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  • #594
    EricEric
    Keymaster

      Georges and Salome’s journal

      From Salome’s account of her journey to the Murtuane

      There is a purple beach that I have seen briefly in my third eye, with a stranded people of the Murtuane. It seems like a possible focus of Georges, named… “Jarvis” I would translate.
      Georges having moved to the mountainous and icy lands of the Duane, I thought it would be entertaining to discover more about this focus before telling him about it. Though it was not what I initially in mind as per an exploration, it surely has its purpose.
      This island has in fact the size of a continent, but being in an isolated part of the Murtuane, few are those knowing of it. It fosters some interesting creatures not found in other places of the Murtuane. Jarvis is not yet aware, but he is observed by some of them. Zentauras (these black-and-white striped centaur-like creatures) are guardians of this Island, and thus do not see the arrival of one of Jarvis’ kind as a particularly good omen. What puzzle them is that he has been rescued by one of the Daughters of the Sea.

      When I connect with Jarvis, he tells that he knows this land as “Kandulim”, a fabled island from which people could easily go into another world and bring back whatever is most precious to you. It always had been a legend for him until he had opened his eyes and seen the purple beach.

      #588
      AvatarJib
      Participant

        Georges and Salome’s journal

        From Georges’ account of their first journey to the Alienor star system

        It’s our first attempt to use the Jorid to move through dimensions. Well the trip was worth it. I enjoyed it tremendously. I felt so elastic and inside-outed… :))
        We had already gone through the Jorid to distant locations of our own dimension, but it’s slightly different. The adjustments of the encoding part of the physical manifestation is but one part of it.

        Our joint focus had led us to a particularly interesting dimension. I know I have already many focuses in it as Salome has too. Maybe it was what created the draw to this dimension. We just didn’t choose to focus at the same time and space… it was our choice. We are so strongly connected that it is not important. We can reach each other awarenesses at will and communicate so fully at any moment.
        It seemed to me that I already had a comprehension of the structure of this dimension. I’m not aware yet of when or how I did that but I understood that Salome wanted to take time, though time is not really relevant to describe the process of assimilation she was undergoing.

        I felt drawn to the Duane. I was feeling some strong resonance in the vibrations of the people of this “planet”, but it was not really a planet like our planet Earth in our dimension. I still don’t understand fully how it is created, but the shape is quite flexible, so to speak. I had chosen to manifest different qualities, relevant to my current exploration which could be translated as physical strength and sharp intellect, and a strong persuasive energy.

        Physically focused I could feel Salome in the RA2 of this dimension where a part of my attention was continuously focused. She already had made contact with different beings of the Duane in their dreams, preparing my coming so to speak :)) but her main focus of attention was directed to the Murtuane where I had hidden a few surprises for her. I’m sure she will appreciate the attention ;))

        #562

        Now who the bloody hell is Alfina Al was finding Becky’s obliviousness dangerously contagious…
        Of course, Alfina… He had seen her in his dreams at times, in the form of a splendid she-wolf named Iona.

        She’s also Aina in Yurick’s timeline… his future focus Janice whispered to Al, and smiled as she was seeing other probabilities forming in other dimensions in which Iona played an interesting role…

        #1974

        In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

        EricEric
        Keymaster

          WOW… lots of interesting ones in that cloud here:

          — Once under thinking, session clear words God/Human waiting speaking word, language beginning feeling looked. Key herself aware […]
          — Gaughran home looking funny random energies
          — Tracy floating, magic color seemed trip
          — Points side mountains, process great
          — Bugger difficult! Nice interesting moment link :bounce: creating action
          — Trust help face aspects seems play
          — Structures changing… Dancing green heart Finn
          Badul getting synch princess
          Twilight book important
          Elikozoe stories singing magical times. Able feel sort understand images mind, read Armelle. Voice started moments sync call Maevel

          #534
          EricEric
          Keymaster

            Well, to me, it was rather obvious it was a bleedthrough from one dimension to another… sighed Al, who had now half-long teal-coloured hair in perfect shape, as he was filing and shaping his nails turned back to a reasonable size.

            Oh, that FLOYD treatment did well on you marveled Saint Tina.

            FLOYD what?? looked back Becky, who was still fumbling into Sam’s hair, at the sound of the strange word that might have been a clue.

            FLOYD: Focus Lots On Yourself, Dimwit that’s the name of the treatment… It’s made of extracts of Fuckus Rapidus, a new plant that has been blooping in Russian taiga recently. It had covered a whole region in a fortnight. People wondered what they could do about them, but apparently, some old crone found an interesting use for them… But we’re getting side-tracked, aren’t we?

            Oh, this is fascinating Becky said, wondering if she would look better now with a mane of luscious raven hair on her beautiful dark-skinned head… What’s the name already? BOYF?

            No! BOYF is the exact opposite, it’s Blame On Your Friend it’ll have all your hair and nails fall in a few days, even your pubic hair I fear… I still don’t know what’s the use of that though there might be some customers for it… :-? Al was puzzled.

            #510

            :multimedia: Marvin Scrozzezi was considering a script that had been sent to him by his friend.
            Betty, his assistant, had insisted that he reads it…

            Seeing his current movie, it couldn’t be any worse in any case.
            The title of the script cracked him up.

            Ogregan, the Origeans

            Marvin giggled, almost spluttering his smoking chai on the script.

            He started to read the first paragraphs.

            FADE IN:
            EXT. WOODS
            A big humphing man plunges into the woods. Twigs slap at him,
            but the sound of gunfires keeps him going. Sheriff Marshall is
            taking the lead, but an auburn haired man plunges into the woods
            before him, followed by one dark-haired one. They are obviously
            brothers. The older one is ELVIN STREWN, he is following his
            younger brother with the lopsided hair, JAY STREWN.
            JAY is shooting at the fugitive, ALDO MC GALLIGAN, a local
            mobster known as the OGREGAN.
            
            Gunfire explodes in trees near the STREWN brothers, shot at them
            by MC GALLIGAN, and they dive and roll into hiding under a
            palisade.

            Interesting stuff, wonders Marvin… That mobster looks like a fascinating character…

            Flipping though the script he found page 57 another catching bit of reading…

             DISSOLVE TO:
            EXT. PROSPERITY BANK ; SHOT of a Texan bank on a quiet street.
            INT. PROSPERITY BANK
            There are three customers, male. Enters a MOTHER and her SON.
            TELLER#1: What can I do for you Mrs MC GALLIGAN?
            MRS GALLIGAN to her SON who is drawing on her dress: ALDO, will
            you keep still for a moment, good for nothing!

            Pfff, Marvin sighed, feeling bored.
            Not long after, he was sound asleep, snoring loudly on the comfortable chair.

            #507

            Ted was quite fond of Ogrean.
            Twilight was a bit sorry for the sheriff, for she had thought him a good guy at first,… whatever that means… but obviously he was a bit blinded by the slickness of the slimy condescending Pompousaur.

            But something interesting had happened this day, and she wondered how it would change things again.
            Apparently, from what she had caught from the scene, Ted had left the saloon in a cold rage, and it was quite obvious that the Pudgeon was a bit distraught… What could have moved the jovial sheriff like that?

            When she and Anna were changing clothes behind the scene after the representation, Anna started to talk quite freely and unexpectedly about the accident.

            — That Marshall guy is not as silly as he seems…

            As she was more talking to herself, Twilight didn’t answer.

            — What d’ya reckon? Anna asked more directly
            — Oh me? I don’t really know what happened…
            — Don’t play dumb with me, girl. You’re smarter than you wanna show.

            Twilight took some time to ponder…
            — I don’t think that Ogrean tried to bribe the sheriff, not as obviously…
            — Yeah…
            — Apparently, he started to explain the sheriff who he was supposed to arrest, and that didn’t please him the least.
            — More likely, yes. Definitely sounds like him…
            Anna?
            — Yes?

            Twilight almost wanted to tell her how she did understand Anna and how it must have been difficult for her with that child from Mc Gaughran, but she couldn’t express all of that.

            Terry is sweet.
            — Yes he is, he’s a lovely boy. I love him so much despite…
            — I know.

            When she came back to their ranch, Twilight felt relieved somewhat about what had occurred. Perhaps that this era of heavy cloaked ruthless order incarnated by Ogrean was coming to an end.
            She was a hopeless dreamer.

            #1957

            In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

            EricEric
            Keymaster

              Ahaha, yes! And something funny that caught my mind while discussing with TP is that as you go on scrying and writing about your findings, you modify the cloud, as the new words are reintegrated into it.

              A bit like self-fulfilling prophecies. Or the more you focus on things, the more you make them prominent…
              Interesting stuff…

              #89
              EricEric
              Keymaster

                I’m starting a new discussion if you find some interesting message in the Word Cloud of our energy deposits.
                Or poems, or nonsense…

                Feel free to indulge :p

                From wikipedia on scrying : Scrying or crystal gazing is the occult practice of using a medium, most commonly a reflective surface or translucent body, to aid perceived psychic abilities such as clairvoyance. The media often used to “see” are water, polished precious stones, crystal balls, or mirrors.

                #505

                Sirielle looked through the crystalline window.

                A humpback whale was passing by. Sirielle loved the song of the whales. Gorgean whales like this one were males, singing all during the rut to attract females miles away. Every season they would keep most of the same music, adding variations at times to the melody. This one was a sly one, Sirielle could tell. With its beautiful purulent budgeonic spots on its back, it was an old mighty male whale that she had seen already the past seasons, but its song had changed ever so slightly. It had probably plagiarized some of the most successful songs from other whales to become more attractive and that would make him a bit over the top.
                At least, the females had a good parade for such insistent huge males, they could just put themselves upside down, close to the surface, so that the indelicate male could not have access to the holy of holies.
                Sirielle felt so close to the whales.

                Today, she had noticed the first changes on her body. She was growing gills, and soon would be able to breathe underwater. She was already a proficient swimmer, from a young age, as her hands and feet had grown swimfins. But the most interesting modification wouldn’t occur before a certain age.
                When she had entered the room of Crystals, she had been a bit disappointed. She had expected some great ceremony with old wizened long-bearded robed priests to operate the crystals, but there had been only a young man not much older than herself, and a distracted middle-aged woman.
                The Crystals had the ability to beam some specially focused light and provoke realignment of the patterns of the body. It was like the vibration carried by the light and enhanced by the crystal would be modifying the vibrational quality of her organism, and make it change itself quite naturally from the inside.

                She couldn’t wait to go out in the oceanic depths and test her newly grown organs to swim with the huge cetacean.

                #499

                Thanksgiving, 1847

                That last business trip in British Honduras had proven fruitful to Aldous. It had almost made him forget about the blue bull of the Disperso family.
                Because Aldous was a collector. No one truly understood what were his motivations, but he was driven by the highest ideals. Some treasures weren’t deserved by the profane, he was thinking as he was munching on a tender juicy turkey leg.
                He belched with profound depth.
                Yes, he was doing everything with utmost depth and dedication.

                Take that blue bull for instance… A gift from Indian officials he had managed to have them bring here. Its real place was in a zoo, with a small fee at the entrance of course, but most importantly some information on how it was acquired and by whom. Definitely not in the farm of some hillbillies just because they have happened to win that stupid rodeo contest.
                In any case, he would put that right again in due time.

                Let’s think of more pleasant things. Like these mahogany traders who had came into contact with remote Mayan tribes. Mahogany was nice, but Mayan treasure were even more interesting.

                #497

                Hank, the saloon pianist, was hopelessly in love with Anna.

                But she had so many wooers, I hadn’t dared say how much he loved the blond dancer. For fear of public ridicule mostly, as he didn’t think he was very good-looking, with his horse-face… Not that she really cared with all these men having gone into her bed. But he couldn’t take the risk. Better a life in her shadow than taking a chance and spoil everything.

                He had always been here to care for her.
                When that young one had came to dance too, he’d been the one to make it easy for them. Or he thought he did…
                What was annoying Anna the most was that the newcomer would be using a blond wig and that might eclipse her. Of course, that wasn’t what Anna had said, but Hank knew her well enough to understand.
                He was the one coming up with that idea of Twilight as a stage name for the other one, keeping the shining Dawn for Anna. Like sisters, yet worlds apart. Apparently they both had found the idea great, and even if for Hank, Dawn and Twilight were different movements of the same seesaw, for Anna, it was pretty obvious that Dawn came before Twilight.

                When Anna had been fat with her blue-eyed baby boy, he had been providing her some shelter for some time. It was so obvious for everybody that nothing could happen between them… Anna was oblivious, trying to get herself a proper husband. She had almost convinced that Jo that he was the father. Hopefully Hank had thwarted the attempt. He had his own idea of who was the father, and that wasn’t something to be proud of.
                And Hank had better keep his mouth shut, as the guy in question wasn’t one to allow being tickled on such sensitive subjects.
                In the end, Anna got fed up with all his attentions, called him a sticky leech. How ungrateful…

                Now she was with that old bloke… A fat half-bald guy with long unkempt greyish greasy hair who had lost his wife, eloped with their former neighbour. The story had provided a good laugh to everyone who was well aware of it. But somehow Anna took compassion for that Manuel — who was nicknamed the Bar Rook due to his pressing penchant for alcoholic beverages.

                Hank was finding Twilight more interesting… Free of romantic bonds and dazzlingly beautiful as she was growing.
                Once in the beginning of her representation he had found her crying behind the bar, after having been hauled around by Anna once again.

                She had told him an interesting story about her wig. It was a gift from her mother’s foster sister. The two women had suckled the same Ol’ Granny Lucy and had kept very close over the years. But her mother’s foster sister had a tough life, and she made a business of selling her golden hair to make wigs. Twilight’s was one of those. A gift from this aunt, which was all the more dear and precious to her. She had said to Twilight that it would draw to her good fortune, and fame too…
                It was easy for Hank to imagine that to become true.

                #469

                Leörmn was feeling a bit weird to be so intimately explored by this Georges. He was seeing him, actually another aspect of himself with his simultaneous eye in that other time. He was wondering why Malvina was also choosing to perceive time as the other human beings. Leörmn, and other dragons had a very different way of exploring and being in time and space. They were their focus and it was simultaneous… it was also ever changing and that’s why the narrator is having lots of difficulties to translate that… but if you connect with your inner senses I’m sure you’ll get it right :D

                Well the dragon was seeing simultaneously the Georges in this particular intersection of their aspects in this now that was also connected with so many nows. He could easily follow the particular movement of this Georges and was seeing also the many paths and probabilities he was following at the same time. Leörmn had that particular multi-dimensional focus with which he could easily communicate with his human friends. He wasn’t mentioning all that they were doing in the many intersections of his self for it was unnecessary, but he was aware they weren’t fully aware… or rather that their awareness was directed differently.

                This Georges, and this Salome were similar to Malvina. He was fully aware of the vastness of her being and of her deep understanding of his own vastness. They were connected and intersected in numerous ways. This creature of theirs was here too. She was with Malvina. In other intersections she was manifesting a different shape, this one was interesting also. Her energy was subtly different also, there were different energies that were intersecting with other aspects of these Georges and Salome.

                The room was reshaped in himself, so it was reshaped in what the humans would call the outside… but it was inside, there was no such thing as outside.

                For a few days, this particular intersection of himself was changing also because Malvina was altering this aspect of herself she was calling her thought process. She was disassociating many layers of energies, of patterns and rearranging them. It was a fun reorganization for him also… in a manner of speaking it had already happened, but it was a new exploration and it was radiating in many probabilities. He added a smell of roses in the cave, an impulse. The shades of pink he added in the crystals was not a random choice either :yahoo_rose:

                He realized now what was the new energy he’d been feeling, he added some qualities and aspects to this exploration and included a fleck of himself in the Leo. What a funny creature. His aspects intersecting with it were all full of joy and fun. It was a good choice, he thought as a translation of his excitement in this new exploration. He was enjoying tremendously this present of this Salome.

                He shape-shifted a little to reorganize his scales on his shoulders so the Leo could easily rest there, and projected himself to Malvina.

                :www:

                #468

                Yann had been gloomy for a few days. Actually it was not really gloomy, his mood was changing quite quickly and he’d had hard times to follow himself. He didn’t want to impose his mood on his friends and even with Yurick it had been up and down. Nothing to worry about, he thought. He’d been told by Malika it was a clearing of sort, old aspects to let go, they had served their purpose and it was time he accepted the change in himself.

                It was easier said than really done. Last Sunday he felt he was “fragmenting”, he felt part of himself gather and do something he couldn’t really define, he felt like they were moving their own way, leaving for their own exploration… but he had still the experience of it. And in the following days he could feel that he could easily tap into these aspects when he wanted to.

                The other unusual thing that happened was that he was feeling many inputs from many sources he couldn’t always define. Most of the time he could associate easily a face or a situation, at the beginning it was still singularly focused. The more he allowed that, the more multi-layered it became, it was blending with stories of sort, different aspects of himself he felt, and also aspects of his friends or of perfectly unknown people. Some could be translated as famous individuals, some as homeless people, some as future and some as pasts… and the weirdest was that there were not one version of each, though he was in a way more inclined to focus on one of them… there was a theme behind all that… He hadn’t found it yet though.

                He was feeling like evolving in a sticky atmosphere and he could fill it with his fears, so they could express, but the stickiness of this energy was in a way holding them tightly and he had difficulties to let go of these fears. Fears to be abandoned, fears to be less than, to be uninteresting or just not as interesting as… well all that was about comparison and self worth, he was feeling that it was not about the whole of himself, it was particular aspects still holding to these separations from himself. He was feeling he was to accept that in order to let go of this separation. But the non separation was also frightening him because he was frightened by the vastness of his being, the vastness of the connections he was feeling… “and what if I loose my beloved Yurick in the process?” he thought. Couldn’t he just trust himself that he would always be connected to his friend, because that was what he wanted?

                He looked at his cat Arona. She seemed far from all those concerns, and he noticed she was purring more strongly than usual. He smiggled… hahaha, what a funny word. He stroked her fur and she moved her body with grace and abandon, how lovely of her to allow such an openness and such trust that it is safe and pleasurable.

                He smiled broadly and stroked her belly, full of this joyous and wondrous feeling of love of himself. He felt how it was radiating from him to all his friends and all beings.

                :yahoo_love_struck:

                #449

                All that farting had been quite exhausting, but the mummy felt that she was reincorporating vigor more quickly now, as the old fartesque energy was giving way.
                This was a quicker process than birthing, but also more disturbing.

                She slowly started to unwrap her bandages.
                She smiled as she saw her peach smooth skin on her hands.

                :fleuron:

                Malvina had clapped her hands and made the food and drinks and decorations disappear in the reception hall of the cave, feeling the time was not to big parties right now. The guest had moved again, and she had not been in the mood for party either.
                She had not yet managed to reestablish contact with her sisters and that was a more pressing matter.

                Leörmn had been retreating into his seasonal slumber, and would not be of great help at the moment, so she knew it was also time for her to get back to simple things and not worry about what was not yet here. Probabilities had simply moved, they would come back.

                The silgreen tree had bloomed, and she wanted to brew some potions with its flowers. She would then go with Irtak to the village sell some vials of potion, and perhaps they would take the opportunity to see Huÿgens too, as he sometimes needed such potions for his langoats.

                :fleuron:

                For Illi the cat, that cave filled with slimey scaly beasts was now out of her way.
                Good riddance.

                This dead Illi experience had been so intense she had almost believed there indeed was a pink indigo dragon right were she was at the entrance of the cave. But the impression had vanished all of a sudden, and she had found herself with her mind again her own only, without the echoing thoughts of that deranged other.
                She had found a tree nearby, and comfortably seated on some high branches had been mediating with the help of trance inducing betel catkins that she carried with her as she traveled.

                She had seen some weird stuff, like farting bandage wrapped people putting cobblestones to make a way to the sky, but that was enjoyable. As nothing really could make sense that night, she decided to go to sleep on her tree.

                In the morning, a snorting sound made her raise her pointy ears. Just below her tree, a man was eating and singing, looking at some map, obviously planning some interesting adventure…

                :fleuron:

                In the cave, where Vincentius was left with the Ugling boy and Mandrake, the latter finally decided to break the ice.

                — How pitiful we left that sabulmantium to the snorting man… Mandrake said, we could have had a peek into Arona’s adventure… Not that I am concerned, she is so brave, but you know, she’ll always be my little… What am I saying? mumbled Mandrake temporarily confused.
                — Oh, you mean, Arona had a sabulmantium?
                — Mmm, well, of course… We projected hairy cows and stuff… (I’m really saying the stupidest things today, might be that herbal tea, shivered Mandrake, licking his paw and combing with it the unkempt hair on his head)
                — Interesting… But you know if you want to have a look, we can do otherwise. Let me see…
                — (trying to make yourself important, huh) thought Mandrake

                Vincentius took a little blue bag tied to his belt, and threw a pinch of a smelly mossy powder on the smoldering embers.
                A thick greenish smoke started to rise making Mandrake retreat carefully (or tactfully he would say) in his favourite place behind the pile of logs to look at the discomfiture of poor Vincentius without having to overwhelm him too much with his own superior sharp intuitive senses.
                But to Mandrake’s surprise, the smoke steadied like a moving wall, and images started to foarm.

                — Hey, this is my little girl, Arona! Mandrake couldn’t help but say.
                A-lo-na, the slow voice of Yikes/Zacquer said.

                #1397
                EricEric
                Keymaster

                  You’ll notice that it works better when there is interesting content. Like on Armelle’s thread of meditation, dreams, syncs and thoughts , there are advertisements on how to get abundant, and on philosophy, and reality creation and such… It’s quite impressive.
                  Guess we will be bound to Guinness advertisements here ;))

                  #432

                  Inspired by the courageous example of Finn, Quintin was thinking of changing his name too.

                  There were too many Quintins out there, and he needed to find something more suitable. Michaela had mistaken him again for another Quintin, and of course, Quintin had heard Elias laugh in the background.
                  Yann’s battery of his new phone was charged at 33%, so that was probably a confirmation too.

                  Why not something like Yurick
                  Looking for a confirmation, Quintin found this.

                  YORICK: Altered form of JORCK. This name was used by Shakespeare for a court jester in his play ‘Hamlet’. :yahoo_skull:
                  JORCK: Danish form of GEORGE

                  So that was it… Having recently read some poems from George Gordon Byron, Quintin thought that it was in perfect sync.
                  Yurick was henceforth adopted.

                  Interestingly, Yurick noticed that it was the 303 rd comment posted. So it was obviously another confirmation. Perhaps that with his new name, now Yurick wouldn’t need 3 confirmations in a row…

                  #1849
                  AvatarJib
                  Participant

                    Asaris — The blue men’s world — by Írtak

                    The race of the blue men was originating from a far off star system they called Asaris in a dimension quite different from the ones of Quintin and of Malvina.
                    Their connection with us is quite interesting in that they have managed to project aspects of themselves in other dimensions and give them shapes. One blue man, in a manner of speaking, may be the “result” of a common projection by several inhabitants of Asaris, merged aspects and common intent. They can be associated with pop-ins in a way, or with energy exchange, but the action is different.

                    While projecting, they are aware of their own focus in Asaris and of the other focuses they are projecting in other dimensions. Some of them can do that in many dimensions… I’ve not yet been able to really understand the process and how they can maintain the focuses… but that is filtered through my current understanding of the process. While different focuses of essences are “independent”, the projections of the blue men are quite connected to their originating point in Asaris.

                    Andrimiñ is one of them. One of the participating essence is connected to Blöhmul who also have focuses in the other dimensions. In him I feel also the essence Tomkin.

                    #410

                    On Mount Elok’ram, the old abbot Hrih Chokyam Lin’potshee was gardening.

                    Despite his old age, and his being at the head of the Monastery, Hrih Chokyam was always doing his hour of gardening with great application and talent, as was asked to everyone, from the youngest to the oldest monks studying here.
                    The Monastery was a place of healing and teaching, dedicated to Margilonia, the Elder Goddess thought to have created the Earths. As a matter of fact, gardening was the simplest —yet most effective— way to fully appreciate the grandness and the interconnectedness of the whole of creation.

                    Hrih Chokyam remembered when he was a little child in the vast fertile plateaus in the Eastern part of Dam Adbor, bordering the high mountains. He had always loved the mountains, better than the plains, or the towns where the wars and plots were fomented endlessly. So he was wandering many times in the mountains, to collect herbs and also just for the fun and exhilaration of climbing higher and higher, and seeing the world as a small thing that could be placed into his hands.
                    His parents had wanted him to become a farmer, but some wealthy neighbours had thought he was showing signs of being able to do much better, and even proposed to have him pursue a career in the administration of Dam Adbor’s capital.
                    Young Hrih had considered the proposition for some time, and one day, went deep into the mountains to make his decision.
                    There he’d got this powerful connection with an enveloping warm manifestation of Margilonia, who prompted him to go higher than anyone had ever been on the top of the mountains, were a natural point of great potential magical energy was. Here, she had conveyed to him, he would have a monastery built, a perfectly clear channel for this yet untaped magical energy.

                    Ninety nine years ago that was.
                    Hrih had been higher than any human had ever been, in the search of this point, knowing he would feel it resonate with him. The mountains, he had learned were not as empty as humans had thought, and there were many other kinds of sentient beings living here, far from the wars below.
                    Interestingly, assisted by these magical sentient creatures and Margilonia’s energies, building the structure had been easy. He had never thought harnessing magic would be that easy, perhaps just because the traveling magicians coming at times in the village to do some healing or just funfair exhibitions were making that very difficult, and requiring lots of training.

                    The truth was, magic was everywhere, only people had become blind to it, or just lazy to use it. But old Hrih, even if his eyes were not as sharp as they used to be, could see it clear as day. Magic was in everything. Especially in one’s own very existence.
                    That was the first of the things people coming to learn in the monastery had to understand. Deceptively simple, yet the most difficult lesson for many of them. He had to admit, he had struggled quite a bit with it too, during the endless wandering into the vast mountains. But there had always been a root to eat, or some fresh mushrooms or eggs apparently left here just for him… He laughed now, thinking of it.

                    Hrih’s life had been so fulfilling. He knew he was weak now, and would not see the springing season, and he was thinking he had to choose someone to take care of the monastery. Few people went to stay here, for as they had learned and applied what was to learn, their own passion was coming back to them, and they would not need to stay any longer.

                    But a few days ago, a young one had come, announced to old Hrih by a singing rosy finch.
                    As usual, all was provided when things were ready for it.
                    Hrih had no doubt that the hesitant young man would be the next one to hold the title of Lin’potshee, or “Precious Elder”.

                    #400

                    Even with the help of the buntifluën, which translated the foreign expressions between the men of the Seas and him, young Tomkin had some difficulty to explain some concepts to the men.

                    When the three boats had landed on the warm shores of Golfindely, Tomkin had been a little anxious about the ominous looking men, especially the giant one, with the big ugly baby face who seemed to be in command.
                    But apparently, Tomkin had found a faithful friend in the black and white myna, and the ugly baby-faced giant had been interested by his unusual talent of being able to understand and communicate with them.

                    I had been two weeks now that the men had arranged a settlement for themselves on these friendly shores, and Tomkin had been quickly adopted by the whole crew.
                    He soon made friend with Jahiz, Austor and even the wild man in shackles —who had told his name unwillingly in energy, that the buntifluën had helped to translate. Tomkin was finding that the wild man, Cpt. Razkÿ, had been a greatly interesting adventurer and had known many places of the lands from where the men came. In fact, he reminded him of Captain Bone.
                    The most difficult to deal with was the chief cook Renouane, who was complaining about the lack of some kind of unknown vegetable to do the meals. Jahiz had comforted Tomkin saying they were all fed up with “cabbage” anyway.

                    The villagers around had become slowly aware of the presence of the foreigners on their lands, but they were relatively accustomed to seeing strange people, and upon seeing that these ones were friendly with Tomkin, they returned to their Scotch bonnets harvests, without much more of an afterthought.

                    Tomkin had helped them to learn basic words of their language, words of greeting (“wallahu”), of thanks (“alami”) etc.
                    But the ugly baby-faced giant (who had said he was “Badul”) was interested in many other things.
                    And the concept Tomkin was now struggling with, to clearly explain it to Badul, was that of the traveling portals.

                    Badul had somehow intuited that the strange shift in the environment they had met in the middle of the Rift, was something due to Unseen action. And when he had heard Tomkin speak about these methods for traveling easily, he had been interested in understanding more of them.
                    Until now, it was a frustrating experience, as the young boy only knew such and such, probably told to him by some others, and not having actually experienced one himself.
                    But the information was good to learn.

                    Bringing back this technology to his land would probably be more interesting than some decorative glowing egg, he was thinking…

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