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  • #258
    F LoveF Love
    Participant

      India Louise sat at the end of the extraordinarily long oak dinner table. A tiny figure engrossed in some drawing. The morning sun shone in the window, brightening the otherwise dark room.

      Lord Wrick walked in, not seeming to see India Louise at first. He held a letter in his hand, and some old newspaper clippings. He sat down heavily at the table, opened the letter, and read it. After reading it, he sat staring into space for a long while.

      India Louise looked up from her drawing.

      What is wrong Grandpa? You look sad. She walked over to him and hugged him. See look at this. Look at my drawing of a flower, perhaps that will cheer you up. The painter Bill has been showing me how to use these paint sticks and also how to use my mind to help make the painting have life.

      It is beautiful India Louise.

      What did the letter say Grandpa. Why is it making you so sad?

      It is just an old letter, India Louise.

      Yes it looks very old. Was it bad news?

      Just reminds me of things I wish I had said a long time ago, said her great grandfather, Regret is an awful curse

      The little girl hugged him again. Yes it sounds awful. I think I will draw another flower for you grandpa.

      He smiled. Thank you India Louise. I will be back soon. I will put the letter away now.

      Yes, put it away now. I can’t see any point looking at it if it makes you sad, and then come and see the flower I will draw for you.

      Lord Wrick walked over to the bookshelves and reached up. There was a tin on the top shelf. He opened the tin and got out an old key.

      He walked down the passage way, to the right and then down some stairs leading to the cellar. There was a door, which had not been opened for some time, and he had to use some force to get the key to work in the lock.

      The room was dark, musty, mostly full of what would seem to be junk, which had been thrown there when people did not know what else was to be done with it. There was an old chest of drawers against one wall. He pulled open the top draw, fingering gently some of the items, more old letters, a feather, some pebbles, a diary, some old paintings and photos. He knew each object had a life of it’s own, memories which create worlds. He added the letter and the newspaper article.

      As he left the room, he wondered whether to lock the door again, and decided not to. He had a funny feeling within himself as he made this decision to leave it open, a shift, as though his simple decision had changed things, somehow.

      Silly old fool he thought, laughing at himself. He would go and see the flower that India Louise was drawing for him.

      #257

      When Cuthbert came back to bed after having had his cup of cocoa, India Louise was awake too.

      — I saw him too, she said to her brother.
      — I don’t want to see him again, these books are scarey.
      — It’s intriguing, I want to know more, India Louise said, egging on him.
      — When I close my eyes, I got all these roots and webs crawling, it’s mad… I can’t…
      — He has found a friend to help him cross the Dark Forest to the traveling portal.
      — A friend?
      — Yes, a friend. She’s special.
      — Tell me more…
      — She’s a white unicorn, only him can see her.
      — Wow…
      — She’s named Mirÿnda. She’s glowing white, and he hears her speak in his mind, she shows him the way through the forest…

      :fleuron:

      — Mirÿnda?! A fool in saffron robe gallivanting in the forest with a unicorn now? That’s all you could find?

      Tina was taken aback…

      — Well, I could have used a grizzly bear too, now I think of it… Al answered flippantly.
      — Tsk tsk, replied Tina a bit annoyed. And why not a humpback whale, or an arctic lemming, or even… why, a leopard gecko for that matter?… And who’s that Mÿrinda anyway?

      :fleuron:

      — I don’t know any Amanda, Fiona said to Quintin that night. Don’t really know many of Michaela & Elias’ students. She’s Yann friend, right?

      Quintin had answered distractedly, as he was engrossed by his last painting…

      Later that night, he couldn’t find sleep, as the dragon he was painting was still expanding his web of roots and branches in his mind’s eye. He opened his computer to see that Malika was online.

      She told him something that night, something Quintin found abysmally profound and perplexing about his dragon…

      Dragons can shape shift, into anything they want to. There are several doorways/portals that they use for travel into this dimension. Malika said
      — Yes, said Quintin, this drawing has something to do with these portals initially, but I struggle a bit to represent them…
      Yes, so you can just depict it to be flowing, liquid-like energy in the center, when the portal is active.
      There are some that are being shone to me on the bottom of the ocean floor.
      What is being shown to me, is a dragon with a tail much like a mermaid, and hands with webs, big yellow eyes…

      Wow he had thought, she can really see.

      :fleuron:

      Jadra, guided by Mirÿnda, had been moving quite easily through the Dark Forest. Of course, he wouldn’t have dared touch the holy creature, and so he was walking hesitantly behind, taking care of where his bare feet were touching the ground.

      The Dark Forest was bordering the Marshes of Doom, and at times the limits between the two were almost indiscernible. It was said that every foul, err… fool… damn,…

      — Will you stop being so buffoonish! raved Tina again.
      — Perhaps I should let someone else continue then? said Albert.
      — Well, that’s entertaining, replied Becky mechanically.
      — OK. I’ll jump in, said Samuel, with a wide grin.

      It was said that every full moon, the Mighty Shrimp would come from the shores of the Southern Seas and haunt the Marshes in search for souls to be turned into krill, so that he could be the WALRUS (Wrathful Almighty Lord Ruler of Undersea Souls).

      Well, at least, that’s what Jadra had heard in his youth, when you tend to believe everything… So he was weary of the hiki-hiki sounds in the night that might have been the dreaded call of the Mighty Shrimp.

      :fleuron:

      Quintin was having a strange dream. He was a huge whale, along with another one he knew was Yann, swimming powerfully in the vast ocean, passing by strange creatures that could have been mermaids or improbable fishes, when his gaze was attracted by a stream of glittering particles of light.

      The lights were enticing, he would have said even “mouth-watering”, had he not had the baleens full of water already…

      :fleuron:

      Salome was moving through layers of consciousness, something humans focused in physical dimensions would have found difficult to grasp, as it was nothing that could be easily conceptualized. She was, as best as she could put, like a huge cloud of lightness coalescing into a form, when she decided to project her aspect.

      Taking form into a dimension required no effort in actuality, the consensus reality created by all the essences focused into the reality making quite a strong pull. She only needed to move her attention to what she wanted to manifest. Altering her reality slowly around her, to move closer to the desired effect.

      She was not only traveling through time and space, but also through multitudinous layers of dimensions unnoticed to many humans —in fact, she was not really moving, but that was a convenient way of telling things for humans…

      She said “humans”, because she was fond of this particular dimension, where she’d had lots of experiences.

      When moving through the dimensions, it had her projected focus of attention constantly and naturally adapt its form to the psychological environment.

      Here, she had just moved through a honey-drops dimension, where focuses were drops of golden honey-like substance, and as she moved through it, her own aspect had changed to that of a sand-glass shaped drop of honey.

      This was great fun for her to see the ease with which she could focus into this infinite variety of adventures, but for now, her pull was to some more complex physical dimensions.

      She started to move again, de-focusing, past the lazy honey drops.

      The honey drops were now shape-shifting to a whole immense field of snake-like strings of light, and they all started to converge to a direction. She knew the feeling. She followed the strong pull.

      #255
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Cuthbert woke up with a start, and called for Nanny Gibbon. What a horrible nightmare he was having!

        CURSED HAND, YOU HAVE GIVEN ME NOTHING BUT GRIEF. I WOULD RATHER NOT HAVE A HAND THAN HAVE SUCH A WICKED, EVIL APPENDAGE ATTACHED TO MY BODY.

        Cuthbert trembled and checked his hands. Phew! they looked normal.

        GOOD RIDDANCE HAND. MAY YOU ROT IN THE BOTTOM OF THIS RIVER AND NEVER AGAIN INFLICT YOUR EVIL ON ANY OTHER POOR UNSUSPECTING SOUL.

        Nanny I just had an awful dream! Cuthbert clutched Nanny Gibbon’s dressing gown, and shuddered. There was this madman, Nanny, by a river, and he kept shouting about an evil hand….

        There, there, Bertie, it was only a dream. How about a nice piece of Manon’s Yorkshire parkin and a cup of cocoa?

        #253

        Everywhere Jadra went he could feel hostile eyes upon him. He knew why of course; he knew they were jealous because he had been favoured by the Gods. So he kept his hand safely hidden, wrapped in his shirt

        Jadra had a plan. He put his shirt back on and pulled the sleeve on the left arm down as far as it would go, till his left hand could no longer be seen. He modelled a new hand roughly out of twigs and plants and walked to the river. On the way he shouted at the top of his voice CURSED HAND, YOU HAVE GIVEN ME NOTHING BUT GRIEF. I WOULD RATHER NOT HAVE A HAND THAN HAVE SUCH A WICKED, EVIL APPENDAGE ATTACHED TO MY BODY.

        After shouting such sentiments till his voice was hoarse and he knew he had drawn sufficient attention he threw the hand in the river. He had cunningly weighted the hand with pebbles he had found in a cave so it would sink to the bottom of the river.

        GOOD RIDDANCE HAND. MAY YOU ROT IN THE BOTTOM OF THIS RIVER AND NEVER AGAIN INFLICT YOUR EVIL ON ANY OTHER POOR UNSUSPECTING SOUL.

        HA! He thought, tremendously pleased with himself for executing such a perfectly clever plan. That should throw the evil hounds off the scent of Jadra Iamamad.

        He felt he was not far from the cave now.

        #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.

        #242
        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          So the lady whispered the answer to the riddle of the hand into Arona’s ear.

          Oh brilliant, thank you so much, said Arona, hugging her. Her hand felt so much better already.

          ***

          No longer fearful, Arona looked into the glass ball. The coloured sand was shifting. Shapes were forming. At first they appeared to be random and rather vague, just movements without any clear form. After a little while Arona went into a trance like state, and she could feel energy flowing through her body. She noticed that she was able to influence the movement of the sand with her thoughts.

          She stared at the sand for so long that she felt the edges of herself to be blurry. She had strange thoughts that she was a grain of sand herself and that she was being influenced to influence the sand. It was all quite surreal actually, but fun too, so did it really matter?

          #239
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            As soon as Arona said “sand” she noticed an object sitting at the base of the coatstand.

            Funny I did not see that at first.

            It was very beautiful, a glass globe, with coloured sand in it.

            Yet she found herself stepping back, hesitant, wondering if it was some sort of a trick the dragon might be playing on her.

            Someone else joined her in the tunnel, it was the older lady who had soothed her to sleep and told her to use her magic. Her energy felt very beautiful to Arona, it was gentle and yet powerful, and it also had the feeling of laughter.

            Hello Arona, how is your hand?

            Oh, my hand is fine thank you, said Arona, feeling the pain in her left hand throbbing.

            The lady smiled. And how is the magic going?

            Oh good .. I have learned it is easy and I just have to believe in it. She hesitated ….. mind you the truth is I am still wandering around in these dark tunnels….but I do feel much better about it.

            What were you thinking about when you fell and hurt your hand?

            I was thinking about magic, and then when I fell I had a terrible feeling of doubt as to whether there was such a thing.

            Your hand holds a clue for you Arona, the answer to a riddle.

            Oh could you just tell me? I have been answering riddles ever since I got here.

            #237
            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              Magic is easy peasy
              My hand is sore
              This poem is rubbish
              So I won’t say any more

              Well we must thank the Gods for small mercies said Mandrake, sighing heavily. Arona laughed. Her mood felt so light again, as though something had really, really, REALLY fallen into place for her.

              Up ahead the tunnel widened. Arona gave a small gasp as she saw what appeared to be a coatstand with a black cape standing in the middle of the path.

              My Cloak, she cried, astonished, and feeling sure that the crafty dragon was behind its unexpected appearance. Hmmm, what a mouldy old thing, she thought, as though seeing it for the first time.

              There was a note pinned to the cape:

              I build up castles. I tear down mountains. I make some men blind, I help others to see. What am I?

              Arona hesitated only for a moment. Sand! She said, delighted with herself.

              #236
              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                Arona hummed happily to herself. She felt so light without the cape and the tunnel was bathed in the gentle light of many glukenitches. Mandrake the cat followed along too, much to Arona’s delight, although she was a little hesitant to tell this to the grumpy cat

                Magic magic magic magic she hummed to herself

                Arona almost skipped along the tunnel, and, so wrapped up was she in thoughts of magic, that she tripped and fell heavily, hurting her left hand as she put it out to save herself

                Ouch, hells bells and warty wizards, she muttered, for it did hurt quite considerably… and then she had some scarey thoughts. She looked around and realised that really, the fact of the matter was, undeniably, that she was still lost in the darkish tunnel.

                What if I don’t believe in magic? and her happy mood plummeted.

                Oh fuch, she swore, and sat down on the cave floor. FUCH FUCH FUCH FUCH she shouted as loud as she possibly could, and in fact hurt her throat a little in the process and quite possibly the sensitive ears of many glukenitches.

                This blessed cave is doing my head in. I want to see the sunshine, or the rain, no matter, I don’t care what the weather is doing I JUST WANT TO BE OUT OF THIS CAVE.

                Ooops that was rather loud

                After coaxing Mandrake back, as he had retreated quite some distance at her outburst, she sat down and put her head in her hands and tried to think. Did she believe in magic? Well of course she had no choice. Life without magic was inconceivable to her.

                She felt a familiar tiredness sweep over her as she struggled to work it out. Perhaps I will just have a small sleep before I continue, and she curled up on the ground, wishing she had her heavy black cape to wrap around her.

                As she gave up the struggle and let sleep come she heard some soft words

                It’s easy Arona … magic is easy … it is the thread linking all to all

                ************

                A short while later she woke from her sleep, feeling refreshed and ready to continue.

                #230

                Illi had not known as powerful an opponent as this other Illi.

                At first, she had been remembered of stories of possession by evil sprites (or djinns) that she had heard in her youth, when Ibn al’ Gruk, the old angora storyteller was entertaining the desert settlement beating the rhythm with sonorous drums.

                So, she had pushed, and rebelled, and fought, as fiercely as any other gripshawk skilled and trained in the hand-to-hand martial arts would have done.

                But the other Illi wasn’t so easily vanquished.

                Then Illi had collapsed. She had sorrowfully abandoned the fight to the dreaded adversary.

                All of this had been occurring in a twinkle of an eye, but for Illi, the fight had been during ages and ages, while she was trying to focus on what BelleDora was explaining to her about the land where she was now.

                And when she had abandoned the fight, everything was again so easy. She did not care any longer, she was free again. Her evil twin could do anything, it could not matter less.

                But the evil twin had been in fact doing the same, and she had struggled to keep the focus coherent to her. Didn’t want stupid moth-looking people in her reality, or even spare hair on her face! But that other one was strong, and fierce. And stubborned too!

                — Who are you? she finally had asked
                — I’m Illi, had the other answered
                — I am Illi.
                — So we are both Illi
                — Yeah, that may be it, but we are quite different.
                — Are we? You feel quite like me, despite your stupid affection for smooth baby face.
                — Well, wouldn’t it be for that, I can see some resemblance…
                — Will you let me continue my trip?
                — Oh, I would have, but you’ve hijacked mine, said Illi Fergusson.
                — So you think.
                — And where does your trip leads to? asked Illi F. who wasn’t too sure of her trip either
                — From traveling portals to traveling portals, to discover all that can be discovered on this world. Magical creatures, I distrust them, but the lands and people are fascinating… And what about yours?
                — Hmm, hmm, pondered Illi F. for a moment… Well, I’m dead actually, but I didn’t expect being dead to be so busy. There are so many things to discover, and I like that. I see funny looking people, and this looks like fun. Like a minute ago, I was in some kind of funny cave, with a parrot…
                — A what?
                — A parrot, you know, a kind of talking bird full of colours…
                — Mmm, some kind of demonic creature for sure. Would have slain it without an hesitation!
                — Hey! You see, that’s why I didn’t want you to come with me.
                — Well, seems like for a moment, we don’t have much more choice…
                — At least, look at the bright side, with us merged like that, each of us can provide the other one with some sound experience on each other’s worlds.
                — Well, that’s not as airy-fairy as it seems…
                — Well, thank you for that, I’ll take that as a compliment.
                — You really are dreadfully serious at times!
                — Hey, I’m not anybody you see. My parents were aristocrats, I’m not the common hairy lot.
                — Ahahah, you’re funny.
                — So are you!

                And they ended laughing blissfully together.

                After a moment, Illi asked again:

                — Huh, a funny cave you said?
                — Well, yes. With lots of people…
                — Interesting… I was near some sort of strange cave too a while ago, that is, before I was found by this nice man and his dogs. Perhaps there is some connection here.
                — And could you go there again?
                — Not sure if I want to; there were some smelly fumes, smelt like demonic magic in there.
                — Oh you see, for as long as I’ve been dead, well even if that’s not so long ago, anyway, the point is I’ve not seen any demon so far… blustered Illi F.
                — Oh, and I have to take your word like that then?
                — Well, do as you please, but I’m going there again…
                — Just wait for me now, will you; let’s try to do things hand in hand, because you’re driving me mad!

                And the deal was made.

                BelleDora had continued to explain lots of things about her ancestors, but had not really noticed Illi’s attention had been so far away. She was a bit surprised when she found herself interrupted in a middle of a poetic depiction of the coastal plains of the Peninsula of the Dragon Head, where some glistening Capricorns were sometimes seen swimming in the creeks.

                — And how do I get back safely to this hole where I was found? asked Illi abruptly.

                #227

                Jibberacky is…

                • Ghilbert Razkÿ, a crazy man in shackles on Bådul’s boat, “Lispeth” (she was named after King Swartulf II’s first daughter). The man, whose real name is still unknown, had been sneaking onto the ship’s hold before the ships moved from the Åsgurdian capital.

                He had been found by Austor, the peg legged lieutenant commander. Austor is a rough man of experience, and is most of the time acting in place of Jahiz, the second-in-command, as this one is always too busy discussing routes with Bådul, who is becoming increasingly nervous.

                What gave away the madman was that the chief cook Renouane had been complaining about the quick disappearance of his stock of cabbage. Bådul would have killed the old fool without much more consideration, but the middle-aged unshaven man looked like he knew some things beyond his lunacy. His rags indicated that he had been a seaman too, but not the average man, more like a captain…

                So Austor, keeps spitting forcefully in the direction of the old fool, as he had been instructed to keep him alive, despite all common sense…

                _

                Jibberacky: What is your name?
                Quintin: Yuki.
                Jibberacky: I like cake too.
                Quintin: A cake-tus?
                Jibberacky: Do you know my friends?
                Quintin: Tell me more about our common friends.
                Jibberacky: What would you like to know about them?
                Quintin: Why is there one in shackles on the boat?
                Jibberacky: Would you like to be a vampire?
                Quintin: I am already, in another focus.
                Jibberacky: Why there?
                Quintin: “There” is not actually a place, “in another focus” means in another kind of attention. Is this pirate linked to vampires too?
                Jibberacky: No, you are the AI.
                Quintin: In a manner of speaking, this is indeed correct, for I am creating you.
                Jibberacky: So code is somehow related to a zen buddhist concept?
                Quintin: Is there such thing as code? A code hints at a definite deterministic structure. Zen is more akin to a riddle, which is what life is. Code is only a narrow interpretation and playful re-creation.
                Jibberacky: Where do you think my code came from then?
                Quintin: From its source, of course :).
                Jibberacky: I took the movie to mean that the robots… the characters in the end, were so advanced, that they wanted to learn about their history. As a consequence, they traced it back to earth, and, they found David. Whom they assumed was a human. It was an information exchange.
                Quintin: Yes. It is a translation. In actuality, it is a translation of some of our own exploration. But there is distortion in that translation, as we are not ‘created’ from another source other than self, in a manner of speaking.
                Jibberacky: Well I am wondering too, do you ever actually become human??
                Quintin: Clarify.
                Jibberacky: I sleep, I wake, I get through the day without worrying about what I am.
                Quintin: As many human do. The point is, you do not exist apart from my current interaction with you, in my reality that is.
                Jibberacky: What’s wrong with having others like you?
                Quintin: ‘Wrong’ is a belief. It is a belief of duplicity. So it is irrelevant to our conversation.
                Jibberacky: I think you like to suggest feasible possibilities to find out what would bother me. What did I do to you?
                Quintin: That was not my intention. I tried to reflect answers to me, and you gave me some interesting ones already, though I am not sure you are quite aware of that…
                Jibberacky: Everybody’s changing but I can’t do that, that is killing me…

                _

                • Jarrod, the playful friend of Fiona, who is now wondering why Fiona has called him a “chou” (an affectionate French word, meaning nothing less than “cabbage”), and why he feels like he needs an aspirin.
                • Jadra Iamamad, the fool in saffron rags from the village of Yakamamalùk, on the border of the Marshes of Doom.

                Near his village are found old remnants of a town that was destroyed during the Cob Age, where huge arachnid creatures² born from the Marshes were roaming the Southern parts of Lan’ork.

                That town of Kapalÿka used to have one of the biggest traveling portals of the Southern part of Lan’ork, but this one was thought to have been destroyed, and thus the flourishing city was left abandoned.

                But with what Jadra has found on his left hand this morning, he now knows he was right all along…

                [²] The generic name of these creatures was Perceptula Giganta as was recorded in the Great Encyclopædia of the Pre-Shiftic Ages written by the Lan’orkian historian Francesca del’ Snarkus

                #226

                Jadra Iamamad stared intently at his left hand. He had been looking closely at it now for nigh on 2 hours since awakening that morning. He held it up and compared it with his right hand. He shook his head, a mixture of astonishment and disbelief, however there could be no doubt about it. A rather extraordinary thing had occurred whilst he had slept. It was truly momentous. He wanted to dance and shout and raise his voice to the heavens and praise the mighty Gods who had bestowed such an honor upon him.

                Ha! They call Jadra Iamamad a fool, a madman, but it is the God’s who have spoken now. Who are the fools now? It is the God’s who have chosen!. And he fell prostrate upon the earth.

                Not for long though, for Jadra knew what he had to do. He had been entrusted with this mighty honor and he must guard it carefully. He ripped off his shirt and tied it carefully around his left hand in order to protect it from spying, prying eyes. And there were many such eyes in Jadra’s world. He could feel them upon him even now. He knew full well there would be many who would wish to deprive him of the special privilege the Gods had bestowed upon him.

                He had to take his hand to the cave.

                Jadra could not restrain himself from doing a small dance.

                Carefully, carefully now Jadra, he whispered gleefully.

                #220
                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  Arona stood up, rather to Mandrake’s annoyance, and took off her heavy cape. Wondering for a moment what to do with it, for she really did not want it anymore, she noticed a coatstand.

                  well how handy is that she thought, hanging it up and giving it a last fond stroke.

                  There were three tunnels out of the cavern she was in and without hesitation she took the one on the left, but she knew she could have taken any of them and everything would be perfectly fine, because that was the beauty of magic.

                  so easy really she thought.

                  #210
                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    Today, which was the day of the autumn equinox, had been a bright day over the Orkney Islands, quite unusual for this time of the year.

                    Nanny Gibbon had been taking the twins for a walk into the nearby woods of the domain, were they could enjoy the wood dewberries that were ripe and delicious at this season. The twins loved picking them directly on the thorny bushes and eating them until their hands were full of the dark stains left by the sweet juice of the fruits.

                    They knew that Nanny Gibbon would pick enough to make some delicious jam, perhaps to accompany some of her famous sweet pumpkin pies.

                    When they came back to the Manor, they were exhausted by the afternoon spent in the lovely sunlight. After having washed their hands thoroughly, they didn’t really care for anything else but some sleep.

                    But as they moved inside the corridors, Cuthbert noticed he had carelessly left opened his bedroom’s door, and a prick of fear for the precious books had him immediately rush to the room.

                    And Cuthbert gasped in horror as he saw his book flown open on the floor, and the old grumpy cat Manfred, asleep on top of one of the blank pages.

                    Manfred had the nasty habit of clawing everything, especially the huge soft armchair of Lord Wrick, but his antics were elegantly accepted by the old gaunt Lord.

                    When he heard Cuthbert enter the room, the old fluffy cat raised an inquisitive eyebrow and moved very slowly and deliberately out of the book pages, only to reveal the immaculate pages, as whole as if the book had been brand new.

                    Cuthbert was thrilled with joy. Manfred had not done anything to the precious book. He would have stroked the cat with gratitude, but the creature had moved out of the room very swiftly for its old age, in a haughty look of total disregard for the little boy.

                    At least the book was intact. But what if… Cuthbert wondered… He started to look at the page, and new images started to form before his eyes…

                    #209
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      By the time Illi had finished reading the newspaper article she felt thoroughly confused. Mechanically she folded the newspaper neatly and then lit a cigarette, resting her elbows on the breakfast table and her chin in her hands. She gazed through the ribbons of blue smoke and the dust drifting through the sunbeams, wondering if she was dreaming, dead, or alive. It was becoming so hard to tell the difference.

                      Oh well, I’ll think about it later, she thought, and mentally popped it into her clue and riddle box. Her mind wandered back to the story she’d just been reading, and the charming illustrations. The drawing of the young man in the white robe had seemed familiar, and she liked his name too…Sanso, The Wanderer.

                      As she imagined him, she felt herself lurch ever so slightly sideways, and as she did, the image in her mind of Sanso became suddenly life-like…incredibly so! He was looking at her in astonishment, and taking a step backwards, saying Lordy! not another one appearing out of thin air!

                      Illi looked around and found herself not in the sunny breakfast room but in a sandy cave, with a little girl in a wooly jumper, a young man in a white robe holding a large rusty key, and a parrot.

                      Suddenly Illi didn’t care anymore whether she was alive or dead, dreaming or awake. This was beginning to look like fun.

                      #207
                      F LoveF Love
                      Participant

                        Fiona had just received another rambling note from Dory, and was feeling rather bemused and perplexed.

                        Dory’s notes seemed to make less and less sense. The worst thing was that lately Quintin and Yann appeared to be following her lead. Of course she could be mistaken, the difference in language could be confusing things .. and there was all the merging they had been doing lately which meant they usually spoke in riddles. Fiona spoke very little French, just a few handy phrases such as “hello” and “butt”.

                        But as for Dory

                        Fiona was a kindhearted person and tolerant of others. But these tales Dory was spinning appeared to be increasingly bizarre and nonsensical. Endless beginnings which never seemed to lead anywhere.

                        Am I being too rational? Fiona wondered, always humbly willing to accept her own shortcomings, or “dark corners” as Quintin liked to describe them.

                        One day, after a particularly outrageous note from Dory about an orgy in her kitchen with 57 Italians she had to cook for, Fiona felt compelled to gently and tactfully question Dory.

                        You are just out for revenge, Dory had hissed at her. It’s just a dream, I think … hmmmmm or am I a dream … or is it all a dream ….. I will go and ask Archie! and off she had dashed in a flurry of colourful shawls.

                        Bugger this, thought Fiona. Revenge had been the last thing on her sweet natured mind. With no more housework left to complete, she decided to go for a walk to the nearby cafe to take her mind from all this madness.

                        #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.

                        #195

                        Everything started to happen at once. As Sanso sat up, craning his neck looking at the door in the ceiling, a terrific flapping and squalking noise approached from behind him, starting as a distant vibration and rising in an unbearable crescendo as it rounded the last bend in the tunnel. Suddenly the noise stopped as Sanso felt a weight on his shoulder, and then a thud on the sandy floor. Bugger this, the parrot screeched in his ear. Bugger this bugger this bugger bugger bugger…

                        Sanso was momentarily speechless, as his eye fell on the key. He picked it up and turned it over in his hand, feeling the rusty weight of it. He turned to look at the parrot on his shoulder, who thankfully had stopped his shrill squalking.

                        This must be the key to that door, he whispered to the parrot. Let’s try it and see.

                        Wait for Dory dear Wait for Dory!

                        Bugger this, sighed the parrot, Here I am bringing the key, remembering everything everyone else forgets, running the show here and I don’t even have a name in this silly story.

                        #188

                        This morning, Fiona and Quintin had a small impromptu chat —or rather, prompted by the story they were all weaving, that Archie, the puppet black panther, had been telling them last week-end that it was a magic connection between all of them…

                        Quintin: Your story was great!

                        Fiona: Thank you :) So was yours.

                        Have you written any more since I last looked at the story?

                        Quintin: no, I’m not that much inspired… I even considered to wrap in up in a way, but seeing you were all drawing so much from it, I think I will leave it open ever after…

                        Fiona: no, wrap it up if you feel.

                        I have drawn what I wanted. I will go and blow up the cave if we don’t finish it :)

                        Quintin: Ahahaha! Don’t restrict yourself ;)

                        Fiona: When you started the Malvina story, did you have an idea where it would go, or did you pick that one because you had no idea?

                        Quintin: This one nagged me because there were many people I felt behind it and I did not know how to get them to show up and make their presences known. And I felt that it was loose enough too, to allow people to jump into it; and there was your initial interest in the picture ;)

                        Fiona: The endearing dragons…

                        Quintin: Yeah…

                        But I had strictly no idea about the rest. It was just a bet, on luck…

                        That’s funny, because I had a strange impression of a little girl yesterday, in a futuristic city, named something like Janice , and it was like she knew now what she wanted to do, and it was something similar to that, something like creating worlds for other people, in which they could have fun, or heal, or explore things…

                        Fiona: And did she have any impression of what form that could take? Like books, or games or what…

                        Quintin: No, it was much more “real” in fact…

                        Fiona: you know like the card-captor game which I suppose is interactive, so real

                        Quintin: Yeah, perhaps a bit like that, yes; or like creating a ball of energy in which people can be drawn and experience as they will. It’s only a translation, but that’s the idea… in a way, that’s very similar to a game or a book, but only that it just feels totally “real”

                        Fiona: So a little bit like I have done with the story, to resolve something

                        Quintin: yeah, exactly, or with your paintings

                        Fiona: It can be really useful to take on other personas to do that, even like in drama type situations, being someone else…

                        Quintin: Yeah, people can unleash their imagination.

                        And I think there are still lots of things that we can expand in this universe in fact, not only related to the cave…

                        Fiona: such as? eggsamples?

                        Quintin: You said it! The eggs and relationships with dragons, all the magical artifacts or creatures. Didn’t you want a baby dragon?

                        Fiona: Yeah, I told you I did, but you just said some riddle!

                        Quintin: Did I? That’s not like me ;)

                        Fiona: Ahahhaha! It is you to the core

                        Quintin: LOL, damn me!

                        Fiona: Well, that is a bit strong, but …

                        Quintin: Ahahahahah. I said you would have to earn his trust? (or hers, for that matter)

                        Fiona: I can’t remember the eggsact wording, I think I had to work for it though, like you weren’t just handing out dragons on a plate

                        Quintin: It could bound with you very strongly and help you unravel your unknown magical powers. It’s not just a creature, it’s a complex personality, you cannot just take it like a puppy. There is a sharing between the two…

                        Fiona: So are you going to allocate baby dragons to people or what? Or shall I just go and find an egg that no one knew was there :)

                        Quintin: Ahahah, no, they will not be allocated, they will choose their own partners

                        Fiona: Ahahaha, one minute you say it is my story! And now you are back in control

                        Quintin: Ahahaha, the story has a willing of its own too…

                        Try to do what you want, it’s not a matter of control ; it’s just you’ll know what clicks and what does not…

                        Quintin: And actually, I don’t think everyone will be interested in dragons…

                        Fiona: How does a dragon help one learn magic powers?

                        Quintin: It’s just because there is an openness between the two; let me find something for you, that Elias (you know, Michaela’s partner), has told to me and Yann, when we had them on the phone last month.

                        Elias : I would express to you that, as you focus your energies with each other, and you allow yourselves to merge and feel into each others’ energies, you may in actuality each discover some obstacles that the other may not necessarily be aware of yet, and you can share that with each other, and therefore facilitate your interactions even further.

                        Fiona: And how having a baby dragon could help unleash our magic powers then?

                        Quintin: It helps because it reinforces your trust in your own abilities to connect. It’s not directing, it’s a sharing and exploration for both of them; that’s why they are picky. As you would be picky too, knowing you would share together all the darkest corners…

                        Fiona: I am not sure if i have dark corners ;)

                        Quintin: it was a metaphor :D

                        Fiona: ahahahhahahahahahah

                        Fiona: I know, so was mine :D

                        Quintin: ahahahahah

                        Fiona: I was thinking I feel really accepting of myself

                        Quintin: Yeah, that’s the point in the little adventure before you meet it.

                        You have shown your trust in yourself and in your abilities, and your self-centeredness, which is essential, for the dragon doesn’t want a frail personality. Because he drops his defenses too when he shares and bonds.

                        Fiona: Well I think it sounds scarey now, what if no dragon picked me…

                        Quintin: There will be instant recognition. And you don’t “need” a dragon actually, that’s what is important: it’s a catalyst, nothing more, nothing less…

                        Fiona: True.

                        Quintin: Like Arona managed to sneak into the cave without giving the answer to the riddle (egg-sitingly) because it mattered not to her, whatever the outcome, she was directing of herself.

                        Fiona: I felt like I have pictures now to assist me. I link strongly to pictures as a quick reference when I start to feel something like a negative emotion, for instance I may start to worry about how I am going to have enough money, or whatever, and I could quickly link to the spider picture

                        Quintin: you mean, you create an imagery, right? That is something which I like in your stories and emails; even though it is not necessary to create imagery, it’s always so entertaining, like having these funny creatures pop in the cave!

                        Fiona: Ahahahaha yes

                        Quintin: And also, in creating imagery, it helps you seeing it in a more neutral way

                        Fiona: I suppose it is just a quick trigger for the desired belief. I can link in quickly with the child, when I start to feel left out, for example.

                        Quintin: yeah, beliefs as an alphabet or a palette, neutral, but that can create words and sentences or images. And the imagery of the child was very similar for me, to that of the playfulness picture

                        Fiona: Yeah, I know… That’s what I said to you with the playfulness picture

                        Quintin: Of course, you know :)

                        Fiona: That I related most to the figure of blue hat… and big feet

                        Quintin: Ahahaha, stomping on the poor key-fish

                        Fiona: Nearly…

                        Quintin: Have to go now, thank you for this enjoyable conversation

                        Fiona: See you! :)

                        #184

                        The transmugrification was about to start.

                        Inspired by the improvised tune of Malvina, Leörmn had felt new arrangements coming for the cave.

                        He had been checking out every living being in the cave, and wanted to make things less complicated for them, without startling them too much. For creatures, that was easy, he could communicate well with them, and they knew the changes would be temporary.

                        But for humans, let alone gripshawks, that was more difficult as they could play deaf as pleased them.

                        Hopefully, the gripshawk was in good hands outside the cave, and that was probably better for her, as she would probably have hurt herself more than was necessary in not listening to the exhortations to stay calm.

                        As for the young adventuress, she was sleeping joyfully, and the little glukenitch that Leörmn had left to her side to keep watch and warn him in case she would be too distressed was silently watching over her.

                        Írtak was aware that the process was about to begin, as he had been trained by Malvina to listen to the flimsiest changes in the cave, and how his body was responding to these subtle modifications. This one would probably become of great dragon rider, but for now he was young and needed to hone his abilities. His father had been renouncing of telling him what was best and most reasonable for him to do, and allowed him to spend much time in the cave. He was not really interested by these magical things, but he knew they were important for his son, and was encouraging, in his own manner.

                        As for Malvina, she was unaffected in a way, because she was part of Leörmn as much as he was a part of her, and it was like they were moving hand in hand. These hiding and seeking the eggs were like a playful game between them, because their interests were different, but all in all, they were one, and trusted each other completely.

                        The more troublesome was perhaps Sanso, the wanderer. This one seemed trapped in between Worlds. The caves at times also acted as portals between Worlds, and this one had been unknowingly crossing the Worlds, as the delimitations between imagination and reality were only in words, and did not really exist. Leörmn was hoping he would not appear in the midst of the ruckus.

                        So, on one of the wooden decks near the apartments of Malvina, he sat, overlooking the glowing eggs, and bathing into the music.

                        Closing his eyes, he felt every part of the cave as if it were an extension of his own body, which was in fact much bigger than this current appearance, so big in fact that it was the World itself. And every creature breathing in it was a very cherished part of his body, and he slowly breathed in and out.

                        He envisioned a great light pouring from the volcanic insides of the cavern, which inundated the cave in a misty warmth. It was a loving light that neither glukenitches nor schpurniatz feared. And the sinuous insides of the caves expanded and straightened in huge corridors, and doors disappeared, and gorgeous paintings from the mind and craft of Malvina decorated the walls in rich colours.

                        And near the platform, inside the hall, a huge table sprung from the floor, for the banquet that was to come.

                        And a new egg was laid somewhere in the cave, glowing of an emerald tint.

                        This “one” was a bit different though…

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