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  • #260
    F LoveF Love
    Participant

      Arona and Mandrake sat side by side looking into the glass ball filled with sand. They had been practising for some time, and had both become quite proficient at shifting the sand.

      So what shall we make now Mandrake? Something we both like maybe?

      A fish perhaps? suggested Mandrake

      Oh excellent idea! and no sooner was it thought of than the sand would shift accordingly.

      Scrambled eggs I think too, on chunks of homemade bread, said the still hungry Arona, and chocolate!

      Some milk for me, said Mandrake

      Hmmm not sure about that Mandrake. Lots of cats have allergies to cows milk.

      Mandrake rolled his eyes And chocolate might make you fat, he said, but was I so rude as to mention it? and Mandrake created a hairy cow, and a farmer to milk the cow.

      Arona laughed, and created a little sand langoat, just in case the stubborn Mandrake changed his mind. Langoat’s milk would be much better for him she thought.

      The glass ball was now filled with a miniature world of sand objects.

      Arona leaned back against the wall and stroked Mandrake. She felt very fond of the grumpy cat. The feeling of being able to create whatever she wanted had been fun. Perhaps, she thought, her creations were rather rudimental at this stage, but then already she could feel bigger things brewing within her as her confidence grew. She felt as though the sand game had focused her, like a beam of light which shone only on that which was intended.

      Arona closed her eyes and allowed her mind to open and reach out, something she knew she had always been able to do easily, but her fear of the “madness” had made her cautious and hide these abilities, till she became unsure of them. The “madness” was the term the people in her Village had given to the poor wretched wandering ones, who claimed to hear voices and communicate with Gods. Once as a child she had seen the Villagers drive one of these poor souls from the Village, shouting and abusing him. She did not really understand what he had done, only that the Villagers were afraid of him. So Arona had felt it was better to keep some things to herself.

      Arona left her mind open and allowed images to enter. Some of the images she did not understand, and she let them flow on, enjoying the energy of them notwithstanding. She saw a dragon, it was not the one with the mouthful of riddles, but another one, a baby one she felt. Her ability to see pictures was quite rusty, but she felt a connection with this baby dragon and a great fondness for it.

      She felt a great peacefulness in her body, a knowledge that walking in the world of magic would be easier from now on

      #231

      HAHAHA! it is your first step now. Let me just remind you that you need not play MY game, the game is yours, ever.” said Georges.

      Dory was feeling a bit confused now. What was he talking about, what game? And first step to what? She couldn’t hold to the anger nor the irritation; all of that was feeling not real or not here, or not there for all she knew.

      “The direction you follow is your choice, and where I come from is not relevant to this conversation. You may say I come from yourself :) and indeed you called me and I wanted company. Do you want more coleslaw?”

      Without waiting for her answer he refilled her plate with the tasty food.

      All those smells,… she could feel so many different things, things that appeared not to be here. A movement caught her attention in her periphery. As she turned her gaze whatever was there had vanished. And this humming, it was like music, but not very clear… if she could just focus more on it, yes like that, she was feeling sooo calm and she began laughing.

      “Hahahah… haha. Did you drug the coleslaw?” She asked, trying to appear angry and unhappy, but all she could do was smile and laugh.

      The images around her were shape-shifting, there were many colors, some of them she didn’t know could be possible, the walls were melting of sort and becoming transparent, or just fluid maybe…

      “Well you see how it’s easy to relax. Let’s see where you want to go now my dear Rafaela”, he said winking.

      And everything turned into a great maelström but she felt secure and could feel his presence reassuring, and there were all those other faces and places, some felt very familiar, had she ever been there before?

      #218

      Illi was getting bored waiting for Dory under the door on the cave ceiling with this motley crew. Sanso was looking slightly bemused, but smiling happily, as if he was enjoying the company after years of travelling alone. India Louise was yawning and fading in and out, there one minute and gone the next, and then back again. The parrot had flown off to look for Dory.

      Watching India Louise drift in and out was making Illi fuzzy. She started to drift in and out as well. She started to piece together the out-bits until they all stuck together and formed a picture.

      She was squatting next to a hole, a dry hole in the desert with the hot dry wind flapping her shawls. A boy, her son she thought, was leaning towards her, earnestly talking, and then a decision was reached…..

      Then the scene changed and she was in a swirling mist, a pea souper, must be London. Illi’s thought intruded slightly into the scene, making it wobble and the images jumble up. Illi saw a tuppence on a grey pavement and as her eyes rose she could just make out through the mist a sign for an exhibition of artifacts. Illi felt herself drawn to the picture on the sign and felt the hot dry wind and the flapping of the shawls in the wind on her face again. The flapping was getting louder and louder and Illi opened her eyes.

      The parrot was back, and Dory was with him.

      #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…

        #202
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          Jacqueline Bleomelen was a strict yet very affectionate nanny. Her Breton name being barely pronounceable by the English speaking kids she had at her charge, she was most of the time simply called Nanny.

          Once, one of the rude kids from a previous home where she had been serving an atrociously callous French Count, had called her an Old Gibbon, referring to her wrinkled face. But she had a very light-hearted nature, and wouldn’t show any hint of taking offense.

          Better, she liked the association with the playful and ingenious apes, and kept the moniker as it was more easily pronounced by the English kids she had in charge, and made them laugh that they could be so irreverent without facing punishment.

          For special occasions, Jacqueline was wearing a funny costume that made the children often wonder why she had put some funny hat with little moth-feelers loose on her chin, but that, she had explained was a traditional dress from her homeland of Brittany.

          Tonight, Jacqueline, or Nanny Gibbon, was having a funny dream, but perhaps that have been because she had been very excited by that excerpt she had read before going to sleep. As she was very pious, every night before going to bed, she would read a random quote of the Bible.

          Last night it had been the Old Testament, from the Book of Joshua. It was about the conquest of the Promise Land, and talked about a king from Hazor named Jabin…

          And in her dream, Jabin was a strange looking man, lost in the middle of ruins, who wanted to contact a woman about discoveries he had made in the Promise Land. He had found an entrance to a cave that had befuddled him. He hadn’t ventured too far into the cave, but anytime he had, he had found it impossibly deep and wide. So he wanted to share that discovery with that woman, but she was flying around in a parrot-coloured ballet tutu, on top of a three-humped flying camel…

          Even the rigorous Jacqueline couldn’t repress a laugh at the unlikely images that her tired mind had produced.

          #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! :)

          #186
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            Arona eventually woke from her sleep, still tangled in the images from her dreams. Unable to remember these images she was left feeling as though she were adrift in a boat on the ocean, not caring where the wind and waves may take her.

            She had no feeling that morning. It was as though a door had closed in her mind, shutting out the part that could feel. She did not know, nor care, whether she was shutting out joy or sorrow, only that some part of her wanted to be alone.

            She remembered the words of the older woman who had sat with her and soothed her to sleep. Or was she already asleep? Was the woman a dream?

            Use your magic, she had said.

            When she was young, in the Village, magic had come easily to Arona. When did it end?. She screwed up her eyes trying to concentrate. It hadn’t ended all at once. Did it start to end with the cloak her parents had given her?

            Arona shook her head briskly and thoughts, like leaves in the wind, lifted and fell back to earth again in new formations.

            :fleuron: :fleuron: :fleuron:

            The candle still burned brightly and her attention was drawn to the heavy wooden door, knowing she could not put it off any longer. In her bag of treasures was a key. It had been given to her at the beginning of her 21 st year, as was custom in the Village. It was no surprise to her that it fitted the lock perfectly.

            Thank you for having me room, she said as she left.

            No, thank YOU, replied the sleepy glukenitch.

            :fleuron: :fleuron: :fleuron:

            The door led directly into another space, larger, brighter. She could sense someone there, but not in solid form. It was a beautiful woman who Arona felt an immediate affinity with, and then a strange sadness came unbidden.

            Why sad?

            I have no clue answered Arona briskly, quickly shutting the door back on these pesky emotions.

            You always know, just feel it

            So Arona closed her eyes tightly and allowed herself to feel the answer.

            Because you know who you are, and it made me realise I have no idea who I am.

            Mmmmmmm, said the woman, maybe you would care to look at my new paintings. Actually they are some of yours.

            Intrigued, Arona felt this would be a suitable distraction and she looked with much interest.

            The first painting was of a child, in a beautiful meadow of flowers. The child appeared to be completely absorbed, concentrating on a small blue butterfly which had lighted on her finger.
            The picture itself moved and changed shape as though it were a portal to another living, breathing world. In the corner of the picture were some other children who seemed to be playing happily together.

            Arona, who had felt immediately connected with the young child frowned.

            Doesn’t the little girl feel left out?

            Go in, said the woman, Go inside the picture and feel the answer.

            Oh, and you might want to leave your cloak behind.

            So Arona did, and she became the child, but also stayed herself, observing the scene. She felt the child’s happy fascination in her connection with the butterfly. Not just the butterfly. She could feel her connected with the earth, and the gentle breezes and the beautiful flowers … The child was deeply contented, absorbed in the moment, moving happily with the flow of her interest.
            I remember feeling like that, thought Arona, before the magic went.
            She gently drew the child’s attention to the other children and felt the flow of energy between them. The child was so sure of who she was and where she wanted to be, and Arona could feel the loving acceptance of her playmates.
            As the child’s attention went to the others, one of the children looked up and came running over. They sat together and laughed at some funny rabbits which had appeared in the meadow.

            :fleuron: :fleuron: :fleuron:

            Arona returned to the cave.

            You look troubled

            Well, Arona felt a little perplexed. It’s all very well playing with butterflies and rabbits in a meadow, but it is not terribly practical.

            On the contrary, perhaps it is very practical. Would you like to see another of your paintings?

            Suspended gracefully between two posts was a beautiful, glistening spider web. Little drops of rain hung like jewels on a chain. An enormous spider waited patiently in the shadows. As Arona watched a small insect happened at that moment to be caught, and the spider began to creep along the delicate lines.

            Arona shuddered a little. I might not jump into that one .

            The woman laughed, Use your magic Arona. Weave your magic web and let it all come to you.

            Oh you are the second person to tell me to use my magic. An old lady came to me in my dreams, I think.

            Well I gave her the same advice, years ago.

            More damn riddles, Arona thought to herself, and the woman laughed.

            One final painting of yours I would like to show you. It is beautiful is it not?

            Arona stared mesmerised for a moment, and then leapt right in.

            She sat among an audience, captivated by the dancers on the stage ahead. Beautiful music played and it reminded Arona of the music she had heard earlier. The dancers leapt and twirled and Arona was enraptured.

            Dance Arona, she heard the woman’s voice

            I can’t dance like that, I’m not good enough.

            It doesn’t matter

            And Arona could not hold back any longer and entered the body of one of the dancers. She did not know the dance so she made up her own steps, and strangely this seemed to fit perfectly with the other dancers.

            :fleuron: :fleuron: :fleuron:

            Back in the cave the woman seemed to be listening to something Arona did not think she could hear.

            Things are shifting she said

            Oh lordy, are they said Arona, What should I do now?

            Feel the answer

            Arona felt. I am very hungry, eggceptionally so.

            #147
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Dory was enjoying her holiday. She loved the bambu bungalow with the open sides that allowed the mysterious scents to waft though with the warm breeze, and the wispy images to float right through her. She wriggled on the water bed, and then lay still, and let the ripples smooth her.

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