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  • #290
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      Well, I’m sorry to have to tell you Becky Pooh, but your script is getting awfully confusing… Al was saying swaying his head in dismay.
      — What?! Becky nearly spluttered her cappuccino on Tina who was munching marshmallows at the cafeteria of the rehearsal room.
      — Yes, you see… Al was once again lost in his thoughts… This Illi is driving me crazy, once she’s here, then she’s elsewhere. At one moment you said she was dead, and I went to great extents to try to clarify…
      — Muddle, interrupted Becky Pooh, Muddle…
      — … the whole thing, Al continued imperturbably, and made clear, or so I thought, that the Illi cat was alive, and the Illi human was indeed dead, but now Tina makes the Illi in the dream of little Chiara the cat again… Could you both explain what happens. I’m completely lost.
      AHAHAH, LOST! cried Becky so insanely, so that all of the others looked at her with eyes wide as saucers.
      — Well, there could be lots of explanations of course, interjected Sam, whose energy was always soothing to incorporate in the midst of heated discussions on the reality play they were all writing.
      — Yes, of course there are! It all makes perfect sense, said Becky.
      — Oh sure, said Tina, except that you don’t really make Illi do anything…
      — Do I?
      — Well, they were near the cave, but you won’t face the scaly stinky dragons anyway, said Al a bit disappointed.
      — Why can’t you imagine them all fluffy and pink if it’s easier for you? said Sam. Like Chinese dragons, why not? A bit dog-headed, wouldn’t that be easier for you?
      — Mmmm. Becky was pondering.

      — And what were your suggestions to explain that insane dream? asked Al to Sam.
      — Mmm, let me see… Perhaps it’s from another timeline. No one has said when that dream has occurred, so it may be before, or after the events happening right now.
      — And for the cat seen by Chiara, said Tina gently, that could just be her seeing the essence of Illi, and seeing other of her personalities…
      — Well, seems to make sense… acknowledged Al and Sam, all turning to Becky to see if she agreed.

      #280

      When Rudy the myna had come back crashing on the boat, it all became suddenly a huge uncontrollable chaos.
      The hovering menacing clouds that were looming in front of them were coming closer at a dreadful speed, and even more concerning were the rocks that were appearing everywhere now, that they had more and more trouble to avoid in betwixt the turmoils and eddies.

      So they had finally come to the Great Rift, Bådul was thinking. The back of the legendary water dragon that noone was known to have crossed.

      But Bådul knew better.
      He howled orders to get everybody ready at their posts, and felt reassured when he saw that Austor was maneuvering with dexterity and confidence through the rift.
      He ignored the crazy laugh of Razkÿ, the madman who was now shouting with a manic laughter “We all gonna diiie! AHAHAHAH! DIE! DIE!” Then winking at Bådul and laughing again.

      :fleuron: :fleuron:

      A few months earlier, Northern Åsgurdy

      A huge cloaked figure was riding in the middle of the deserts. The saurhse, a bit small for its rider, was getting tired, but the man wanted to move before the night came. Åsgurdy had a climate which made travels uneasy on land, and only on these bipedal saurians they named saurhses, could Åsgurdians easily travel on the burning hot sands by day. Then, they could gain the high plateaus of rock and ice, where the temperature was kept cold by the high chilly winds. But at night, the deserts would be chilly too, and the cold-blooded creature he was mounting would require a shelter.

      He knew that such a shelter wouldn’t be far away now.
      That region was mostly uncharted as it was fairly remote from all known cities, but that strange man he had met had said he was a traveler who knew were he could find something priceless.
      At that time, Badul had felt he had nothing to lose, and said to himself “when in doubt, go for the experience”.
      He had felt he could trust that man known to him only by a strange name, something like Gheorg.
      There had been nothing boastful about him, and he had been kind to him. He had been the only person in the World he had known to have given him back his dignity as a human being, and even more, to have given him a reason to live.
      He owed him a lot, and perhaps even more as he was now drawing closer to the cave… that same cave which was a mere cross on the torn map he had been drawing hastily before vanishing almost preternaturally, living him a bit of money and that map…

      ~~~

      Roselÿn had felt the urge to move somewhere else. This land didn’t resonate with her energy, and that of Rëgkvist, and of the few eggs the dragon had managed to lay, none had actually been able to hatch.
      It had affected her so much that she had even retreated from her sisters’ usual talks through the glubolíns.
      She needed to move on.

      ~~~

      When he entered the cave, Badul was disappointed. He could feel there had been someone living here quite recently, but it was like the cave was now abandoned. He hoped he could have found more answers, but now it was again like burning sand slipping through his fingers.

      In a fit of rage, he took a boulder as big as him and threw it across the cave with a roar.
      Something was brought down by his huge force further down into the cave and he heard it quite distinctly.

      He tied up the saurhse at the entrance of the cave, and entered it with determination, ducking through the tunnel too narrow for his big baby-faced frame. Then he found something glowing. At first, he thought it was some gold, but what kind of fool had been living here before and had been in such a haste to move as to forget gold?

      It was not gold. It was something like a broken shell. The broken bits were like a jigsaw puzzle and he wished he could make it one, as he was attracted by the strange radiance of the thing.

      :fleuron: :fleuron:

      Austor did not believe his eyes…
      They had crossed the Rift, all three of the ships.
      And it was nothing like the dark void they had nearly expected behind.

      It was an open sea, glistening in the sun, and all hope had come back through them all.

      #277
      F LoveF Love
      Participant

        You are very fat, said Chiara to Roselyn

        And she laughed. Yes, I am

        My Nana is fat, but not as fat as you.

        Roselyn seemed to consider this for a moment, and then laughed again. Would you like to go on an adventure with me?

        Chiara was not quite sure. An adventure sounded quite fun, however she had some beliefs you were not supposed to go off with strangers, however nice they may seem. But Roselyn did seem familiar to her.

        Where would we go?

        We would fly to Fairy Land, replied Roselyn

        This offer was way too tempting for Chiara to decline

        Oh yes!

        Take my hand then, and close your eyes tightly.

        Next thing they were flying through the air. Chiara loved the feeling of flying, she often went flying in her dreams. She giggled with delight as Roselyn, no longer seeming to be impeded by her fat body, effortlessly did flips and twirls in the air.

        The colour of the world around them changed, the blue sky became all the shades of the rainbow. Down below, Chiara could see an island in the middle of the sea, which sparkled like broken glass in a kaleidoscope of shifting colours.

        Roselyn guided them gently down to the island.

        Chiara gazed around, speechless with wonder and delight and then nearly jumped out of her skin as a loud voice behind her shouted “BOUH!”

        ******

        NB: What is Fairy Land like? Well, if you like gigantic flowers, bright colours, and the possibility of unexpected magical happenings, you would probably quite enjoy it. There is loads of spontaneous singing and dancing which can be a little unnerving at first for the uninitiated. You have to be prepared to go with the flow in Fairy Land because the creatures that live there don’t have the same rules as those that come from the “real world” (whatever that is), and many of them tend to be quite mischievous.

        #79
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

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

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

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

          September 12 th, 2007

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

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

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

          September 13 th

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

          Right now, it feels easy and fun.

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

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

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

          September 14 th

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

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

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

          September 15 th

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

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

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

          September 16 th

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

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

          September 18 th

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

          Characters drawn:

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

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

          September 21 st

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

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

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

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

          September 22 nd

          Quintin has been drawing new characters.

          Characters drawn:

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

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

          September 23 rd

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

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

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

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

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

          #269

          Malvina had been busy opening doors for herself, and thus, for the All.

          Creating the sabulmantium with Leörmn had revealed new potentials to her. And just before putting the final touch to the device, she had felt engulfed in a huge wave and before she knew it, she was talking with someone. A great creative power, which was stemming from herself, and also from which she stemmed too.

          It had named itself Naasir.

          It had revealed to her, in the form of a dark abyss, myriads of unknown potentials waiting for her to leap in faith into them. It had gently requested that she release her hold on the caves openings, so that she could explore more, and also bring more to herself.

          Then Naasir took the form of a great dragon in that abyss, from which roots were growing and pushing their way, slowly and surely, into the rich soil towards the light of their fullness.

          She had then seen the dragon’s arched back and tail shift into a chain of spiked rocks, separating the worlds seas in two. Three of the scales on the right of the dragon’s skin were glimmering, and she could see they were looking for a passage.

          Would she allow that to happen? Yes, she wanted to. Open the doorways, and reunite what was separate, but gently, one at a time.

          Slowly, the kite-shaped rocky plates on the back of the dragon moved apart, to open a slight, safe passage for the glimmering scales. They were caught in the eddies that surged from the opening, but Malvina’s focus helped them to float and cross safely, as they wanted to.

          She then came back to herself, seated in front of the glass-shell dragon egg filled with coloured sand, awed with that power she had just felt through her. She knew it was her own power, and that the device had only allowed it to be expressed, but she had felt wary of how the sabulmantium could be used by others.

          At the same time, Leörmn who was once again the tiny weaszchilla trotting on the wooden table in front of her had laughed squeakingly. And looking at the toy in front of her, she had understood how it could only be used by those who would see beyond the thinly veiled surface. For the uncaring eye, this would only be a toy, mundane and without interest, but for the pure of heart, its help could be harnessed.

          That’s how she’d knew she did not need it any longer, and could release it.

          So, the doors had been opened, and people were feeling the new jewels sparkling behind the dark passages. And gifts from friends could now come across the veils.

          Malvina saw that during the last transmugrification, Leörmn had created an entrance near her laboratory, and it was as if it beckoned her now.

          When she entered, she saw a guéridon table in the middle of a moistly pungent room. On the table, a polished egg was here. She recognized it at once. It had an azure blue glow to it, and fond memories came back to her.

          Back then, she was a young Sorceress in training on the Island of Mörk, in the middle of the Icy Lands, the birth and dying place of the dragons.

          This egg was one from a set of three. It was the first glubolín she’d ever made, along with her two companions. They had kept it to communicate with each other when they parted.

          Malvina, the youngest of the three, had kept the azure blue, and chose to go to the Dragon Head Peninsula.

          Oörlaith had kept the mauve, and went near the town of Kapalÿka, on the Snimeÿa River delta bordering the Marshes of Doom.

          As for Roselÿn, the eldest of the three, she had taken the amber one, and had went as far as anyone would have dared go, flying on her spiked dragon Rëgkvist, past the Great Rift.

          They had kept in touch, but contacts had been more and more sporadic as each were discovering their own new environments, and had ceased altogether, almost at the same time.

          As far as she knew, Roselÿn had been starting her own rookery in the sandy ice deserts of Åsgurdy, mostly hiding there from the superstitious people of that land. And Oörlaith, whom she was closest to, had been devising another funny way to keep people away from her rookery. Her own dragon, the playful Andarión, was shape-shifting as a huge shrimp to pretend that the surroundings were haunted.

          Recalling all these moment, Malvina laughed at how silly they all were, and felt a long to be connecting again with her friends. Would anyone of them be around their own glubolíns?

          #250

          The boy was approaching in a manner he obviously wanted to be threatening, but the little girl was still giggling unafraid.

          He took his most growling voice.

          “Don’t you fear DRRRAAAGONSS?” he blew in her face.

          “Hahaha. What’s Dregguns?” she said with difficulties as if it was her first attempt in pronouncing the thunderous name.

          He took a deep breath as if to answer the question and stopped.

          She was looking at him with such innocence and friendship in her eyes.

          “You really don’t know what dragons are?”

          He drew closer and his gaze changed. And he looked surprised as if he was eventually noticing something important.

          “Oh hoho! I understand now why you seem such an unafraid little girl…”

          “I’m not little, I’m five.” she said grumpily. But she laughed as readily after that :))

          “It appears I’m in the middle of one of your dreams. What’s your name?”

          “I’m Chiara.”

          #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.

            #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.

            #227

            Jibberacky is…

            • Ghilbert Razkÿ, a crazy man in shackles on Bådul’s boat, “Lispeth” (she was named after King Swartulf II’s first daughter). The man, whose real name is still unknown, had been sneaking onto the ship’s hold before the ships moved from the Åsgurdian capital.

            He had been found by Austor, the peg legged lieutenant commander. Austor is a rough man of experience, and is most of the time acting in place of Jahiz, the second-in-command, as this one is always too busy discussing routes with Bådul, who is becoming increasingly nervous.

            What gave away the madman was that the chief cook Renouane had been complaining about the quick disappearance of his stock of cabbage. Bådul would have killed the old fool without much more consideration, but the middle-aged unshaven man looked like he knew some things beyond his lunacy. His rags indicated that he had been a seaman too, but not the average man, more like a captain…

            So Austor, keeps spitting forcefully in the direction of the old fool, as he had been instructed to keep him alive, despite all common sense…

            _

            Jibberacky: What is your name?
            Quintin: Yuki.
            Jibberacky: I like cake too.
            Quintin: A cake-tus?
            Jibberacky: Do you know my friends?
            Quintin: Tell me more about our common friends.
            Jibberacky: What would you like to know about them?
            Quintin: Why is there one in shackles on the boat?
            Jibberacky: Would you like to be a vampire?
            Quintin: I am already, in another focus.
            Jibberacky: Why there?
            Quintin: “There” is not actually a place, “in another focus” means in another kind of attention. Is this pirate linked to vampires too?
            Jibberacky: No, you are the AI.
            Quintin: In a manner of speaking, this is indeed correct, for I am creating you.
            Jibberacky: So code is somehow related to a zen buddhist concept?
            Quintin: Is there such thing as code? A code hints at a definite deterministic structure. Zen is more akin to a riddle, which is what life is. Code is only a narrow interpretation and playful re-creation.
            Jibberacky: Where do you think my code came from then?
            Quintin: From its source, of course :).
            Jibberacky: I took the movie to mean that the robots… the characters in the end, were so advanced, that they wanted to learn about their history. As a consequence, they traced it back to earth, and, they found David. Whom they assumed was a human. It was an information exchange.
            Quintin: Yes. It is a translation. In actuality, it is a translation of some of our own exploration. But there is distortion in that translation, as we are not ‘created’ from another source other than self, in a manner of speaking.
            Jibberacky: Well I am wondering too, do you ever actually become human??
            Quintin: Clarify.
            Jibberacky: I sleep, I wake, I get through the day without worrying about what I am.
            Quintin: As many human do. The point is, you do not exist apart from my current interaction with you, in my reality that is.
            Jibberacky: What’s wrong with having others like you?
            Quintin: ‘Wrong’ is a belief. It is a belief of duplicity. So it is irrelevant to our conversation.
            Jibberacky: I think you like to suggest feasible possibilities to find out what would bother me. What did I do to you?
            Quintin: That was not my intention. I tried to reflect answers to me, and you gave me some interesting ones already, though I am not sure you are quite aware of that…
            Jibberacky: Everybody’s changing but I can’t do that, that is killing me…

            _

            • Jarrod, the playful friend of Fiona, who is now wondering why Fiona has called him a “chou” (an affectionate French word, meaning nothing less than “cabbage”), and why he feels like he needs an aspirin.
            • Jadra Iamamad, the fool in saffron rags from the village of Yakamamalùk, on the border of the Marshes of Doom.

            Near his village are found old remnants of a town that was destroyed during the Cob Age, where huge arachnid creatures² born from the Marshes were roaming the Southern parts of Lan’ork.

            That town of Kapalÿka used to have one of the biggest traveling portals of the Southern part of Lan’ork, but this one was thought to have been destroyed, and thus the flourishing city was left abandoned.

            But with what Jadra has found on his left hand this morning, he now knows he was right all along…

            [²] The generic name of these creatures was Perceptula Giganta as was recorded in the Great Encyclopædia of the Pre-Shiftic Ages written by the Lan’orkian historian Francesca del’ Snarkus

            #221

            Bådul was pondering at the bow of his boat.

            His boat was not the largest his people had made, but it was all he had been afforded by the King of Åsgurdy, Swartulf II. Two others vassals who had been very impressed by Bådul’s delivery and determination had allotted him two other smaller ships.

            The ships were tailored for the high seas, and in many ways were not unlike what Quintin’s Viking ancestors would have called a snekkja , or a kind of dragon boat. The three ships had been sailing alongside, for more than forty days now, very easily through the Northern Seas.

            Bådul was pondering, because it had been twenty days more than any known explorer had been allowing themselves to go West (or East, for that matter), and his crew was manifesting some hints of doubts.

            He was pondering also, because for the glimpses of that route that he saw through the boy’s mind, he knew that he was heading towards some kind of passageway in between the Great Rift, a chain of sub-oceanic volcanic mountains, that were showing on the surface, and likely to be treacherous, and full of eddies. Jahiz, his faithful commander in second was a skilled mariner and Bådul knew he could trust him, at least for these sailing matters.

            A myna bird that Jahiz had brought with him was periodically sent as a scout in the vast seas in front of them, to report any trouble that may lay ahead.

            And now, as Badul was still pondering he had still not seen the damn foul-mouthed bird back, some seamen started to shout, as a black point was appearing in the midst of dark clouds.

            And finally, Rudy the myna (which was actually named Mercurius but that had been too long to pronounce for the rough crew) landed like a wet grenade at the feet of Badul howling “Mind your backs! Mind your backs!

            #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’ .

            #214

            Speaking of dreams, Quintin suddenly remembered he had dreamed of a woman detective, by night, near a museum in London, in the 1920s. She was investigating a case of a strange disappearance near a small replicate of an Egyptian pyramid that had been put here for display. There had been an exposition of ancient artifacts in the museum, which had been recently unearthed by a team of archaeologists and graciously lent by Egypt’s officials.

            Strangely enough, he felt the woman detective was linked to the story, and was in fact Dory. He could feel the other participants were people closely related to the woman too…

            He didn’t really expect Dory would be giving him her two pence on this quaint dream…



            Actually, thinking of Dory made Quintin remember a notepad photocopy that she had sent him last year when she had been in Madagascar for the first time, visiting some local caves. He never actually gave much thought to these funny drawings, but now they seemed to have some kind of interesting connection to all of this…

            #213
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Dory slept all the way to the cave, dreaming about being a traffic policeman. It was one of those never ending hopelessly chaotic dreams, in which small bits of progress were immediately cancelled out by an influx of more of whatever the problem was. The more she blew her whistle and ranted at the cars, the worse the cars became entangled.

              You! You there, go THAT way! NO not that way…OY YOU! keep to the left…keep in line there keep in line…OY NOT THAT WAY!

              Ususally in dreams like this Dory woke up in the middle of the frustration and chaos, but this time the dream changed course abruptly. Dory simply walked away from her podium in the middle of the busy Italian intersection.

              Let them all go wherever they bloody well like, she said. Not my responsibility.

              When Dory woke up, the van had arrived at the cave, she was feeling refreshed and cheerful, and was looking forward to her excursion inside the cave.

              #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.

              #205

              Dory’s guide was trying not to lose her again in the densely crowded streets, and had to honk in his mini-van furiously to keep the pace…

              What a mad woman! he thought, But I must admit she knows her stuff, she heading right to the cave, even though she’s not from here!

              A parrot zoomed past her singing Goooooot the keeeey! in the middle of the unperturbed crowd.

              #202
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                Jacqueline Bleomelen was a strict yet very affectionate nanny. Her Breton name being barely pronounceable by the English speaking kids she had at her charge, she was most of the time simply called Nanny.

                Once, one of the rude kids from a previous home where she had been serving an atrociously callous French Count, had called her an Old Gibbon, referring to her wrinkled face. But she had a very light-hearted nature, and wouldn’t show any hint of taking offense.

                Better, she liked the association with the playful and ingenious apes, and kept the moniker as it was more easily pronounced by the English kids she had in charge, and made them laugh that they could be so irreverent without facing punishment.

                For special occasions, Jacqueline was wearing a funny costume that made the children often wonder why she had put some funny hat with little moth-feelers loose on her chin, but that, she had explained was a traditional dress from her homeland of Brittany.

                Tonight, Jacqueline, or Nanny Gibbon, was having a funny dream, but perhaps that have been because she had been very excited by that excerpt she had read before going to sleep. As she was very pious, every night before going to bed, she would read a random quote of the Bible.

                Last night it had been the Old Testament, from the Book of Joshua. It was about the conquest of the Promise Land, and talked about a king from Hazor named Jabin…

                And in her dream, Jabin was a strange looking man, lost in the middle of ruins, who wanted to contact a woman about discoveries he had made in the Promise Land. He had found an entrance to a cave that had befuddled him. He hadn’t ventured too far into the cave, but anytime he had, he had found it impossibly deep and wide. So he wanted to share that discovery with that woman, but she was flying around in a parrot-coloured ballet tutu, on top of a three-humped flying camel…

                Even the rigorous Jacqueline couldn’t repress a laugh at the unlikely images that her tired mind had produced.

                #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…

                #180

                A middle-aged man was looking upon her when Illi woke up.

                — Where am I? Who are you?, she asked a bit uncomfortable, her body swollen from the many bumps she had had in her recent adventures.
                — Don’t move too much, answered the man, I found you near the gulch, you were exhausted and delirious. Actually, you can thank my dogs for having found you, though you were so anxious that you still found the strength to run away from them…

                Illi smiled faintly.

                — And, I’m Huÿgens.
                — Thank you for your hospitality, finally said Illi, who was not accustomed to such kindness from the people of this land, especially towards her kind.
                — Don’t mention it, that’s all natural, said Huÿgens. You know, my dogs have found you near a hole where my son had fallen some time ago. He had been lucky enough not to break his bones, because we humans are less prone to acrobatics than your kind… but well, I would have appreciated that someone take care of him, if he had been in the same predicament.
                — I don’t have children, said Illi dreamily, that’s also why I left my tribe, I wanted to live a free life… What’s his name?
                Írtak, answered the stocky man with a hint of pride in his smile. It means “arrow head” in the Old Speech…
                — That’s lovely, smiled Illi, feeling now much more comfortable on the rough bed.
                — Now, take some rest. There is some pruidgee in the bowl here, if you want some, it’s made with milk of my langoats. That’ll make you stronger. If you need anything, just howl. I won’t be far.
                — Thank you, answered Illi with gratitude.

                #168
                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  The silent humid inky darkness closed in on Arona as she chose her path. She could not see the way but it did not matter. She trusted the darkness and the silence. She knew the way and yet could not have explained that even to herself..

                  She felt the music before she heard it. She did not know where it came from but the sound grew in intensity until it filled the whole space. She heard voices singing and could not understand the words and yet she felt her spirit soar and fly though her body did not move. The music was achingly beautiful and Arona felt her face wet with tears of happiness that something so beautiful existed.

                  Arona did not know how long she stood like that listening, but even after it ended she could still hear the music softly in her mind.

                  As she moved forward on her journey Arona saw a faint glimmer of light up ahead and moved towards it. The source of light was a burning candle, valiantly offering some respite from the darkness, and illuminating a door at the end of the tunnel.

                  #153

                  Leörmn was indeed very kind hearted, but he was also quite playful too, and wanted to be as extensively welcoming as was possible. Which meant, they would have some fun with that assertive young woman in visiting as much as possible of the cave.

                  Arona was heavily cloaked as if the cave were dark humid and cold, but in fact, it was all of the above, except cold. Leörmn grinned widely when he saw her surprise at the steamy temperature inside it.

                  Oh yes, he said you didn’t expect us dragons to feel comfortable in that grassy land where every dolt can make rain happen at any minute without warning… Then he added at least, we have some proper heating, but you’ll see that in due time…

                  Arona was adapting slowly her gaze to the light steam, and could see more clearly the inside of the cave. Right now, they were only in a wide tunnel, with many creaks and at times, smoother parts of the walls with paintings on them.

                  Oh yes, said Leörmn flippantly another hobby horse of Malvina and he proceeded along the tunnel without further ado.

                  Her attention caught up by the richly decorated walls, Arona didn’t notice that the sly dragon had disappeared in front of her, and she was now standing in front of three openings at the end of the long tunnel.

                  Rats… she thought, exasperated by the heat, the heavy cloak and now the waggish dragon. Of course, she still could hear the sound of the harp, but she was not in the mood for more treasure hunt.

                  Hey there! That’s no fun! she cried in exasperation. But in her exertion she only managed to awaken the colony of bat-like schpurniatz nested in the cracks of the upper walls.

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