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The mummy was having some difficulties to see through the bandages… and the dim light wasn’t helping either… the colors were weird too.. the quality of the air seemed different too… everything seemed different.

Who was she? Was she a she? She had difficulties to remember too.

Aspen F…?

George, it’s been such a pleasure to meet you, Dory said sincerely, But I think it’s time for me to go home now. My step-daughter Becky will be expecting me, and boy do I ever miss Dan.

George laughed pleasantly and said, But of course, I understand! Just be remembering, he added with a twinkle, That I am always available. And I have the ‘whole book’ in my carpet bag.

Haha! Dory laughed a trifle rudely. The forgetting chapter… why, she had already forgotten about that! Her mind was already on other things… Dan for instance……

Sanso emerged from the dark cave, squinting in the bright sunlight. He could hear a bit of a commotion going on, and while his eyes adjusted to the light, he heard a voice in his head reciting as if from a book:

« Lord Gustard Willoughby Fergusson helped his wife Floribunda onto the camel, and clamboured onto his own. Cranky and Illi were mounted on donkeys, as were Tibn Zig and Tanlil Ubt, their local guides. Three hot dusty days, and two bitterly cold nights away lay their destination: Tsnit n’Agger and the home of the legendary giant of the…… »

Sanso found himself looking into the eyes of a curious child, and presumed correctly that the child was Illi. Illi stared at the apparition in indigo blue robes, without mentioning him to the other members of her group. After some moments of wordless communication and understanding, they winked at each other.

Sanso, Illi now knew, would lead them to the giant bones.

Tina was so happy Becky had sorted her hair problems so creatively. She wondered if she should tell her she had missed a bit at the back of her head. Yes of course she must.

She also wondered if she should get changed before she met the others. Al had said he liked her new dress and then winked at her. What did that mean? Winks always made her a bit uneasy. They were so ambiguous.

Oh that’s right, she could configure it anyway she chose she remembered. So she spent a few happy minutes remembering how fantastic she looked, like a supermodel actually.

She would give the gift voucher to Sam for his birthday now Becky didn’t need it, she decided. No matter his birthday was months ago, she was always late with birthday gifts and preferred to do things on impluse. Not that Sam had any hair issues that she knew of, she just thought he would enjoy meeting Hari.

She thought how great life was. Really it was all just about having fun. She felt so much easier with the play they were writing too, no longer concerned she could not follow the plots, plots? what a funny word to use, of the others, content just to follow her own unique path.

Sam kissed Tina… a French kiss as usual. She had always love his way of kissing and as with the shift this kind mark of affection wasn’t much considered as belonging to bonded couples, Sam who loved kissing was really having a lot of fun.

He didn’t do that with everybody though, it had to come harmoniously, and with Tina it was always sparklingly funnily attractive.

She told him she loved the little pooh on his neck, and as he was explaining her it was a just burnt phoenix, the bird just rebirthed himself again in an atomic blow… the effects on Sam’s skin was a bit weird, flowing shadows and shades of greys and greens making him appear like a for a few seconds.

Sean arrived in a bang at that moment, and Sam kissed him on the forehead… no mischievous kiss with him, his energy was directed subtly to another member of the T’mmm.

Adding his own playful energy to this Fairy Nuffy event, he went to talk with Tina and Al about Tina’s new nails cut.

Tina had a wonderful night of dreams. In fact it was the first time in ages that her dreams had been happy. Usually in her dreams she did not feel any emotion much.

The phone rang. It was Becky, although for a moment she thought it was her friend Docky, their voices sounded so similar.

I am fine she told Becky, I am so sorry to hear Sam is sick, give him my love when you see him

Tina chuckled to herself, remembering how last time she was sick Becky had bought over this big pot of nettle soup for her…

Really though, she was so grateful for her friends. Al seemed a bit worried about her at the moment, but then he was such a worry wort, she thought fondly.

Lord Gustard Willoughby Fergusson helped his wife Floribunda onto the camel, and clamboured onto his own. Cranky and Illi were mounted on donkeys, as were Tibn Zig and Tanlil Ubt, their local guides. Three hot dusty days, and two bitterly cold nights away lay their destination: Tsnit n’Agger and the home of the legendary giant of the Alal’ Azntignit.

Cranky was feeling like a fish out of water in the desert, but Illi had taken to it like a duck to water. Not that there was alot of water about in the desert, Cranky grumbled to herself. What she wouldn’t have given for a nice hot cup of tea and a crumpet. She looked at Illi and her face softened. Just look at the delight in that dear childs eyes, she said to herself. My, but she’s a chip off the old block. Make herself at home anywhere, she would. Or make her home anywhere, Cranky thought, wistfully remembering their games of Wish House back at Rubbingdon.

Let’s just hope Lord Gus finds those bones quickly and we can all go home.

The rain was pouring cabbages 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 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.

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.

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.

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

Yann was wandering about in a pet shop, looking for nothing in particular.

Quintin had said something about inserting the shift now… well, that sucked… Yann was in a very bad mood, feeling like everyone was against him, nothing was going as he wanted to, and most of all he had lost inspiration. No desire to draw, or to write anything. His life was not fitting. Or so it seemed.

Looking closer to the bird cages, and the birds inside, he was amazed at their similarities and their differences. Their shapes and sizes, their colors was the obvious parts. Their shouting also, it was quite messy, and stridulent. But what he noticed most was their behavior, some were just living their own life, proud of themselves and quite fearful when Yann was getting closer to the cage, and others were just flocking together like they couldn’t live apart. Some were singing, some crying, some just quiet and moving nervously or randomly…

He went to the parrots room, it was written babies on the cages… they were like full sized parrots to him, very big birds!!! very colorful and impressive. But looking closer, they were not so healthy, their feathers were sort of dull, and even bad shaped and like the parrot had been attacked savagely :yahoo_thinking:. Not very impressive eventually.

A few days ago things had become quite erratic at his work… he had felt a strong desire to change, change everything. First he couldn’t understand that desire and he resisted strongly, but soon he created some uncomfortable manifestations. Breathing difficulties, headaches, itching, and even boredom. He just felt the desire to tell bugger off to everyone.

The birds were getting boring actually, he left the shop.

Walking in the street among the crowd was kinda soothing his uneasiness… though at times he was like feeling what they were strongly projecting. There was that Muslim woman with her chador, and as she went right past him he had that twinge of anger against her, coming from nowhere, and as soon as he noticed that, he just moved his attention to his energy and it was over, no more anger or polarization. Was it his own feelings or was it from that young woman?

Whatever, he just enter another shop, home shop, with little thingies and furniture… all these statues, the ones looking like 1920’s ladies were the most appealing… and there were these fairies also, wasn’t it Fiona who had told him about a dream where she was the fairy princess?

Oh! that pic… the man had a blue skin… with dolphins on his face creating shadows… the pic was a blend of sort, very funny, and the man was cute as was the shop assistant…

Time to leave… he went off the shop and continued walking. Bright sun, fresh air, all was clearing. His mood also. He thought again about what he and Quintin had been planning. It seemed something crazy, but it also seemed related to what was happening in his life. Since Vienna, their relation had become closer and closer, and for the most part it was very endearing, very fun and also very intense. All these energies, all this creativity, it had to be part of a bigger picture.

Thinking about that, his friend Dory had told him about a bigger picture once, and he was teasing her about that… but now it was making sense. His abilities to remember his dreams had increased in a way, though most of the time he did not remember his dream in the morning. He’d noticed he could if he was just relaxing a bit and let his attention go back to that dream self of his… At times he had also some weird experiences about parallel realities and shift of perception, like the room is translucent and he can move through it in another dimension, very freaky that one

Sean put the letter in his pocket. Perhaps a trip to the Amusement Park wasn’t such a bad idea. He always enjoyed Becky’s company, and he was curious about dear old Al. Becky’s postscript hadn’t made a great deal of sense, but then, Becky was a bit like that. The truth of it was, he needed a break.

Sean wondered if Tina would be there. He remembered their brief meeting, and how he’d been struck by her sweet voice. And Sam, dear funny Sam!

Sean put his hat on, and walked out into the clammy Irish drizzle. A pint of guinness in The Dunloughpadraisobahairiedunkennyloughaire Arms to celebrate, I think! He patted the letter in his pocket and smiled for the first time in months.

Let me show you something, Dory. George reached into a big red and orange and purple kilim carpet bag ( Dory wondered where it had appeared from; she certainly didn’t recall seeing there when they arrived) and pulled out a large sheaf of printed papers. He passed it to Dory.

Dory read on the first page:
Chapter 343,482,927,457,299,209,2819,298,357,008,557,057: ‘REMEMBERING’
Blimey, said Dory, Long book!

George grinned enigmatically and said, Indeed.

Dory flicked through the pages, reading a bit here and a bit there. Glancing up at George she said, I guess you couldn’t possibly carry the whole book round with you all the time in your carpet bag, the whole book must be enormous!

Oh, the whole book is always in my bag, he said.

Really? Dory asked in a disbelieving tone.

Why yes, of course. ‘It’s all in there somewhere’ he said, and laughed heartily, and a trifle rudely, Dory thought. Yes Dory, the whole book is always in there.

With a hmpf, Dory returned to scanning the pages. Before long she was overcome with waves of nostalgia and familiarity and deja vu, even a sort of backwards deja vu…a vuja de…Dory snickered to herself…

Why is this chapter called remembering, George? If I had written this chapter I’d have called it forgetting.

Chiara got quite a fright and spun round quickly. She stood gazing at the funny creature, a woman who had a sort of cattish feel, who had shouted BOUH at her, momentarily uncertain as to whether to burst into laughter or tears.

Illi watched Chiara’s trembling lip with some concern, especially when she saw the very large woman who was with her. Illi felt it may be prudent to make a hasty retreat, however, before she could make her getaway, a tiny figure emerged from behind a rather large pebble.

Hello, said a little pink fairy. I am the Fairy Princess of the Land of the Long White Cloud. Did you fly here? Look I can do magic and she waved her magic wand, said abracadabra and produced some small white feathery fairy wings for the delighted Chiara.

Frowdup she called excitedly. A round green blobby creature who blended seamlessly into the environment like some sort of exotic plant hopped over.

Yes Dear Fairy Princess?

Please could you play the music for us?

Oh delighted to oblige answered Frowdup, producing a flute like instrument.

At first the sweet notes of the instrument floated tentatively on the warm air. They rang like pure crystal, cool and pure, then slowly gained in confidence and multiplied, as though possessed of supernatural powers. It seemed the simple melody Frowdup played was accompanied by a whole orchestra of instruments.

The little fairy laughed in delight and grabbed the giggling Chiara. They began to dance instinctively with the energy of the earth, swaying at first like a tree in the wind, then whirling like the wind itself, soaring high into the air, imitating the flight of a parrot, then swooping joyfully back to the ground. They were connected to the magic of the music.

Whanga, one of the 13 Witches of Loathing was feeling rather bad tempered as she gazed into her glass ball. hmmmm bugger, she said crossly that little Fairy Princess from the Land of Long White Cloud is having way too much fun. She seems impervious nowadays to my magic spells of loathing

Whanga had to confess to being a little puzzled. For a while she felt she nearly had the Fairy Princess in her clutches, but one day something seemed to have changed, and the Fairy Princess did not seem to be so affected by her whispered spells any longer. What sort of magic had she found to protect herself Whanga wondered. .

It had begun to rain gently whilst Finn was in the enchanted fairy ring. She didn’t mind, she loved the rain and the trees protected her from the getting too wet. It felt cosy and magical. She had such a strong sense of the presence of her younger self. The younger Finn was three years old. Finn remembered the day,it was etched in her memory as a turning point, and yet it was also as though she were there again. She talked with her younger self, wanting so much to give the younger Finn a gift to help her make a different choice that day. Finn knew she had to trust with her heart, not reason it with her head, because there were just too many questions she could not make sense of, and magic did not seem to be so much about sense anyway. Anyway,whatever, if nothing else she felt lighter within herself .

Finn moves silently along the path, placing her feet with care. It is more overgrown in the wood than she remembers, but then it is such a long time since she came this way. She can see in the distance something small and pale. A gentle gust of wind and It seems to stir, as if shivering, as if caught.

She comes to a halt. The trees are still now, not a leaf stirs. She can hear nothing other than the sound of her own breathing. She can’t see the clearing yet either, but she remembers it’s further on, beyond the next winding of the path. She can see it in her mind’s eye though, a rough circle of random stones, with a greenish liquid light filtering through. The air smells of leaf mould and it is spongy underfoot. There’s a wooden bench, a grassy bank, and a circular area of emerald green moss. Finn thinks of it as place of enchantment, a fairy ring.

She reaches the tiny shivering thing and sees that it is a scrap of paper, impaled on a broken branch. She reaches out gently and touches it, then eases if off the branch, taking care not to rip it further. There is a message scribbled on the paper, incomplete. meet me, is all it says now

Finn feels dreamy and floaty. She smiles to herself, thinking of the purpose of her mission, feeling as though it is a message to her from the past. She is overwhelmed for a moment with a sense of love and acceptance towards her younger self. Yes, she whispers softly to the younger Finn, I will meet you at the fairy ring. We will talk a bit. Maybe I can help

Whanga the witch crawled out of the narrow entrance to her cosy cave to survey the day. Perfect witching weather she chuckled gleefully to herself; a tad overcast and cold, which made her job much easier, as even the fairies tended a little to despondency in such weather conditions. She noticed a bruise on her left shin and sighed. Whanga was used to this sort of misunderstanding in her job of course. She enjoyed her work, and was proud of what she did, however humans in particular just didn’t understand the service she provided, and were quick to be vengeful. The dream world left her a little exposed unless she remembered to do her protective spells before sleep, and last night she had just been too weary. Still, she thought cheering up considerably, she had obtained another wand for her collection yesterday, and felt sure this would improve her Witch of Loathing ranking.

Still feeling a little put out though about the bruise, although this was mainly pride, as she was impervious to pain in the way the humans suffered it, Whanga looked into her glass ball to see what knowledge it would reveal. That little Fairy Princess from the Land of the Far White Cloud was carrying on she saw. Hmmm who was that fat lady with her though? Whanga wondered. She looked very familiar to Whanga, who felt a ripple of uneasiness in her right index finger, a sure sign of danger. This could be trouble ….

She looked again and saw a young human female, attacking her violently in her dreams. For a moment Whanga toyed with the idea of revenge and cackled happily at the idea of all the mischief she could cause.

Pull yourself together Whanga, said Whanga, drawing back reluctantly from this delightful daydream. Keep on track. You know it won’t get you any points with the high witch adjudicators, it is the fairies you must focus on.

Írtak was playing with the dragon twins in the carved woodstones field. It was mostly faced shaped petrified wood that had been carved surely when it was still wood. The faces were quite hypnotic and made him feel often sleepy, but with the dragons he was feeling all his senses enhanced and sharpened.

The dragons were growing fast, hatched only a few days ago, they were already bigger than his father… He knew from Malvina that they could take whatever form they wanted, but he’d always thought that their power were developing from nothing to … something… but apparently they were already fully aware. Their leather skin was glowing emerald green, blended with some purple pink shades, or was it the contrary. It was changing so quickly. He was wondering what they were eating, because he wasn’t the one who was giving them any food. And still they were so big.
Did they have a “real” form? Whatever that meant.

One of the dragon gave him a mischievous glance and before he could anticipate what would happen, he was facing a growling troll :yahoo_time_out:. The troll was running right to him, seemingly crushing with his heavy body all the fragile woodstoned faces.

All his attention was on the troll and he didn’t hear the man coming.
And now the troll was freezed running and jumping forever… Írtak’s head was like a big storm of boulders falling from the sky. Growling, drumbling apart…

— You have strange games with your dragons.
— …

He was gaping at the man… his skin was bluish with pink also and sometimes a bit of yellow.

— Who are you?
— Don’t you recognize me?

Írtak tried to remember something. had he ever met that man before?

— Oh right, it’s our first meeting… from your point of view. I’d forgotten that. But you see, for me our first meeting is in your future.
— …

Írtak was still gaping at the man, this strange skin of him, it was so ambrulin, that color he’d already see somewhere… was it in a dream?
The man looked at him, and he felt for a moment a warm fuzzy feeling in his body… not particularly located in any part of it… and he would have… no, it was even in the woodstoned faces around him… how could he feel that?

— Your dragons are wanting to take part in the fun, the man smiled. I’m going to let them go, as I’m not staying either.
— Who are you? managed Írtak.

— I’m your father…
—
— HAHAHAHAHAH! No actually that’s a private joke… I’m Andrimiñ (AndruhMiiñ?) we’ll meet again in a few years of your time. Your dragons are really interesting then, and so are you.

Saying that, the time began to flow again in the right direction, the troll was still running toward him, but he suddenly slowed down and stopped, shape shifting into a bluish boy, with a face so similar to Andrimiñ.

— Where’s the funny man? he said.

Becky woke up in a sweat. Her bedclothes were tangled and what remained of her pillow was on the floor. The room was full of downy feathers.

Sheesh, said Becky, pushing sweaty strands of hair out of her eyes and reaching for her cigarettes.

What a dream! Wow, I wonder what that witch did to deserve that! Becky couldn’t quite believe she’d had such a violently aggressive dream. All she could really remember was attacking a witch, and slapping her repeatedly, and punching her, screaming all the while DON’T…EVER….DO THAT AGAIN Wangwangawanga…… DON’T DO IT wangawanga… then the witch had turned into a goose, but still Becky kept punching her, causing the poor gooses feathers to fly everywhere, and all the while Becky kept shouting WANGAWANGAWANGA……

I can’t believe I did that, even in a dream! Becky hated violence so much that she walked out of the room if a violent scene was showing on the television, and she loved witches and geese.

That poor goose! Becky decided to go back into the dream, to smooth what was left of the gooses ruffled feathers, and apologize.

She stubbed out her cigarette, and settled back against the pillows and closed her eyes. Now the goose was looking at her reproachfully, in between straightening her plumage, and huffing and tutting a bit.

I’m awfully sorry about that! I don’t know why I did it. Becky hoped it was a forgiving kind of goose, and not a vengeful one.

It matters not, I suppose, grumbled the goose, I must have created being slapped around by a sweaty madwoman, though gawd knows why.

Were you a witch in another focus? Becky asked. Because I was angry with a witch initially, not a big white goose and I don’t know how I came to be pummeling you. Come to think of it, I don’t know why I was attacking the witch either. The witch did look unpleasant though, but you look nice enough….

Well I don’t look very blimmen nice with my feathers in this state, dearie! And don’t remind me of that dratted witch focus, gawd, I was horrid. Not surprised you lashed out at that one!

Becky started to relax. Things were looking promising. The goose was turning out to be rather sweet.

But as you can see, continued the goose, I am not a witch, I am a big white goose now, a rather sweet one too, even if I do say so myself, so let’s hear no more about it.

Becky smiled broadly at the goose. I appreciate that very much! Oh by the way…what’s your name?

Angela, answered the goose, Angela Wing.

REALLY? Becky said, rather rudely, and then caught herself and said: Angela! What a lovely name! Angela Wing, would you like to be in our play?