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  • #864
    AvatarJib
    Participant

      Sam was having a weird dream in which he was having a romantic relationship with Becky after having influenced Sean in a slippery sleepy slope.
      As the vision was developing itself, it appeared that they obviously had loads of children, like 7
      :yahoo_whew:
      Some of them were energies he was already familiar with, some he had glimpsed during Becky’s broadcast the other day.
      Some others were newly added to this dimension and Becky and him were gladly offering them an entry point, so to speak… and there was the potential for a few more.
      Sam smiled, because in wanting so bad not having these children, Becky were adding more fuel to this probability :) no matter who the father was. She may have been struggling with it, but it was one of the main point of her focus.

      #862

      “Actually, that’s it! Quintin had feared the implications, as lots of people did.
      It would mean everything would be allowed. Everything would be true, even the most blatant contradictions would be harmoniously living side by side.”

      Becky smiled at the marvelously appropriate Reality Play entry that she’d found whilst randomly reading back through their script notes.

      She’d had a hard time explaining to Sean about the probability glitch in which the note had appeared in the ‘wrong’ reality. He understood the concept of probable realities eventually, but he was hurt and confused as to why Becky had even thought to make up that probability in the first place. Becky hadn’t told him the full story about the dream, feeling that it may in some way be a self fulfilling prophecy if Sean knew that (in one probability, at any rate) he ended up an alcoholic, not to mention all those children! The very thought of all those children was enough to make Becky break out in a sweat, and she wasn’t inclined to add energy to that probable future.

      Becky explained that she had written the note to Sean (in the Reality Play) to tell him she was leaving him merely as a method of introducing some new characters, but Sean was deeply wounded.

      She did her best to placate her new husband and take his mind off it, even going so far as to don the shrunken tarty nun outfit. But after the romantic interlude, when Becky had fallen asleep, Sean was unable to stop thinking about it, and he wandered dejectedly into the kitchen, and poured himself a large whiskey.

      In an ironic twist of fate, a glimpse into a probable future had affected the present, and Sean’s descent into confused drunkenness began in earnest.

      #860
      EricEric
      Keymaster

        Leah was strolling on Marseille harbor, going to the fish market to buy some seafood for her guest’s arrival.
        She smiles when she sees that behind the swarm of noisy people, her big black-bearded fish-smelling friend Sarkandin is there as usual, regaling people of his antics and provoking exaggerations.

        “Hear, hear! It’s fresh, and only 5.7€ a pound… Yes Madam, can you believe it, 5.7 euros!”

        #857
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Another probable Becky hit send on her computer, and grinned wickedly. She had amused herself greatly writing her new storyline for the Reality Play, it had taken her mind off her cold.

          Becky wandered into the kitchen where Sean was clearing up after dinner and gave him a kiss. That rhubarb crumble was delicious darling, wherever did you learn to cook like that!

          Aha, replied Sean, It’s a secret recipe of Manon’s, she made me swear not to tell anyone. The secret, he continued, and dropped his voice to an enigmatic whisper, The secret is the groiselles.

          Sean picked up the empty crumble dish to put it in the dishwasher, revealing a handwritten note that had been underneath it.

          Sean recognized Becky’s handwriting, and smiled fondly at her. Oh, what have we here! he said, and started to read. Becky was frowning, perplexed. She hadn’t written a note to Sean in THIS probability!

          #854

          Of course I will introduce you, said Phoebe calmly, Franiel, meet Vincentius.

          That’s funny you say that, said Franiel recovering his marbles after a bit of an aghast moment. This name sounds oddly familiar… Is… he a talking parrot?
          Oh, yes of course, said Phoebe Chesterhope, though that’s not the least of its particularities she added with an eerie smile on her thin wrinkled mouth.
          The others, you said she snapped back, her gaze suddenly sharp as a sword. I suppose you’ll meet them, unless you’ve got already.
          I’m not sure to know what you’re talking about, Milady said Franiel slightly perplexed.
          Oh well, I can see from the clothes you are wearing that you’re coming from a place of peace and sainthood. This place is a haven too, in many ways. This place has been kept as such since a few centuries, and I intend it to stay that way. Though the Others are devising ploys always more clever to have a hand on this place. For that, I know how to keep a keen eye on what’s happening, she said with a troubling wink to her parrot.
          The valley is surely a nice place, said Franiel not sure of what he should say.
          To the contrary. It’s full of marauders if you ask me, but for good reason. Uleÿa’s valley is a place not easily reached, and there are not many portals around here. No official ones at least… So in a sense, it’s an exchange of good will between me and them.

          Franiel was not sure he wanted to delve more into all this intricate political web of alliances and plots, no more than he wanted to be involved in religious beliefs and fanaticisms…

          I can see you are a little troubled, but you’ll find your place in all these events, assuredly, Phoebe said gently. But be certain that whenever you are wanting yourself out of them, you sure will find yourself right in the midst of them, without you even knowing it.
          I only want to be a good man, and do the least evil in this World, I suppose finally answered Franiel after an awkward moment.
          This, I am sure is true… You know, I’m a little bit of a witch, I mean, intuitive person, and I can pick up images from yourself. I’m not sure about some of them, but most of them are as clear as the waters of Uleÿa. Take your time to feel at home around here. Vincentius will answer you if you need anything, in any case better than Lydia or Derwent.
          But… I mean no offense here, dear Lady,… Vincentius is but a parrot, isn’t it?

          Phoebe sighed for a moment then took Franiel by the arm, so quickly and firmly he didn’t see it coming, and couldn’t move, hypnotised by the firm grip of the woman.

          Listen carefully, my friend. I can see you can be trusted, as much as your mind is thirsty for the truth, so I will tell you. Vincentius is no mere creature. He’s the result of a little experiment I had once with a former guest of mine. Another divine being, as pure and innocent as you, going by the same very name of this creature. I captured a spark of his radiant aura, and mixed it with an egg I had kept for the occasion. And so it was born. A perfect spy, as well as a faithful friend.

          Franiel recoiled in horror… What have you done?!

          Oh, don’t be so dramatic, my young friend Phoebe said with a little giggle. No one has been harmed, and even if at times, there seem to be some side-effect when my former guest seems to see or speak through my parrot, it all has gone very well… And no, I don’t intend to do it to you… Don’t give me silly ideas, ahahah.

          #850
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Stop it, STOP IT! Becky shouted, clamping her hands over her ears, It was a futile action, as the voices were inside her head, and not likely to be halted by her pointless automatic reaction.

            She lit a cigarette with shaking hands and picked up a magazine in an attempt to calm down. She opened the copy of Crisp at random, her eyes unfocused.

            I’ll think about this later, she said to herself, when I’m feeling a bit better. Relaxing her tense hunched shoulders, she focused on the glossy pages. She had opened the magazine to the Essencopes page, and read the Borledim forecast for the month ahead.

            That’s it! She said excitedly. I’ll change my alignment! I’ll change it to, um, let me think…..
            Becky sighed, muttering to herself, How on earth does one change ones alignment?

            You said you were going to ‘think’ about it tomorrow, said the voice.

            Bugger off, you. Becky snapped. Good point, though.

            She picked up Crisp again, this time noticing that the scopes were written by her old schoolfriend, Luce Mong.

            Luce! Well, I never! exclaimed Becky with a smile. Luce Mong! Last I heard she was in Long Pong with Leah Muir. I wonder where she’s living now?

            #846
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Crisp fluttered to the floor as Becky drifted off to sleep. She was having an odd dream, in which she was hugging Sam. I’m so glad you don’t drink Sam, she said, emotionally, in the dream.

              Well, I do have an occasional pint down at the Duck and Firken, you know, he replied.

              You know what I mean, Sam. All those years with Sean, hoping it would all work out…her dream voice trailed off sadly….

              Hey Becky, it wasn’t a waste! Look at all the lovely children you had!

              Becky felt her dream self smile ruefully. Well, it hasn’t exactly been a picnic either, you know….

              She woke up sweating and confused. Good grief, all WHAT children! What a dreadful nightmare!

              She was wiping the beads of sweat from her forehead when Sean popped his head round the door.

              I’m popping out for a beer, Becky, won’t be long.

              Holy Moly, Becky whispered under her breath.

              #844

              Hey, I’ve found a brownies carton wrap in the trash Yann!
              Mmm, and you really think it’ll be enough? a doubtful Yann answered to Yurick
              Oh, don’t worry, there’s also a couscous one, and an Ureu biscuit one, answered Yurick with a wide grin
              Well, if you say so then, smiled Yann, contemplatively rolling his eyes à la Finn.

              A few hours later, their patch-ckage solidly wrapped up, they had it sent to their friends.
              When, in the post-office, the big black lady with piercing eyes (drôlely resembling Rita, a friend of Dory Yann had seen in a dream who went wedding dress shopping recently) asked them if there was anything of value in the package, they almost burst out laughing.
              Yann had the mind to answer, only some stuff… as if of no consequence.

              #2024

              In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

              EricEric
              Keymaster

                Within window, lady angels wonder
                Pink show kept egg focused
                Funny smile Tracy moose
                Food focus
                Dreams given starting hope
                Word

                #834

                Five months.
                If he recalled well, it was barely five months (five months and five days perhaps) he’d had that dreamYurick was thinking distractedly, while munching on his toast of vegemoth, crumbs falling in his cup of lotus flavoured tuo-cha.
                Only five months! It had felt like ages had passed, lifetimes even…
                Energy realisations went really fast these days, once the prime idea was here. And for sure it had been floating around for quite some time, but truly it had been a quick birthing, and rather painless too.

                He was suddenly brought to his sense —and a certain idea of reality— when he saw Dory’s chat window flicker. He almost spluttered his tea on the screen as he saw the egg pictures she had just posted on her new social playground. A dark website of kinky appearance, where her new friends would probably guess eggs where her fetish and fifty-seven an exotic tantric position they’d be blissfully whipped with a wisp of fresh nettles to get taught.
                Well energy could take many shapes and forms, and for sure, five months ago, he wouldn’t have guessed one of these forms would be vegemoth and oval-shaped sex-toys.

                Speaking of vegemoth, he smiled as he saw the level of the dark brown salty paste noticeably diminishing in the small jar. Since he and Yann had been initiated by Dory to that strange Australian shamanic drug, and the unknown pleasures and twisted dream and trance induction it provides, they had been surprised to find it legally displayed for sell on their usual store at the exotic-mysterious-and-potentially-lethal-Eastern-products shelf. Along with an even stronger version of it, they’d been told… MARMOTH that Yann had consented they would get after the vegemoth would be eaten.

                Ahahaha… At that rate, that would happen before they know it!

                #832

                As Georges entered the cave, Malvina was aware of numerous smells around his body. Some of which were not of this world. These smells were reassuring and making her feel comfortable and secure. She could have stayed like that forever. She smiled.
                — Welcome my friend. From what I can sense of your energy you have something urgent to tell me.
                — I can not conceal anything from you old friend, as we can not conceal ourselves from the outer world. There are people around here and they are moving closer to our cave. We are at the outskirts of the Marshes of Doom as you are aware, and this era is a trouble one… Some warring Lords are expanding their kingdoms and I fear there is a unit of the army of one of them approaching dangerously. I do not fear for myself :) but if we stay too long they would find us.

                Malvina sighed silently.

                — Something has to happen before we leave. It is soon accomplished but we can’t move before that or we will loose Irtak and the twins. That is one of the reason why we came here first. We are moving again soon but not now.

                #828

                What really was Salitre’s mound? For most people around this valley, who had forgotten about the old times, it was nothing more than a rocky and steep piece of earth, barely good enough for Barbary sheep and piglets.
                In fact, when you were coming from the new macadamized roads encircling the mountains, it could almost slip unnoticed. But when, like Granny Mosca, you knew the paths for having worn countless shoes walking on them, you could no longer ignore the towering presence of this place.
                For her, it was a magical realm, a doorstep truly.

                Granny Mosca was the official owner of this place, though she preferred to think of it as being the gatekeeper.
                She kept a few animals up there, and went everyday here to feed them, pacing up and down the treacherous paths despite her old age.

                Something you couldn’t really realize until you first reached the top of the mound was that the mound was at the center of the valley, giving an impressive view miles and miles around. In that land of mountains, it could be just another peak among others, but when you were here, you knew it wasn’t.
                Granny Mosca had felt it many times, this surge of energy, almost as if there were streams flowing down the surrounding slopes, up to the top of Salitre’s mound. At special times of the year, it was like you could feel the dwellers of the past moving around… At this very spot were almond trees were now growing.

                Those tourists who came a few days ago where funny. Especially the blond woman, with the high-pitched laugh who had come a few times here already.
                For sure Granny Mosca didn’t fear that they discover anything, as the place had knew how to shroud itself without her for ages, even before she was born. In fact, it was the contrary. She was willing to share some of the secrets to people daring enough and open-minded enough to crack some of these nuts of wisdom.
                The land would tell them…

                That is… unless they left the bag of almonds to the dogs…

                #2023

                In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  FULL STEAM AHEAD towards THE ISLE OF fry! THE FERRY, full TO BURSTING, felt LIKE THE FUN HAD started. THINGS began GOING TO plan (following A FEW STERN looks OFF Bea ) AND THE postBOX WAS FULL. CareFULLY CHOSEN LIGHT AND dark symbolic QUESTIONS asked BY ALL, IT seems. EMO Yellow IS THIS YEARS BLACK. I googled IT. I kept GOING spaceY AMD smiled, clearLY waiting, although THIS week IS seeing CONNECTIONS multiply ON earth: let’S show THE dance WE knew AND OPEN THE door ……:yahoo_heehee:

                  #2022

                  In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                  EricEric
                  Keymaster

                    Within dark laughing, light smiled
                    Wondering synchs gibbon
                    Others behind walk
                    Mind moment wondered
                    connection stopped?
                    Although
                    Brought hand friends free.

                    #825

                    When he first witnessed how the traveling portals worked, Badul had been greatly impressed. No such magic existed on Asgurdy, and even though is was supposed to be a small portal, it was greater magic than anything his imagination could have devised.
                    He and his crew were so much impressed that Badul had required his small crew to settle down so that they can study further the thing. Tomkin had frowned a bit, as he was eager to continue and above all to leave this uncharted district ruled by a fierce warlord (or “governor”, as it was required to address him) in a moistly forest miles away from any living creature, but then again, Badul’s orders were not to be discussed.

                    The portal was constituted of a wide circle of heavy limestones, with two crossing arched vaults made of limestones too, with smaller blue stones incrustations of various shapes tucked into round holes regularly scattered along the vaults. These smaller stones could apparently be rearranged, and Tomkin and Badul quickly figured out they were used to determine the coordinates of the various places they would be traveling to. This portal, they’ve been explained had a set of other stones, ocher and dark red ones which were not part of the traditional set of the main network on the continent. Their design was not overly displayed as the others which were left on the portal at all times. They were carried on the spot by one of the generals of the local governor, and used under strict guidelines, for fear that the parallel network would be uncovered.

                    It took Badul a dozen of hexades to relinquish his fear of the unknown magic that made people disappear and reappear in thin air. He was a brave man, and that which he could see with his own eyes was no longer deemed irrational. It was very real, and he could use it. And there was no point in delaying the experience of it, as it was the only way for him to conquer his turmoil.

                    So, on that fine morning of the falling season, he decided to move. Genflik Thran, the local governor, had come to appreciate the help Badul and his men had provided him in loading and unloading the cargoes of goods which were banned on various parts of the Warring Kingdoms nonetheless traded on the black market with great benefits, and occasionally escorting them to some of the nearest villages. But the deal had been made clear from the start: he would allow Badul and his men to use the network in exchange of two hexades of service. In fact, they had repaid the debt largely already.
                    So he agreed to let them go on their journey and provided him and and his crew enough supply to continue their trip for quite some days. And as a token of appreciation, he allowed Badul to choose his destination, a privilege that was rarely granted, as usually people where glad to take whatever ship was about to depart.

                    Badul turned to Tomkin, wondering where they could go next.
                    “There are a few villages I heard of” Tomkin said after having pondered, “in the valleys down Mount Elok’ram. I heard this place is the tallest of the World, and is full of ancient powerful magic. Perhaps we can go to one of these villages, as I don’t think there is any portal on the top of the mountains.”
                    “Ahaha, yes, you’re right” had smiled Genflik Thran “I’ve been heard there is a monastery on top of this mountain, but no portal unless you go in the valleys. Not that they couldn’t have built one, but they thought it would soon become too crowded and… how did they said? Yeah, unholy… with the ease of a portal access. Now, perhaps that with the new Abbott, it will change… who knows. We already have approached him, and he seems a man with a nice sense of compromise, for the good of all, ahahaha!”
                    “What’s this village called?”, asked Badul
                    Chard Dut Jep “ answered Genflik Thran “I have a local contact there, a witchy woman, with some sense for business too, when you’re there, ask for her, people call her Madame Chesterhope. Just don’t forget to mention you are coming on my advise, or else the bitch might reserve you a trick or two of her own, ahahaha!”.
                    To Chard Dut Jep then!” cheered Badul, and his crew echoed with him.

                    #819
                    EricEric
                    Keymaster

                      A man was walking on the narrow path shaded by the tall pandanus trees.

                      Mahiliki was coming back from the sawmill where he worked, smiling to the people he met on his way back home. The island of Fikitupi was a small island in the Pacific, and he knew most of the people living around this small corner here.

                      An old wizened lady with a toupee was busy weaving pandanus dried leaves into baskets and mats on the front door of her small house, while children were running to and fro among noisy chicken all around the place.
                      Mahiliki smiled, fond as he was of Nanaiis, whom all children loved deeply, for she always had new tales for them to hear, and cheering words to share. She was quite intuitive, and had said to him years ago that his new girlfriend wouldn’t stay around and have lots of children.
                      He didn’t want many children anyway… but as Nanaiis had said, Vera had left, not without saying she would come back though.
                      Mahiliki didn’t count much on it, but he had all the time to wait for her. Life was calm and sweet here, and its appeal was great.

                      At a short distance, he could spot the hut of O’panié and Twahissi. They were some funny strange hoots these two. Twahissi was the light-haired niece of O’panié and she was sharing with him her love for otherworldly matters. Twahissi’s parents had left her in his care, when they left to open a shop in the main island of the archipelago, and frankly, Twahissy was far more comfortable staying in Fukitupi where all felt magic to her.

                      Mahiliki smiled when he finally understood they were trying to bury something near the culvert on the side of their hut. For apparently no reason, a month or two ago, O’panié had become interested in old papers and had become convinced that the date line was not only passing on the island of Fukitupi, but even more, it was passing right through his hut, and thus might explain his apparent sudden feelings of time loss.
                      Some educated people had tried to reason him, but he’d stood fast in his opinion. Sightings of rainbow bubbletons by his niece Twahissi had him convinced even further that there was the possibility to improve this technique of time-travel. For as he crossed the bedroom he could step one day forward or backward! How thrilling it all was!
                      Guess only the Elders knew what he was trying to bury now…

                      Mahiliki could not but agree with him, as they were giving the whole village some pleasant laughing, and he had to admit that his enthusiasm was winning him more and more people to his quest. He wondered what sweet Vera would think of all of that, Cartesian as she was…

                      #817

                      How restless that dragon is, thought Arona. Always shifting this or that, always talking in his damn riddles. She thought fondly of Buckberry, and how peaceful and content he seemed by comparison.

                      She was no longer sure where she was. She had gone over it a few times in her mind, but try as she might she could not make sense of Leormn’s cryptic explanations. Or that Malvina either, although at least she is a bit more pleasant about it.

                      Anyway, wherever it is, it feels a bit grey, she decided matter-of-factedly. And I am missing the others, even that grumpy Mandrake if the truth be told.

                      She closed her eyes and began to paint colours over the grey. She was not sure what to paint at first, so she just dabbed bright blobs of colour haphazardly onto her mind’s canvas. The colours began to run into each other and form shapes and it it seemed to her they wanted to take on a life of their own. So she let them, and it was not long before she found herself in a meadow of spring flowers.

                      That’s much better, she thought, taking a deep breath and lying back in the soft green grass.

                      :fleuron:

                      As she lay there her mind drifted sleepily, butterfly thoughts every now and then resting on some bright petal in her field of flowers.

                      Just living is not enough, said the butterfly as it danced by her head, one must have sunshine, freedom and a little flower.

                      Oh! said Arona excitedly, recognising the words from a far away time, You must be the butterfly of the story! The one my grandmother used to tell me when I was a little girl in the Village.

                      Perhaps I am! danced the butterfly and it whirled and twirled and swirled in the sky.

                      Arona rolled her eyes in exasperation. Now you sound a bit like that wriggly dragon. A simple yes or no would suffice.

                      The butterfly landed on her nose. Now listen here you! Don’t go blaming me. I am YOUR imagination!

                      Oh good point Butterfly, said Arona graciously. She pondered a moment … Well in that case …

                      And next moment Mandrake, Vincentius and Yikesy were sitting in the meadow with her.

                      Oh THERE you are Missy, said Mandrake. Might have known you would be lying around in some spring meadow leaving Vincentius and myself to look after your little sprog. Tsk Tsk, he tutted.

                      hmmm, thought Arona, that’s not quite what I had in mind ..

                      I would have said it’s exactly what you had in mind, whispered the butterfly, fluttering by her ear and then off again until it disappeared into the field of colours.

                      Arona turned her attention to Vincentius and Yikesy, sitting a short distance away in the meadow. She noticed how smooth and golden Vincentius’ skin looked in the morning sunlight, and how deep and melodic his voice was as he told Yikesy one of his seemingly endless repertoire of stories. Imagining a gentle hug and a kiss on his sweet, but it had to be said incredibly ugly face, she sent Yikesy into a peaceful sleep.

                      Oh great idea, smiled Vincentius with a wink. What I had in mind all along really. Perhaps you could also imagine Mandrake chasing a field mouse or something?

                      #815

                      Still no parcel from NZ in the mail… :kiwi: :weather-overcast: :weather-overcast: :weather-few-clouds-night: (mmm, looks like a prout kiwi)
                      Yurick almost laughed thinking it was quicker to mail stones and rusty keys…

                      Small parcel, gone for a long trip around the globe :www:, what a great adventure it was.
                      Miles and miles, and the ability to reach distant friends…
                      Perhaps they could try some kind of experiment, like sending a little book or a paper with a few words, and have it completed at each stage of its trip, with a count of the miles crossed… That would be another kind of exquisite story link between them… :yahoo_daydreaming:
                      That is, until they could figure out a way to turn into a little mouse able to travel into a mail parcel :creating_magic: :mouse: :buffoon:

                      #813

                      I am here to offer you my services in exchange for board and lodging Madame Chesterhope, said Franiel, deciding to tactfully ignore for now her rather odd remark regarding his reality.

                      Oh please, call me Phoebe. Phoebe smiled kindly at Franiel. Have you come a long way? Well really, I forget my manners. Sit down and I will prepare you a drink and some food. Then you can tell me your story and what has bought you here.

                      And so it was that just a short while later Franiel found himself ensconsed on the settee sipping hot mulled wine from a huge mug. What strange twists and turns life may take, he mused.

                      And whether it was the wine that loosened his tongue, or the kindly look in Phoebe’s eyes and the attentive way in which she nodded her old head so wisely, but he found himself telling her the most surprising things, as though she were an old friend he had known and trusted all his life.

                      Thus it was that it had soon been agreed that Franiel’s proposal would be a mutually beneficial arrangement.

                      It is as though you are an angel, laughed Phoebe, sent by God to help me, for it was weighing heavily upon me that there is much that needs doing. Dear Lydia who you met on the path, well what would I do without her, but she is not getting any younger, and Derwent …. her voice trailed off.

                      Well you are the second person to call me an angel, for I met Derwent earlier who also mistook me for an angel, but I am afraid I must disappoint you both, for I am a very ordinary mortal.

                      Oh I am not the slightest bit disappointed, smiled Phoebe. Here, she said, delving into the top drawer of a huge oak dresser, take these keys. I keep most of the rooms locked, for the place is so big and there is no need for all those rooms. Feel free to have a look around as you will. You will find your room prepared for you on the second floor, third room on the right.

                      Franiel was surprised and it must have showed on his face.

                      It is the room I keep ready for visitors. She chuckled. Most of the visitors I have here have no need of a place to sleep mind-you.

                      These are the others you spoke of earlier? asked Franiel,curious. At that moment though Phoebe’s attention was distracted. She looked towards the window, which was wide open though there was a chill in the late afternoon air.

                      Ah! there you are my lovely one! she cried, her face lighting up in delight as a large and colorful parrot flew in the window and landed on her shoulder.

                      The bird squawked and cast a steely gaze on Franiel.

                      Of course I will introduce you, said Phoebe calmly, Franiel, meet Vincentius.

                      #803

                      The room was chilly and silent when she awoke. The transition between her dream and the reality was like a cold shower on her aching body. It was still the middle of the night, even the guards were noiseless. She managed to bring her body close to the wall with the only window far above her head. Her thin clothes weren’t sufficient to keep the warmth into her flesh and she couldn’t restrain a shiver. How painful this could be after such a vivid dream.

                      She winced when one of her right thigh muscles decided to contract on its own and wouldn’t let go of the tensions. She tried to relax and breathe as deeply as she could, which made her cough repeatedly and that was even more painful. Still she could think. She was with that girl and her dragon again, Lola she was. Though that time the dragon was sleeping rather deeply. She could not blend her mind with her. The other was well shielded and she couldn’t communicate. Even her mind was a prison that she couldn’t communicate with her dream selfs.

                      There was that woman again, the Warrior Goddess, but they didn’t fight with her pupil as they usually did. She was more like a channel to another realm. Atiara could barely feel the presence of the others. They were too far in a way that she couldn’t comprehend.

                      Oh! Now she was remembering… hope.

                      After what had seemed hours of an exhausting fight with ghosts, the vividness of that dream had faded and she had found herself speaking with a young lad. What was his name? He was showing her different symbols, telling her that she had asked him in a dream once and that his friend Ewrick had now finished them. Yann had then showed her this set of symbols.

                      She had felt a different kind of power along with the smile of a blue man. Had she asked for this? She couldn’t remember. She had said to Yann that they were beautiful though she hadn’t the slightest idea of what they were. He had laughed and just said that she’ll know soon enough. And there was that guy behind Yann, with his mischievous look and his nine-tailed fox

                      All she could hope was that she would remember the set. It seemed important. Well important enough that she had forgotten her painful body consciousness for a few moments. The coldness of the stone under her bare feet was bringing her back to her gray reality. The storm was now closer but still not ready to release its power. She was waiting for it.

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