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  • #243
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      William Percival Jobsworth, or “Bill” for short, was finding the old creaking manor as freaky as their owners.

      The Wrick family was known around for being shrouded in mystery, and few people had actually been invited inside the manor, after its acquisition by Lord Wrick.

      The manor itself was full of ghost stories, as every mansion worth its salt in that part of the country. But this one has been a wreck on which he would not have invested two pence of his money, after it had been abandoned for many decades after the sudden death of the previous owner, the Crazy Baron.

      But Lord Wrick was an eccentric, and had bought the manor and restored it to its previous grandeur.

      It had been thrice now that Bill had come to the manor to paint the family portraits. The first time he had also delivered that strange parcel, given to him by that strange lady. Looking straight into his eyes, she had also told him something that had lingered in his mind quite vividly.

      « Suffering is not good for the soul, unless it teaches you to stop suffering. »

      He couldn’t see exactly why it applied to him, but the lady had seemed so authoritative about that, that he had agreed and felt like thanking her.

      The parcel had come a bit unexpected to the Lord, though he was quite artful in hiding his emotions, Bill could say. He had questioned him about the lady, but Bill had not dared to share with him the thing about the suffering. Actually the Lord looked in pretty good shape considering the age he was likely to be. He pretended to be a bit incapacitated, but Bill would have bet that if he had fallen from a window, he would have landed on his feet as a cat.

      Speaking of which, their old cat with its worn-out blackish fur was a bit freaky too. Bill had felt at times he could hear it answer the Lord’s gibberish.

      But all in all, that was easy money, and he thanked the opportunity to be able to do these paintings while the winter was coming.

      Now was something else. He almost startled when he was opened the big entrance door, to be revealed an improbable shape, two or three heads taller than him. It took him a short while to recognize the smile of the children’s nurse, topped by a funny hat that made him laugh heartily, after the initial shock was dissipated.

      Hahaha, sorry, that was unexpected… he managed to say to Jacqueline, who was not unaccustomed to these odd kinds of reactions.

      Not to worry she said with a slight French accent. Monsieur and Madame Wrick have come back from their trip to Mogadishu, and you will be able to have their portraits done. They will stay here for a few weeks…

      Linda and Peregrine Wrick were Cuthbert and India Louise proud (and a bit insouciant) parents, Lord Wrick had explained without much more details. Peregrine was the son of Lord Wrick’s only son, Sean Doran Wrick, but Bill had felt some restrain to ask about Sean Doran, as the Lord had seemed a bit umbrageous only speaking his name.

      Oh… said Bill who did not expect them to come back so quickly.

      Appendix: The Wrick family tree

      #241
      F LoveF Love
      Participant

        Fiona woke up smiling from her dream.

        She had been in a new house, scrubbing the wooden floorboards, rearranging furniture. There was a nice garden, very green. Anyway all these ducks flew into the garden, well ducklings really, because they were cute and yellow, like cartoon ducks.

        It had been drought conditions for so long that Fiona was concerned for them. So she filled a glass with water and threw it over them. She kept doing this, and the ducks were hopping happily around in the water. Then they all started clapping their wings together to thank her.

        Fiona had been having lots of duck imagery lately. A funny thought crossed her mind as she thought of Rose, a friend of Dory’s who was into birds. Well she was a friend of all of them, but Fiona associated her with Dory, because Dory was always saying “Rose said this… or Rose said that”…

        Quintin said ‘ducks and drakes’ was a game where you threw pebbles into the water or something. This cast a slight shadow over Fiona’s day thinking about it, because sadly her pebbles had still not arrived from Yann.

        Anyway when they did get there, no way would she be throwing them away into the water. Not after this long a wait.

        What was the time anyway? she wondered looking at her watch 1:11, cool time for some more housework.

        #237
        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          Magic is easy peasy
          My hand is sore
          This poem is rubbish
          So I won’t say any more

          Well we must thank the Gods for small mercies said Mandrake, sighing heavily. Arona laughed. Her mood felt so light again, as though something had really, really, REALLY fallen into place for her.

          Up ahead the tunnel widened. Arona gave a small gasp as she saw what appeared to be a coatstand with a black cape standing in the middle of the path.

          My Cloak, she cried, astonished, and feeling sure that the crafty dragon was behind its unexpected appearance. Hmmm, what a mouldy old thing, she thought, as though seeing it for the first time.

          There was a note pinned to the cape:

          I build up castles. I tear down mountains. I make some men blind, I help others to see. What am I?

          Arona hesitated only for a moment. Sand! She said, delighted with herself.

          #236
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            Arona hummed happily to herself. She felt so light without the cape and the tunnel was bathed in the gentle light of many glukenitches. Mandrake the cat followed along too, much to Arona’s delight, although she was a little hesitant to tell this to the grumpy cat

            Magic magic magic magic she hummed to herself

            Arona almost skipped along the tunnel, and, so wrapped up was she in thoughts of magic, that she tripped and fell heavily, hurting her left hand as she put it out to save herself

            Ouch, hells bells and warty wizards, she muttered, for it did hurt quite considerably… and then she had some scarey thoughts. She looked around and realised that really, the fact of the matter was, undeniably, that she was still lost in the darkish tunnel.

            What if I don’t believe in magic? and her happy mood plummeted.

            Oh fuch, she swore, and sat down on the cave floor. FUCH FUCH FUCH FUCH she shouted as loud as she possibly could, and in fact hurt her throat a little in the process and quite possibly the sensitive ears of many glukenitches.

            This blessed cave is doing my head in. I want to see the sunshine, or the rain, no matter, I don’t care what the weather is doing I JUST WANT TO BE OUT OF THIS CAVE.

            Ooops that was rather loud

            After coaxing Mandrake back, as he had retreated quite some distance at her outburst, she sat down and put her head in her hands and tried to think. Did she believe in magic? Well of course she had no choice. Life without magic was inconceivable to her.

            She felt a familiar tiredness sweep over her as she struggled to work it out. Perhaps I will just have a small sleep before I continue, and she curled up on the ground, wishing she had her heavy black cape to wrap around her.

            As she gave up the struggle and let sleep come she heard some soft words

            It’s easy Arona … magic is easy … it is the thread linking all to all

            ************

            A short while later she woke from her sleep, feeling refreshed and ready to continue.

            #233

            Dory was secretly delighted Georges had drugged the coleslaw, despite appearing to be angry. She loved the way different things altered her perception, and even though she knew how to alter her perception without using a drug now, she also knew she was creating the drug and its effects, and that it didn’t much matter whether she did or she didn’t.

            (Becky wondered if that principle applied to pain relieving drugs too, and decided that indeed it must. She wondered though if she really really believed it enough to trust herself to create pain relief WITHOUT actually swallowing a little ball of physical matter)

            Dory was reluctant to admit it at first, but she’d also known all along that she’d created Georges appearing out of nowhere like that, and that she had in fact invited him. Sometimes it seemed easier to forget that and just grumble, which of course was acceptable too. Grumbling was fun sometimes, but it got awfully boring if she carried it on for too long.

            The coleslaw was delicious.

            Have some more, offered Geroges

            (Becky made a note to change Georges name to Geroges. It was no accident that she kept typing it like that, and she was beginning to think correcting it all the time was futile, and that she was somehow missing the clue)

            Dory munched the crunchy coleslaw.

            (Without a moments appreciation for her lovely strong full set of teeth, Becky noticed)

            Dory unexpectedly felt a moment of appreciation for her teeth. Wow, she thought, I never even think about that, but teeth are cool. She shuddered when she remembered an awful dentist dream she’d recently had.

            Dory looked up at Geroges and smiled.

            Got any chocolate?

            #232

            A few days after Sam and Becky’s conversation on the phone, they were having a rehearsal.

            Just at the moment when they felt stuck again, despite Sam’s moves, Al and Tina, a couple of friends came crashing into the small theater room, and were greeted by an icy cold silence. “Icy” is an exaggeration of course, said Tina, “it just meant I had to put a jacket on again today”.

            Sorry for being late! said Al a bit uneasy.
            — Oh you and your uneasiness! said Tina. And I’m sure we’re arriving at the perfect time.
            — Oh, well, I’m not sure of anything today, said Becky. I’m sick of being force-fed coleslaw, and rigging down holes for myself.

            A silence was on the scene.

            :fleuron:

            At the same time, somewhere on the deck of his ship, Bådul was remembered of the landscapes of his land. He had not really appreciated them before, but now, he was finding them dear to him. They were for the most part a mixture of sandy dunes, from which at times peaks of icy rocky mountains would stick out. Lately he had felt like one of these peaks sticking out of the sands. The sands were shifting.

            :fleuron:

            Somewhere in Malvina’s cave.

            Malvina had been polishing the last dry eggs that she had found and that would not hatch. One of them had some interesting perfect round shape, and a very transparent shell, and it gave her an idea.

            She asked Leörmn to come.

            :fleuron:

            Quintin’s bedroom.

            [1:01] The clock was saying. Quintin had just awoken from a dream about an elderly woman who was showing him some drawings. These were not actually drawings, but in fact, they were called by the lady “glassart”. It was made, she said, of coloured sands, and would be vitrified by some flame. Quintin in that dream had thought the designs rather crude, but had found the idea interesting, and with great potential.

            :fleuron:

            Leörmn came almost instantly, appearing in a puff of teal smoke.

            Oh, I see… he said, reading Malvina’s mind. And I think I have the perfect sands to go with it.

            :fleuron:

            — Why hasn’t that pirate, Badass…
            Badul, corected Al
            — Whatever, Becky pursued imperturbably, that pirate Baddock used traveling portals to go and look for the eggs? Why the seas? Sounds a bit complicated and with lots of dangers too.
            — Good question, answered Al. Well, don’t want to answer for everyone, but in my perception…
            — Oh, get lost with your “in my perception” thing, that’s becoming tiring… sighed Tina
            — OK. So, for me, they have forgotten much about magic in his land.
            — Makes sense… added Sam dreamily… In fact, I’m not sure after all that Badul is only after gold. I think he has found some old desert dragon egg in a cave lost in his country and hopes to revive it, with the help of the people who still know about magic.
            — Which would explain the quest… said Al
            — Yeah, and he would have hidden that to the rest of the crew, probably… said Tina

            :fleuron:

            Leörmn had now finished assembling the magical artifact.

            — That’s one of our most beautiful magical artifact I’d say, Malvina gleamed
            — Oh yes it is. And how would you call it?
            — Let’s see…

            :fleuron:

            sabulmantium !

            Everyone cracked up at the word that Al had just blurted out. They had decided to have some distraction to alleviate the stress on the play, and they had a fun improvisation game, saying stupid things that went through their minds.

            — Hey! Don’t laugh like that, it’s something very serious actually, said Al tongue-in-cheek. Let me see…
            — Hahahaha, the others continued
            — Well, it’s a divination device, or a sort of compass in a way. I see it as a globe made of glass, with coloured sands in it, and when you focus on it, the sands take all sorts of three dimensional shapes, and become alive…
            — Wow! Tina couldn’t help but say.

            :fleuron:

            Leörmn, as Malvina had been telling him (or vice versa), had put the sabulmantium in one of the tunnels, to a place where he knew Arona would find it, and probably put it to good use for her future adventures.

            #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.

            #222

            Dory was in fact only seeing one parrot: it was a bit exhausted and its head seemed like it had a toothache… but it had no tooth.

            “Hum.”

            Dory was startled by the masculine voice. She hadn’t heard any sound from someone coming or felt any breeze indicating movement. As she turned her look at the man, she was even more startled by his face. A young face with bright amber eyes, and some funny tattoo on his forehead. She was unable to find any association with the shape which seemed to change in every moment. She was a bit hypnotized by it’s multi-dimensionality.

            “hum” the man said again.

            “Are you looking for something here?”

            His voice was deep and warm, very reassuring and she wasn’t feeling alone now, the tunnel was indeed feeling very crowded, the presence of the man was awesome.

            “Well it seems I’ve found you…” she said.

            “Enchanté. My name is Georges.” he said, a smile illuminating his face.

            “I just came out of the Faded Cabbage, a very nice tavern in Dalmot… I felt some dizzy portal appearing and felt the impulse to go through it, and here I am.”

            It was all nonsense to Dory, except the cabbage part that reminded her of the coleslaw. Her belly was growling.

            “Actually I’m quite hungry, and I’ve nothing to eat…”

            “Oh” he said. He just looked in her eyes, making her feel more dizzy or blurred, she was feeling so out of her reality.

            The smell of coleslaw was filling the tunnel…

            “I have some… what do you call that ?”

            #217
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Never speechless for long, Dory wondered out loud if she should just hurry along into the cave and hope to catch up with some other expeditioners, or explore the area around the cave first.

              Have a look around, a voice in her head said. Ever the wanderer, always curious to just see what’s around that next corner, and the next….Dory wandered through the strange tall rock shapes. In a sort of natural passageway between vertical rock faces she came upon a group of people squatting next to a large oblong hole in the ground. The womans shawls and headscarves were flapping madly in the wind as she conversed with a boy of about 13, and it seemed to Dory as though they were discussing moving something so that it wouldn’t be found. Dory stood perfectly still just watching, and somewhat strangely they didn’t seem to notice her standing there.

              An older man with curly grey hair and a long maroon djelaba and a tall narrow brimless black hat started to hurry away, as if a decision had been made.

              Dory watched him until he disappeared from view. When she looked back towards the hole in the ground, it had vanished, and so had the woman and the boy.

              PPFFFT! Dory had been deserted again. She turned and headed back towards the cave. Suddenly she felt hungry, and an image of a plate of cool crunchy coleslaw popped into her head.

              I hope they’ve laid food on in the cave, she said.

              #215

              After Arona said she was hungry, the energy of Malvina disappeared, and once again Arona found herself alone in the cave.

              She found this quite irritating. They are really bit rude around here, she muttered.

              Arona sat down on the floor of the cave and considered her options. She was tired of the cave and could barely remember what had drawn her here in the first place.

              It had been the music of course. She had wanted to find the source of the music. However for the most part she decided her experience had been rather disappointing.

              (Arona was never at her best when hungry and this was causing her to quickly forget some of the wonderful experiences with the music and the paintings, and take a rather negative view of events.)

              All I have done is wander around dark passageways really.

              And now, to top it all off, apparently things are shifting. In the name of heaven what does that mean?

              AND if one more person tells me to use my magic I will probably scream or something!

              Perish the thought, came a grumpy voice from a particularly dark corner. Your moaning is quite sufficiently bad enough.

              And Mandrake the cat emerged from the shadows and made himself comfortable on Arona’s lap. This is great, much more comfortable than the ground he purred.

              Oh cute, said Arona, a talking cat.

              Cute yourself, responded Mandrake, love your cape by the way.

              (Mandrake was prone to sarcasm, considering it a perfectly valid form of humour.)

              Arona stroked Mandrake’s soft black coat and tried her hardest to work out what to do. It was all feeling a bit bleak at the moment, the ever changing cave, the half light, the heat and humidity… and especially her hunger.

              Mandrake sighed in an impatiently eggsagerated sort of a way.

              Heavens to murgatroyd¹, how can I relax with your incessant thinking? Okay so here’s an easy one for you: what’s the most important thing about magic?

              All of a sudden Arona felt a flash of lightness and a sense of new energy moving within her.

              of course! She exclaimed delightedly, hugging the less than enthusiastic Mandrake, you have to believe in it!

              [¹] Note from the editor: Mandrake being a very educate cat from noble ancestors, some of its speech may be difficult to grasp for the average reader, which was certainly not the case for the astute Arona.
              Anyway, here is some complement on that ‘Murgatroyd’ .

              #212
              F LoveF Love
              Participant

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                FIONA!

                She turned back.

                Hey Jarrod

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

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

                FOOD! Great is that for me Fiona?

                #208

                When Bernhard, making his black panther puppet Archie speak, had answered the tongue-in-cheek burning question that was on everyone’s lips:

                Does Dory’s part of the story seem logical to you?

                the answer had come as a surprise to many…

                Yes he had answered… adding a few moments afterwards, though that there is some mistranslation within the interpretation. [¹]

                Archie also said that we were moving to a center of a seesaw which represents within your understanding an awareness of “it matters not”.

                Ahahah, how greatly befuddling a new riddle would that be? Perhaps the answer was very simple too. Something like “egg”…

                All that Quintin was sure, was that Dory surely enjoyed bouncing on seesaws juggling with a basketful of eggs!

                Perhaps, it mattered not after all… Perhaps, perhaps not… or not yet…

                Well, Archie had also admitted during the night he didn’t really care being a parrot in that story… Perhaps he had finally lost it too, as would certainly say Fiona, who was their last beacon of sanity in that insane adventure.

                [¹] Note from your impartially unbiased reporter: :yahoo_whew: (phew)

                #206

                India Louise had been switching her own book with Cuthbert’s that night. And as she was exploring some of the stories told in his, he was having a peek into hers.

                Very quickly, he became aware of a whole new continent, in that World, across the Middle Seas. In that continent far North of the one where Malvina’s was living, lived some intrepid people. They were strong with big voices, and a bit quarrelsome too. Their ways had forgotten lots about Magix and they placed most of the value into tangible items.

                The next page, a man was sailing across the Middle Seas with a handful of trusted men. He was a captain pirate, named Båd Al’Guz, which meant, Båd son of Guz. His crew referred to him as Bådul.

                Cuthbert was intrigued by this man, and had begun to discuss with him mentally, asking who he was, who were his people. The same as Cuthbert had been very innocently doing with gentle Malvina.

                But Bådul was tricky, and after a bit of a surprise, very soon discovered that the little boy could be a very interesting informant, though an unusual one.

                And in fact, his information was much more interesting than that which the shamans of King Wulfrick babbled in the most inspired manner.

                Till now, from the mouths of the buck-pelts clothed shamans had only came stupid gibberish that the King and his court gobbled endlessly. Something about “YaWn”, as they said: You animate Worlds neatly .

                How stupid was that? Their only answers were useless to him, they were only telling him that he activated and animated the Worlds neatly, and that, in short, nothing was fixed and he could do anything.

                Well, with that boy, that was different. He was talking about a cave with gilded dragon eggs, and THAT was of a great value to Bådul.

                But of course, he would not frighten the young boy and pretended that his intentions were that of an explorer, trying to discover new shores and new continents, so as to become closer to understand from where he came, and hopefully make people aware of their closeness to each others.

                He was such an eloquent actor that he almost shed a tear saying that sentence.

                As a matter of fact, for as long as he remembered, he had been wandering in many situations, and lots of them had not been very pleasant. Born from uncaring parents, as lots, if not all, of his people were, working as a janitor in a sordid tavern, then as a warden (if not executioner when requested) in an even more sordid jail… Were the Gods to be blamed for that? Well, according to the shamans, he was the only one to be blamed, because he did not accept his responsibility as a weaver of Worlds.

                Idiots.

                At least, he had found his passion. He love sailing, and taking riches for his pleasure. Whatever then, he would take his share, and not care about what was next.

                At least, if he could coax the boy into revealing more about that cave.

                #203
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  Dory dodged in and out of the people crowded in the narrow back street. She needed several meters clear run to activate her special flying sandals, and she had no idea which way to go.

                  A girl in a dark heavy blue cape was fiddling with a map on a street corner. Dory snatched the map off her as she ran past, shouting over her shoulder ‘thanks awfully, dont mind if I borrow your map do you?’

                  Glancing down at the map, she found it had morphed into a page torn from the old testament.

                  #201
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    The parcel contained two books, one for each of the twins. The books were large and heavy and bound in tooled Moroccan leather. There were blank pages where the illustrations should have been, but the twins had such vivid imaginations that they created the pictures as they heard the story. Sometimes it almost seemed as if they could enter the page, and roam around in it, until Grandad or nanny turned to the next page, and then the wonderful potential of the next blank space beckoned.

                    #198

                    BelleDora, the buxom maid of Huÿgens, winked at Illi.

                    She was somewhat familiar, a nurturing presence that reminded Illi of the maid she and her parents had in their cottage in South Africa. Except that BelleDora had big hairy feelers, like a huge velvety moth, and that her father and mother wouldn’t have been careless enough to recruit a maid with such laisser-aller.

                    She was perhaps dead in that dirty hole, but she was obviously still alive in this dirty hole. They all claimed she was something hairy and funny… a what’s the name already? A grim shawl? whatever…

                    Bugger this…

                    She was having a hard time putting all her thoughts together. She felt like she was many people at once, and none of whom were of great help to her current adventure…

                    Perhaps she would have to play the game to discover more of what or who she was?

                    So she asked BelleDora to explain more about this strange land.

                    And BelleDora was more than eager to provide some answers…

                    #197

                    Illi was getting used to being dead. At first she thought she was still alive, when she fell down the hole and landed on the smelly wet lump. The realization dawned gradually, so that it wasn’t too much of a shock. She had started to notice a strange dreamlike quality to everything, and no sooner had she imagined or thought of something, it materialized around her instantly.

                    #193

                    Of all the eggs Malvina had been collecting since the beginning of her settling down in the cave with Leörmn, only one had been producing a baby dragon, till now.

                    She had nicknamed her Buckberry, because the little one seemed so fond of the buckberries that grew at the entrance of the cave.

                    Buckberries were a variety of wild big electric blue-vermilion reddish berries, and were known to have thwarted all attempts to be grown in gardens. In a legendary past, a famous king of the near Kingdoms named Hadraz the Third was said to have been loving these fruits so much that he had spent torrents of gold in trying to have them farmed in the precious glasshouses of his realm. All the attempts of the most knowledgeable Master Farmers had been amounting to nilch.

                    This habit of Buckberry, for one moment had been making Malvina anxious of him revealing the location of their safe haven. As she could and would not prevent him to go in search for them, she created some powerful spells to hide him, at least from people to whom the little dragon had not revealed his true name first.

                    That had caused some stir from some people who where adventuring near the cave to pick up some of the juicy fruits that could be easily spotted from the plains, as they noticed a heavy breath and * munch * sound around the bushes, that moved like shaken down by a powerful ghost.

                    Thus has begun the trail of rumours saying that the cave was haunted.

                    All in all, Malvina was not so displeased that there were only a few eggs hatching at a time, as the young dragons were very lively, much more so than the older ones who kept most of their time sleeping, or more aptly put, dreaming.

                    Dragons had no need for training in a sense, as they were aware of their abilities, and Buckberry, even being so young could just have been moving away and started his own adventure, but something was compelling him to stay in the cave.

                    He had chosen a different form from that of Leörmn, and it was indicating he would not have the same intent. As he would continue to grow, he would probably be a very powerful dragon, shaped for flight and discoveries in the farthest boundaries of the Worlds. At times, Leörmn even doubted he would be fit for a human partner, as he had only managed to scare the few humans he had encountered…

                    After all, it was not necessary, though dragons could draw a lot from such a partnership.

                    Dragons were not always welcome, as they were feared for their might, and could not always easily explain what they were doing, as most of their movements were in the Unseen.

                    In that, only Ragmók, the old speech of the dragons could be used to properly explain these movements. Ragmók was not really a speech, in the human sense, as it could also be spoken through gestures or singing or drawing. But it was the very essence of Magix.

                    When a dragon and a human bonded, they shared their languages in a communion of their spirits, and the chosen human could delve easily into the Unseen, while providing to the chosen dragon an ease of movement into the Seen.

                    #191
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      The singing in the next room was getting louder. As Dory started to sing along, she felt better. Bugger this! she shouted, and leapt off the musty sofa. The trip to the cave! She felt around the floor with her feet for her shoes, and wasn’t altogether surprised to find her magic flying sandals. Perfect, how perfect is that! She looked around the cluttered shop store room as she buckled the sandals straps. She grabbed a bright blue energy blanket off a pile of coloured shawls, a pith helmet off a hatstand, a mini magic tool kit in a terracotta patterned kilim bag, and on impulse, a glass egg timer with bright fuchsia pink sand.

                      As she ran out of the back door a parrot in an elaborate wrought iron cage squalked ‘Don’t forget the key, dear, don’t forget the key’.

                      Key? What key?

                      ‘Don’t forget the key dear don’t forget the key dear don’t forget the key…’

                      WHAT bloody key dear! Dory was really anxious to get to the cave now, but something held her back.

                      The key, the key… There was something she couldn’t quite remember about a key. She looked around the room in a panic, It could take me HOURS to find the key in here, she ranted. Ok, ok, I tell you what, she said to the bird, I’ll let you out of that cage, you find the key, and catch me up. Meet me at the cave with the key, OK?

                      #188

                      This morning, Fiona and Quintin had a small impromptu chat —or rather, prompted by the story they were all weaving, that Archie, the puppet black panther, had been telling them last week-end that it was a magic connection between all of them…

                      Quintin: Your story was great!

                      Fiona: Thank you :) So was yours.

                      Have you written any more since I last looked at the story?

                      Quintin: no, I’m not that much inspired… I even considered to wrap in up in a way, but seeing you were all drawing so much from it, I think I will leave it open ever after…

                      Fiona: no, wrap it up if you feel.

                      I have drawn what I wanted. I will go and blow up the cave if we don’t finish it :)

                      Quintin: Ahahaha! Don’t restrict yourself ;)

                      Fiona: When you started the Malvina story, did you have an idea where it would go, or did you pick that one because you had no idea?

                      Quintin: This one nagged me because there were many people I felt behind it and I did not know how to get them to show up and make their presences known. And I felt that it was loose enough too, to allow people to jump into it; and there was your initial interest in the picture ;)

                      Fiona: The endearing dragons…

                      Quintin: Yeah…

                      But I had strictly no idea about the rest. It was just a bet, on luck…

                      That’s funny, because I had a strange impression of a little girl yesterday, in a futuristic city, named something like Janice , and it was like she knew now what she wanted to do, and it was something similar to that, something like creating worlds for other people, in which they could have fun, or heal, or explore things…

                      Fiona: And did she have any impression of what form that could take? Like books, or games or what…

                      Quintin: No, it was much more “real” in fact…

                      Fiona: you know like the card-captor game which I suppose is interactive, so real

                      Quintin: Yeah, perhaps a bit like that, yes; or like creating a ball of energy in which people can be drawn and experience as they will. It’s only a translation, but that’s the idea… in a way, that’s very similar to a game or a book, but only that it just feels totally “real”

                      Fiona: So a little bit like I have done with the story, to resolve something

                      Quintin: yeah, exactly, or with your paintings

                      Fiona: It can be really useful to take on other personas to do that, even like in drama type situations, being someone else…

                      Quintin: Yeah, people can unleash their imagination.

                      And I think there are still lots of things that we can expand in this universe in fact, not only related to the cave…

                      Fiona: such as? eggsamples?

                      Quintin: You said it! The eggs and relationships with dragons, all the magical artifacts or creatures. Didn’t you want a baby dragon?

                      Fiona: Yeah, I told you I did, but you just said some riddle!

                      Quintin: Did I? That’s not like me ;)

                      Fiona: Ahahhaha! It is you to the core

                      Quintin: LOL, damn me!

                      Fiona: Well, that is a bit strong, but …

                      Quintin: Ahahahahah. I said you would have to earn his trust? (or hers, for that matter)

                      Fiona: I can’t remember the eggsact wording, I think I had to work for it though, like you weren’t just handing out dragons on a plate

                      Quintin: It could bound with you very strongly and help you unravel your unknown magical powers. It’s not just a creature, it’s a complex personality, you cannot just take it like a puppy. There is a sharing between the two…

                      Fiona: So are you going to allocate baby dragons to people or what? Or shall I just go and find an egg that no one knew was there :)

                      Quintin: Ahahah, no, they will not be allocated, they will choose their own partners

                      Fiona: Ahahaha, one minute you say it is my story! And now you are back in control

                      Quintin: Ahahaha, the story has a willing of its own too…

                      Try to do what you want, it’s not a matter of control ; it’s just you’ll know what clicks and what does not…

                      Quintin: And actually, I don’t think everyone will be interested in dragons…

                      Fiona: How does a dragon help one learn magic powers?

                      Quintin: It’s just because there is an openness between the two; let me find something for you, that Elias (you know, Michaela’s partner), has told to me and Yann, when we had them on the phone last month.

                      Elias : I would express to you that, as you focus your energies with each other, and you allow yourselves to merge and feel into each others’ energies, you may in actuality each discover some obstacles that the other may not necessarily be aware of yet, and you can share that with each other, and therefore facilitate your interactions even further.

                      Fiona: And how having a baby dragon could help unleash our magic powers then?

                      Quintin: It helps because it reinforces your trust in your own abilities to connect. It’s not directing, it’s a sharing and exploration for both of them; that’s why they are picky. As you would be picky too, knowing you would share together all the darkest corners…

                      Fiona: I am not sure if i have dark corners ;)

                      Quintin: it was a metaphor :D

                      Fiona: ahahahhahahahahahah

                      Fiona: I know, so was mine :D

                      Quintin: ahahahahah

                      Fiona: I was thinking I feel really accepting of myself

                      Quintin: Yeah, that’s the point in the little adventure before you meet it.

                      You have shown your trust in yourself and in your abilities, and your self-centeredness, which is essential, for the dragon doesn’t want a frail personality. Because he drops his defenses too when he shares and bonds.

                      Fiona: Well I think it sounds scarey now, what if no dragon picked me…

                      Quintin: There will be instant recognition. And you don’t “need” a dragon actually, that’s what is important: it’s a catalyst, nothing more, nothing less…

                      Fiona: True.

                      Quintin: Like Arona managed to sneak into the cave without giving the answer to the riddle (egg-sitingly) because it mattered not to her, whatever the outcome, she was directing of herself.

                      Fiona: I felt like I have pictures now to assist me. I link strongly to pictures as a quick reference when I start to feel something like a negative emotion, for instance I may start to worry about how I am going to have enough money, or whatever, and I could quickly link to the spider picture

                      Quintin: you mean, you create an imagery, right? That is something which I like in your stories and emails; even though it is not necessary to create imagery, it’s always so entertaining, like having these funny creatures pop in the cave!

                      Fiona: Ahahahaha yes

                      Quintin: And also, in creating imagery, it helps you seeing it in a more neutral way

                      Fiona: I suppose it is just a quick trigger for the desired belief. I can link in quickly with the child, when I start to feel left out, for example.

                      Quintin: yeah, beliefs as an alphabet or a palette, neutral, but that can create words and sentences or images. And the imagery of the child was very similar for me, to that of the playfulness picture

                      Fiona: Yeah, I know… That’s what I said to you with the playfulness picture

                      Quintin: Of course, you know :)

                      Fiona: That I related most to the figure of blue hat… and big feet

                      Quintin: Ahahaha, stomping on the poor key-fish

                      Fiona: Nearly…

                      Quintin: Have to go now, thank you for this enjoyable conversation

                      Fiona: See you! :)

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