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  • #186
    F LoveF Love
    Participant

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

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

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

      Use your magic, she had said.

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

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

      :fleuron: :fleuron: :fleuron:

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

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

      No, thank YOU, replied the sleepy glukenitch.

      :fleuron: :fleuron: :fleuron:

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

      Why sad?

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

      You always know, just feel it

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

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

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

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

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

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

      Doesn’t the little girl feel left out?

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

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

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

      :fleuron: :fleuron: :fleuron:

      Arona returned to the cave.

      You look troubled

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

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

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

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

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

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

      Well I gave her the same advice, years ago.

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

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

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

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

      Dance Arona, she heard the woman’s voice

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

      It doesn’t matter

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

      :fleuron: :fleuron: :fleuron:

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

      Things are shifting she said

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

      Feel the answer

      Arona felt. I am very hungry, eggceptionally so.

      #184

      The transmugrification was about to start.

      Inspired by the improvised tune of Malvina, Leörmn had felt new arrangements coming for the cave.

      He had been checking out every living being in the cave, and wanted to make things less complicated for them, without startling them too much. For creatures, that was easy, he could communicate well with them, and they knew the changes would be temporary.

      But for humans, let alone gripshawks, that was more difficult as they could play deaf as pleased them.

      Hopefully, the gripshawk was in good hands outside the cave, and that was probably better for her, as she would probably have hurt herself more than was necessary in not listening to the exhortations to stay calm.

      As for the young adventuress, she was sleeping joyfully, and the little glukenitch that Leörmn had left to her side to keep watch and warn him in case she would be too distressed was silently watching over her.

      Írtak was aware that the process was about to begin, as he had been trained by Malvina to listen to the flimsiest changes in the cave, and how his body was responding to these subtle modifications. This one would probably become of great dragon rider, but for now he was young and needed to hone his abilities. His father had been renouncing of telling him what was best and most reasonable for him to do, and allowed him to spend much time in the cave. He was not really interested by these magical things, but he knew they were important for his son, and was encouraging, in his own manner.

      As for Malvina, she was unaffected in a way, because she was part of Leörmn as much as he was a part of her, and it was like they were moving hand in hand. These hiding and seeking the eggs were like a playful game between them, because their interests were different, but all in all, they were one, and trusted each other completely.

      The more troublesome was perhaps Sanso, the wanderer. This one seemed trapped in between Worlds. The caves at times also acted as portals between Worlds, and this one had been unknowingly crossing the Worlds, as the delimitations between imagination and reality were only in words, and did not really exist. Leörmn was hoping he would not appear in the midst of the ruckus.

      So, on one of the wooden decks near the apartments of Malvina, he sat, overlooking the glowing eggs, and bathing into the music.

      Closing his eyes, he felt every part of the cave as if it were an extension of his own body, which was in fact much bigger than this current appearance, so big in fact that it was the World itself. And every creature breathing in it was a very cherished part of his body, and he slowly breathed in and out.

      He envisioned a great light pouring from the volcanic insides of the cavern, which inundated the cave in a misty warmth. It was a loving light that neither glukenitches nor schpurniatz feared. And the sinuous insides of the caves expanded and straightened in huge corridors, and doors disappeared, and gorgeous paintings from the mind and craft of Malvina decorated the walls in rich colours.

      And near the platform, inside the hall, a huge table sprung from the floor, for the banquet that was to come.

      And a new egg was laid somewhere in the cave, glowing of an emerald tint.

      This “one” was a bit different though…

      #178
      F LoveF Love
      Participant

        Arona felt tiredness sweep over her.

        hmmm maybe I will rest a little before I continue my journey, and she lay down on the cloak and wondered what dreadful fate may befall her.

        All of a sudden she knew she was no longer alone in the dim light of the cave. An older woman was seated next to her. Someone who seemed strangely familiar to her.

        You called me,

        the woman said, and laughed gently

        I remember this cloak well,
        You get rid of it soon

        And she gently stroked Arona’s hair.

        Use your magic

        she whispered as Arona fell asleep

        #165

        Illi woke up and groaned. Her back was aching and she felt like she’d fallen down a hill, or plummeted into a hole. I thought sleep was supposed to be relaxing, she grumbled as she shuffled off to make coffee. Ten pairs of eyes followered her every movement, assessing her mood. Some of the eyes winked at the other eyes, and nodded…yes, let’s remind her, she’s useless at these clues, ok guys, everyone ready…steady…GO!

        Illi jolted unpleasantly and painfully as a dreadful cacophany of dog barking erupted around her, and warm squirming bodies tumbled everywhere.

        How can I possibly focus on SELF, you stupid creatures, when you keep barking like that! Illi sighed, she knew she was getting it backwards, but her whole world was topsy turvey, nothing was as it seemed anymore. Which comes first, the dragon, or the egg?

        dragon or the egg, hhmm, egg before the dragon? or the dragon before the egg….irritated because the dogs barked? or dogs barked because I was irritated? eggs, dragons, eggs, dragons, dogs, eggs dragons eggs…..

        Illi sighed, and made another cup of coffee.

        And then as if by magic an extraordinary thing happened….

        #163

        Hells Bells muttered Arona to herself , this had better not be some sort of a test that dragon is putting me through

        As she stepped forward into the darkness of the chosen path, she had a sudden sense she was walking off the edge of a cliff.

        Arona had been practising quietness for a long time. The journey had been lonely at times and offered her many opportunities to practise her skills. There were so many parts of her wanting to have a say, discuss, analyse her every move, so that she would become paralysed and unable to move at all. In desperation almost she had learned to still the voices and find that part of herself she most believed herself to be. The part which believed in the existence of magic.

        Well done, and shall you fly?

        Arona hesitated. It was that voice again. She was not sure if this new voice came from her own thoughts, but she felt not.

        Great, she thought, perfect time to finally lose it. Stuck in a dark cave with a troublesome dragon.

        Shrugging her shoulders she went still inside and moved her body forward.

        Leormn (with two little dots above the “o”) felt deeply humbled when he saw the extraordinary bravery of Arona.

        It was hard for the proud dragon to consider, but he did wonder if sometimes he went too far with his joking. After all for him the cave was a playground, clay he could mould at will, or at a whim. Perhaps one could even call it a work of art, he thought proudly.

        But he did realise that for the girl, who was newer to the ways of magic (although showed the most tremendous potential he grudgingly had to admit), he realised it represented something far deeper, a dual potential, the hope of light, but also the possibility of the deepest darkness.

        For a moment he even considered revealing his whereabouts.

        She is fine , Malvina answered his thoughts, she loves the challenge. It is what drew her here.

        #140
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Dory was floating. The warm waters of the lagoon rippled underneath her, relaxing and soothing. The sun was going down, and the sky was quilted with puffy pink clouds above her, the coconut trees black silhouettes against the blue-green horizon. Lazily, her gaze drifted towards the beach. The lemurs were dancing their magical dance amongst the trees. Balti chuckled behind her. Oh I forgot you were there Balti! He chuckled again. You wouldn’t relax, Dory, unless I promised to hold you, you thought you might drown. Dory had forgotten all about drowning.

          Let’s go to the dance, Balti, she said. The dance of the lemurs . We can float closer to the shore and then we may hear the music.

          #135
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            But Arona had more compelling matters to pursue. The music was calling. She pulled her cloak around tightly around herself, for she knew there was strong magic in these parts, and one could never be quite sure … yet she was learning to trust her inner knowing, and there was a lightness to be felt in the air.

            The music came from a cave in the hillside and she moved gently towards the entrance.

            #133

            where… the sound
            of my tears hits the ground
            Just like the rain
            Just like the rain…

            Just like the rain (Richard Hawley)

            Dory has felt like the singer lately, “walking a world of empty streets”, but this had been a fruitful time to gather much information on herself; and now, there was something new she felt was coming her way. Or perhaps it was the other way around, she was coming to it, but in fact, it couldn’t matter less.

            It had been, now she thought of it, it had been like a settling down of winter, so that the magic snow could appear, and be laid upon the barren lands, to provide a renewed enjoyment and vista on the landscape.

            And the drops of the rain created a playful symphony of waves on the surface of the pond she was looking at through the window, and she rejoiced with the goldfishes of what was to come now.

            #131

            Arona was lost. She had been lost for quite some time now and had got over the initial surprise this realisation had given her. It was not very often now that she questioned her decision to leave the others. She had tired of their endless journeying, always in circles, always moving and yet never seeming to move beyond the confines of the small village.

            One day she told them she was leaving. She wasn’t even sure if they heard her but still she set off, wearing her heavy black cape and carrying a small bag of her most treasured possessions.

            Arona had not been sure of the cape, it was so heavy, yet she feared the cold nights and loved the security of it’s warmth. It had been a gift from her parents, a long time ago, when she was just a child. Wear this cape and one day it will bring you happiness, her mother had said.

            Her mother said many odd things and had left on a journey of her own a many years ago, so Arona had never really been able to find out what she meant. Magically the cape had grown with her body, moulding itself to her.

            The worst of the winter cold was over now and Arona found the cape almost unbearably heavy at times, yet she could not quite bring herself to leave it behind. Sometimes she would take it off, relishing in the lightness and feeling the warmth of the sun on her body. She always put it back on though, just in case she needed it one day.

            Arona pulled out a well worn map from her bag. The map had been a gift from a travelling wizard who visited the village a few years ago. Arona had given him food and shelter and he repaid her kindness with the map. He seemed to think it was quite generous of him and Arona had thanked him politely. To be honest it was not really much use to her as she had no sense of direction, not even knowing which way north was, and not knowing where she was going anyway. She preferred just to follow whichever way seemed lightest at the time. But it was handy having the map because when she met others on the journey who asked her where she was going, she would wave her map at them. It made her look good, she thought, and saved her from too many questions.

            That day as she sat on a rock pretending to ponder her map she became aware of a faint sound of music in the distance. She had not heard music for such a long time. Once on her journey she had passed a wandering minstrel and begged him to play for her so that she could dance. In exchange she had lent him her cloak for a while to keep him warm.

            She felt the music beckoning her.

            :fleuron:

            Fiona loved Quintin’s drawings. They had a feel of magic and lightness and she was entranced by them. They were like the children’s films she had been watching lately, with many layers to them and touching something inside her mind, a distant memory which felt strangely close.

            Her own drawings felt heavy to her, and she had made a decision not to paint again unless she felt inspired. She did not really understand inspiration, only knew that she was tired of trying so hard.

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