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  • #683

    The landscape had become oddly unfamiliar to Franiel. He had walked this path to the Village at the foot of the mountains maybe a half a dozen times, yet he felt certain he had never before seen these surroundings. He had never seen this patch of bright yellow flowers with their golden centers, nor this gnarled tree whose branches dropped down over the path causing Franiel to stoop in order to pass by. He stopped, hesitating, should he return the way he had come, find where he had left the path? Yet even while his mind was telling him what he was seeing should not be, he knew in his heart that he had taken no wrong turning. He touched the trunk of the old tree, and asking for wisdom, felt it’s reassuring energy calm his anxiety. The way ahead, though unexpected, felt friendly.

    As fate would have it he had not journeyed much further when he spied a fellow traveler coming towards him on the path ahead, a small figure swathed in colourful robes, wild and dishevelled locks of hair protruding exuberantly from beneath his brown leather cap.

    Greetings Fellow Traveler, cried out Franiel as he drew nearer, My name is Franiel. I am travelling from the Monastery of Margilonia to the Village of Chard Dam Jarfon, and foolishly I appear to have mislaid my way.

    The stranger chuckled merrily. Greetings Franiel, Indeed If that is your destination then I fear perhaps you are more lost than you care to admit. He motioned towards the grassy bank at the side of the path. Perhaps we might sit awhile and talk, for I know that I for one, could do with a rest and bite to eat.

    A splendid idea, replied Franiel, sensing magic in the stranger and enjoying immensely the unexpected diversion.

    So my friend you are a long way from the Village of Chard Dam Jarfon.

    Am I indeed? mused Franiel, How could that be, for that was where I was heading, and as far as I know I did not step from the path, and yet here I am.

    The stranger chuckled again, and his laughter was so infectious that Franiel joined in, not really being able to identify the source of the amusement, yet feeling all the better for it.

    And how important is it that you get to the Village of Chard Dam Jarfon?

    I am on a mission from Aum Geog, the newly appointed Abbot, replied Franiel, as he pulled out the chalice from his pack, to have this cup inscribed.

    The stranger reached out for the chalice, and studied it intently for a few moments. He took some of the water from his own water bottle and poured it into the chalice. Muttering a few words which Franiel did not recognise, the stranger closed his eyes and held the cup up as though offering it to the Gods. After a few moments he took a sip from the chalice. A look of delight crossed his face, As I thought! he chuckled.

    Now drink, my friend, he said offering the chalice back to Franiel.

    This is the sweetest Nectar you carry in your bottle ! Franiel exclaimed in surprise after taking some sips.

    The stranger chortled, It was plain water from the river I passed on my travels. I gather from your surprise that you do not know the magic of this chalice?

    Franiel shook his head. Well to be honest I have not really given the chalice much consideration, only to briefly wonder at my task. My mind has been more occupied with other matters. Franiel looked at the chalice in his hands, And what more can you tell me of this magic?

    I can caution you to be wary my friend, I would not be so quick to show strangers you meet on your path this cup, for be assured there would be some who would be keen to possess this. He frowned for a moment. What are the words which are to be inscribed on this chalice?

    Franiel pulled the sealed letter from his pack, and, feeling only a moment’s hesitation, opened it; “Bibere venenum in argento”, he read haltingly, then shrugged. I confess I don’t know what that means, I have not been taught in the old language.

    It is a curse of the Ancients, it means “drink poison from a cup of silver”. Seeing the puzzled look on Franiel’s face the stranger went on to explain. The magic of the chalice is to transform. I uttered words of love and the water transformed to sweet nectar. Had I whipered words of hate and fear, had my intention been to kill, I could have changed the water to bitter poison. The power though is not in the chalice, it is in the intention of the one who holds it and who knows of it’s magic.

    Franiel shook his head, bewildered, I can find no sense in this. Why would Aum Geog curse the cup in this way?

    The stranger turned and looked at Franiel, his clear blue gaze piercing and direct, I don’t know this Aum Geog, neither do I know his heart …. I know that you are the bearer of the cup now Franiel. Make sure you are asking the right questions.

    #676

    A hotel room in New Venice, January 2034

    Sean had agreed reluctantly.
    As his father Lord Wrick had been aware for some time, Sean had been heavily drinking following the death of Margaret, and though he could still speak with her, he had a hard time not to take her as an illusion from his guilty mind.
    So, wary of the impacts on his grand-children, Guinevere and Peregrine, Hilarion Wrick had demanded him to personally take care of their education, and have them move with him. The year before, he had acquired an old mansion in the Orkney Islands, in a healthy location far from the buzz of towns, and was in the process of having it restored. Its previous owner, Baron O’Dolly seemed to have disappeared and Lord Wrick had seized the occasion, as there was a nice big area of land around the place. Restoration would soon be over, he’d said, and he was wishing the children would move in the next spring.

    Of course, Sean had known that his father’s proposal was no mere proposal. With the wealth and lawyers he had at his disposal, even if he would have to wait years, he could get what he was wanting. Even if he was to crush everything in the process. So he had agreed.

    Why do you feel sorry? You are no fit to raise children, and Becky is certainly no better than you… the ghost of Margaret was saying
    You know what it is, I feel so inadequate… What will my children remember of me?
    Don’t be stupid, they love you… And I’ll talk to them… On the contrary, loving the old bat won’t be as easy for them

    This almost brought up a smile on Sean’s face.

    Yes, you’re right, and you are right for Becky and I… Perhaps we’ll have children, but for now, I suppose we want to enjoy being together, and take a deep bracing breath.
    Then stop being so gloomy and go call her. Perhaps you even want to start looking for an apartment in New Venice for both of you, to make her a big nice surprise for your wedding. She didn’t seem so fond of the idea of staying in Dublin for extended periods of time.
    Yes! And I’ll book our honey moon too… She wants to see so many places I suppose I’ll have to book a cruise over the world. And perhaps get tickets for the first trip in the cross-oceanic tunnel… Thank you Margaret, I’m so full of projects…
    Why, thank YOU, she said with a bwink (a simultaneous blinking and winking, in ghost’s jargon).

    #1623

    In reply to: Synchronicity

    Jib
    Participant

      Ok, let’s add some more synchs then :)

      When I wrote comment 508 in Malvina’s story, it was not specifically about skulls… but I recall the strong attraction I had toward the word “moaning” when Jarvis took his head in his hands… I didn’t write it down though but it was the meaning of it. That’s for the picture of the Skull in Dusky Moana :p

      Yesterday, I had the impression of Sam also… after the unexpected visit of a friend who’s going to London today, I had the desire to write a comment about Sam receiving that visit, and this desire was coming over and over, along with the desire to write a comment about Andrimiñ… but I couldn’t find how to shape them. So I’m letting that go for now.

      Well now, for you Francie, here is the flyman picture :D

      How is it? Well don’t look at the framing of the pic and other details :))

      And looking at the diamond skull, it really could have been in the latest Madonna concert :))))

      #638

      He did recall his name in a dream. Jarvis.
      A strange dream actually.
      There was that woman… whose name he couldn’t recall though.
      Her face was beautiful but he hadn’t felt any sexual attraction toward her… it was different, like he knew her.
      Well, with his memory loss, he possibly knew her, someone close assuredly.
      She was asking questions about this land he had beached on… and in the dream it appeared he knew many details, again that he couldn’t recall now he was awake.
      It was more like a legend, not facts.
      But now it was quite real to him.
      It’s been 2 days since he opened his eyes on this purple beach, and he’s been busy collecting driftwood to make a fire. He didn’t dare venture into the forest, and if the legends about the inhabitants of Kandulim were true, he wasn’t welcome here.

      Wow he was feeling dizzy. His head was pounding repeatedly like one of the vangor drums. He dropped the twigs he had collected on the sand and took his head in his hands. The pounding was so loud that he began crying.

      :yahoo_at_wits_end:

      A flash, a soft feminine face surrounded by a fiery red hair and blue liquid eyes. She was smiling at him.
      The pounding ceased at once, and he just had the time to see a movement in the forest. All was still now. His mind would suggest it was a hallucination fostered by that head ache… if his thoughts weren’t so scattered.

      Who was in that vision? Who was in the forest?
      Was it the woman in his dream?

      He began to recall the strange vision he had before awakening on this beach.

      #594
      ÉricÉric
      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.

        #1862
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          The nurse kept calling Judyettes new grandson Jared! :yahoo_surprise:

          #249
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            Fiona was feeling a bit weird.

            She was wondering what was real. Was she real? Wow I am starting to sound like Dory she said and then laughed

            Oh my goodness and now I am laughing out loud and talking to myself. Jarrod does that and they put him on medication for it.

            And were her online friends real? I mean what evidence did she have. There were these pebbles of course Yarn said he was sending, but where were they?

            The other day she had been talking to her friends via the internet, and she found herself telling this ridiculous bird story, which basically boiled down to “I saw a bird and a cracked egg shell”

            AHAHAHAHAHA

            Ooops better stop laughing out loud so much. But at the time of seeing the bird it had felt really significant, as though something of importance was being communicated to her.

            And the online story they had all been writing — well was it all of them, or was it really just her writing it? — whatever, it was getting weirder and weirder and quite rude at times too actually. Or was it??? Was that her imagination again?

            And lately she kept winking. Good grief, I never wink, what is all that about? What the does a wink mean anyway?

            Fiona patted her dog George. He was so funny and uncomplicated. All he wanted to do was eat and play and have as much fun as possible… so cool. Actually that is all I want really too, she decided, and felt much better.

            #234
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Becky noticed the round jars of coloured sand on the shelf as she went to look for some chocolate. She hadn’t known why at the time, but she’d followed the impulse to bring a little sand home with her from special places, usually scooped up quickly and a bit furtively in the clear plastic wrapper of a cigarette packet. They were all lined up in little round jars from a disused yogurt making machine in front of her unused cookbooks on the kitchen shelf.

              #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

              #212
              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                Fiona wandered slowly along the road to the supermarket in the Village, deep in thought, pondering a recent dream. In her dream she had been talking to someone from the power company. He was very chatty. Eventually he asked her if she had any issues with her power service. In her dream she had started to focus on some electricity issues she was experiencing. Well as a matter of fact I do, she had replied. At which point the man from the power company had abruptly cut the call short.

                In her dream she felt a little put out, although resolved to let the power company know later.

                The message of the dream felt clear enough, it was her focusing on the difficulties which cut her connection. Yet this presented Fiona with some difficulty, because she dearly loved to analyse even when this did mean focusing on not so pleasant things, though she had been aware for some time how this mental work would deplete her energy.

                Actually there was almost a feeling of grieving in her. To let go of this part of her felt like losing something warm and comforting in it’s familiarity, like a well worn and loved article of clothing. It left her wondering a bit about her own identity.

                On the way back home, laden with bags of shopping, Fiona saw Jarrod.

                Jarrod was lying on a park bench conversing loudly to himself. Well, Fiona mentally corrected herself, to someone I can’t see anyway.

                They just don’t understand reality he was saying vehemently they just don’t get it.

                Fiona smiled to herself, noticing Jarrod getting a few concerned looks from the well dressed locals. With his bare feet, unkempt hair and long beard he would stand out even if he wasn’t shouting at the top of his voice. She decided to try and sneak past herself, he looked like maybe today he would not recognise her anyway.

                FIONA!

                She turned back.

                Hey Jarrod

                Fiona, here’s the thing. Here’s the question okay. Should we swim up-stream or down? Fiona what do you think? Should we head for the Source or the Ocean? Up river or down? We’re on the edge of a new era Fiona. So what will it be, the shallows or the rapids?

                Before she needed to come up with an answer Jarrod’s attention was diverted by the shopping bags.

                FOOD! Great is that for me Fiona?

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