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Georges and Salome’s journal

From Salome’s account of her introduction to the Turmak People (Part 3)

Cil and I have stayed on the Murtuane longer than was required for the report on the events occurring here. Though it was not required, it proved invaluable for me to gather much information on both the planet itself, but more important, on the interconnections with the other planets and the Guardians themselves.

A pivotal point in this exploratory mission was the impressive encounter with one of the few still focused Nirguals of this dimension. N’meôrl, as he introduced himself to us, out of concern for the current events came to contact Cil despite his looking askance at the Guardians on the whole.
As it appears to be, due to their acute awareness of how energy can be manipulated to create one’s own reality, some of the Guardians became to view themselves as superior in knowledge and skills as to the other conscious creatures roaming on this dimension —most of whom already having far more understanding of things deemed “magical” in my own earthly dimension of origin. However, viewing themselves as such (though by no means the standards in the Guardians societies) had them manipulate some of these others; mostly to entertain themselves or to experiment, without concern as to the others’ reactions.

Frown upon by many Guardians, this practice was tolerated notwithstanding, and had created a few pockets of what the Guardians called “slaves”. Inquiring to Cil as to how people with such thin veils between their subjective creative source and the objective realizations could become “slaves” to others, she had struggled a bit to explain to me at first. Allowing her to reach into my awareness for associations or analogies with similar energetic displays, she surprised me —surprised is even a mild word for my initial reaction— by telling me it was the same as our religions. Struggling initially to understand her point, I find myself, if not entirely agreeing with it, at least being able to explain what she meant by that. To her, people were ultimately free unless they themselves were tricked into bondage. But bondage could be of various nature, and she continued to explain, physical bondage was the less efficient of all. “Guidance”, on the opposite, with the proper construction of suggestions and beliefs, could yield very efficient results.
So, those “rogue” Guardians were nothing else but priests? The difference between this association and Cil’s distaste for them seemed too strong. Perhaps I would have to reassess my own beliefs.

So, apparently some of these Guardians had been responsible for disturbances. Cil seemed to understand that something grave was happening, but when she tried to explain to me, once again words or clusters of thoughts seemed to fail her. She found in my memory some analogy which seemed again quite besides the point, though very intriguing.
She said it was similar to what our medicine men were doing with their needles. She probably had reached into my memories of traditional acupuncture medicine. She went on to compare the planets as a single body, with bumps and hollows in energy; usually, the body knows how to harmoniously balance both of these, and a bump can reflect into a hollow and vice-versa. Sometimes, when people create illnesses, the practitioner will move these to help. But something else was happening here: the flow was artificially changed, she said.
“What was the point in that?” I asked. She pondered for a moment, then answered without judgment that it was probably for the sake of the experience.
“The Nirgual is mostly warning us that this experience may not lead to an equilibrium before long. That it may profoundly modify the energy on the planets, and not for the better. The Murtuane and its Turmak people have mostly had a stabilizing impact on the very energetic events happening on the Duane. Modifying this could quickly take things out of our hands” she said worriedly.

Arona was fretting.

“Now, what is this all about? Can someone explain me? The purple sand is pretty, the green sky too, however it looks just like an insane dream from a deranged mind having abused smoke of robjane leaves.”

Framing Irtak —who was having a funny pout on his face— the dragons Heckle and Jeckle were too busy considering with an amused attention the new form and energy field that their progenitor had taken.

No words were spoken to answer Arona’s plea for answers, but answers were starting to come to them in the form of a bundle of energy which would be difficult to translate in a linear manner.

They started to understand a few things. That for one, N’meôrl the Nirgual was not here by chance, at this place and time. Again, they had travelled far in the past of the history of their dimension, and events of great importance were in motion, that they were given to witness.

At first, the flow of information they were having was like a stream they thought they had no control of, but as questions were forming they noticed that it was altering the flow which was then encompassing the answers to those questions.

Like when Jeckle wondered if he and his twin had big birdies counterparts like this one to merge with, and got the following answer “No. For you are quite new essences fragments, and thus do not yet hold focuses in similar extent to your progenitor.”

Arona was quite pleased by this new mode of getting answers, especially as she could visibly get the answers she was genuinely looking for, not those coming from questions she was only remotely interested in.

N’meôrl was showing them also, that unlike him, they were not quite physically focused into that environment, and were not noticed by the small surrounding creatures like the little red scrabs crawling in the sand. They were mainly there to observe and draw their own conclusions, as soon some events would occur.

As they’d finished absorbing the information, they started to notice a feeling of expectation in the air. N’meôrl conveyed to them that they would have to stay quiet in his peripheral awareness for “they” were coming, and he was on a delicate mission.

Footsteps on the beach.
A man approaching. He looks like Irtak and Arona, as if he had just come into this alien world from the same door they had taken. But he fails to notice them.

He stays, facing the deep green waters of the ocean brushing the shore, as if expecting someone.

A strange buzz starts to fill the space. A point of focused light the size of a pinhole appears in front of him, expands quickly with an elastic quality, and pops with a soft sound, revealing an improbably tall figure under a cloak.

The man greets the new-comer with deference
“Master Sinadron”
“Jarvis, my good friend.”

They start to walk on the beach at the unspoken invitation of the one with the smooth voice named Sinadron.

“So, I’ve been told our little matter is going very well.”
“Yes, very well, Master; I am deeply grateful for your intervention; without your help I’ve been told, my dear would not have been allowed to…”
“Let’s not talk of such things any longer; it was such a delight to help two sweet young souls so deeply in love”

Somehow, despite the words of kindness which are slithering with ease, the invisible witness got the uncanny feeling that they are but a deceptive fragment of the truth.

“Now. Tell me”, the one named Sinadron continues in a mellifluous voice “Why have you called me for?”
“The settlement you have suggested us to start on this land…”
“Yes, I am aware, please go to the point instead of labouring things I am well aware of.” The voice had sharpened a bit.
“I am sorry Master.”
“Continue”
“There is a growing dissent that…”
“And from who that shall come?”
“Err… I hear Pelorus has spoken to the Zentauras…”
“Pelorus is but a nuisance.” The voice wasn’t asking for contradiction, though an imperceptible grin was floating on the half-hidden face.
He continued “But I shall help you, once again”
“Master, you are too generous…”
“Let me finish. I will provide you with more men and women, willing to start a new life under your command, to help you grow your settlement. There are a few slaves on the Duane, that place from where you come who will do great.”
“Master…”
“They will be there in an hexade. Make sure you stand your ground until then, even if that means confronting those nasty Zentauras.”

And without waiting for the confused thanks, he disappeared, grinning widely.

After he sent his reply to Yann, Yurick took a deep breathe in appreciation of all that had been done the last past days.

However tedious, all in all, it had allowed him to stay away from other people’s trauma, and stay focused on his own issues. Now, the feeling of the energy at hand was starting to become lighter. Like a thin ray of light poking through a thick layer of rainy clouds, announcing that the silver lining was more than just a consolation. It was announcing the sun to come.

He took the book of stories that had been unburied (like his pleasure to write) from the bottom of the sofa’s cushions when they’d received hosts last week-end, and looked with amusement at the opening note about the “random quotes”.

A strong sense of an inkling started to dawn at him.
Thanks to the random quotes —or more appropriately said, to convenient synchronicities— “stuff” was never lost or buried in the insides of that ever-growing story, which was eating with gluttony at the edges of its expansion. Things were popping up here and there, reminding of old loose threads, or pertinent inclusions or links to be made.

But there was more. He, for a long time, had thought that imagination was expanding things to make physical reality look smaller in proportion than it was. Like when they’d looked at Dory’s pictures, and everything looked so big on them. Even the mere thought of nine dogs was huge. But when they’d met her, and Dan, and the dogs, it was all so much smaller. Even seeing Dory manage her dogs made having nine dogs seem manageable.
But the reverse was true: physical reality had its way of dwarfing imagination. Not so much making it smaller, but compacting it, making it fit in an unbelievably condensed and small space.

Take that book. Thousands of words, billions of probabilities, endless threads and hundreds of characters, all packaged in a small stack of inked paper. The trick was that when you look at it that way, when you got that small stack of paper in your hands, it all seems so manageable; one starts to get accustomed to it, then fails to see the newness in it each time it’s opened to tell a story.

Imagination is the true gauge of the vastness of the universe. It’s so easy to forget…

Some selected bits from one tag cumulo-cloud:

— “Matter (is) dimensional energies realized”
— “Expect Hector (to) surface, Rafaela!”
— “Leonora gets (to) keep saying ‘play attention!’”
— “Close rain, friend magic, hope water seeing”
— “Far within thinking, Arona sort days, (her) hold gives human comments great meaning”
— “Soon blue seconds, call straight (at the) door, met surely physical; notice move (of) essence (in) fat huge dreams”
— “Universe appear (in) book story”
— “Malvina line although familiar answered busy funny heading”
— “Tina looked love taking lots question indeed”
— “Word usually working (in) short shifting pooh adventure”
— “Seems Armelle starting soft reason; strange perhaps (in the) middle (of) rolling help (one may) spot dragons’ truth past spider times”
— “‘Tell inside reality’: three words step (to) creating”
— “Becky, allow yourself finding single beautiful playing light, dear”
— “Cloud impulse shall house explain surprised black connection”
— “Cool trust(ed) friends, portal plane”
— “Aliens coincidence next talking”
— “Walking arms seem flight silence; stone creature sound already entered field (of) aware(ness); scene trip apparently given reading”
— “Beyond rolled Theresa, lately cave telling unusual morning”
— “Wortex large, merely Glo”

— “Dory?”
— “What, hon’?” a distracted Dory answered to young Becky
— “You’d better remove the magnets from the iron, or you’ll ruin another one…”
— “What are you talking about?!” Dory was perplexed, trying to find her way through the airport to Gate 57-¾, but only to find nothing but benches in between Gate 57 and 58.
— “Oh, never mind… It’s only a dream and you probably won’t remember it anyway.”

“There!” the suspicious bag lady of the Heathrow terminal had reappeared briefly just for Dory to spot her entering the restrooms.
Becky was already rolling the heavy bumper-stickers patched suitcase to follow her without question.

— “But why are you taking the suitcase to go to the bathroom, Beck’?”
— “What are you talking about Dory!” Becky was sometimes losing patience. “Can’t you see it’s the entrance for Gate 57-¾?!”
— “Uh?” A moment of clueless mystery on Dory’s face. “Oh…” Another mini-black hole on her face.

“Oh. Okay then. Let’s go…”

If there was something that her exotic life had taught Dory, it was to never question the moment. If the circumstances are here, if the impulse is there, then go for it. Explanations will follow. And in case they don’t, make them up as you roll and rock!

Becky meanwhile was rather surprised at how people, even her own step-mother, as tuned in ghostly stuff as she was, most of the time failed to see the things for what they really are. And if these big painted letters on the door “GATE 57 ¾” weren’t obvious enough, and people preferred to interpret them as restrooms, then… what else could be done? She sighed.
Later on, she would learn that it was a common, well documented trait in human consciousness; that people were sometimes psychologically (but not physically) blind to stuff outside of their current focus of attention, or simply blind to things too far off their beliefs; in other terms, it was a matter of energy reconfiguration. As long as it worked…

“Oh look at that… Yukailli Airlines counter is here! What bloody stupid idea to put a closet door at the entrance…”

After having made the departure arrangements at the counter, Dory came back to Becky who was looking outside at the planes.

— “Ain’t them beautiful?”
— “Yeah, and I suppose you’re seeing planes, aren’t you?”
— “Err, yes of course, what else, silly… Though now you ask me, they seem a bit weird… foggy or something”.

In fact, what Becky was seeing wasn’t conventional planes. It was more like “fly-boats”. Some sorts of hybrid ships made to fly with huge wings transparent and shiny like those of flies.

— “I hope they have crunchy coleslaw for meal, I’m starving” a contented and tired Dory said, when she collapsed into the comfortable seats.

Georges and Salome’s journal

From Salome’s account of her introduction to the Turmak People (Part 1)

Georges being involved more and more within the Quorum of Jokans, it has enabled me, if only by proxy, to get more acquainted with the personality of each of them.
The Guardians are an ancient and very distinctive race which is, in many aspects, surprisingly similar to our Dream Walkers. One of these points of similarity is their aptitude at morphing their environment, and altering much of the physical properties of it within their dimension of operation.
I suspect that, similarly to our Dream Walkers being responsible for the creation of physical focus as we currently experiment it in our Earth dimension, they are also for a great part responsible for the creation of many a species in the neighbouring noospheres —note that I shall occasionally use “Noosphere” as a word more apt to convey certain notions rather than the word “planet” which is loaded with certain beliefs.

I will not enter into the social details of the race of the Guardians in this note, as it would be too long for this place, and Georges will probably explain it in more details later.
However, I shall use this as an opportunity to introduce a character who soon became a close ally in our explorations of this universe.
As a matter of fact, I came as a surprise to both of us when she started to pierce through Georges disguise, flawless as it may have been. We found out that they shared a connection which probably was the cause for their allowance of connection through the veils of their disguises in time and space.
A rather elegant member of the Quorum of Twelve, Cil —as she is named, pronounced See’l — intuitively found out that we were not really who we claimed to be, especially that we were not from her known universe at all. But what could have been a difficult situation turned out for the best, as she was equally eager to discover about us, as we were about her people and universe.

The recent reports of uprisings of the Zentauras was the matter which was seriously discussed, and it was decided as a favour from Noraam to Cil to allow her to go for an investigation on the Murtuane, to find out the reasons for this matter, if not the culprits among their kin.
Needless to say that I was very much enthusiastic at the idea of having a guide to explain me more on the relationships at play…

(Part 2)

It may have been the sudden change of environment, but Leörmn had great difficulty at staying focused.
By staying focused, he meant more than just focusing his attention and thoughts. Actually, not much more, as nothing more than his thoughts and his attention were creating of everything —his body included. When he failed to focus as he was now, usually he simply started to disappear from other’s awareness, even though he could be aware that he was still present in their proximity. For most of his activity was happening in the Unseen, and his body was unnecessary for him to manipulate that environment.

The twin dragons, Heckle and Jeckle were equally disturbed, but to a lesser extent, perhaps because their communicating together made their de-focusing less of a concern.

The place where they had been guided to was really unusual. Unusual for dragons at least. Even possibly hostile.

It was like crossing that door had made them turn the physical reality inside-out, and though it was very similar on the surface, the exterior was significantly different.

Apart from the twins, Leörmn was feeling energies, strong energies focused nearby. They were possibly as strong as dragons’ energies, though their configuration was unfamiliar.
Where were they? What was this place?

Leörmn was feeling so powerful undercurrents that it was very disturbing. In his discomfort, he tried to reach for a familiar energy.

In the pool, Salome was feeling the disturbance, as it was already making the cave wobble slightly ever since Leörmn had taken off.

Georges was having fun shape-shifting his skin to get more dolphin-like slickness, and was trying to bring her into his games, but she was caught by the demanding feeling and couldn’t concentrate on the game.

She made a foam bubble around herself to lift her up above the surface of the water. “There… I’ve always felt better in the air.” As a matter of fact, be it only the slight gain of altitude, but her thoughts felt clearer already.

“Oh, my… They are on the Murtuane… Georges, you knew that?!”

Georges was having too much fun to actually physically answer, but Salome knew he was more than vaguely aware of that.

She went deeper into herself, trying to see what was the issue… As far as she knew, the Murtuane was very closely tied to the Duane, and actions made into one of the planet had repercussions onto the other. They were close counterparts for each element, and perhaps it was the drawing closer of these which had created an imbalance of some kind.
“Yes…” she smiled. She was seeing how it could be made easier.

She sent to Leörmn the clearest picture she could make, then popped her foam bubble, to gracefully dive into the pool, having changed her skin to that of a black and white killer whale.

“Thank the Elder Gods,” Leörmn thought, as he just received the warm familiar energy of Salome from deep inside himself.

So that was it… He had to find his counterparting Nirgual, and merge with her for the duration of their little excursion here.
N’meôrl was the name. Salome had met her already a long time ago. She was a brilliant shade of abrigot (some orange smooth fruit).

It would be quite easy actually. Like the Dragons, Nirguals were summoned by their true name, no matter the distance.
Blessed be Salome…

Popping back into focus, Leörmn pronounced loudly “N’meôrl, I hereby summon thy!”

When the huge bird appeared all the others who had started to assail the dragon with question were startled.

Contrary to all appearances, Leörmn was not a dragon of many words, so very few needed to be actually exchanged. The two creatures both knew what had to be done to preserve the balance. And even if they had not known, the pressure on their energy fields was so intense that the merging was just like two magnets drawing closer naturally.

And One again they were.

Q: Okay. What happens to things we create, like with
characters? Are they merely thought-forms, being extensions of
ourselves? Or do they … CAN they move on and become more?

ELIAS: This is dependent upon your choices and how you are
manipulating energy.

Now; in this, let us view what you in physical focus term to be
artistic expressions, in the area of musical composition and of
painting expressions. These are two obvious examples within your
physical creations that you may view certain qualities of the
expressions.

Now; in this, some expressions, within either musical compositions
or expressions of illustrations or paintings, may appear to be
merely an expression of the individual and hold the energy signature
of that individual, but they appear or seem to not extend any
farther, so to speak; this is figuratively speaking.

In other terms, you may encounter other types of musical
compositions or illustrated or painted compositions, and they appear
quite differently. They appear not merely to hold the energy
signature of the individual that has created them, but they also
seem to hold an energy of their own, as if they have been created
into an entity of their own.

Now; the reason that you connect with this recognition of these
types of expressions is that the composition does hold the energy
signature of the individual that has created it, but what it also
may hold is an aspect of that individual focus which has been
allowed to be projected outwardly and has been allowed to continue
independently of the focus.

This is a similar action to fragmentation, but in very physical,
figurative terms, a much, much smaller scale.

This would be likened to any individual, any focus, any essence
projecting an aspect of itself into any other element within its
physical creation – a creature, a plant, a rock. It matters not. You
hold the ability within essence to be projecting an aspect of
essence or of a particular focus into any of these elements to be
experiencing the creations of that element of your reality, such as
a creature or any vegetation, an ocean, a mountain, a rock. It
matters not.

In similar manner, you may project an aspect of yourself into one of
your creations or all of your creations or several of your
creations, and in this, not merely you shall recognize that this
creation appears to take on, so to speak, a life of its own, in your
terms, but other individuals shall recognize this quality also, for
you have allowed yourself to project an aspect of yourself into your
physical creation, therefore breathing into it its own
manifestation, allowing it to be continuing within its own element,
so to speak, within its own right, in a manner of speaking. Are you
understanding?

Therefore, this be your choice of how you shall be creating
within your creativity and what you shall project within it. Appear
it not strange to you that certain individuals may be deemed as
great masters and they shall be revered for their creations and
their creations shall be enduring throughout your linear physical
time, and other individuals may be creating and their expressions of
creativity do not hold this quality? This is the reason…”

Today was the commemoration of the fifth anniversary of the first transmutation made on Earth.

Of course, it didn’t take into account previous attempts (or successes), because they were of the domain of science-fiction and dubious history facts. But now, not only was it rock-solid proven feasible, but also it had change people’s lives like the invention of electricity had about two century ago, in the mid 1800s.

At first, people had not grasped the profound implications of that discovery. It was another funny science experiment from researchers, and didn’t seem to have any more practical usage as did goat cloning, and creation of phosphorescent pigs. However, to mark the consciousnesses of the importance of the event, the government hadn’t skimped on the showcase. Not that it was of any importance after what evolution was bound to happen afterward, but still, huge sums of money were spent brilliantly.

The symbolic aspect of choosing what object to transmute wasn’t unnoticed. It could be virtually anything physical: garbage, contaminated soil… But it had to mean more.
Someone whose name was forgotten came with a suggestion and it slowly came up as the most natural thing —to close this area and open on the new one.
There had been many people still left to convince, the die-hard fanaticism, but it had to be it. And for good measure, the involvement of other nations was asked.

Sept. 4th, 2044, the ceremony opened with the display of what was left of Enola Gay that plane who had dropped the first atomic bomb, which had been almost forgotten in the West, but not completely in the East. And many nations came afterward, each carrying a symbol of what they wanted to recycle, to free themselves off.

Then all of these heterogeneous elements entered the P-Machine, a distant relative of the Z-Machine which had been adapted and enhanced to produce aneutronic fusion at its core —highest temperatures of the universe thought unreachable by human means, harnessed to change the elements at will, and producing no harmful radiations as the atomic towers of the past.
After a silent moment of unbearable expectation, melted gold started to flow out of the machine, making people wonder if that was all of it?

Yes, it was merely it. Transmutation could be done, and it was not so impossible as people thought in the past. It meant free resources, recycling of garbage, abundance for all… at people’s grasp.
What people had failed to recognize at the beginning, apart from the immense possibilities that were lying before them was that the machine could only transmute matter. And even if it could virtually free them of greed (because everything from gold to rocks was basically of the same value now), people’s own values were now made prominent, there was no camouflage left: no victims, no shortages, no lack of.

Even five years after, it still meant huge challenges, but there was hope.

Just behind the plumpy panting woman who was coming to the campfire, Balbina could see the most interesting waddling goat she had ever seen coming along.

“And I suspect the goat talks too?” Balbina asked Yuki.
“Oh, yes… lots even… But don’t expect to understand all she says” Yuki added with a bwink.

Hahaha, Balbina was amazed. That place was the most delirious dream/out-of-body projection she’d had in a long long time. How entertaining.

“Beh, don’t be fooled, Balbina dear, it’s all real. And you’ll know very soon.” the goat started to greet her.
“And you are?”
“Rafaela, at your service.”
“How many more like you are there here? I’ve never seen such a funny zoo…”
“A great deal actually” answered Yuki “but not so many of them are focused in this form. You still have to meet our dear Armowlle, who is doing some spying business and occasional rescue missions on the island, and our soft Arailynx who is on more subjective missions currently…”

Balbina was wondering “and why did you say I’ll know very soon?” she asked the goat.
Rafaela answered with a mysterious smile “Because I’m planning to communicate a way out of this island to two of my little protégés, and I expect some of these people will follow. And you are very likely to meet them in the flesh when they get there.”
“Really?!” Balbina was amazed. This dream was taking qualities of realness she wouldn’t have suspected the least it to have.

“Now,” Yuki cut short the amazement moment “we need to have those among our friends willing to leave, to be prepared to leave at dawn.”

“Okay” Anita, who had been seated on the sand quietly till then, rocking gently from side to side in a calm meditation, said softly.

“Oh, she really can feel us talking…” Balbina said more to herself than to anyone else. And looking closely at the girl’s energy field, she could see how expanded it was, reaching those of Yuki, Kay the spirit dog, and Rafaela and even hers in luminous threads.

“Not all of them are leaving tonight” answered Yuki to her unspoken question. “I think Anita and her parents will, but it’s more than probable than the others will stay. Some have business to do here, and others are in vacations huhu…”

“You’re right, seems like the one with the strange energy field is gone already?”
“Oh Claude, you mean. Yes. His mummification experience wasn’t too pleasant, and he has unfinished business with the people of the island; no wonder he prefers to stay here on his own.”

(on the beach, around the campfire, in Regional Area 1, or physical reality)

— Awww, plane-crash you say? ‘ow wonderful… Mavis was chatting with Akita. Ye need to come with me, ye can’t stay ‘ere all night. Besides, Shar and Glaw will be so thrilled to see you. And we were starting to think it was all boring ‘ere; didn’t know they would have real survivors like on real-TV!

— Aaron and his family … they would probably need some better shelter, I assume. This probably would be best for us to come with you… Akita answered. And apparently, Claude has left, so that’s just us…

— Owlright then! Mavis beamed, come with me handsome! she said, clutching the soldier’s muscular arm under hers.
— Don’t worry Akita, we’ll follow you, said Anita to the soldier who was visibly appealed by the woman but was also weary to leave Anita alone with her sleeping parents. Besides, we can see the lights behind the trees, it’s very near…

— See you there Anita! Akita said to Anu
— Bye Akita! And don’t worry, Kay is always with you she said with a mysterious smile.

As they walked side by side to the facility, Mavis said “Kay? A friend of yours?”
“Oh, my lost dog… Nothing to worry about” answered Akita absently.

A Pacific island then… she thought

Let’s move there…
She could feel her ghost body hover, like a feather sucked into a whirlwind.
She had to be confident she’ll snap back right at her lying body when she’ll be over with the trip.
Trust that everything will be okay. As it always were. Will always be.

She could see the Earth from above… The Pacific Ocean, its huge vastness, delimited by coasts of lights.

Oh, of course, she had not thought of that, but it was night there. She could see towns, concentrations of which were twinkling like shiny stars on a dark sky; but she didn’t want towns. Far too crowded, lots of energies that were maybe intoxicating at first, but she could feel she would be worn out in a second.
For, as she traveled in spirit, she had access to so much more information than people usually get with their physical senses alone,… it was hard to explain.

There… in that dark patch, when she moves closer, she can feel the immensity of the ocean surrounding everywhere. She moves closer to that long island that must be New Zealand, because she doesn’t want to be far from any sort of indication of her location. Keeping an eye on this, she spots something which isn’t a city light. It’s dancing, like a fire.
How can she spot a fire at that distance is beyond her understanding, but she has learned not to question, and act upon her impulses.

She wills herself at the fire.

Waves, the peaceful sound of the waves.

Around the fire, she can see a dog, crouched near a thoughtful man; there’s a young girl too, with a little white rabbit in her lap. The girl’s parents are resting in a hug, and a man with a strange energy configuration, the like of which she hasn’t seen, is closing the circle.

What a bunch of interesting people…

Well, now you mention it, sweetie, it’s quite funny because I was about to tell you the exact same comment… That may be a hint that at least our telempathic skills are slightly better when they are shifted, Leormn said with a draggle (that’s a dragon giggle)

Arona could feel a warm blanket of his energy trying to reach her between her toes, but she felt so very ticklish, that she resisted a bit.

Just keep it still, you snuggly dragon she managed to say between short laughs

You’ll find your friends back, you know; that’s just that you now need to beat your drums for a while,… just as Malvina needed to. I meant to tell you, she can get pretty hot-tempered, and usually it’s not a pretty sight, so she prefers to put everyone out of the way; and frankly, even for me it can be hard to reach her through all these dark clouds grumbling in her head.

I thought the others were in that darn cave too? said Arona in disbelief (for she knew dragon’s talks weren’t really to be trusted)

Well, can’t you tell for yourself? You’re more than capable to tune your vibration to your friends if you want to. You are as far from your friends physically as you are from them in your vibrational offering to the Universe

You look different dragon, looks like you’re not speaking like the Leormn I knew Arona shook her head to try to see between the mist of teal-smoke enveloping and twirling around her.

All things change Arona, and you know that better than anyone. Simply trust your feelings, and reach for the new version of those things you thought lost. They may appear different, but you’ll know without a doubt that you’re where you want to, when your anguish has left place to that warm feeling of being in the place you want that you long for.

Orgetak was fond of taking a crocodile as an animal essence.
He was coming from a fragmentation of some big names of Essence Land, and he shared many connections with lots of other “essences siblings”. In that moment, he was having fun observing Rafaela… though he was having a weird sense of wanting to merge more thoroughly with her… perhaps that crocodile disguise was cloaking his judgment… He wasn’t too sure.

He had focused recently, to catch up with one of Rafaela’s own focuses, a rather famous one, whose genetic pool was a magical blend which would be spread in many new enticing physical probabilities. In a haste, despite of no time by which to measure it, he had created himself a past of an Sri Lankan geneticist named Dr. Gayesh Sitharaya, whose interest (or intent) dwelt in exploring the multiplicity of one individual’s aspects…

— What’s the catch then?
— What do you mean Al?
— Oh, come on Tinipooh, you know there’s always a catch… Surely Becky mentioned that on the phone…
— Ahaha, are we speaking of the same Becky?
— Well, why would that guy help her anyway. And I’m not really sure having another her on the loose is of any help for that matter Sounds more like a world domination plan to me…
— Well, you know Becky, always blissfully jumping in the stream, even if it’s full of piranhas. It’s good she even thought of giving us a call…
— Yeah, too bad our thought reading techniques seem to get less and less reliable these days…

From one blink to the other, hung betwixt spaces and times in that now where there is no such thing as space or time, Leörmn was considering the wide network of possibilities through the eyes of his friends to assist their movement.

The “blink” was an opportunity for them; an opportunity to rearrange the space, incorporate new physical aspects, or discard others.

In truth, all was ever here, at their reach. All was surrounding them in a dance of invisible links of consciousness.
These links were, like the grains of sand of a giant glubolin, constantly vibrating in an arrangement made to accommodate and fit those clumps of grains known as “essences” that were playing for a moment the game of having an identity and being separated from the whole vibration moving through the sand —even playing to the point of identifying themselves with the sand at times.

You could see that as a progressive enhanced experience, and while most races he had seen were having fun playing with many filters overlaying the experience of that vibrating scenery of conscious sand, Leörmn was a dragon, and dragons had no need for that many layers.
That was where the energy of Malvina, and Georges, were helpful. In tuning into their filterings, Leörmn could dim the spotlights on the parts of this unbound scenery which was not useful to them. But still retaining this wide awareness of the infinite realm of possibilities, he could also easily spot those most accessible to them.
And even as consummate a traveler Georges was, there were still energy reconfiguration of the overall scenery that were not easily reachable for him.
Tuning into another world or reality was mostly easy. Altering the configuration of the physical reality at a bigger scale was another thing altogether.

That tremendous power had made the dragons almost extinct in the past —a better way to put it would be to say that they slipped into other dimensions, exited that of Alienor—, fearsome as it was for the other races.
The seed that was found in that past they had just visited was already germinating. The whole probability trail looked to the dragon like something radiant and warm as the little creature named Leo, curled-up into Malvina’s aura…

What would be their next move now?

It only took a few seconds for Armelle to deflate though she donned off with a hint of reluctance the delightfully filling feeling of power she had acquired notwithstanding the slight overweight (a few grams at best, given her immaterial nature of pristine white hallowy owly essence, but you could not reasonably expect to be really ascended with even no more than a few grams of physicality left, could you?)…

So, it only took a few seconds, which in essence’s inner time was tantamount to a mere eon (a merry myriad of seconds).

But then, all was so clear.
She was seeing the trail that was left unwatched by the spiders, and that her friends would take to the wort-hole.

— Claude, my dear, would you be so kind as to oblige me for a few minutes? she regally asked her host of the branches, taking great care not to be too self-conscious, which would irremediably make her roll her eyes and lose all composure.
— Well… err… I s’pose yes…
— Indeed. Then, take good care of the wort-hole, and wait for us to come back, and then lead us back to the place from whence you came.
— Wouldn’t do that, if I were you… It’s full of magpies there…
— Oh bugger now. Armelle sighed so profusely that it made the hair raise on Claude’s head. The Snoot told me the way would be clear, so… have a little faith in me she said in a cocker’s voice.

And there, in a majestic elan, she went back to the spot where her friends were now gently getting together.

When she arrived, Akayli the were-lynx had just been deposing his precious package of the two silk-wrapped parents at the feet of little Anita. The first minutes of doubt passed, her hesitant face started to show a smile, knowing that her parents would be fine.

Yuki was for himself all very impressed by the transformergence of his friends, and was finding that a very good idea to get more focused.
However, he could hear the yet unvoiced protests of Armelle at his yet unphrased suggestion of a mergence
— Now way I get my white feathers mixed in that bloody smelly goat’s fur!
And of course, he could hear too the yet unvoiced slew of outraged protests
— Smelly goat? Who you bloddy call a smelly goat, you persnickity saucer-eyed shuttlecock?

Yet… Yuki, gazing for a few seconds of essence in the stream of possibilities, weighted again the enticing result that a mergence of the three of them would produce…
Which would be… a… grabbiffon.
A magnificent winged horned cotton-tailed… sort of… gryffun… or grumpfoon.
Well… perhaps Armelle was right in the not-yet-voiced first place.

That would just be plain ridiculous.

…

So… what are we waiting for?! Let’s do it now!! all three of them laughed in unison