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    The door of the garage opened with a creaking sound, and Madame Chesterhope sped up into the gritty alley.
    In that dimension where she had hidden her command base, people were a bit sloppy about roads and tarmac, so she had designed a little modification on her machines to be able to levitate in some of the less practical areas; but she had to admit,… she loved the vibrations and bumps that the motorbike created with the friction of the ground surface.
    She started to giggle, all enthusiastic about the speed and the wind in her hair, that she ignored the road sign indicating that the road was flooded some miles ahead. The rain had been pouring cabbages all past hexades, so much so that her leather suit was in all honesty the best thing she could have worn, not to mention the fact of course, that it was making her totally sexy.
    Two peasants were coming her way, looking at her with wild eyes like they had just seen something otherworldly. Ahahah she laughed, the fools would soon have forgotten everything about it (another handy and sly magical modification she nodded to herself). Looking in her rear mirror, she could still see them wiggle their hands in a frenzy… What the fl…!


    On the road, the two peasants wondered what in the name of Shaint Lejus was that rider… But worse, it was heading straight to the pool that the swollen river had made recently, outpouring on fields and little sniggly and thorny paths, like this one. Making desperate signs to be seen and warn it, they watched in horror the black podgy thing with flabby flapping schpurniatz arms sink straight to the bottom of the pool.


    The landing was a bit bumpy, but she found her balance quickly. Those transdimensional puddles were a bit rough to get accustomed to, but once you knew how to manipulate it, you couldn’t forget it.
    Now, all she needed to got to the location she was heading to was to hop through a few more transdimensional puddles.
    Actually, all sorts of puddles could do the job, water puddles, even oil puddles… or run-over poodle puddles for that matter. She preferred water ones, for the quality of water was very fluid, and allowed for easier defocusing. Lately she had tried transdimensional exhaust fumes clouddles, but that was a bit disorienting more than helping.
    As far as she could tell, this first one had been projecting her to a dimension in between Earth and the Duane. Incorporating vibrational qualities of the two, with a little more rigidity though. The machine needed a little time to stabilize and get prepared for the next transdimensional jump.
    As far as she could tell, she was in a place that was not unlike her birthplace, in the countryside of England. There were occasionally some giveaways that she still wasn’t quite there yet, like an erratic flying schpurniatz, but she was close now.
    A few meters in front of her, she could see a lovely puddle that could do for the next jump. A bit small for her… well, motorbike, what were you thinking… but that would probably do it. She took another breath, then pushed the TDPP (Trans-Dimensional Puddle Propeller) button.


    Bugger, bugger…. What the bloody heck!

    Straw was flying all over her hair, and obfuscating her vision… Darn last puddle had to much mud in it, and her concentration went off for a split second, heading her towards a field of barley.
    Turning round and round for a moment in complete disorientation, she finally pushed the levitation button to take a little altitude.
    Oh, now,… at least she could tell she was in England, because she knew that place.
    How perfect! She could now just move into the dimension to the Pacific island. The GPS included in the modern expensive motorbike had been bipping as soon as it had found again the satellites, and it was now pointing the direction.
    Giggling again, she pushed a new button and disappeared into the sky in a supersonic puff of smoke.


    a few days later, Chestershire, UK

    AFP - 2008-07-21 - An new amazing design has been reported by eye-witnesses
    on a crop of barley of a local farmer along with reports of strange booming sounds
    and orbs of light. A sight to behold, the delicate intricacy of these interwoven
    patterns is believed by many to be the work of the Crop-circle Makers, some
    alien intelligence desiring to communicate with us. The theme of this crop-circle
    is thought to be a variation on planet Venus cycles, and would be highlighting
    the number of cycles lefts until the notorious end-date of Mayan calendar,
    Dec. 21st 2012. Scientists have brushed off the allegations of elderly pranksters,
    as this one seemed to have required levels of astronomical knowledge far beyond
    human intelligence.

    Madame Chesterhope went to the garage, to get one of her preferred modes of transportation.
    She had dressed for the occasion in black leather, shouting a spell in a hurry to the mirror which had been flippantly reflecting back at her some awfully podgy image. Voodoo mirrors weren’t the quality they used to be these days. Bloody buggers of Goblinkeas manufactors… She would have a word with them soon.

    There it was. A shiny Farley Travinston motorbike.
    With some magical modifications, of course, but it had retained overall form and purpose closely similar to the original design. How she loved those machines! She had started to gather them for centuries (in Earth way of counting time), and she could still remember her very first one, the wreck it was compared to this one
    Of course, she had no use for them, but wasn’t that the point of decadent treasure piling up?

    All geared up, she hopped on the seat, and started the trans-dimensional engine. Where was it already? Pacific island… That could sound like vacations she smiled to herself…


    Wow that had been bizarre! Veranassessee stood at the bathroom basin and splashed icy cold, reviving water on her face. She knew she’d had sex with Agent Gabriele … however the experience had a slightly surreal quality, not unlike a dream, details slipping elusively away from her as she tried to grasp hold of them. She giggled nervously as she dried her face with a towel. Did she really want to remember? She had just passed Agent Gabriele in the corridor and he had winked at her, saying he couldn’t wait to try the ‘reverse cleaning maid ‘ again. A sudden image came to mind and she saw her skin darken in the mirror as a hot wave of embarrassment flooded her. Good Grief! She thought guiltily of Mahiliki. She hoped the other island had not been too badly affected by cyclone Ycart, so far it seemed Tifikijoo had come off quite lightly.

    Veranassessee had already checked on the guests, Jose Maria and Paquita were still in their room, Mavis was huddled under her bedding and informed her in a muffled voice that Sha and Glor had gone looking for her.


    Well she’s not in her bloody room so where is she eh? Gloria and Sha were on the warpath, determined to get some answers from Veranassessee.

    ‘Ere, Sha! Bloody hell! Glor shook her head in disbelief.

    What’s up Glor?

    Bloody magpies … there are bloody magpies in ‘ere!

    What! Nasty little buggers those magpies. Poke yer bloody eyes out if yer aint careful.

    ‘Ere what they up to eh? Bloody hopping all over that whats-a-ma-callit-doo-dacky machine.

    They’ll be going for the shiny bits I reckon. They do that those magpies. ‘Ere we’d better stop them, might never get our bloody beauty treatments if they bugger that machine up.


    A few moments later she was not so sure.

    What’s the matter?

    Oh you know … I am a bit distracted …too much going on I guess. She did not want to tell him that she could feel the presence of Mahiliki strongly in the room, his sweet trusting face gazing reproachfully at her. He would be worried about her, worried about the storm. She wondered how he was getting on.

    I understand, he smiled ruefully, it’s hardly perfect timing is it? Anyway that wasn’t the reason I asked you to meet me here, but I guess it just seemed like too good an opportunity to miss.

    I am sorry, she said, rolling her eyes.

    Maybe some other time. He handed her a robe.

    Sure. She wrapped it tightly around her. Anyway, the Doctor?

    All taken care of. I left Nurse Bellamy administering warm coconut milk, unbeknowst to her laced with a sedative. The Doctor will be peacefully sleeping for at least 24 hours.

    And Jarvis?

    Jarvis is an opportunist, but not dangerous. He was employed by the Doctor as a bodyguard, but has since changed sides. He is now working as a spy for the Magpies.

    The Magpies?

    Your hunch was right. The Magpies are operating on the Island, and they plan to strike soon.


    Sha was gazing dejectedly at herself in the mirror. Glor what d’ya reckon. Are all these bloody beauty treatments working or wot?

    Course they are!

    They looked at each other. Well, maybe it’s a bit soon to tell eh? she said doubtfully.

    Mavis! Sha shook the lump covered completely by blankets huddled on the bed. Come on Lovey, the storm won’t urt you. What d’ya reckon Mavis, ‘ow do we look?

    A dishevelled head popped out. You both don’t look no bloody different to me, ‘cept you’ve put weight on, she said honestly.

    Well that bloody does it, said Glor, We’d better find that Vessie, find out wots wot!


      After a look in her mirror, Patricia M knew she was perfect.
      Her honey blond hair was enhancing the fascinating power of her green copper gaze.
      She pouted outrageously and put some more lip gloss on. Yes, she was highly satisfied with her appearance.
      She stretched her short tightly fitting deep pink dress and admired her silhouette. A surge of excitation filling up her body.
      She was ready to do her next move.


        Becky huddled behind a bush, shivering, and trying desperately to pull down the ridiculously short dress she was wearing.

        I can’t believe I came out wearing my honeymoon outfit, she grumbled crossly. No wonder that Gondola man kept sniggering and pulling his sweater down to his knees. PFFFT! The only nasty habit around here is not looking in the f’kin’ mirror before I leave the house.

        Becky tried to phone Al again, and then events took a turn for the worse. Her phone battery was dead.


        Vessie Darl, Sha and I are just popping down to the beach for some more of them special beauty sea waters you told us about.

        Great idea, Gloria, responded Veranassessee vaguely. She watched absent-mindedly as Gloria’s generous body, clad only in a skimpy red bikini, disappeared down the corridor. There was something about that shade of red tugging at her memory. Vermillion red …

        Red! PLAN B! Oh my God! how could she have forgotten!

        It was two days since she had called him, that meant he would be here soon, that did not leave her much time to prepare.


        Everything has to be perfect. She wears a silk vermillion red camisole, the one he gave her, scarcely covered by lush black velvet and topped with bright red lipstick. She casts her eyes critically around the room. It is nearly three years since she has seen him, she doesn’t want to spoil this moment. The glasses of soft red merlot are ready, a plate of miniature liqueur chocolates on a plate by the bed.

        She shakes out her long dark hair and looks in the mirror. Her chocolate skin glows, her eyes are bright. She will do. She touches the red silk camisole … it is still beyond her comprehension how she can have forgotten.

        When he arrives he is beautiful. Too beautiful. she thinks. It is so easy for him, effortless. He appraises the room and laughs casually, he knows how hard she has tried. Agent V he says, a pleasure to see you again. He kisses her. She remembers everything.

        He takes a sip of the wine. She watches him, unsure of herself. He has a black bag with him.

        He looks at her, sees her looking at the bag, and smiles slowly, I have something to show you, Agent V, he says, and she can sense his pride, the barely suppressed excitement in his voice.

        He opens the bag carefully, pulls out a small white box, handles it lovingly. Two years experimentation in the Russian lab, he says softly, delicate threads of spun blue bonnet spider silk and yet strong enough to hang a bridge on.

        He looks at her. Come here. he says

        She hesitates for just a moment thinking of Mahiliki, and then inwardly shrugs, bugger it, I never really wanted to live on Fukitupi island and have loads of babies anyway. She moves over to him. He takes the transparent silk and slowly starts to wind the delicate thread around her wrists. Try and break it, he whispers in her ear, kisses her neck.

        Then stops.

        My God, what the fuck is that?

        Veranassessee sighs.


        No I swear Sha, I am telling you, I saw him go into Vessie’s room.

        Oh my God Glor, he might be a murderer, or a bloody rapist even!

        I tell you though, he were right bloody gorgeous.

        Well never mind that! The door is locked Sha. I think we’d better shout out. Make sure she’s okay.

        Right, good idea. And then if she doesn’t answer we can bash the door in and we can both pounce on him.

        Right, on the count of three Glor, we’‘ll shout out, one… two… THREE!”


        Becky felt revitalized somewhat after breakfast, and decided to go for a walk. Sean was still snoring and mumbling in bed, so she pulled some clothes out of the closet quickly and climbed into them quietly, unable to see clearly in the dark.

        If the pile of wedding gifts on the dining room table hadn’t attracted her attention, she might have looked in the hall mirror, but as it was, she didn’t. It wasn’t until much later, a long way from home, that she realized what she had donned that morning.

        Becky picked up the doll that Patel had given her and grinned. She couldn’t have chosen a more entertaining husband for her mother if she’d chosen him herself. He was such a delightful practical joker, a real hoot, and Becky was very fond of him. She frowned as she turned the strange doll round in her hand, not quite sure what the joke was yet. She was quite sure there would be a laugh in it somewhere though.

        Well, time will tell, she murmured, and headed out of the front door to hail a gondola cab. Shivering as she waited, she thought happily of the honeymoon in Sri Lanka the following week. Becky wondered if they might extend the trip, and visit Sam in Australia.

        F LoveF Love

          oh that’s a fantastic idea Becky! encouraged Tina, when Becky suggested tentatively that perhaps she could try advanced visualisation techniques in order to turn this disastrous start to her wedding day around.

          Yes, imagine it as you would like it to be, no matter how unrealistic it may seem. Imagine looking in the mirror and seeing your skin glowing like a glowing peach. After all, you have nothing to lose Becky-pooh.


            Oh, Thank Flove for that! exclaimed Becky delightedly, when she looked in the bathroom mirror on the morning of her wedding. The Siberian Blue Mud treatment worked!

            WOW! said Becky as she peered at her reflection. It’s made me look fantastic!

            Indeed, her skin was glowing like a summer peach. She smiled happily and sighed a deep sigh of contentment. She was glad she’d chosen Tina to be the Head Witness for the Russian style wedding ceremony. She knew she could trust her to carry out the ritual joke and poem telling with aplomb. Al and Sam would make great witnesses too. She couldn’t wait to hear their jokes and poems at the wedding party.

            Becky giggled, And Sean will love all the drinking.


              New Venice, February 2034

              Al had finally completed his body experiments. The results were encouraging, and would probably help understand more of some bodily processes.
              Obviously he’d had some fun with them, these past few years —it was a nice way to learn more about himself, and to bring some of that knowledge to other people. Essentially, it was mostly to show them that what centuries of so-called “modern medicine” had done was to make them defiant of their own bodies. The mass creations of all these diseases not so long ago was still very much embedded into people’s imaginations. How ironic was that most of these diseases were coming from the body itself.
              So, what Albert was doing in his experiments was to push the limits to show how greatly adaptive the body structure was. It was nothing different than what scientists of the last decennia were doing on laboratory rats with many uncouth cocktails of injections —except that the trigger was for the most part an internal projection, no needing great amounts of artificial adjuncts.
              Becky’s sudden and impressive illnesses, shortly before her wedding had not worried him too much, because he knew that at times the body needed to adapt to new settings and environments, albeit not always physical ones.
              Another thing he knew well enough for having experienced it was that distrust was the most difficult part during this adjustment process. Distrust of the body, of self and of course of others. It was a delicate subject and most of their ancestors way of tackling the subject had been to reinforce the distrust in one’s own body. Pills and antibiotics could do wonders, but they were not that innocuous when they were used as ways to tell one’s own body it was not behaving the way it was supposed to be. As far as the symptoms were sometimes elusive, their physical effects could be quite unpredictable, depending on the patient’s state of mind.

              That reality play they were all writing to record their various connections has always been great fun. They had been toying with the idea of great changes, new frontiers of the mind and spirit and expansion of their consciousnesses.
              It had started during Becky’s infancy, were she was inspired by her step-mother and a bunch of her friends who were doing all kind of meditations and strange “imaginary” stuff. And two years ago, she had found old digital archives and had been amazed at some of the changes that had occurred during so few of the past years of her own existence, much of them mirroring these “imagined” changes.
              So, she had enlisted Sam, and Al and Tina to join in that reality play, to continue the projection into that “Shift” of the mind and see how farther it would take them.

              But there was something that Albert had always found a bit far-fetched was Becky’s confidence in such strides in their expansion of the mind. Doubtlessly he was acknowledging that things were changing —the last discoveries in how magnetic fields affected DNA and thus the bodies had been even compelling enough to have scientists reassess their stance on how DNA and evolution of species worked. But he doubted that everything would be a perfect utopia. And pain was such an inherent and useful part of their human experience that he was not conceiving how any consciousness expansion would get rid of it.

              So, back to Becky’s illnesses which were mirroring his owns, a great deal of them was also about accepting that pain not as a flaw in the way they were creating their reality, but as something real, useful as a mechanism of feed-back. Accepting it didn’t meant cherishing it and holding dearly to it, it merely meant they had to recognize it as a way of the body to bring back the diverted awareness into the body. Well, Al wasn’t sure it would always be necessary to have it, but for the moment, the species was not entirely accustomed to being present into the body. Perhaps when it learns that, pain wouldn’t be necessary…
              To reassure Becky, he had reminded her of how as a child she had grown teeth, and that had been perhaps one of the weirdest most disturbing and painful experience children experience in relation to their bodies, but her parents had been telling her all along it was just growing. She just had to trust her body knew better. Or like Krustis the clown was saying, it sure won’t help a man if he notices a thumping sound in his chest to have it stop…

              Well, in a few days time, it would be Chinese New Year. The large Chinese population of New Venice made it a very loved holiday, and Becky and Sean had decided to wed on that day, February 19 th where they would all step into the year of the Tiger.

              How funny, Al was thinking, leaning over the railing of the balcony, looking at the sunset reflecting over the waters… These funny people that Becky had known in her infancy, the original FGF, they had seen New York under waters in their meditations… And that yellow car…
              They had discussed a lot about this event, and some had been disquieted by that fact, fearing some impeding catastrophe. But all in all it had been a smooth occurrence. Authorities had been aware of the issue, and though they did not yet know all the mechanisms at play, they had been preparing some measures to avoid the city being flooded.
              There had been lots of debates, as most politicians were advocating of building of dams to prevent the rising sea levels to enter the city.
              But the studies of Dutch experts had been the most convincing, and New York City official soon decided to follow the example of the implementation in Netherlands of moving and adapting structures, constructions of buildings and plains liable to be flooded, and even buildings and roads construction on stilts structures, which Dutch had come over time to prefer to the dams, no matter how technically efficient…
              Another imagery of adapting structures with the flow…


              In the flying car, Al was mentally reciting mantras and drawing symbols, and was distractedly participating in the conversation which he could follow thanks to telepathic transfers he grasped from his friends conversations.
              His gums were now much better, and he had recovered a wonderful smile with shiny pearl-white teeth.

              The car interior was now a bit small for them five, and Tina’d had to press herself on Al and Becky, who was almost disappearing in her boubou full of folds, her head wedged against the hat and the hat against the roof of the car.

              Can’t we get some air in there? asked Tina, who was feeling she needed to breathe more.
              Err… Let me check

              Sam’s friend was looking clumsily at some buttons for one to release the hood.

              Watch out! Becky cried, propping up her hat which had fallen on her eyes.

              They had narrowly missed a bunch of balloons floating in the middle of the buildings.

              Jeeze! It’s no better than the submarway this thing… Becky was being fidgety at everything and was wishing for the whole wedding preparations to soon be over.
              Is that a frog we hear? asked Armando who had finally released the hood, having Becky clutch her hat, as well as little Chump, with the strong wind now blowing on their heads.
              WHAT? FLOG A TIRE? Tina was shouting now, seeing now all the benefits of being able to telepathically communicate…

              A click on a button. The hood was again put on top of the car.
              Bit too noisy, hey? said Armando
              Well, didn’t really mind said Albert dreamily

              Oh dammit! Is there a damn frog in that car’s engine or what? Armando was stressed.

              Tina looked at Sam in the rear-view mirror and spluttered affectionately. Al had just mentally expressed he was experimenting with new yeast actions in his digesting system, and that there was some minor inconveniences on which he would have liked some discretion… His belly was swelling funnily and making gargoyling noises…

              Ahahah, a frog… perhaps even a blue-bullfrog with all that frogging noise! Tina was feeling surprisingly exuberant.


                “Of course, as soon as they had stepped into the powerful magnetic field generated inside the T.R.A.P., the reality around them was transphormed as if they all had been into a huge deFørmiñG mirror, that they could shape with their strangest thoughts.

                Obviously, they had all started to hallucinate some funny stuff…

                It was happening so quick, Sam noticed.”

                Hahahah! Becky actually laughed out loud. Sleepily, she hoped she’d remember to make a connection between the sheriffs frog accident and the T.R.A.P. trip when she was feeling more alert.


                  I’m starting a new discussion if you find some interesting message in the Word Cloud of our energy deposits.
                  Or poems, or nonsense…

                  Feel free to indulge :p

                  From wikipedia on scrying : Scrying or crystal gazing is the occult practice of using a medium, most commonly a reflective surface or translucent body, to aid perceived psychic abilities such as clairvoyance. The media often used to “see” are water, polished precious stones, crystal balls, or mirrors.


                  Jose Maria stood sadly in front of the plate glass window. He avoided looking in mirrors, tried to forget his disfiguring scars, but occasionally he caught sight of his reflection in a window, and it always came as a shock. He avoided leaving the finca as much as possible, but had felt obliged to visit his frail and aged mother in the Residencia old folks home. His uncle Juan had come trundling up the dirt track to the farm in his clapped out old Citroen van, with the news that Josefina was expected to die within the week, and Jose Maria had agreed to make the trip into town.

                  A pointless trip really, Josefina hadn’t recognized him, had called him Sally at first, and tried to kiss him; and then later she’d shrunk from him in fear, calling him Pierre.

                  Three days later Josefina was dead. Jose was required to make another trip into town, much to his dismay, to the funeral. He stood quietly at the back during the ceremony, next to his cousin Paquita, who was attempting to hide a bad case of acne behind her long black hair. Jose Maria smiled at her kindly, and she smiled gratefully back.

                  Paquita and Jose stayed close to each other for the rest of the day, and Paquita’s family invited Jose to spend the night at their apartment in town. Jose hesitated, but when he noticed Paqui’s hopeful expression, he relented and accepted courteously.

                  Long after the rest of the family had gone to bed, Jose and Paqui sat on the balcony overlooking the industrial estate and the superstores, in companiable silence. Jose’s scars, and Paquita’s acne no longer visible in the darkness, they had both relaxed, and wondered vaguely why they’d never really noticed each other before.

                  Paqui broke the silence. Well, you’ll have no worries now about money, Joselito.

                  What do you mean? asked Jose.

                  Well, Josefina won the lottery, and you’re her only child, Jose, it will all be yours.

                  Jose’s mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. Lottery? Oh you must be mistaken, my mother doesn’t have any money. WHAT lottery win?


                  Mmmm, Captain,… isn’t that legend a bit long-winded? Tomkin had asked to Captain Bone.

                  It had been six nights now that the Captain had told bits of that legend to Tomkin, and even if it was entertaining, Tomkin was more and more impatient to get back to meatier stuff, like galleons full of ancient magical treasures, corsairs from the Warring Kingdoms coasts, strange unknown races from far-off lands… that would be more mouth-watering than this endless legend…

                  Captain Bone had laughed.

                  — Aaaaah, Tomkin… of course you know I like to tell long stories, and make them longer each time I recall them, but you see, there is also a point in all of that adventure. Mævel’s story is also the story of all of us in a way. Of course, I could tell you how it ends, but in a way it never really ends. More important is for you to see it unfold and that you appreciate the unfolding. The ending is not important in a way. Each and every time this story is recalled, it is different, because it adapts to what is happening right now. Do you see?
                  — So what is the point of telling me that story? It was supposed to tell me something about this strange knotted object, but I don’t see any link.
                  — Ahahahaha, the point is precisely that Tomkin. I am telling you my story, but this object makes you hear your own story through my words.

                  Now, Tomkin Sharple was squatting on the sand near the bonfire lit by Badul’s crew, and he was recalling the words from the Captain. At that time, when he didn’t know a thing about that strange magical object, he had not understood a thing of what the Captain had said.
                  But now, it started to make sense, some sense at least. Each time the Captain had told him bits of the legend, Tomkin had been fidgeting the strange object, making the Captain smile. Perhaps the object’s magic was not only acting as a translation device…
                  There was something more about it. He was no longer sure that the Captain’s story had been what he was recalling. Perhaps it was completely different, and he had translated it…
                  Still, the object had apparently helped him understand what Badul and his men wanted, so it was translating truthfully. But what was a faithful translation?

                  Then, a flash came into Tomkin’s mind. The Captain had given the object to him. He’d said it was about connections. Being connected.
                  Till then, Tomkin had been the only one to touch it. He had not even revealed the source of his gift to Badul.
                  But in the Captain’s case, both of them had been touching it. In sharing that link, they had extended trust to each other, and somehow, they had been mirrors for each other. Perhaps that was what Captain Bone meant when he said that Tomkin was hearing his own story through the Captain’s words.

                  Tomkin laid down on the warm sand, looking at the clear starry night.


                  — The legend of Mævel — (Part VI)

                  Inside the warm burrow, Mævel found a bed of dry leaves and tender moss. She could see some light from the moon, coming through holes in the ground, which were bringing in some fresh air too. Cuddling comfortably into the makeshift bed, she started to sleep peacefully, waiting for her friend the blue fox to come back.


                  Half-asleep on the beach, Tomkin was wondering… What had happened the next morning… This was fuzzy in this memory, as if the events were moving and reorganising themselves. All that he remember was that Mævel had met the blue fox, but there were myriads of possible events, and all of them were possible, dancing now in front of him.
                  He could chose any of them… But, would that make the story the same?
                  Then he recalled that it was his own story… So why make it difficult then…

                  The voice of Captain Bone was resounding in his ear “You find value in hardships, and value is important to you and our kind. In these lands full of magic, we could just do anything, but somehow you’ll find that rare are the people who constantly use magic. Because when magic is used to make things happen instantaneously, it shifts everything around it to accommodate the changes asked by the summoner of the magic. And it can be overwhelming when too big are the differences between the too states, as we are accustomed to live within a continuity. That’s why I tell you to enjoy the ride of that legend.
                  Think of it… You could be Emperor of all Lands if you knew how to use magic for such a feat. But would you do that instantaneously? Slim chances. You wouldn’t know how to behave as an Emperor, and on top of that, you probably would find the new aspect of you who is an Emperor to be overwhelming to your present aspect of little Tomkin.”

                  Okay, Tomkin said… No need to skip directly to the last part… she meets the blue fox in his den, and Mævel learns about the curse of the fox.


                  — Oh, really? Mævel was saying
                  — Yes, I was a bit of a fool… the blue fox was telling her. But, the silver lining is that there is a way to counteract the curse. But I will need your help again, if you want.
                  — I want to help you.
                  — Fine. You know about Shaint Lejüs Festival?
                  — Mmm, yes, my parents told me about that. It’s the Day of the Forgotten, isn’t it?
                  — and of the Accursed Ones.
                  — Oh…
                  — That special day of the year, the Gates of Lejüs’ Realm are opened and Forgotten and Accursed Ones are given a chance to be Remembered or Graced.
                  — Every year? Why then aren’t all of them Remembered?
                  — Mostly because the Living Ones dread this day. They are the only ones to be able to free the Demanders, and they quickly felt haunted by the Demanders. So they did rituals to keep the Demanders away from them, as certainly your human parents did.
                  — Yes, I remember now…
                  — There is another reason actually. Forgotten Ones can only be Remembered when they recover their true name, and only a strong bond like love or some potent magic can force it out of Lejüs’ graps.
                  — And Accursed Ones?
                  — For them to be Graced, they need to do one pure act of altruism.
                  — A simple act?
                  — Don’t be fooled, it’s not as simple as it seems. See, I tried to rescue a woman who was drowning herself into the river, but that hunter thought I was attacking her… The fact was that she was willing to be Forgotten, and that my act was not purely altruistic.
                  — How so? You probably saved her life?
                  — Yes, but that was not what she wanted, and when she cried that I let go of her, I only wanted her out of the waters, because of me…
                  — I understand. And how can I help?
                  — One altruistic act for me would be to help a Forgotten One to be Remembered. That’s what they ask for, but it’s difficult for them to get past the barriers of the Living Ones.
                  Shaint Lejüs Festival is tomorrow…
                  — Yes, have as much rest as you need, Mæ. We will see tomorrow what will occur…


                    Of course, as soon as they had stepped into the powerful magnetic field generated inside the T.R.A.P., the reality around them was transphormed as if they all had been into a huge deFørmiñG mirror, that they could shape with their strangest thoughts.

                    Obviously, they had all started to hallucinate some funny stuff…

                    It was happening so quick, Sam noticed. Sean’s breath was smelling of whiskey, and Sam felt Sean had forgotten something on his way to New York. He felt compelled to ask him if there was something on his mind…
                    — Peregrine!
                    — Who’s that?
                    — Oh, he will be so disappointed… Sean started to sob. I’m such a bad father!

                    Sean couldn’t find a composure. Hopefully, Becky wrapped her sensual arm around his shoulders, and hugged him tenderly.

                    — Hey, look, she said, the children are more adept at these games than we are,… if we want, we can have him project here from his bedroom and share the fun with us. What do you reckon?

                    And she started to yell:

                    — Peeeeerrrry ! Peerrrry !


                      Then she had an idea. She went into the bathroom and got a new razor out of the packet. She paused for a moment, but only a moment, and then took a deep breath.

                      Ten minutes later she surveyed her new look in the mirror. Bald as a coot, and so CUTE! Her delicate elfin features were perfectly suited to the new sleek streamlined style. Becky rummaged in her trinket and jewelry box, and selected some chunky silver Tuareg earrings to compliment the new style, applied deep cranberry red lipstick, and chose a vibrant multicoloured silk dress.

                      Wow! Becky had to admit she looked absolutely stunning.

                      F LoveF Love

                        Tina had been wondering if she wanted a child , and was considering the personal and ethical implications of this. There had been much discussion in the Reality Times recently of placing restrictions on the number of children couples could have, in order to counteract the growing population problem. This had been discussed many times over the past years, however the issues involved were becoming more pressing. People may be required to apply, and undergo suitability testing, if they wished to be parents. Areas such as any past criminal history, alcohol dependency issues, etc, may automatically exclude one from eligibility for parenthood. This was being hotly debated again, with many feeling it was violation of their personal freedom.

                        She asked Becky what she thought. Becky was looking in the mirror and pulling faces.

                        Oh doesn’t worry me. Yikes! I don’t want any horrid little rugrats anyway. Give me dogs any day. Do you like my new haircut Tina?


                          Yann had been having these strange dreams and impressions since he’d been in that cave during his last trip to Scotland. In the cave he had that strange impression of a dragon roaring, but he’d rationalized that with the noise of the falls, it was quite deafening. It’d been raining for so much time that the amount of water streaming through that cave was amazing… the visits had been suspended because they feared floods and they couldn’t really explore the cave then. All he could do then was picking up a pebble for Fiona, a pebble he had still to send her :D

                          After that, he’d had the weirdest impression to be observed by dragons… they felt quite big, and event though he tried to tell himself it was some effect of his imagination, he was still uneasy about that.

                          The imagery of dragons had continued with his discussion with Quintin, who told him he had drawn that very cave… in which there were dragon eggs and their keeper. A strange harper woman. When he’d been shown the painting, Yann had that feeling of déjà vu, and the kid attending the newborn dragon on the upper right of the picture had aroused an intense desire to do that very action.

                          “The tunnels had been changed again”, he thought first.

                          That weird thought made him laugh and he couldn’t tell to Quintin why… yet.

                          And last week there was his friend Anastasia who was coming back from a trip to Budapest where she had seen so many dragons in the hotel, in the museums, and there was that parade, they were calling that the dragon’s parade, and it was music and parties all the Saturday night. She enjoyed that tremendously. She even told him she had the impression of being a dragon when looking in the mirror right after that night.

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