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  • Bert remembered running away when he was a kid. He had run away often. But he never got very far. They always caught him and took him back. The foster homes might look a bit different on the outside, but to him they were all the same. So he just kept running. These memories flitted through his ... · ID #3543 (continued)
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  • #327

    The rain was pouring cabbages :weather-showers: for several days now, almost the whole week… Baul was fed up with that filthy weather of Cromash Tur. The capital of this 4th kingdom was quite nice and pleasurable, but it lacked sun and warmth… Baul had come to Nâabooli, the capital of Cromash, in order to settle an arrangement. Something quite particular that he couldn’t find in his own land of Erpet Mesh. He’d been travelling for weeks with his guards and servants when he arrived in the city and all that for some foo’kin rain! But something more important than brooding and pouting was on his mind.

    Tonight he was alone, no servant, no guard… he was wearing a black coat made of goat skin on his usual blue and yellow silk robe, he couldn’t wear anything else, his skin was too smooth and delicate. He was spending great amount of money to take care of his body, it was his own pride, and he considered himself as a very handsome and appealing male.

    The man he was about to meet wasn’t hiding, but oddly was acting in full sight. Nonetheless, Baul didn’t want to be seen with him, Baul was an ambassador of sort from Erpet and he couldn’t be seen entering in an Assassin’s house. In Cromash, the Assassins were quite a respectable and wealthy, but in Erpet they were outlaw… one of the numerous differences between the two kingdoms, one they would never agree upon. Baul found it quite useful though; many times he’d met Ar’Am Khra, one of the best of this profession.

    For this meeting, as always, Baul had chosen a tavern, the Landgurdy, called after one of the former 12 kingdoms. The 4 remaining ones were at war most of the times, they couldn’t maintain peace more than a few years at best, and Baul had found many ways of benefiting of this situation. Merchant, Ambassador, and much more. He was thriving with plotting :face-angel: :face-devil-grin: and it was quite useful to be one of the ambassadors of Erpet Mesh, offering him safety wherever he was going. It was one of the few respected rules that were common between the Warring Kingdoms.

    The Landgurdy was quite a crowded tavern, and the owner was a friend of his, though not really officially. There was that private room on the rear of the building, know only of a few chosen “friends”, so they could enter unnoticed by the usual customers and by would be spies. The rear door was seemingly leading into another building, and some arrangements had been made over the years.

    Baul knocked the code at the door, and a vasistas was open quickly and closed even more quickly. The door opened then and he entered in the darkness of the house. If anyone opened the door, he or she wasn’t there anymore, but Baul knew the place quite well as it wasn’t his first meeting with the Assassin.

    :fleuron:

    The Assassin was waiting in the small room, square shaped with only a wood table and one chair. No window. One dim lamp.
    He was sitting on the lone carved chair. His clients needn’t sit.
    They were mere beggers.
    The one that was coming now, was quite amusing.
    The first time he met him, Baul was quite young and inexperienced in his own skills. Though he was quite ambitious, Ar’Am Khra had to admit it.
    The usual reaction when seeing the Assassin’s pale complexion was shivers and disgust. He was used to it and it was a game that he had enhanced with a little bluish glowing dagger tattooed on his forehead.
    The dagger was the mark of his profession, though not so obviously exhibited by the others. Cowards.
    At that first meeting, Baul didn’t react the way his other clients did. And it was not influenced by his utmost concerns at that time. Beside his inexperience he was quite engrossed in what he had called his “mission”.
    Ar’Am Khra did not know of any mission, there were merely contracts.
    And he was doing what his clients were paying for.
    Accomplishing his contract even after the death of his clients.

    He was remembering of an amusing event.
    A client had hired him to end the life of another man, and the second man went a few days after to his office to beg him to kill the first man.
    The Assassin accepted the contract.
    A few days later he killed the second man.
    He executed the first one not long after that, thus respecting the second contract. :yahoo_skull:

    He never questioned the motives of his clients.
    It was not for him to judge or to understand. Though most of the time he did understand quite well.
    His main motivation was the payment and his own pride in expressing his skill with subtleties and newness.

    The door opened smoothly. Baul entered the room.

    :yahoo_alien:

    :fleuron:

    Yann and Quintin had an interesting chat during the afternoon. Yann had some new impressions about the map of Lord Wrick annotated by Quintin. Something about the Warring Kingdoms, triggered by a dream of an Assassin in one of them. It was frustrating not to be in the same room so Yann could show Quintin directly on the map, but with Internet there were some other options.

    The names of these lands were Ata’Meliu, Dam Adbor, Erpet Mesh and Cromash Tur. These 4 Kingdoms were rather scattered on the Lan’Ork part of the continent, pieces and bits everywhere, though Ata’Meliu was more in the center and the South of the Lan’Ork, Dam Adbor in the East and in the North, and Cromash Tur in the West and South West parts, Erpet was divided in 2 main areas, one located on the Northern land just before the Isthmus of Ghört’s Hammer, and a smaller one lost in the middle of Ata’Meliu.

    Yann only had the impression of 2 of the capitals, Naat Medin was the one of Erpet Mesh and Nâabooli of Cromash Tur.

    Quintin just sent him the map so he could draw some more comments and sketch the boundaries of the Warring Kingdoms. He didn’t know why, but he felt some movements were about to begin, some reconfigurations of the borders :world:

    #79
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      These are excerpts from Yuki’s diary, explaining some of the details of the experiment called — Malvina’s story —.

      Note: for the reader not familiar with all the names here is a quick reminder:

      • Araili > Yann, Írtak, Sam, Jacob …
      • Armelle > Fiona, Arona, Tina, Qixi …
      • Rafaela > Dory, Illi, Becky, Rodney …
      • Yuki > Quintin, Al, Janice …

      September 12 th, 2007

      Today, an experiment has been launched by Quintin. Time will tell if it will bear some fruit, but the idea sounds good.
      Having people join in a story telling, and see what happens, what are the “lessons” one can draw from this…

      Armelle, Rafaela and Araili are already on the starting-blocks, though Quintin is not quite aware yet.

      I can hear some thoughts: Let’s say for the moment that there are no rules. We will see what prompts the desire for having rules…

      September 13 th

      Some of the people familiar with Janice and her friends’ adventures have already joined in with much enthusiasm.
      This first comment seems very promising.

      Right now, it feels easy and fun.

      Quintin seems to think that everything is very straightforward.
      The magical world with the cave in one part, separated from the “real” world. (Two Worlds, and he thinks that will be enough to content Rafaela, ahaha, how presumptuous)
      The first he sees as a representation of what psychologists think of as “subconscious”, and the other being the conscious, physical part.

      But of course, he thinks he knows better than that. He calls the first one “subjective” rather than subconscious, because it’s a translation of subjects which unfold in many related objects in the “objective” or physical world.
      That’s a good point, though a bit distorted. It would be better to say Malvina’s World is a translation of the subjective, in the manner of a Heroic Dimension.
      But the thing is, that he missed the point in thinking one World is more “real” than the other.
      We’ll be having some fun soon…

      First remark… The second comment of the story has been interrupted abruptly in the middle of a sentence. That is interesting. We will urge Quintin to leave it as it is, despite his feeling of it being awkward.
      We will appeal to his imagination.
      It seems he has heard the suggestion.

      September 14 th

      For the most part, the story starts to get much involvement. Lots of energies are being projected into it, and with every adjunct, each participant’s perception stretches to accommodate the changes and smooth out the bumps in their own sense of continuity.

      But as I expected, some challenges seem to appear already.
      Is it raining or not in that world?
      The question seems simple, but it is very profound and Fiona seems to struggle a bit with it, as is Quintin. The question frame itself [“that World”] shows where the difficulty lies.

      He seems to avoid the discrepancy and pretend that he has not seen it. Mmmm, avoiding the obstacles… that will very soon come right back in front of you dear Quintin, for Dory is quite playful.
      At least Fiona has been challenging Dory for not paying attention… Armelle’s ineffable loving ruthlessness!
      How will it unfold?
      Rafaela seems to be delighting herself as though she’s preparing some mischief, but Dory struggles in the “back”…

      September 15 th

      Dory is indeed very playful and her imagination is unrestrained. I extend much appreciation to this focus of Rafaela, especially as Quintin has to stretch his imagination to make things “fit”.

      Quintin is still avoiding the issues that appear sporadically and prefers to stay focused on his own perception of the story… Careful Quintin :face-smile:

      Yann joins the fun —objectively, that is, for Araili has been present already since the very beginning.

      September 16 th

      Halcyons days…
      My dear friend Archie is answering some of Quintin and Yann’s questions.
      Something starts to dawn on Quintin. But his mind is on other matters.

      He understands that the energies of the writers are melding in writing the story, but he still tends to think that they blend completely.

      September 18 th

      Quintin has been drawing some of the characters of the story. It’s interesting.
      He had good insights, as Yann will tell him later that his clothes today were exactly the same as the colours he had drawn.

      Characters drawn:

      • Mavina, Leörmn the dragon and weaszchilla, Írtak, Huÿgens (and Fjutch), Arona and Illi (the gripshawk)
      • Malika, Quintin, Yann, Fiona and Dory

      Interestingly, Fiona resolves her issues in her cave.
      Dory too, but she did not need the cave to do this.

      September 21 st

      For Quintin, the story seems to lose all common sense, as some characters move from World to World. You could have expected that Quintin!
      And Dory pops in and out, in her mind, in her dream state, or in future timeline mixed with present or past one.
      Quintin will soon realize that he himself is doing this constantly, though he does not register it.

      But the worst thing for him is that there are bleedthroughs in between Worlds. The Reality Times newspaper was brilliant Rafaela, a perfect trigger for the beliefs that the Worlds are closed and impermeable to each other!

      Archie has been answering new questions about that story and this had been quite interesting for all of the participants.
      There is much for them to digest from the realization that each of them had been creating their own versions of the stories through their perceptions. And that they were each having their version of the story, drawing from each other’s input, like a conductor of an orchestra incorporating some instruments.

      Of course, some things still matter, and one of the point of the story is also to discover these.

      September 22 nd

      Quintin has been drawing new characters.

      Characters drawn:

      • Båd Al’Guz (Bådul), BelleDora, Buckberry the dragon, the twin dragon eggs, Archibald the parrot, Sanso the Wanderer
      • Illi Fergusson, another Illi that Quintin has tried to sneak in as a bait for Dory, with hints that she is disengaged (or “dead” in common vernacular) and merges with others of her focuses…
      • Jacqueline Bleomelen (Nanny Gibbon), Lord Wrick, his great grand children the twins Cuthbert and India Louise, Manfred, William P. Jobsworth the painter

      A new perception trick: Dory felt relieved upon seeing the moth feelers of BelleDora.
      She had at first thought they were whiskers, which was not Quintin’s intent…

      September 23 rd

      Quintin seems to have connected to a map drawn by Lord Wrick, when the old Lord has started to document his great grand children travels.

      Quintin had tried to put some annotations on this fragment, but he doesn’t yet completely understand that his perception of this World, though accurate, is only valid in this present moment, and may change at any time.

      Up to now, here are the names he could find:

      • North: the Icy Lands, and Dragon Cemeteries
      • Center: Goldfindely, homeland of Arona, connected to the Warring Kingdoms of Lan’ork by the Isthmus of Ghört’s Hammer. The Isthmus of the Dragon Head seems to lead to Malvina’s cave and hideout. Mount Elok’ram is pointed as the highest place of the World yet discovered. Three main rivers are drawn: in the ancient myths of the people of this land, they represent the three Daughters of Ghört, weavers of men’s destinies: Tibreÿa, Uleÿa, and Snimeÿa. Snimeÿa cuts the thread of life, which is shown as the river leads after many meanders to the Marshes of Doom.
      • Far East, North: the Land of Båd Al’Guz, Åsgurdy. A harsh mountainous land of islands and seas.
        Both parts of the World seem to ignore each other till now, as they are separated by the Great Rift, which in the past has deterred many intrepid navigators.
      • South: the Desert Lands. Illi’s birthplace, rarely explored by humans thus unaware of most of its marvels, gripshawks nomadic tribes included.

      When he discussed Arona’s village with Fiona, Quintin had the vision of some dolphin-like creatures, but bright yellow. They are called golfindels and are mostly seen on the northern shores of Arona’s homeland, which is thus called Golfindely.

      #273

      On the shores of Golfindely, a young boy was playing in the carmine fields of ripe Scotch bonnets.

      Since the captain Bone had left, Tomkin Sharple was feeling a bit sad.

      The old captain always had fascinating stories to tell him, and he would indulge the endlessly curious little boy in telling him for hours all about what he had discovered in all the parts of the Worlds he had been traveling to.

      Now, all he had to do was to take care of the herd of grakes of his parents, and while they were eating the weeds of the crops, he would sat on the cliff, looking at the sea, glimmering in the sunlight.

      Grakes were funny to play with, as they were big birds, with a slender neck as geese, colourful patterns as mandarin ducks, and Tomkin always had fun jumping on the back of the alpha one, and ride it, leading the whole herd to the crops where they helped the farmers by eating all kinds of nuisances.

      But after Captain Bone’s departure, it was no longer fun.

      Tomkin was contemplating a strange thing that the captain had given him before he’d left. It was a sort of knot, shaped as a eight, and the captain had told him it was magic and meant that all was connected, but that he had to discover that magic for himself.

      Tomkin had asked the captain to tell him about this object, but all he had told him was a legend which did not reveal much about the circumstances in which the old sea dog had acquired it. Perhaps the captain had fooled him about the magic…

      Stuffing the thing again in his pocket, Tomkin let his mind wander on the sea waves, dreaming of being a cabin boy on a big boat, when he saw something on the horizon.

      At first he thought that it was a group of swimming golfindels, but golfindels were more brilliant and smaller than the shapes he was seeing, and moving less heavily too…

      #261

      In searching for a sheet of paper to do some sketches of images going through his mind, Bill found an old poem he had started a long time ago, when he was feeling like he was completely transforming himself. He had not finished the poem, but had kept it all along…

      It said:

      I’ve been wandering through the valleys of death
      Where time knows no ending and all is gray
      And shadows seek nothing but oblivion itself
      In mazes of mist, minds’ errands led astray…

      Perhaps it was time to let go of useless things, Bill thought to himself.

      He watched the paper slowly smoldering and shrinking and falling to black and white cinders into the hearth.

      :fleuron:

      Before going to sleep that night, Quintin had the sensation of Janice’s presence. He was surprised, because she was no longer the little girl he had seen at times, but she was a very pretty young woman, with dark wavy hair.

      She had giggled at his surprise, telling him that yes, she was catching up with him…

      :fleuron:

      The City, year 2255 (%)

      Today was Janice’s birthday, but not her birthday as the Ancients, two and half a century from her time, would have counted it. It was counted from the time of the conception, as the future parents in this time were fully aware of the agreements they would have with the soul they would decide to give birth to.

      It was a reminder of this agreement between the parents and the child that was celebrated, and not the actual birth date.

      Janice had felt Cyprus’ presence quite strongly, and she decided to let herself open to the subjective communication. She was conversing with her friend Qixi, and sent her some energy to let her know she would probably remove her attention for a few moments, knowing she would be accepting.

      When she closed her eyes, she could immediately feel herself engulfed by the strong yet smooth energy of Cyprus; it was like being kissed by a swarm of blue sparkling butterflies.

      Then she opened her eyes.

      She was in an ancient classroom, with Cyprus focused as a teacher figure. Cyprus was seated behind her desk and came at once to great Janice.

      — Good morning!
      — Good morning Cyprus, you wanted to say something to me?
      — In actuality, you wanted me to tell you something, answered Cyprus with a mysterious smile.
      — Yes, I thought so. Is it about what I am choosing to do as an activity?
      — Correct.
      — You are aware that I want to be creating of worlds, and give them to people that would have commissioned them…
      — Yes, I am aware. And you wanted me to highlight some misconceptions about that.
      — Oh, misconceptions?
      — Yes. As you know, with these worlds that you create, you have infinite potential of explorations. You also know that they are not independent from the rest, even when you take great care of encapsulating them in an energy field. And as such, they are not cut-off from yourself, as soon as you deliver them.
      — It feels like a tremendous responsibility.
      — It is, and it is not. The responsibility is to yourself, as always. But, I wanted you to be aware that you hold some responsibility, to examine your own injections into these worlds that you create, so that you can be neutralizing what is not desired, and not merely hiding it deeper inside the world itself.
      — OK, I will do that…
      — Ahaha, there is another thing, my dear.
      — Oooh…
      — You also wanted me to make sure you understood what I meant.
      — Ahahaha, I see. Wiggling out won’t be as easy as I thought, Janice said with a smile. So, is it the reason for this classroom?
      — Nothing is hidden from you, as always.

      So Janice took a look at the sheet of paper on top of her own school desk.

      — I’ll be around if you need me, reassured Cyprus.
      — Thank you, said Janice

      The paper was like a spot test, with a few questions on it.

      :fleuron2:

      Study on a Few Contradictory Beliefs

      1. GUILT

      a. An old lord has lost contact with his son, because of harsh things said in the past.

      Write a short story about him realizing how guilt is not effective, and how past can be changed from the point of present by direct action.

      b. Detail the main beliefs you can see associated with this action of guilt.

      2. FEAR

      a. A man chooses to be disengaging by drowning in a river. During his transition, he faces his fears, helped in that by a friendly spirit. The fears take the forms of a forest of trees, all similar, with branches and malicious roots extending to him. In his previous life, the man thought he was a fool, as an excuse to stand out of the numb crowd. But now he faces this crowd again, only to be able to go on his journey and let go.

      Write a short paragraph about his journey. Place yourself from the perspective of both him and the friendly spirit guiding him through his fears, and see how he helps himself in realizing he does not need to push the fears away, and that they can disappear easily.

      b. Detail the beliefs associated with his madness, that he needs to let go of in order to be crossing the forest, and go to the Bridge of Daffoldils that leads to his cave of Self.

      DUPLICITY

      In association with the last two examples, detail how duplicity (belief in good versus bad) is influencing of each of the actions, and can be neutralised by accepting self and trusting that you shall not betray yourself.

      :fleuron:

      Janice gave her paper to Cyprus, who took it and held it for a moment, evaluating the answers.

      Cyprus then made it burst into a bluish dancing flame, and when the paper had disappeared, smiled at Janice lovingly.

      #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.

        #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.

        #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.

          #181

          As the voice was becoming louder, Írtak felt also the presence of Leörmn. He was feeling this liquid vibration that was his signal for the shapeshifting of the tunnels. He knew that Leörmn was aware of his presence and wouldn’t change the tunnel he was in, but he could possibly forget to leave him an exit.

          He felt the presence of Malvina reassuring, she was also supervising the progression of the girl. He knew it was not for him to intervene and help the girl, she was to find her own way. And if her choice was to find him she would, otherwise he had still to find that missing egg.

          Since he’d found Malvina and Leörmn he’d unraveled many of his own abilities. They were quite different from those of Malvina, nonetheless she told him that they were perfectly fitting his own exploration. He could feel the eggs and the only difficulty was to follow a path that would lead him to any lost egg before it was too cold.

          And for now, the egg was in another direction than the one from which the voice was coming. He just added his own encouragement and trust to the girl, and he continued his little quest.

          #171

          The life I lead is mere hours or less
          I serve all my time by being consumed
          I am quickest when thin, slowest when fat
          And wind is the bane of the gift that I bring

          Dragon, is that you?, Arona looked around, peering into the half light, but she could not see the crafty dragon, who had once again taken the form of a tiny weaszchilla. He had however retained his own voice, for a weaszchilla cannot be heard easily by human ears

          Why should you care, do you want to see my stupid dragon face now?

          I said silly, not stupid, and perhaps your face is not really so silly for a dragon, however your personality is certainly not that endearing, grumbled Arona

          It doesn’t bark
          It doesn’t bite
          But still won’t let you in the house

          Arona thought for a moment, a lock

          Well I suggest you turn your attention to it then, because it is the only way out now.

          Arona was alarmed, What do you mean?

          The dragon laughed and as Arona turned around again in search of him, she discovered to her horror that the tunnel she had just traversed had disappeared, and was now a wall.

          What’s the matter? Were you thinking of turning back? Leormn grinned to himself. He was enjoying this, but perhaps it was time to return to his other business and let the girl get on with her adventure.

          Oh well, perhaps just time for one more for riddle before I go, the dragon thought, he was having so much fun.

          The more that there is
          The less that you see
          Squint all you like
          When surrounded by me

          Oh that is too easy Dragon. The answer is darkness said Arona in a quiet voice.

          The dragon had to hand it to her, she wasn’t stupid.

          By the way, he called as he disappeared down a weaszchilla sized tunnel he had created for himself, aren’t you rather hot with that cape on?

          The life I lead is mere hours or less … oh he means the candle said Arona to herself, and pulling her cloak around her, turned to face the door.

          #158

          Illi set off at a brisk trot in search of the cave. A deafening clap of thunder made her flinch and lose her footing. She slipped, and slid down a steep slippery wet bank, tumbling and rolling out of control. Arrgghh! How embarrassing, she thought, I hope no-one is watching….OUCH! She banged her head on a strangely perfect long oblong stone, which catapulted her into the air and into a cork oak tree. Lordy! She clung onto the knobbly grey bark, trembling and gasping.

          Well, I may as well have a smoke and catch my breath, she thought, at least it’s fairly dry here in this tree. She inched upwards until she found a comfortable fork in the branches and leaned her back against the trunk, fishing in the pockets of her tartan jacket for her Camels and her lighter.

          Ahhhh….that’s better! Now, where are we? Illi felt more optimistic, and surveyed the terrain. AHA! In a little dip behind the tree was a dark hole in the ground. That will lead to a cave, I’m sure of it! Illi lit another smoke, musing that she might never have found the cave entrance had she not banged her head on the strange oblong stone, and hurtled into the tree.

          Feeling much more enthusiastic, Illi climbed down out of the tree and went to investigate the dark hole in the ground. HHmmmm…no sign of a rope, or steps, no light, she wondered what to do next. A voice boomed in her head TRUST! Trust is the key!

          Suddenly feeling very devil-may-care and adventurous, Illi dived into the hole head first… wwwwhhhheeeeeee HOOOOO…… the free-fall was exhilarating, exciting, wildly fun….and then a little voice of doubt crept in, Are you stark raving MAD?

          Whallop! Illi landed on something soft, something sodden and smelling a bit of mold. Momentarily stunned, she just lay there, in a heap on the soft wet lump.

          “Holy MOLY” the soft wet lump shouted “Get OFF me! How incredibly RUDE to land on me like that without so much as an introduction!”

          Illi trembled.

          #157
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            For a moment Arona panicked, then she stood completely still while the strange flying creatures settled back down, and tried to think.

            She knew what she had to do, she had to sense which tunnel felt the lightest and then follow that. A perfect test for her intuitive abilities she had been learning to follow.

            Look where they have got you so far, whispered a little voice in her head … or she thought it was from her own head … or was it ?…. everything felt so strange all of a sudden.

            So she looked at each tunnel in turn, and even looked back the way she had come (but to be honest, she loved an adventure and did not really want to turn back) and she felt the left tunnel beckoning her.

            Huh let us hope it is the one leading furtherest away from that dragon, she thought grumpily

            You don’t mean that came the little voice again.

            No, thought Arona, I don’t mean that really, even his silly dragon face would be better than this aloneness.

            She moved quietly forward, not wishing to disturb any more flying things, and entered the tunnel.

            #156
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Sanso stood at the entrance to the cave, looking out over the valley. He loved the rich orange-red rocky cliffs and towering stone pillars, and recognized them at once. He remembered this place! A vague nostalgia swept over him, he’d loved it here, hadn’t wanted to leave…… A song started playing in his head …… ‘we wept when we remembered Zion’… mmm mmm mmm mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm……… when we remembered Zion….

              What an extraordinary cave it was, Sanso thought, when he’d wiped his eyes and his nose on his indigo blue shawl. Every time I see a light at the end of one of the tunnels and follow it to the cave entrance, it leads me to another time and place.

              The rain started to fall, gently at first, and then the valley was filled with the strange pale green light of an approaching thunderstorm. Reluctantly, Sanso made his way back into the cave.

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