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  • #3402
    Jib
    Participant

      Around 3:37pm, the three queens heard a loud noise coming from the street that lasted for about five seconds.
      “What was that ?” asked Terry.
      “It sounded like a fucking coughing ass”, said Consuela.
      “It sounded more like someone grinding the pavement with sandpaper”, said Maurana.
      Her two friends looked at her with an air of wtf.
      “You remember my Uncle Bog, the sculptor ?” she continued. “He used to spend hours polishing granite with sandpaper. My father said he was just too lazy to get the job done. Well, it sounded a bit like that. Except louder.”

      Terry ran to the door and looked outside. She wanted to be the first to know.
      “Oh My God! It’s her”, she said, her voice shaking. “She drives a Harley, and I think she just braked with her platform shoes. They’re still smoking.”
      She turned and looked at them wide-eyed.
      “She’s a dwarf queen.”

      #3400

      If the sabulmantium was to be trusted, the beanstalk was a tangle of many paths, and the main and easiest accesses down its dangling twirly greenish tentacles were all outside of the city walls, in a zone where some lords managed to rule pockets of mass beliefs and a bunch of unattractive mongrel mobsters.

      “Sounds potential adventure material” Mandrake had had the nerve to say when they’d packed.
      “No it isn’t” Arona had said.
      Then with more gusto “NO IT ISN’T” as though to convince all the sleepy tarts of the nymphouse below her rented room.

      More doubts had sunken their claws in her tender heart, and a gulp of whatever astral cup didn’t seem in hindsight a worthy deal for all her troubles. Nonetheless, she was a woman of her word, which was probably why she wasn’t of many. Too much trouble being of all of them, whatever that meant.

      “Honestly Mandrake, keeping you on track is worse than herding… dragons.”
      She would have said sheep, but she wasn’t so rude yet. Mandrake could have taken that too badly, and he would again prove useful to distract the guards of the Southern Post. That’s where she decided to go, as with all the heat, it had to be the one less guarded.

      Indeed, when she arrived, as planned, the gate was badly manned, and sleepy soldiers where reaching for the rare spots of shadow.
      She decided to make a run for it. The soldiers didn’t look very fit. She started to go, thinking about zigzagging between the air bottles littering the plaza, when she felt a tug pulling her back by the cloak, almost sending her flying off her butt.

      FUCK!” she shouted as silently as she could. “You again! I thought I told you not to follow me! Mandrake, attack! Go for the balls!”

      She was in a fury, but Mandrake licked his paw with a disgusted look on his face that meant “Hnhn, not going for that, sweetie. You’re on you own to herd that dragon, my lovely pooh.”

      “Shhht!” the guy said with a bit smile.
      “Don’t shush me, you… ninnyhammer!”
      She didn’t know where the last word came from, but they sure felt good, although not quite rude enough.
      “Oh, the lady is a pirate who knows her insults.” he answered with his cocky smile.
      “Don’t mock me, you mooncalf”
      “You were trying to sneak out, were you?”
      “Why do you care, hobbledehoy?”
      “The guards have aircon chain-mail and armours, see, look at those bottles on their backs… How could you beat them running with your heavy cloak?”
      “Maybe Mr Snollygoster has a better suggestion?”
      “Of course I have, if you care to follow me, Ms Mumpsimus.”

      Arona was almost speechless. Not keen on following any stranger, she asked her guts, and they seemed to have a liking for the handsome fellow. It stirred old remembrance of going with the flow tactics, and when she did actually follow him, it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he and Mandrake were already ahead in one of the alleys.

      “Oh, no, let him have the keys to some secret tunnel, I won’t go for another sewer escape!”
      As if her guardien angel has heard her secret prayer, it happened that the stranger had some strange stone key in his bag, opening a secret wall entrance.

      “Oh.” was all she conceded to the stranger.
      Nonplussed he offered her his hand “George” he presented himself still with the same broad smile.
      She took his hand haughtily, and entered the vaulted tunnel, not telling him yet her name, in case she felt like choosing a sexy and mysterious code name. She could trust no one…

      “Traitor” she hissed at Mandrake who was purringly looking at the strangers’ boots.

      #3399

      About a week ago, in the reserved section of the Storehouse of Exoteric Artefacts of Karmalott, Obax Winken was pondering in silence for the last hours over the nature of one of them.

      Any artefacts found down there, in the Fog Abyss, was tightly controlled by the P’hope. Nobody wanted an alien object to unbalance the delicate structure of mass beliefs by prematurely introducing abrupt changes coming from visitors, stranded travellers of other times and realities.
      Obax, as an erudite versed in interpreting the meaning of these objects, was entrusted with the classification and gauging of the danger that those objects could cause to the belief construct.
      If an object was deemed troublesome, it would be tentatively destroyed, or if that failed, stored in the forbidden section. But in most cases, objects left by travellers would disintegrate if just a thought projection, and those objects that came with them usually didn’t pose much threat.

      The one he was looking at looked like a strange mask, designed to be blown. He believed it was a cursed horn and couldn’t decide if it was in the interest of science to shelf it with its cursed energy, or remove the curse and release it to the masses for them to enjoy a swimming revolution…

      “Lucius!” he called to his assistant. He was a bit deaf in one ear. LOGSBOTTOM! he called again.
      “How would you call that strange trunk-like apparatus?”

      #3398
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        ““It’s going to rain” is an anagram!” Lucius announced, although nobody was listening. The others were all in various stages of taking their clothes off, although Lucius wasn’t sure why.
        “It’s an anagram for Start Bog Snorkeling” he revealed proudly, looking around for approval. Nobody noticed.

        #3394

        King Artie had decided he would be George. That would be his adventurer’s identity, his nom de plume (if he ever gets out of his adventure alive and manages to write novels out of it, that is).

        He’d packed in a hurry, taking advantage of the guards’ shift at midday to disappear from the castle unnoticed.
        The bag full of his stone collection was getting heavy under the sun, and the exertion took his toll and dulled his usually quick reflexes so that he was taken by surprise when the girl grabbed him. A strong woman… Now he was smitten.

        He’d noticed her leaving under the most peculiar of cloaks, taking her at first for a male adventurer —he had assumed being followed by a stray cat meant it was a fish-smelly adventurer too. Her gait sure wasn’t very feminine, but her face was pretty; even prettier when she looked angry was something he would have loved to tell her if she’d given him the chance.

        He chose to ignore her last remark and continue to discreetly follow her. She knew her way around, and seemed headed out of town. At least she was a better bet than being under the thumb of the P’hope’s minions.

        #3393

        Arona knew she was being followed even before Mandrake started to psst her about the dark haired cloaked stranger.

        She took a quick turn right (less perilous than left), and quickly grabbed the stranger by the throat when he came through, readying herself to punch him in the throat in a snazzy move she’d learnt from an old racoon-fu master.

        “Who are you, why are you following me, creep?” She felt a rush of rudeness washing over her in a delicious arousing way.
        The stranger had a cocky smile and a nicely trimmed pointy beard, and a set of gorgeous eyes of different colours. The right one was blue, and the left one green. His face had a golden tan, and she could feel his body was strong and lean.
        Get a grip, Arona she exhorted herself mentally, sending the telepathic equivalent of a cold glare at Mandrake’s soft tittering.

        “Well, you looked like one in search of an adventure, and I want one too. I need a guide from out of the city walls.”
        “What about a magus, that would be an obvious choice, and a sure one?” she retorted, smelling something not entirely honest from him.
        “I don’t trust the magi… And I don’t want people to….”

        “Don’t care” she interrupted rudely, leaving him hanging there, quite sure he was not here to rob her of her bises. The rest wasn’t her concern, she was on a mission.

        “Just don’t follow me, or you’ll regret it.” she said before hurrying Mandrake in the sunny alleys leading to the walls of the city.

        #3385

        The team of Magi from Karmalott wandered around aimlessly while waiting for the shower to start. Most of them were watching the sky, but one of them, Philichenko Potsummer the Third, was studying the ground in the vicinity of a malachite and rose quartz sundial. The sundial had a blue ribbon hanging from it, but Potsummer wasn’t interested in the ribbon.
        “Sanso was here,” he announced, which got the other magi’s attention. “Sanso was here recently, and it looks like he was flattened by an elephant.”
        “There aren’t any elephants on the island, though” a young trainee magi in purple pointed out.
        Potsummer sighed and rolled his eyes.
        “Logsbottom, “ Potsummer said to the trainee, “ Sanso left a message imprinted in the energy of the sundial, perhaps you would be so good as to retrieve the message and decipher it for us.”

        Lucius Logsbottom gulped, and nervously approached the crystal sundial, hoping that he would be able to read the message and translate it to the other magi’s satisfaction, but suddenly the shower started, and everyone turned their faces to the sky.

        #3382

        The three travelers were not the kind of people to limit themselves to safety and comfort ~ indeed if they had been, Lisa would have stayed in the village, never having met Fanella who would have stayed in Versailles, who never would have met Ivan who would have stayed in Russia. They all had an underlying courage and sense of adventure to be on the island at all. They were not, however, inherently stupid. As they approached the great walls of Gazalbion, they became uneasy. It looked more like a vast open air prison than a welcoming city.
        “I’m not sure about this” Lisa whispered to the others, “Once we’re inside there, how will we get out? It might be a trap.”
        “But you’re always saying we create our own reality Lisa, how can anyone else trap us?”
        asked Fanella.
        “We create being trapped as a reflection of restricting ourselves, that’s how it works. It’s not always black and white. And it’s not always easy to resolve that in a demanding and unsettling situation. It would behoove us to proceed with caution.”
        “That doesn’t sound right Lisa, that doesn’t sound like trust, and you’re always telling us that trust is the key.”
        “And space” added Ivan, “Space is a key, too.”
        “Yeah but what does that mean exactly anyway?”
        “Fucked if I know” replied Ivan.

        Lazuli Galore noticed the hesitation of the travelers, and decided to change tactics. They were only a few hundred meters from the entrance to Gazalbion, and it was starting to look as if the new arrivals would not enter willingly. He dispensed with the elephant form, exploding it into a pack of grey wolves which circled behind the travelers, and chased them into the city.

        “Olution! Olution!” the crowd chanted, for there was always a crowd gathered at the gate to witness new arrivals. “Olution! Olution!”
        Nobody actually knew what the word Olution meant, but they had seen it on tv so many times that they simply repeated it, and the more people that repeated it, the more the frenzy grew.
        “Olution! Olution!” the crowd screamed and Lisa, Fanella and Ivan were surrounded by the people, thousands of them, all covered in colourless grey cement dust, even their hair and faces were a ghastly dusty grey.
        “Now we’re in trouble,” Lisa remarked grimly.

        #3381

        Lazuli Galore looked back over his shoulder to make sure that the three travelers were following him. He retained his shapeshifted elephant form for the time being for high visibility purposes in the fog, and so as not to confuse the new arrivals with a sudden change of appearance. The first thing was to gain their trust and ensure that they followed him. His job was to monitor new arrivals and escort them inside the walled city of Gazalbion before they could start any more settlements in the free zone. The problem of new arrivals had escalated post 2014 as more and more people developed the art of teleporting, and the island to many was considered a promised land, a land of wine and cucumbers, attracting the world weary and the bored, the adventurous explorers, as well as the merely curious day trippers. Had they all been regular tourists of the old fashioned kind, who came for a determinate short stay and spent lavishly on the resident occupants provisions, it would not have been a problem, it would have been welcomed. But these people were staying, leaving only for brief trips back home to attend to their responsabilites there, and returning, bringing ever more people with them to settle in the free zone. They were arriving in droves, and it was of paramount importance to contain them, and shield the free zone from their incursions.

        Lazuli Galore was pleased to see that the three travelers were running to catch up with him. The other one would have been more trouble, and Lazuli knew he was right to despatch him to the elsespace arrangement with a perfectly executed parachute drop. It was the first time he had tried the novel approach of a parachuting elephant and was pleased with the result. It would not be long before that guy found his way out and came looking for his companions, but Gazalbion wasn’t far and Lazuli was confident that the three would be safely locked behind it’s walls before he reappeared.

        #3380

        “Follow the elephant before it disappears again” suggested Ivan to Lisa and Fanella who were visibly distraught at Sanso’s unexpected disappearance into the depths of the marshy field beneath their feet.
        “That elephant must be connected to some sort of human civilization, elephants don’t parachute on their own,” Ivan deduced, grateful that he had watched so many nature documentaries at the village, and that he could appear knowledgeable to the frightened women.
        “Shouldn’t we look for Sanso?” asked Fanella. “Does that strange letter provide any clues? Has he been pushed through a perforation into the honeycomb? Something to do with the underground faded pale people?”
        “If we find some of the local inhabitants, we can ask them for help. If we start wandering around here in this mist we will surely get lost, or even struck by another falling elephant.”
        “Are we assuming the natives are friendly?” asked Lisa nervously.
        “Yes, at this point, we are” replied Ivan. “Until we find proof indicating otherwise. And we must assume that Sanso can look after himself, and that he will join us later.”
        “The elephant did look friendly” added Fanella. “Look, he keeps looking back to see if we’re following him. Come on!”

        #3379
        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          At first, Sadie did not realise she was invisible.

          It was only when she looked in the bathroom mirror she realised something was missing, and even then it took a moment to register. Thinking about it later, it seemed strange to her that something as monumental as being invisible could have gone unnoticed for at least 5 minutes. Yet she had risen that morning with her usual feeling of happiness that everything was right with the world—it was a feeling she had worked hard to cultivate after many hours of selective brainwashing and meditation practice at the Academy.

          After the initial shock, Sadie realised what must have happened. Before bed the evening before, she had finally plucked up courage to do the set of exercises given to her by the Techromancer in 2222. He said it would assist her in her attempts to leave her body and explore other dimensions. Clearly, something had gone very askew.

          ”Right then”, said Sadie, trying to remain calm and rather relieved she could still hear her voice, ”I am going to have to message Linda Pol and explain the situation. I will request to be returned to 2222 so that I can have another chat with that Techno weirdo.”

          ………………………………………….

          Linda Pol was delighted to get Sadie’s timely message on her e-zapper. But she had no intention of returning her to 2222.

          Not just yet, anyway.

          #3378

          Elephants are not used to jump out of planes with a parachute in our reality. So when Lisa noticed a growing shadow around them. She raised her head and it took some time for her to make sense of what she was looking at. The huge grey butt of an elephant approaching relatively fast, desperately eager to establish contact.

          It landed on Sanso who knocked by the shock fall into the bog. Now; there are certain chemicals in the bog that induce the hibernation process in a physical body. Sanso reacted to it quickly, blinked out of the island and found himself in a stasis between worlds.

          “Sorry”, seemed to say the elephant with the cry elephants usually do. Then, it disappeared.

          The three lone travelers looked at each other, feeling deeply lost.

          :fleuron:

          Jube the Brave was having fun, playing his mass belief organ like a jazz musician.

          #3377

          “What does it say, Sanso?”
          The four travelers had arrived on the island in patchy swirling fog in a field full of cucumber plants and sundials. The sundial nearest to Sanso had a letter tied to the handle with blue ribbon.
          “If that’s not for me, I don’t know what is,” he snorted, untying the letter as Lisa looked at him in amazement.
          “Really, Sanso, that seems so implausible,” she said.
          “What does it say?”

          bq(Quote).“And we start to hope that if we keep on digging,” Sanso read, “All the way to the core, if we don’t stop, if we perforate the land like a honeycomb, if we make it as flimsy as silk, maybe it will suddenly collapse in on itself. And then, like a tray piled with cups of coffee and cookies that crashes to the floor in a mess of crumbs and glass, it will all mix together.

          The upper part and the lower part will blend. And the rules will change. And we’ll be able to say with a sigh of relief: Here is a piece of sky mixed with a cracked piece of sea; here is Shujaiyeh mixed with Sderot; here is Zeitoun mixed with the Mount of Olives; here is compassion mixed with relief; here is one human being mixed with another. above, and with them build a new land.”

          “Oh my,” said Fanella, “Are you sure we’ve come to the right place?”

          “And an entire people will rise to the surface of the earth,” Sanso continued, “ Pale and faded, blinded by the sun that beats down on the land. And we will stand in silence, waiting for our eyes to adjust to the light. And as we stand there in silence, the fear and anxiety will gradually creep into our heart, that while we were finding refuge in subterranean Gaza, the land above took its own life, was left behind and emptied out.”

          “Gorden Bennet,” said Lisa.

          #3376

          Much to everyone’s surprise, Boris called an extraordinary meeting for all the villagers. When Adeline had approached him with a proposition that was troubling her, in his infinite wisdom and practicality, he decided that absolute clarity and open discussion was the only solution. The topic of discussion was the trip to the island with Sanso ~ who wanted to go, and who was willing to stay behind to attend to the animals and the gardens and so on. After several hours of talking and the inevitable sidetracking and joking, interruptions to replenish drinks, fetch snacks or cigarettes, or visit the bathroom, it became apparent that everyone wanted to go, some more enthusiastically than others.

          “I have had a spontaneous inspiration to go,” said Lisa, “And I am a big believer is spontaneity. But I am also a big believer in responsibility, and can’t be spontaneous and responsible at the same time ~ unless I can offload the responsibility onto another responsible individual for the duration of my spontaneous holiday.”
          “So what you’re saying then is that if I don’t stay home to feed the dogs, then I am denying you your right to be spontaneous?” asked Jack.
          Lisa frowned. “If you had just offered to do it, Jack, I could have credited myself with simply trusting it to fall into place. Now you are making me complicate it!”

          “I have an idea” suggested Etienne, “That might work for everyone. Let us consider that we need allow no time for travel, as teleport travel is instantaneous, and we need not concern ourselves with money, as timetravel is without financial cost. We can all go, as long as we do it in relays. Unlike traditional holidays, where people save up their money, make arrangements regarding leaving their responsibilities, take time to reach a destination, stay at that destination for a certain time period, and then return, we do not need to concern ourselves with any of that. I suggest we split up into two smaller groups and alternate being present on the island, with our presence here in the village.”
          “Now who’s complicating it!” remarked Lisa.
          “I think it’s a good idea” Adeline piped up, to a general murmur of agreement.

          “If I may say a word” Sanso stood up and looked at each of their faces in turn. “I must be making a move tonight. And all I need to know is who will be coming with me. Fanella and Lisa?” They nodded in agreement. “And which of you intrepid fellows will join us? Ivan?” Unused to being noticed, Ivan nodded and blushed. “Good! Then Mirabelle, Igor, Boris and Adeline can be team two. Jack, Etienne and Pierre, you can be on emergency stand by to assist where needed in either location.”
          “Does everyone know how to teleport?” asked Mirabelle. “ I mean properly teleport, to the right place at the right time?”
          Sanso laughed. “Well, we are about to find out.”

          #3374
          Jib
          Participant

            Amber Graystone was dead. Killed by a bunch of masked men. Linda Pol would be dead also if it weren’t for Mr Graystone, whatever his firstname was. That man knows how to use his gun, she thought. Too bad he was caught by surprise. He managed to kill the three men before they could hurt anybody, but it seemed they had gotten to their main target anyway.

            “They tried a car incident, poison. I thought I could protect her”, the man was holding his wife, tears in his voice. She had been shot in the head. One clean wound meant to kill. Linda Pol didn’t want to state the obvious, they were professionals. A vibration in her purse signaled a message on her e-zapper.

            Sorry for the glitch. It seems the Chinese have found a way to cloak themselves from our surveillance. Retrieve the data from the husband. The Management
            The queen began to wonder if they were the network management after all. Why would a TV network have a surveillance system and warn them about the Chinese ? Why would they send her meet a random scientist in Hawai’i ?

            While Mr Graystone was grieving his wife, Linda Pol took the liberty to remove the masks of the dead squad. The Chinese indeed. Nothing that could be useful, they all looked the same for her.

            She received another message.
            Move quick. Others are coming. The Management

            “You know”, she said aloud, “I think we should move.”
            “I can’t leave my wife here.”
            “I know, sweetie. But I think she’s already gone. And I fear those men are not be the only ones after your wife’s secret. Do you have any idea how we can get out discretly ?”

            A buzz from her e-zapper told her she just got her answer.

            #3372
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              More on the mysterious island of Abalone and the city of Karmalott

              (initial background)

              We find out that the island named Abalone has some unaware people trapped in isolated pockets of their own dreamlike experiences (that usually loop onto themselves for people not trained in being conscious enough to actually remember their dreams). The Surge Team girl hunting giant mosquitoes is one such case.
              Hopefully, Irina seems to manage to get a more stable and peaceful experience, while somehow being tied to the bog-like area where she extracted the teen girl she calls Greenie (whom we find out later more about).

              The island was claimed by the Chinese across time, but they were never successful, as the nature of the island seems to have broken all their attempts. Nevertheless, Cheung Lok, who was hunting down Irina to retrieve her robot is sent on a doomed mission there, by being parachuted off a plane above its current believed location.

              We find out there is a large City built above the clouds, named Karmalott by the locals, possibly on top of a large beanstalk which can be perceived only by those knowing and believing in it (and possibly able to bypass some counter-charms placed by the magi and the protection of the Sentries (who can create creatures of nightmares for the purpose of protection from unwanted ill-believing souls).

              The main area of the Island is called by people from Karmalott, the Fog Abyss, or the Pit of Lost Souls. It seems certain rites of passage involve young people and would-be knights going to and back the Fog Abyss, usually protected by Magi for safety purpose (avoiding them to get trapped for all eternity if they are not able to break the fog of their own creations or get enlightened).
              It seems Greenie (or Gwinie, being her real name) was purposely left in the bog for yet undetermined purposes.

              In Karmalott, we find out the Order of the Magi, ruled by the P’hope who are in charge of resting and balancing the mass beliefs so that the City can thrive.
              The City is ruled by the King, who has military power over the Sentries, led by the General Parsifal. He is assisted by the Chamberlain Downson, a strange figure who seem to know many secrets, such as the Saint Amber Graastral Stone Cup, which is purported to hold many powers, and bring illumination to the virtuous.

              Other layers of the organization are to be explored, such as the place of the feminine in the society.
              The rule of the King appears to be just and fair, although the reality is maybe less spotless. The motto of Karmalott is “Only in unity can we thrive” (or in broken Latin, sed in unum proficio), and it reflects in the democratic principle of public petition, where anyone can ask for rules and manifestations to be bent or adjusted.
              In reality, it seems most people have become used to a way of life without any strife or war, and petitions are rare.

              It is not known at this point if there are other areas on the island where significant people have managed to gather consistently enough to be able to create a mass-believed reality with the same level of development as Karmalott, but it seems unlikely, as the state of the island is monitored by the Sentries, and they would detect significant changes and clearing of the Fog, while the P’hope would surely detect any conflicting beliefs that would clash with the ones entrusted to him.

              (to be continued…)

              #3371

              Less than a month had passed since Arona had arrived at Karmalott, hoping for a nice vacation time. Apparently, it wasn’t that long before her reputation for lost causes and recovering lost precious item preceded her.

              With the kids all grown up, and her on and off relationship with Vicentius, she clearly wanted to get some focus back into her life, and she had to agree a quest would do her good. There was nothing like putting back to work all her finest skills she’d honed along many years of practice.

              “This mission is cra-zy” Mandrake objected.
              “Of course it is, that is why you want to come along.”
              “True enough, the heat isn’t doing any good, the mice are smaller and smaller and I’m growing fat and balding.”
              Arona laughed, Mandrake wasn’t near as bad as he said, but to be true, was getting greyer than he used to.

              “Any idea who…”
              “Shht” she urged, rolling her eyes in that subtle way that meant “telepathy only”.

              Any idea who might be after that girl. And who is she anyway?
              Some royalty maybe… We’ll surely find out when we get to her. Eyes on the bounty, Mandrake, eyes on the bounty.
              The cat sighed That castle is creepy, and I say that not in a nice way…
              Yep, this place is funny strange, haven’t quite figured out why, but something feels odd and off. Get people to believe stuff so you can get what you want for everyone seems nice at first, but it doesn’t look like everyone get what they want, even with their petition system. I’m pretty sure it’s rigged and controlled by the P’hope and his magi to protect their Order.
              And what about the King?
              Now the King, he doesn’t seem in control of anything, but he doesn’t look like just an unwilling puppet… He’s afraid of something.
              So, were do we start then?
              As always my dear Mandrake, as always she said mentally, showing the carefully wrapped sabulmantium.

              #3370

              She was stroking the black cat who was complained loudly at the unwanted massage, when the messenger arrived at her door.

              “The King’s Chamberlain would like a word… in private” was all the footman had said.

              “Doesn’t look a slight bit suspicious to you?” the cat told her, shaking and licking the human scent off its fur.
              “Of course it does, don’t come if you don’t want to.” She replied smugly, wrapping her cloak around her despite the sizzling sun and the humidity.

              She followed the messenger, wondering what required such discretion.

              “A weighty matter indeed,” Downson said to her when she arrived at the rendezvous point under a vaulted passageway at a point where the sounds were cancelled out and voices could share deepest secrets in all discretion. “The P’hope has spies in many places… And at least I know of him, so he is not even the most dangerous one, I fear…”

              She was not of many words. Seeing that, the Chamberlain’s continued.
              “There are forces at play that conspire against the King’s rule.”
              She couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.
              “I know what you think, people should be self-governed, but you can see it another way, people’s leaders are also the expression of their beliefs. But never mind the philosophy… You are uniquely talented for a rescue mission.”
              “What do you mean?”
              “You know have powerful allies… tools,… and dragons too, if the tales are true…”
              She tittered softly. The tales were true, all of it except about the dragons being powerful allies for some rescue quest. Dragons were lazy dreamers, or at least the ones she used to know. She replied with magnanimity “Let’s assume I’m the person you need for this mission… What is my compensation for it… And don’t serve me platitudes about the travel being all that matters. That grumpy cat needs to eat.”
              The cat suddenly turned his eyes into the cutest kitty eyes he could do. It would have melted the heart of the most stone-hearted villain in an instant.
              Well played, Mandrake she winked at the cat telepathically.

              “Well, word has it that you are on a quest to astral, and maybe I could help with that.”
              “Continue…”
              “I could arrange an interview with the Fisher Count. As an entrusted Guardian of the Saint Amber Graastral Stone Cup, he could grant you a drink from it.”
              “Tell me more about whomever I’m supposed to rescue?”

              At the sound of footsteps, he stopped, and pushed her towards a column out of sight.

              “Oh, it’s only a cat” the soldier said, continuing his round unaware of the two.

              As soon as the other had left, Downson resumed his talk in hurried tone and quicker sentences.
              “I have good reasons to believe a young girl with great desire to prove herself was sent many years ago to the Fog Abyss as a rite of passage, but she was tricked and left for dead there. The magi who were supposed to protect her only said they had lost her. But something else happened. Last night, one of them came to me full of guilt. He was visited in a dream by an apparition of the young girl and her guardian angel. Something horrible had happened, but she told him she forgave him and that she was alive and well. You need to bring her back to us, and be discrete about it. Somebody wanted her dead and buried, and will stop at nothing to complete the task if they find out she’s alive.”

              Before the Chamberlain left, he turned back and told her:
              “Better be quick to leave, I shall have all that you require prepared for you. And a word of advise… you can trust no one, Arona.”

              #3368

              “I’m rubbish at meditation!” Irina said, opening her eyes after her tenth session in a row.

              But she stopped surprised. What was Greenie doing here, smiling at her, with her hands pressed against one another, and a sleeping parrot in her lap?

              Something had happened, something different… Prayer or meditation seemed to be the only solution she could come up with. What was happening? She was again in a loop of sorts, but so close to a breakthrough…

              She looked at Greenie’s eyes, and started to remember… The flight above the clouds, the city…

              “Gwinie!” Irina’s eyes widened. “That’s your real name, isn’t it?”
              Bits of informations were passing by, like a dream about to slip out of reach, but she relaxed, and like gently untangling a ball of cotton wool, considered the delicate bits of feelings of the dreamlike meditation, yes, the flying, the clouds, the… beanstalk? Something else, more dangerous, shrouded… What had happened to the little girl?

              #3367

              Irina turned to little Greenie, who had so far only communicated in body langage, and little more than grunts.

              “Dearie,” she took the little face in her hand to look her in the eyes. There was slight resistance in the girl’s, but she was compliant enough that the feedback encouraged Irina to continue. “I believe, you know how to talk, this grunting telepathic business is getting tedious, and Mr R isn’t telepathic, you see…”
              “But Madam…” Mr R’s beginning to protest was quickly hushed by Irina.
              “You understand, don’t you?… Yes you do. Communicate with me, okay? You’ve been there longer than I am, and we probably can help each other.”

              Greenie’s eyes were showing clear signs of intelligence, and yet, there was some trauma still at the surface that she seemed to process, which made interaction tricky.

              Greenie pointed at the place were Irina had tried to meditate for the past hours.
              “Oh no, not again…” she sighed. She sat again cross-legged, but this time Greenie wasn’t finished.
              “What is? What are you trying to tell me?” Irina was confused. She hoped it was not about praying, but then realized that Greenie wanted to join.

              So they sat in front of each other, with Greenie’s small palms pressed to hers, and again started to meditate.
              “Mr R, some music of the angels, if you will”

              After a while, Mr R’s lulling music managed to appeased even the confused Huhu, and Irina started to feel a difference, as though she had broken out of her mind, and could connect to the teen girl in their light bodies.

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