to see Lejüs, God of the Forgotten.
          Lejüs was greatly pleased to see him. When Aldurion had finished exposing his request, Lejüs took a moment to ponder. Giving immortality was none of his wonts, as he was keeper of the Forgotten. But he was not without compassion, and seeing Aldurion’s plight, he offered to grant his wish at the condition that, not his wife, but their first born child, would become Forgotten.
          Aldurion was so hopeful that all he saw was that the condition seemed so small, based on a future event that perhaps wouldn’t even happen… All he wanted was to have Theÿa as a Queen, and so the deal was made.

          So became Theÿa Queen of the Fairies.

          A few God’s Years later, which meant in human years much more than a few years, Theÿa became pregnant.
          When she announced the news to Aldurion, he was suddenly reminded of the deal he had made with Lejüs, and was quite distraught, as he had not revealed it to Theÿa. But he remained quiet, hoping that Lejüs would have forgotten about the whole story (well, that was forgetting he was Keeper of the Forgotten).
          So Theÿa gave birth to a little baby girl fairy, with golden wavy hair and bright eyes. She, like her mother, had no wings, but there was magic in her. They named her Araoni.

          But Lejüs had not forgotten of course, and came to see the Royal couple to claim the baby. Aldurion pretended that the mother and baby was still very weak, and he would have to come back in a few God’s Days. Lejüs agreed, and left complaisantly.

          Aldurion was at a loss for solutions, but Theÿa was a fairy with lots of ruse, so he decided to reveal it all to her, hoping that she would have a solution.
          Theÿa asked him time to think about this, and told him not to worry.
          Later, she had an idea, quite brilliant she thought. All she had to do was to find another child to give Lejüs.
          So she gave baby Araoni to one of her diligent nurse, the old fairy Gretchÿa, telling her to find a house were a blond new born girl could be exchanged and proceed to the exchange of the babies.

          So Gretchÿa went across the lands of the Worlds, but only in one home she could find a blond baby girl. The new-born baby girl was almost dying, as the parents were a careless couple of peasants, already plagued with many children, and they could not bother with children hesitating to live.
          Gretchÿa was heart-broken when she did the exchange, promising to baby Araoni to get her back soon. The young human baby girl was weak and yet unnamed, and the old fairy nurse knew she would probably not live long, and be claimed by Shaint Lejüs. So all was good.

          When Lejüs came back, he smiled as he saw the baby girl, and left with her without much more words for the Royal couple.
          Lejüs smiled, for when he had taken the young baby, the parents had instantly forgotten about her, and so did everyone having ever known her…

          The human parents, surprised to see the condition of their baby improving beyond all hope, named her Mævel, which meant marvel of Maÿ the month in which she was born.

          #247

          “What are you doing?” said the little girl.

          Getting no answer she asked it again.

          “What are you doing?”

          She approached the strange being that was so engrossed in its activity, or maybe it couldn’t hear her, she thought dreamily. She put her hand through the big (what color was that) beast.

          She thought about that a little and tried to seize one of those big berries.

          That worked, she could at least grasp one of those, not two, her hands were too small, but one was as big as that ball her father was so fond of playing with… she couldn’t remember what he called it. Well it mattered not, she could grasp one of them :D

          It was a bit warmer than she would have thought. A bit mushy, and very soft. She had a very pleasant sensation caressing it, it was electric and watery and she laughed.

          The beast stopped what it was doing. Did it hear her laugh? It began eating the berries again.

          She stroked the berry and felt the funny laugh emerge from her chest. When it burst out the beast stopped again.

          “Oh you can hear me laugh!” She said, unaware of her hand gently rubbing the surface of the berry.

          “Grumpf!” did the beast.

          Its eyes were beginning to change, from yellow to a kind of blue with some tiny stars in them. The girl giggled and was suddenly face to face with a little boy.

          “What are you doing here” said the boy.

          “These are my berries, you can’t eat them.”

          She was a bit startled by his first words and she already had forgotten the weird beast.

          “I just wanted to play, they are so soft and they make me laugh.”

          She couldn’t help another giggle.

          The boy still seemed wary of her and began to move.

          #232

          A few days after Sam and Becky’s conversation on the phone, they were having a rehearsal.

          Just at the moment when they felt stuck again, despite Sam’s moves, Al and Tina, a couple of friends came crashing into the small theater room, and were greeted by an icy cold silence. “Icy” is an exaggeration of course, said Tina, “it just meant I had to put a jacket on again today”.

          Sorry for being late! said Al a bit uneasy.
          — Oh you and your uneasiness! said Tina. And I’m sure we’re arriving at the perfect time.
          — Oh, well, I’m not sure of anything today, said Becky. I’m sick of being force-fed coleslaw, and rigging down holes for myself.

          A silence was on the scene.

          :fleuron:

          At the same time, somewhere on the deck of his ship, Bådul was remembered of the landscapes of his land. He had not really appreciated them before, but now, he was finding them dear to him. They were for the most part a mixture of sandy dunes, from which at times peaks of icy rocky mountains would stick out. Lately he had felt like one of these peaks sticking out of the sands. The sands were shifting.

          :fleuron:

          Somewhere in Malvina’s cave.

          Malvina had been polishing the last dry eggs that she had found and that would not hatch. One of them had some interesting perfect round shape, and a very transparent shell, and it gave her an idea.

          She asked Leörmn to come.

          :fleuron:

          Quintin’s bedroom.

          [1:01] The clock was saying. Quintin had just awoken from a dream about an elderly woman who was showing him some drawings. These were not actually drawings, but in fact, they were called by the lady “glassart”. It was made, she said, of coloured sands, and would be vitrified by some flame. Quintin in that dream had thought the designs rather crude, but had found the idea interesting, and with great potential.

          :fleuron:

          Leörmn came almost instantly, appearing in a puff of teal smoke.

          Oh, I see… he said, reading Malvina’s mind. And I think I have the perfect sands to go with it.

          :fleuron:

          — Why hasn’t that pirate, Badass…
          Badul, corected Al
          — Whatever, Becky pursued imperturbably, that pirate Baddock used traveling portals to go and look for the eggs? Why the seas? Sounds a bit complicated and with lots of dangers too.
          — Good question, answered Al. Well, don’t want to answer for everyone, but in my perception…
          — Oh, get lost with your “in my perception” thing, that’s becoming tiring… sighed Tina
          — OK. So, for me, they have forgotten much about magic in his land.
          — Makes sense… added Sam dreamily… In fact, I’m not sure after all that Badul is only after gold. I think he has found some old desert dragon egg in a cave lost in his country and hopes to revive it, with the help of the people who still know about magic.
          — Which would explain the quest… said Al
          — Yeah, and he would have hidden that to the rest of the crew, probably… said Tina

          :fleuron:

          Leörmn had now finished assembling the magical artifact.

          — That’s one of our most beautiful magical artifact I’d say, Malvina gleamed
          — Oh yes it is. And how would you call it?
          — Let’s see…

          :fleuron:

          sabulmantium !

          Everyone cracked up at the word that Al had just blurted out. They had decided to have some distraction to alleviate the stress on the play, and they had a fun improvisation game, saying stupid things that went through their minds.

          — Hey! Don’t laugh like that, it’s something very serious actually, said Al tongue-in-cheek. Let me see…
          — Hahahaha, the others continued
          — Well, it’s a divination device, or a sort of compass in a way. I see it as a globe made of glass, with coloured sands in it, and when you focus on it, the sands take all sorts of three dimensional shapes, and become alive…
          — Wow! Tina couldn’t help but say.

          :fleuron:

          Leörmn, as Malvina had been telling him (or vice versa), had put the sabulmantium in one of the tunnels, to a place where he knew Arona would find it, and probably put it to good use for her future adventures.

          #206

          India Louise had been switching her own book with Cuthbert’s that night. And as she was exploring some of the stories told in his, he was having a peek into hers.

          Very quickly, he became aware of a whole new continent, in that World, across the Middle Seas. In that continent far North of the one where Malvina’s was living, lived some intrepid people. They were strong with big voices, and a bit quarrelsome too. Their ways had forgotten lots about Magix and they placed most of the value into tangible items.

          The next page, a man was sailing across the Middle Seas with a handful of trusted men. He was a captain pirate, named Båd Al’Guz, which meant, Båd son of Guz. His crew referred to him as Bådul.

          Cuthbert was intrigued by this man, and had begun to discuss with him mentally, asking who he was, who were his people. The same as Cuthbert had been very innocently doing with gentle Malvina.

          But Bådul was tricky, and after a bit of a surprise, very soon discovered that the little boy could be a very interesting informant, though an unusual one.

          And in fact, his information was much more interesting than that which the shamans of King Wulfrick babbled in the most inspired manner.

          Till now, from the mouths of the buck-pelts clothed shamans had only came stupid gibberish that the King and his court gobbled endlessly. Something about “YaWn”, as they said: You animate Worlds neatly .

          How stupid was that? Their only answers were useless to him, they were only telling him that he activated and animated the Worlds neatly, and that, in short, nothing was fixed and he could do anything.

          Well, with that boy, that was different. He was talking about a cave with gilded dragon eggs, and THAT was of a great value to Bådul.

          But of course, he would not frighten the young boy and pretended that his intentions were that of an explorer, trying to discover new shores and new continents, so as to become closer to understand from where he came, and hopefully make people aware of their closeness to each others.

          He was such an eloquent actor that he almost shed a tear saying that sentence.

          As a matter of fact, for as long as he remembered, he had been wandering in many situations, and lots of them had not been very pleasant. Born from uncaring parents, as lots, if not all, of his people were, working as a janitor in a sordid tavern, then as a warden (if not executioner when requested) in an even more sordid jail… Were the Gods to be blamed for that? Well, according to the shamans, he was the only one to be blamed, because he did not accept his responsibility as a weaver of Worlds.

          Idiots.

          At least, he had found his passion. He love sailing, and taking riches for his pleasure. Whatever then, he would take his share, and not care about what was next.

          At least, if he could coax the boy into revealing more about that cave.

          #146

          Arona was quiet for a long time. The thing was she was not thinking about the riddle.

          You know Dragon, she said eventually, I may not look very bright but I am not so stupid I can’t answer your foolish riddle. The truth is though that I don’t want to listen to the music if I am so unwelcome that I have to answer silly questions.

          I have been wandering for quite a long time now, since I left the village I was born. I heard the music and I had a feeling of home I had long since forgotten. I thought there may be friendly folk here who would be pleased to welcome me. And I would have been pleased to get to know you too.

          Anyway I bid you farewell and wish you all the best.

          and Arona turned to leave.

          The dragon was kind hearted really, and was sorry to see the girl go, and to see the tear which fell on her cheek.

          Wait! Leormn called to her if you are sure you know the answer I will take your word for it. After all it was rather an easy riddle, so you see I did want to welcome you really. Come inside, you will be welcome, for I see your heart is true

          #140
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Dory was floating. The warm waters of the lagoon rippled underneath her, relaxing and soothing. The sun was going down, and the sky was quilted with puffy pink clouds above her, the coconut trees black silhouettes against the blue-green horizon. Lazily, her gaze drifted towards the beach. The lemurs were dancing their magical dance amongst the trees. Balti chuckled behind her. Oh I forgot you were there Balti! He chuckled again. You wouldn’t relax, Dory, unless I promised to hold you, you thought you might drown. Dory had forgotten all about drowning.

            Let’s go to the dance, Balti, she said. The dance of the lemurs . We can float closer to the shore and then we may hear the music.

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