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  • #230

    Illi had not known as powerful an opponent as this other Illi.

    At first, she had been remembered of stories of possession by evil sprites (or djinns) that she had heard in her youth, when Ibn al’ Gruk, the old angora storyteller was entertaining the desert settlement beating the rhythm with sonorous drums.

    So, she had pushed, and rebelled, and fought, as fiercely as any other gripshawk skilled and trained in the hand-to-hand martial arts would have done.

    But the other Illi wasn’t so easily vanquished.

    Then Illi had collapsed. She had sorrowfully abandoned the fight to the dreaded adversary.

    All of this had been occurring in a twinkle of an eye, but for Illi, the fight had been during ages and ages, while she was trying to focus on what BelleDora was explaining to her about the land where she was now.

    And when she had abandoned the fight, everything was again so easy. She did not care any longer, she was free again. Her evil twin could do anything, it could not matter less.

    But the evil twin had been in fact doing the same, and she had struggled to keep the focus coherent to her. Didn’t want stupid moth-looking people in her reality, or even spare hair on her face! But that other one was strong, and fierce. And stubborned too!

    — Who are you? she finally had asked
    — I’m Illi, had the other answered
    — I am Illi.
    — So we are both Illi
    — Yeah, that may be it, but we are quite different.
    — Are we? You feel quite like me, despite your stupid affection for smooth baby face.
    — Well, wouldn’t it be for that, I can see some resemblance…
    — Will you let me continue my trip?
    — Oh, I would have, but you’ve hijacked mine, said Illi Fergusson.
    — So you think.
    — And where does your trip leads to? asked Illi F. who wasn’t too sure of her trip either
    — From traveling portals to traveling portals, to discover all that can be discovered on this world. Magical creatures, I distrust them, but the lands and people are fascinating… And what about yours?
    — Hmm, hmm, pondered Illi F. for a moment… Well, I’m dead actually, but I didn’t expect being dead to be so busy. There are so many things to discover, and I like that. I see funny looking people, and this looks like fun. Like a minute ago, I was in some kind of funny cave, with a parrot…
    — A what?
    — A parrot, you know, a kind of talking bird full of colours…
    — Mmm, some kind of demonic creature for sure. Would have slain it without an hesitation!
    — Hey! You see, that’s why I didn’t want you to come with me.
    — Well, seems like for a moment, we don’t have much more choice…
    — At least, look at the bright side, with us merged like that, each of us can provide the other one with some sound experience on each other’s worlds.
    — Well, that’s not as airy-fairy as it seems…
    — Well, thank you for that, I’ll take that as a compliment.
    — You really are dreadfully serious at times!
    — Hey, I’m not anybody you see. My parents were aristocrats, I’m not the common hairy lot.
    — Ahahah, you’re funny.
    — So are you!

    And they ended laughing blissfully together.

    After a moment, Illi asked again:

    — Huh, a funny cave you said?
    — Well, yes. With lots of people…
    — Interesting… I was near some sort of strange cave too a while ago, that is, before I was found by this nice man and his dogs. Perhaps there is some connection here.
    — And could you go there again?
    — Not sure if I want to; there were some smelly fumes, smelt like demonic magic in there.
    — Oh you see, for as long as I’ve been dead, well even if that’s not so long ago, anyway, the point is I’ve not seen any demon so far… blustered Illi F.
    — Oh, and I have to take your word like that then?
    — Well, do as you please, but I’m going there again…
    — Just wait for me now, will you; let’s try to do things hand in hand, because you’re driving me mad!

    And the deal was made.

    BelleDora had continued to explain lots of things about her ancestors, but had not really noticed Illi’s attention had been so far away. She was a bit surprised when she found herself interrupted in a middle of a poetic depiction of the coastal plains of the Peninsula of the Dragon Head, where some glistening Capricorns were sometimes seen swimming in the creeks.

    — And how do I get back safely to this hole where I was found? asked Illi abruptly.

    #227

    Jibberacky is…

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

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

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

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

    _

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

    _

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

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

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

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

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

    #225

    Becky and Sam were chatting on the phone. I want a day off from shifting, Becky sighed.
    I was saying that yesterday, Sam said, bugger off the shift.

    Becky was reading the rough notes for the new dimensional reality play they were working on with some friends from the create-your-own-drama group

    “You eat with me? Come on, sit down and tell me how you got there?” who is saying this, Georges or Dory? Becky asked Sam. She didn’t want to admit it, but she was finding the plot increasingly hard to follow.

    Dory, Sam replied, and then added, In my perception.

    Becky sighed, and then giggled, making a mental note to review the criteria for Day Off Shifting Day… It could be an awful lot of fun, too, this shifting, maybe Focus on Fun Day instead…

    … She needs to be like a host, Sam was saying. Becky hadn’t been listening properly and wasn’t quite sure what he meant.

    Ok, so pretend I am Dory right now and I say: How did you get here Georges?

    Hahahahh I won’t spoil you! Sam laughed, and Dory harumphed a bit to herself, wondering how to deal with the unexpected appearance of Georges. Not that she wasn’t delighted at the surprise visit, and quite charmed by him.

    ‘Enchanté’ he’d said, and she giggled again.

    To Sam she said Oh I thought that would be an easy help. Then she had an idea.

    I will write Georges smiled a big toothy grin, and said ‘I won’t spoil you’

    #224

    Grandad! Grandad!, called India Louise to Lord Wrick, running in the old manor, her footstep making creaking and loud noises down the windy staircase.

    Hilarion Wrick was seated in his favourite armchair, dozing after the hefty meal prepared by Nanny Gibbon, the cat Manfred on his lap.

    Raising an eyelid, his cheerful wrinkled face smiled at the little girl.

    — And how can I be of assistance, dear little one?

    — Grandad, this book is full of wonders, but at times it’s like some characters have their own life, and I don’t always understand what they do… In fact, she added thoughtfully, I don’t understand them most of the time…
    — Hahaha, laughed the old Lord, but they have certainly their own lives, as they are living in your imagination. What can I explain to you?
    — Well, let me think.

    India Louise took a moment, and asked again

    — For instance, this woman who just run in the cave, she seems to meet many people here, but I am confused. Is she dreaming, or are they real?
    — Well, as a matter of fact, let me express to you that they are all real, even if you think that she dreams them. However, I am understanding of what you are saying, and I shall acknowledge your perspicacity. These characters are not all from the same areas of consciousness.

    Here, we will explain for the reader that these books were not unknown to Lord Wrick who had spent lots of time during his youth playing with them. How they were lost and found again is the subject of another story, and we will not divert the reader’s patient attention for much longer on this issue.

    — Areas of consciousness?

    — Yes, you see, let me explain. That individual that you call Dory, she is in a physical world. But she is aware, to an extent, of other realities that overlap her own reality. Just as her story overlaps your own reality my dear one.

    — And Illi? Who is she?
    — This one is also Dory, but another personality of her, in another time. She has just passed away, quite recently. She is beginning to slowly become aware of that, and she connects with other of her personalities, and at times blends with them, like the other Illi, the cat-like creature, who is still in the physical reality of Malvina’s world.
    — Mmmm, this is quite intricate…
    — Hahahaha, yes, it seems so, but it will not be so puzzling when you don’t try to attach your current limited perception to this story. This story is you my dear. You are the story.
    — Well, and Sanso, and Georges then, are they dead or what? How come Dory can see them?
    — These ones are special, they have mastered the crossing of the Worlds, and can move through them. They move differently though. Sanso comes from a lineage of an ancient tribe of Zion, and had learn from them how to activate some portals, but only through the physical world of Dory, in their own time. He is not yet aware that he can also move through time as well, or even through other Worlds —worlds that he has no conception of yet.

    Georges is more consummate in that art. Their meeting is not coincidental. You will see that.

    — Thank you Grandad, it’s becoming a bit less confusing.
    — Just flow with the story my little one, don’t hold on too much, or you will find it too difficult, and you will stop to find fun in it.

    #222

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

    “Hum.”

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

    “hum” the man said again.

    “Are you looking for something here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    The smell of coleslaw was filling the tunnel…

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

    #220
    F LoveF Love
    Participant

      Arona stood up, rather to Mandrake’s annoyance, and took off her heavy cape. Wondering for a moment what to do with it, for she really did not want it anymore, she noticed a coatstand.

      well how handy is that she thought, hanging it up and giving it a last fond stroke.

      There were three tunnels out of the cavern she was in and without hesitation she took the one on the left, but she knew she could have taken any of them and everything would be perfectly fine, because that was the beauty of magic.

      so easy really she thought.

      #219

      As the parrot set off in search of Dory he came to a fork in the tunnels. Down one tunnel he would find Dory, and down another tunnel he wouldn’t. HHMM. Well, I’ll just do bother, he decided, (chuckling to himself that he’d said bother when really he meant both) and probability parrot one set off down the right tunnel and probability parrot two set off down the left. Probability parrot one (or PP1 for short) did indeed find Dory, and was heading back towards Sanso and the door in the ceiling with Dory tripping along behind him, when he came to another crossroads. PP1 went right, and PP3 went left, and so on, and before long the caves were full of parrots.

      #215

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

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

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

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

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

      All I have done is wander around dark passageways really.

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

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

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

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

      Oh cute, said Arona, a talking cat.

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

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

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

      Mandrake sighed in an impatiently eggsagerated sort of a way.

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

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

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

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

      #214

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

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

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



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

      #212
      F LoveF Love
      Participant

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

        FIONA!

        She turned back.

        Hey Jarrod

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

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

        FOOD! Great is that for me Fiona?

        #210
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          Today, which was the day of the autumn equinox, had been a bright day over the Orkney Islands, quite unusual for this time of the year.

          Nanny Gibbon had been taking the twins for a walk into the nearby woods of the domain, were they could enjoy the wood dewberries that were ripe and delicious at this season. The twins loved picking them directly on the thorny bushes and eating them until their hands were full of the dark stains left by the sweet juice of the fruits.

          They knew that Nanny Gibbon would pick enough to make some delicious jam, perhaps to accompany some of her famous sweet pumpkin pies.

          When they came back to the Manor, they were exhausted by the afternoon spent in the lovely sunlight. After having washed their hands thoroughly, they didn’t really care for anything else but some sleep.

          But as they moved inside the corridors, Cuthbert noticed he had carelessly left opened his bedroom’s door, and a prick of fear for the precious books had him immediately rush to the room.

          And Cuthbert gasped in horror as he saw his book flown open on the floor, and the old grumpy cat Manfred, asleep on top of one of the blank pages.

          Manfred had the nasty habit of clawing everything, especially the huge soft armchair of Lord Wrick, but his antics were elegantly accepted by the old gaunt Lord.

          When he heard Cuthbert enter the room, the old fluffy cat raised an inquisitive eyebrow and moved very slowly and deliberately out of the book pages, only to reveal the immaculate pages, as whole as if the book had been brand new.

          Cuthbert was thrilled with joy. Manfred had not done anything to the precious book. He would have stroked the cat with gratitude, but the creature had moved out of the room very swiftly for its old age, in a haughty look of total disregard for the little boy.

          At least the book was intact. But what if… Cuthbert wondered… He started to look at the page, and new images started to form before his eyes…

          #208

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

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

          the answer had come as a surprise to many…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

          #197

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

          #194

          Illi felt much better, and was sitting at the breakfast table, basking in the warm shafts of sunlight filtering in through the window, and listening to the birds singing in the lemon tree outside.

          BelleDora came in from the kitchen bearing a large tray with freshly squeezed buckberry juice, soft boiled eggs in pistachio green eggcups and bread and butter soldiers, and The Reality Times newspaper.

          Illi wasn’t in the habit of reading the news, but occasionally found an article of interest. Todays headlines looked intriguing: Fiona’s Diary: never before published excerpts of the Malvina Dragon saga.

          #193

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

          #191
          TracyTracy
          Participant

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

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

            Key? What key?

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

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

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

            #189

            The feelings of the eggs was increasing, Írtak was close now. He could feel the pulse and where he thought it was only one egg, he could feel now that there were two of them, though the vibrations were so close to each other that he had been “fooled” in a way.

            He smiled, happy that he could bring back two eggs.

            When he entered the room where they had been layed, there was that sparkling green glowing all around, the waves or energy coming from the eggs were very lively and joyful. The communication between them was so strong and loving that he was almost overwhelmed by the feelings.

            They were aware of his presence and they greeted him. No words needed to feel they were eggstremely eager to live…

            They were still soft and smooth, the shell had not hardened yet. They were quite big actually and he wondered a moment how he would bring them back. His concern surely was transparent and he could feel the reassuring energy of Malvina.

            He felt a surge of energy and knew she would open a gate between the room he was in and the rookery… she connected and created a connection between the two spaces and he saw the entry of the room blurred somewhat and soon he heard the sound of the waterfall of the rookery… new flowery scents came into the room and as he was picking up the first egg he found out that they were welded together… dragon twins. He felt awed for a few seconds as the energy ripples from the eggs were increasing since his realization.

            They would help him in his task. Humming silently and quite directively.

            The eggs seemed so light with that eggstra energy.

            He could bring them in the moistly and warm rookery. He laid them down near the waterfall but not too close so they wouldn’t be bothered by the rippling sounds. And close enough so that they would be warmed up by the heat of the spring.

            He felt Malvina’s smile, and Leörmn acknowledgment of what happened there. He felt an intense bond between them.

            The baby dragons were not to be born yet, but they each already knew who would be their dragon rider.

            One last stroke on the shells.

            One last glance on the emerald green glowing eggs.

            He shivered with anticipation.

            He would be back soon for the hatching…

            #188

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

            Quintin: Your story was great!

            Fiona: Thank you :) So was yours.

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

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

            Fiona: no, wrap it up if you feel.

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

            Quintin: Ahahaha! Don’t restrict yourself ;)

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

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

            Fiona: The endearing dragons…

            Quintin: Yeah…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

            Quintin: yeah, exactly, or with your paintings

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

            Quintin: Yeah, people can unleash their imagination.

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

            Fiona: such as? eggsamples?

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

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

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

            Fiona: Ahahhaha! It is you to the core

            Quintin: LOL, damn me!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

            Quintin: it was a metaphor :D

            Fiona: ahahahhahahahahahah

            Fiona: I know, so was mine :D

            Quintin: ahahahahah

            Fiona: I was thinking I feel really accepting of myself

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

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

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

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

            Fiona: True.

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

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

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

            Fiona: Ahahahaha yes

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

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

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

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

            Quintin: Of course, you know :)

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

            Quintin: Ahahaha, stomping on the poor key-fish

            Fiona: Nearly…

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

            Fiona: See you! :)

            #187
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Sanso was very hungry. He’d been living on the fungus that grew inside the dampest parts of the cave, but the recent stretches of tunnel had been much drier, sandy even. He hadn’t found a cave entrance for days and longed to step out of the cave into air and sunlight and green things, and find something fresh and juicy to eat.

              Beginning to feel quite despondent, and with the hunger and thirst making his body ache terribly, he sat down, crumpled into a heap on the sandy floor. He lay back, stretching out flat and slept for what seemed like days.

              He woke up mumbling the name Eggleton, which reminded him of a dish he’d encountered at one of the cave entrance worlds. He’d wandered into a beautiful strange green and rainy land, and followed the delicious aroma of something that seemed so delightfully familiar, that he couldn’t quite place, something that reminded him of mornings. Coffee! He remembered now. The smell of coffee had led him to a door with big brass numbers on it: 57. He opened the door and peered round it, wondering if he’d be welcome. It had seemed as though nobody was there, but a table was laid for one, with scrambled eggs on toast (freshly cooked as if whoever had prepared it had known eggsactly when he would arrive) and a steaming pot of black coffee.

              Sanso stretched and realized his many aches and pains had been eased by the sleep on the soft sand on the cave floor, and the dry atmosphere, and slowly opened his eyes. Lying flat on his back, he was looking directly up at the tunnel ceiling. There was a door in the ceiling, strangely parrallel to the floor, an odd position for a door, he thought. His heart lurched and his stomach growled again with hunger as he noticed the large brass numbers on the door: 57.

              #186
              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                Arona eventually woke from her sleep, still tangled in the images from her dreams. Unable to remember these images she was left feeling as though she were adrift in a boat on the ocean, not caring where the wind and waves may take her.

                She had no feeling that morning. It was as though a door had closed in her mind, shutting out the part that could feel. She did not know, nor care, whether she was shutting out joy or sorrow, only that some part of her wanted to be alone.

                She remembered the words of the older woman who had sat with her and soothed her to sleep. Or was she already asleep? Was the woman a dream?

                Use your magic, she had said.

                When she was young, in the Village, magic had come easily to Arona. When did it end?. She screwed up her eyes trying to concentrate. It hadn’t ended all at once. Did it start to end with the cloak her parents had given her?

                Arona shook her head briskly and thoughts, like leaves in the wind, lifted and fell back to earth again in new formations.

                :fleuron: :fleuron: :fleuron:

                The candle still burned brightly and her attention was drawn to the heavy wooden door, knowing she could not put it off any longer. In her bag of treasures was a key. It had been given to her at the beginning of her 21 st year, as was custom in the Village. It was no surprise to her that it fitted the lock perfectly.

                Thank you for having me room, she said as she left.

                No, thank YOU, replied the sleepy glukenitch.

                :fleuron: :fleuron: :fleuron:

                The door led directly into another space, larger, brighter. She could sense someone there, but not in solid form. It was a beautiful woman who Arona felt an immediate affinity with, and then a strange sadness came unbidden.

                Why sad?

                I have no clue answered Arona briskly, quickly shutting the door back on these pesky emotions.

                You always know, just feel it

                So Arona closed her eyes tightly and allowed herself to feel the answer.

                Because you know who you are, and it made me realise I have no idea who I am.

                Mmmmmmm, said the woman, maybe you would care to look at my new paintings. Actually they are some of yours.

                Intrigued, Arona felt this would be a suitable distraction and she looked with much interest.

                The first painting was of a child, in a beautiful meadow of flowers. The child appeared to be completely absorbed, concentrating on a small blue butterfly which had lighted on her finger.
                The picture itself moved and changed shape as though it were a portal to another living, breathing world. In the corner of the picture were some other children who seemed to be playing happily together.

                Arona, who had felt immediately connected with the young child frowned.

                Doesn’t the little girl feel left out?

                Go in, said the woman, Go inside the picture and feel the answer.

                Oh, and you might want to leave your cloak behind.

                So Arona did, and she became the child, but also stayed herself, observing the scene. She felt the child’s happy fascination in her connection with the butterfly. Not just the butterfly. She could feel her connected with the earth, and the gentle breezes and the beautiful flowers … The child was deeply contented, absorbed in the moment, moving happily with the flow of her interest.
                I remember feeling like that, thought Arona, before the magic went.
                She gently drew the child’s attention to the other children and felt the flow of energy between them. The child was so sure of who she was and where she wanted to be, and Arona could feel the loving acceptance of her playmates.
                As the child’s attention went to the others, one of the children looked up and came running over. They sat together and laughed at some funny rabbits which had appeared in the meadow.

                :fleuron: :fleuron: :fleuron:

                Arona returned to the cave.

                You look troubled

                Well, Arona felt a little perplexed. It’s all very well playing with butterflies and rabbits in a meadow, but it is not terribly practical.

                On the contrary, perhaps it is very practical. Would you like to see another of your paintings?

                Suspended gracefully between two posts was a beautiful, glistening spider web. Little drops of rain hung like jewels on a chain. An enormous spider waited patiently in the shadows. As Arona watched a small insect happened at that moment to be caught, and the spider began to creep along the delicate lines.

                Arona shuddered a little. I might not jump into that one .

                The woman laughed, Use your magic Arona. Weave your magic web and let it all come to you.

                Oh you are the second person to tell me to use my magic. An old lady came to me in my dreams, I think.

                Well I gave her the same advice, years ago.

                More damn riddles, Arona thought to herself, and the woman laughed.

                One final painting of yours I would like to show you. It is beautiful is it not?

                Arona stared mesmerised for a moment, and then leapt right in.

                She sat among an audience, captivated by the dancers on the stage ahead. Beautiful music played and it reminded Arona of the music she had heard earlier. The dancers leapt and twirled and Arona was enraptured.

                Dance Arona, she heard the woman’s voice

                I can’t dance like that, I’m not good enough.

                It doesn’t matter

                And Arona could not hold back any longer and entered the body of one of the dancers. She did not know the dance so she made up her own steps, and strangely this seemed to fit perfectly with the other dancers.

                :fleuron: :fleuron: :fleuron:

                Back in the cave the woman seemed to be listening to something Arona did not think she could hear.

                Things are shifting she said

                Oh lordy, are they said Arona, What should I do now?

                Feel the answer

                Arona felt. I am very hungry, eggceptionally so.

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