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In reply to: The Precious Life and Rambles of Liz Tattler
Fortunately the aging spell didn’t last long and they returned to normal.
Almost.
The missing teeth had not grown back, but Liz had had perfect new teeth installed in place of the old ones. They were shinier and could even sparkle under full moon light. Of course, Godfrey told her the dentist was a fan of Tolkien and found inspiration from the elven magical artefacts.
At the time Liz almost canceled her appointment because she didn’t want disco teeth in her mouth that could distract her audience. But she had been seduced by the bubbly personality of the dentist, and though she did not admit it as it was not proper, she rather liked going to him.
Liz grunted unladilikely as she opened her lips wide like a horse, trying to see if they would shine under some bathroom LED light. But the glitter only came from the beads and sea sparkles of her bathroom mirror and vasque, the bottles of shampoo and her new rejuvenation stem cell cream she had just put on her face. The teeth, they looked perfectly normal.
What a disappointment, really, she thought.
She had to ask Godfrey when was the next full moon. Would the treasure in her mouth only shine under moonlight or would it shine also indoor? She wondered. She might as well have to have special mirrors installed to redirect all the light in the new ballroom.In reply to: Pop﹡in People Tribulations
Maeve sighed loudly—something she had been doing an awful lot of lately—and checked the time on her phone. If she left now and really hurried it would only take 5 minutes to get to the cafe. On the other hand if she took her time … well, with any luck the others would have already moved on.
Not that she didn’t like Lucinda, on the contrary she enjoyed her neighbour’s gregarious nature and propensity to talk amusing rubbish — usually in public and at the top of her voice which would cause Maeve to look around nervously and lower her own voice in order to compensate.
Maeve had made peace with her own introversion years ago. In order to survive with a semblance of normality, she had cultivated an outward calm which belied the activity going on in her head. The downside of this was she suspected she came across to others as muted and dull as the beige walls of her apartment. The upside was it allowed her to hide in plain sight; and she considered this to be a very handy trait. In truth, Maeve was one who liked many and few; she would happily talk to people, if she knew what on earth to say to them.
‘Anyway,’ Maeve reasoned, ‘I have to finish the doll.’
She looked with satisfaction at her latest creation; a young boy wearing a vintage style buzzy bee costume. She had painstakingly sewn, stuffed and painted the cloth doll and then sanded the layers of paint till he looked old and well worn. ‘He looks like he has been well loved by some child,’ she mused. There was just one more step remaining before applying a protective coat of varnish and seating him on the shelf next to the others.
She went to the kitchen drawer. In the 3rd drawer down there was a cardboard box of old keys. Most of the keys didn’t fit anything in her apartment; in fact she had no idea where they came from. Except one. She picked out a small gold key and went to the writing desk in the lounge, a heavy dour piece of furniture with a drop-front desk and various small drawers and cubby holes inside. Maeve unlocked one of these drawers with the key and pulled out a small parcel.
‘Only 3 parcels to go,’ she thought with relief.
A small section of the stitching was unfinished on the back of Bee Boy, just enough to squeeze the package inside and then rearrange the stuffing around it. With neat stitches Maeve sewed up the seam.
She checked the time. It had taken twenty six minutes.
“Want to go for a walk to see Aunty Lulu and her nice new friends? See what she is going on about decorating?” she asked Fabio, her pekingese.
Topic: Pop﹡in People Tribulations
“Yes, dear, it’s all true, you’re dead as a doornail. Now, please take a seat, and be quiet.”
If not for her rebelling nature, Granola would have left it at that, and would have jumped onto the glimmer train into the light for a happy ever after. But she had to question. “And err… Sir, are there any other options? Ways I could come back, and help?”.
“Oh dear, don’t tell me you want to be one of them.”
The disdain in the tone of the white robed dolent man was enough to convince her. She had to be part of them, whoever they were.
As soon as she had signed the form, everything disappeared.
She waited,… a long time… cried, pleaded even. Almost prayed, but mostly brayed. A long time.
And then she lost it.
And the blue turban guy showed up. * Popped * in.
“Welcome to the Pop-in Tribe!” he said charmingly. “With a little bit of focus, you will find the essence of it to be not so bitter after all…”
In reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods
“I think a sandstorm is coming” Rukshan pointed at Olli the menacing clouds galloping towards them. “We need to find cover!”
It was too risky for them to teleport again with this meteorological turbulence.A small ridge of rock was showing not far from their landing spot. They started to rush towards it, their steps burrowing in the shifting sands making their run almost like a crawl.
“We won’t make it!” Olli had stumbled in the soft ground, his eyes filled with terror at the darkening reddish sky.
“Olli, hurry! we’re almost there!”
“Kweee” a squeeky sound that almost felt like a purring seemed to alleviate Olli’s fears for a moment, and he managed to hurry back to cover.
“Not a second too early!” Rukshan shouted in the midst of the howling sands.
The rocky formation had a crevice which was just big enough for them, and would keep them safe. Rukshan had deployed a large cape to try to seal the entrance with a magical spell.“Safe, for now.” He felt tickled. “What the…?”
“Kweeeyooobilibilibu” —
Rukshan raised an eyebrow to Olliver. “Did you feel necessary to bring one of the baby Snoot with you?”
“It’s not me, promise! It just hitched a ride on its own.” Olliver’s face was a mix of confusion and mischievousness, Rukshan couldn’t help but laugh heartily.
In reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods
Fox sat back on the wooden chair in Margoritt’s kitchen, and crossed his arms, a little unnerved by the heat and his growing desire to go out in the woods and let go of all restraints. He had been struggling daily to control it and he had noticed it was particularly difficult during the new moon.
“If we have to do it in the house,” said Fox, “Can’t we at least open the windows? It’ll let in some fresh air.” He wrinkled his nose at the heavy scents of sweat mingled with that of fermented goat milk, irritating his delicate sense of smell. Rukshan had gathered their little group and they were waiting for Gorrash to wake up.
“The purpose of meeting here is that nobody can hear what we are saying,” said Rukshan with a hint of exasperation in his tone. “If we open the windows it’ll just…”
“Isn’t it rather because of the mosquitos?” started Fox feeling a little argumentative.
Glynis cleared her throat and got up, mumbling that she might have a solution. She came back a few moment later carrying a big bottle with a big sticker. Rukshan and Mr Minn helped her lift it while Eleri and Margoritt cleared a space on the table where they put the bottle.
The sticker had something written on it : AIR CONDITIONED, winter quality. Handle with caution.
Glynis turned the cap a few turns and a wooshing sound escaped from the neck of the bottle, followed by a gentle and continuous breeze of fresh air which provoked a murmur of appreciation from everyone.
“What’s this?” asked Gorrash who had just woken up.
“It’s what the sticker says. Cooling the atmosphere is just one way to use it. One has to be careful not to turn the wheel too much though or you could get frost bite.”
The fae looked at the bottle appreciatively, impressed at Glynis’ many talents. He was already thinking about a few other ways to put this frozen air bottle to use when Glynis cleared her throat again.
“It’s not infinite content and I only get a few of them, so if we could start the meeting.”
“Of course. I’ve received words from Lhamom. Her father has passed away and they are sending him to the sea during the week-end.” He allowed a moment of silence, sending a silent prayer toward their dear friend. Then he continued : “That means she’ll be able to join us for our trip in the mountains. We only have to decide who’s going and who’s staying to help Margoritt.”
Rukshan looked at each of them intently and Fox felt uneasy when his friend’s eyes fall upon him.
In reply to: Eight Turns of the Wheel
One spring day in 1822, so the story goes, Emerald Huntingford was walking the family dog on the extensive family estate, when the dog ran into a densely wooded area in hot pursuit of a rabbit. This was not uncommon, however on this occasion Emerald whistled and called but the dog did not return to her. She ran back to the house and shouted for her brother, Nigel, to help her find the it.
After several hours of frantic searching, for it was a much loved family pet, and just as they were beginning to despair, they heard whimpering coming from a hole in the ground. They cleared away the brush covering the entrance to the hole and saw it went some way into the ground and it was here the unfortunate dog had fallen. It was too deep for them to enter unaided, so while Emerald sat with the dog and called reassuringly down to it, Nigel ran for assistance. With the help of ropes and several strong farm workers, Nigel descended into the space. To his amazement, he found himself in a clay filled dome with shallow entrances going off to other underground galleries. At that time, with his focus on the injured dog, he had no inkling of the extent of it. It was later on, after they had time to explore, that the Huntingfords started to comprehend the amazing world which existed under their land.
Word spread, and they were offered a substantial amount of money by a mining company to mine the land. Locals, and others from further afield, wanted to visit the doline and many would try and do so, with or without seeking permission from the Huntingfords first. Some argued that if you don’t own the sky above your land, why should you have claim to the ground beneath?
The Huntingfords were wealthy and had no need or desire to sell the rights to their land. Eventually, their patience worn thin by the aggressive mining company and invasive tourists, they decided to defend their claim to the doline in court; a claim which they won. From that time on, as one generation of the family passed the secrets of the doline to another, guards were employed to keep watch over the entrance, that none may enter the underground world without the approval of the family.
And it seems none had, until now.
In reply to: Eight Turns of the Wheel
random plot generator
A BOOK SHOP – IT IS THE AFTERNOON AFTER ALBIE HIT HIS MOTHER WITH A FEATHER.
Newly unemployed ALBIE is arguing with his friend JENNY RAMSBOTTOM. ALBIE tries to hug JENNY but she shakes him off angrily.
ALBIE
Please Jenny, don’t leave me.JENNY
I’m sorry Albie, but I’m looking for somebody a bit more brave. Somebody who faces his fears head on, instead of running away. You hit your mother with a feather! You could have just talked to her!ALBIE
I am such a person!JENNY
I’m sorry, Albie. I just don’t feel excited by this relationship anymore.JENNY leaves and ALBIE sits down, looking defeated.
Moments later, gentle sweet shop owner MR MATT HUMBLE barges in looking flustered.
ALBIE
Goodness, Matt! Is everything okay?MATT
I’m afraid not.ALBIE
What is it? Don’t keep me in suspense…MATT
It’s … a hooligan … I saw an evil hooligan frighten a bunch of elderly ladies!ALBIE
Defenseless elderly ladies?MATT
Yes, defenseless elderly ladies!ALBIE
Bloomin’ heck, Matt! We’ve got to do something.MATT
I agree, but I wouldn’t know where to start.ALBIE
You can start by telling me where this happened.MATT
I was…
MATT fans himself and begins to wheeze.ALBIE
Focus Matt, focus! Where did it happen?MATT
The Library! That’s right – the Library!ALBIE springs up and begins to run.
EXT. A ROAD – CONTINUOUS
ALBIE rushes along the street, followed by MATT. They take a short cut through some back gardens, jumping fences along the way.
INT. A LIBRARY – SHORTLY AFTER
ROGER BLUNDER a forgetful hooligan terrorises two elderly ladies.
ALBIE, closely followed by MATT, rushes towards ROGER, but suddenly stops in his tracks.
MATT
What is is? What’s the matter?ALBIE
That’s not just any old hooligan, that’s Roger Blunder!MATT
Who’s Roger Blunder?ALBIE
Who’s Roger Blunder? Who’s Roger Blunder? Only the most forgetful hooligan in the universe!MATT
Blinkin’ knickers, Albie! We’re going to need some help if we’re going to stop the most forgetful hooligan in the universe!ALBIE
You can say that again.MATT
Blinkin’ knickers, Albie! We’re going to need some help if we’re going to stop the most forgetful hooligan in the universe!ALBIE
I’m going to need candlesticks, lots of candlesticks.Roger turns and sees Albie and Matt. He grins an evil grin.
ROGER
Albie Jones, we meet again!MATT
You’ve met?ALBIE
Yes. It was a long, long time ago…EXT. A PARK – BACK IN TIME
A young ALBIE is sitting in a park listening to some trance music, when suddenly a dark shadow casts over him.
He looks up and sees ROGER. He takes off his headphones.
ROGER
Would you like some wine gums?ALBIE’s eyes light up, but then he studies ROGER more closely, and looks uneasy.
ALBIE
I don’t know, you look kind of forgetful.ROGER
Me? No. I’m not forgetful. I’m the least forgetful hooligan in the world.ALBIE
Wait, you’re a hooligan?ALBIE runs away, screaming.
INT. A LIBRARY – PRESENT DAY
ROGER
You were a coward then, and you are a coward now.MATT
(To ALBIE) You ran away?
ALBIE
(To MATT) I was a young child. What was I supposed to do?
ALBIE turns to ROGER.ALBIE
I may have run away from you then, but I won’t run away this time!
ALBIE runs away.He turns back and shouts.
ALBIE
I mean, I am running away, but I’ll be back – with candlesticks.ROGER
I’m not scared of you.ALBIE
You should be.INT. A SWEET SHOP – LATER THAT DAY
ALBIE and MATT walk around searching for something.
ALBIE
I feel sure I left my candlesticks somewhere around here.MATT
Are you sure? It does seem like an odd place to keep deadly candlesticks.ALBIE
You know nothing Matt Humble.MATT
We’ve been searching for ages. I really don’t think they’re here.Suddenly, ROGER appears, holding a pair of candlesticks.
ROGER
Looking for something?MATT
Crikey, Albie, he’s got your candlesticks.ALBIE
Tell me something I don’t already know!MATT
The earth’s circumference at the equator is about 40,075 km.ALBIE
I know that already!MATT
I’m afraid of dust.ROGER
(appalled) Dude!While ROGER is looking at MATT with disgust, ALBIE lunges forward and grabs his deadly candlesticks. He wields them, triumphantly.
ALBIE
Prepare to die, you forgetful aubergine!ROGER
No please! All I did was frighten a bunch of elderly ladies!JENNY enters, unseen by any of the others.
ALBIE
I cannot tolerate that kind of behaviour! Those elderly ladies were defenceless! Well now they have a defender – and that’s me! Albie Jones defender of innocent elderly ladies.ROGER
Don’t hurt me! Please!ALBIE
Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t use these candlesticks on you right away!ROGER
Because Albie, I am your father.ALBIE looks stunned for a few moments, but then collects himself.
ALBIE
No you’re not!ROGER
Ah well, it had to be worth a try.ROGER tries to grab the candlesticks but ALBIE dodges out of the way.
ALBIE
Who’s the daddy now? Huh? Huh?Unexpectedly, ROGER slumps to the ground.
MATT
Did he just faint?ALBIE
I think so. Well that’s disappointing. I was rather hoping for a more dramatic conclusion, involving my deadly candlesticks.ALBIE crouches over ROGER’s body.
MATT
Be careful, Albie. It could be a trick.ALBIE
No, it’s not a trick. It appears that… It would seem… Roger Blunder is dead!ALBIE
What?ALBIE
Yes, it appears that I scared him to death.MATT claps his hands.
MATT
So your candlesticks did save the day, after all.JENNY steps forward.
JENNY
Is it true? Did you kill the forgetful hooligan?ALBIE
Jenny how long have you been…?JENNY puts her arm around ALBIE.
JENNY
Long enough.ALBIE
Then you saw it for yourself. I killed Roger Blunder.JENNY
Then the elderly ladies are safe?ALBIE
It does seem that way!A crowd of vulnerable elderly ladies enter, looking relived.
JENNY
You are their hero.The elderly ladies bow to ALBIE.
ALBIE
There is no need to bow to me. I seek no worship. The knowledge that Roger Blunder will never frighten elderly ladies ever again, is enough for me.JENNY
You are humble as well as brave! And I think that makes up for hitting your mother with a feather. It does in my opinion!One of the elderly ladies passes ALBIE a healing ring
JENNY
I think they want you to have it, as a symbol of their gratitude.ALBIE
I couldn’t possibly.
Pause.ALBIE
Well, if you insist. It could come in handy when I go to the Doline tomorrow. With my friend Matt. It is dangerous and only for brave people and a healing ring could come in handy.ALBIE takes the ring.
ALBIE
Thank you.
The elderly ladies bow their heads once more, and leave.ALBIE turns to JENNY.
ALBIE
Does this mean you want me back?JENNY
Oh, Albie, of course I want you back!
ALBIE smiles for a few seconds, but then looks defiant.ALBIE
Well you can’t have me.JENNY
WHAT?ALBIE
You had no faith in me. You had to see my scare a hooligan to death before you would believe in me. I don’t want a lover like that. And I am going to the Doline and I may not be back!JENNY
But…ALBIE
Please leave. I want to spend time with the one person who stayed with me through thick and thin – my best friend, Matt.MATT grins.
JENNY
But…MATT
You heard the gentleman. Now be off with you. Skidaddle! Shoo!JENNY
Albie?ALBIE
I’m sorry Jenny, but I think you should skidaddle.
JENNY leaves.MATT turns to ALBIE.
MATT
Did you mean that? You know … that I’m your best friend?ALBIE
Of course you are!
The two walk off arm in arm.Suddenly MATT stops.
MATT
When I said I’m afraid of dust, you know I was just trying to distract the hooligan don’t you?In reply to: The Precious Life and Rambles of Liz Tattler
The door bell rang and Finnley left Liz confused by the present the maid had brought her from Bali. It was the statue of a man in a strange position. Liz had no clue what he was doing, but the statue was so big she could imaging using it as a stool with small silk cushion to make it more comfortable. It was made of wood. Liz touched the head of the statue and felt a momentary lapse.
“hum!”
Liz started. “Oh you’re back”, she said to Finnley with a smile. Finnley looked at her suspiciously.“Did you take something while I was answering at the door?”
“Oh! right the door. Who was that?”
“Journalists. They are here for the documentary movie.”
The fleeting state of bliss was gone. “Journalists? For me?”
In reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods
“Oh no!” Margoritt swore loudly, “not that cursed rain again!”.
They were about to share what was left of the cake for dessert when the first booming strike of thunder resounded violently across the mountains.She cupped her hands in front of her mouth to rally the troops over the noisy rumble of the heavy dark clouds. “Inside! Everyone inside!” — when the rains started in spring, they could go on for days, drenching the countryside in curtains of water.
The first drops falling, quickly extinguishing the candles, Rukshan raised his head to look at the darker skies covering completely the moon’s glow “This is no ordinary rain…”
“You bet, it isn’t!” Margoritt said, looking more sombre than she ever was. “That magical umbrella won’t be enough this time, we are probably going to have to sit that one out inside. Help me bring the animals inside.”
In front of the small cottage, everyone else started to hurry inside, bringing back the plates, cups and leftovers, while Rukshan was preparing some wood for the fire to keep the moist away.
“Has anybody seen Eleri?” Yorath’s look was concerned. “She seem to have disappeared somewhere as usual… But she hasn’t come back yet,… and I’m afraid she took a large bite of the trancing cake too. It’s not a good night to trance out.”
Rukshan was torn between waiting a bit longer, or going to search for her, which would be risking lives during the dark stormy night. He was about to offer to go outside himself when Gorrash said briskly:
“Let me go find her, this storm is nothing, and I’m used to the dark. You all should stay inside. If I don’t come back at the break of dawn, you can go out to look for us, but don’t worry too much about me, I’ll blend in.” He winked at Fox who smiled weakly. He didn’t like this type of cold rain. Its smell was damp and rotten.“Thank you Gorrash, that is very noble of you. Please, take care of yourself, and be back soon.” Rukshan said as he opened the door which was now jerking violently against the darkest night.
In reply to: The Precious Life and Rambles of Liz Tattler
While the others were posturing and staring at each other threateningly like a pack of territorial stray dogs, Roberto inched closer to the mysterious sack. Something had started to protrude through a ragged hole in the side of the hessian weave. With a surreptitious glance at the others, who were still glaring at each other ~ with the exception of Godfrey who was still eyeing the lone peanut ~ he took another step closer. He bent down, ostensibly to flick a bit of mud from his trouser knee, and peered at the thing poking out of the sack.
“Why, it’s a tiny furled leaf!” he gasped. “It’s sprouting!” Like a sack of old potatoes left to rot in a damp corner, forgotten and discarded, a pale shoot was striking out in search of light.
Roberto held back when Liz demanded that Finnley lead her to the attic forthwith, followed by the Inspector. Godfrey shuffled along after them, picking up the stray peanut and popping it into his mouth. As soon as the gardener heard their footsteps creaking on the first floor landing, he made his move. There was life in that sack and he was going to give it the chance to thrive, to grow and blossom.
He knew just where to plant it. It would take some time to reach that place, but he knew what he must do.
Roberto set off for The Enchanted Woods, with a determined smile and a spring in his step. He was going to save the characters and grow them himself, nurture them all back to life.
In reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods
The remembrance had made the magic book reappear in Rukshan’s bag, and with it, its leaves ripe with vibrant parts of the long ago story. Rukshan started to read, immediately engrossed by the story it told.
When the Heartswood was young, many thousands of years ago, during the Blissful Summer Age
WHO
— The Dark FAE
— The Mapster DWARF
— The Glade TROLL
— The Trickster DRYAD
— The Tricked GIRL
— The Laughing CRONE
— The Toothless DRAGONACT 1, SCENE 1 – THE PREPARATION
NARRATOR: It all started as an idea, small and unnoticeable, at first. Almost too frail to endure. But it soon found a fertile soil in the mind of seven improbable acolytes. It took roots and got nourishment from greed, envy, despair, sorrow, despondence, rebellion and other traits. And it grew. That growing idea bound them together, and in search of the way to obtain what it wanted, got them to work together to do an unthinkable thing. Rob the Heartswood of its treasure, the Crest Jewel of the Gods, the radiant Gem that was at its centre. It would be the end of their sorrow, the end of the Gods unfair power of all creation… The idea obscured all others, driving them to act.
FAE: Did you get the map?
DWARF: Of course, what do you think, I am no amateur. What do you bring to the table?
FAE: I bring the way out. But first things first, the map will get us there, but we still need a way in. What says your TROLL friend?
DWARF: He heard rumours, there is a DRYAD. Her tree is dying, she tried to petition the Gods, but to no avail. She will help.
FAE: Can your friend guarantee it?
DWARF: You have damn little trust. You will see, when she brings in the GIRL. She is the key to open the woods. Only an innocent heart can do it, so the DRYAD will trick her.
FAE: How? I want to know everything, I don’t like surprises. An unknowing acolyte is a threat to our little heist. What’s her story?
DWARF: I don’t know much. Something about a broken heart, a dead one, her lover maybe. The DRYAD told the GIRL she could bring her loved one back from the dead, in the holy woods.
FAE: I can work with that. So we are good then?
DWARF: You haven’t told me about your exit plan. What is it?
FAE: I can’t tell you, not now. We need the effect of surprise. Now go get the others, we will reconvene at the woods’ entrance, tomorrow night, at the darkest moon of the darkest day.SCENE 2 – THE CURIOUS GODMOTHER
GIRL: Godmother, I need to go, you are not to worry.
CRONE (cackling): Let me come with you, the woods are not safe at this time of the year. The Stranger is surely out there to get you.
GIRL: No, no, Godmother, please stay, you cannot help me, you need to rest.Rukshan looked at some of the blank pages, there were still missing patches
ACT 2 – SCENE 3 – THE HEIST
In the heart of the Heartswoods
TROLL: Let me break that crystal, so we can share it!
GIRL (reaching for it to protect it): No! I need it whole!
DRYAD (in suave tone): Let it go! I will protect it and give you what you want…
GIRL: Your promises are worthless! You lied to me!
CRONE: (cackles) Told you!
DWARF: Give it to me!
FAE (quieting everyone): Let’s be calm, friends. Everyone can get what they want.GIRL (startled): Eek! A Guardian DRAGON! We are doomed!
FAE (reaching too late for the crystal): Oh no, it had broken in seven pieces. I will put them in this bag, each of us will get one piece after we leave. (to the DRAGON) Lead the way out of this burning circle!
DWARF (understanding): Oh, that was your exit strategy…
FAE (rolling eyes): Obvious-ly.That was all that the book had to show at the time. Rukshan thought the writer got a little lazier with the writing as the story went, but it was good enough to understand more or less what had happened.
There was one last thing that was shown in the book.
WHAT THEY STOLE
— Shard of Infinite Knowledge
— Shard of Transmutation and Shapeshifting
— Shard of Ubiquity and Teleportation
— Shard of Infinite Influence and Telepathy
— Shard of Infinite Life and Death
— Shard of Grace and Miracles
— Shard of Infinite StrengthIn reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods
The drizzle wasn’t meant to last. At least that’s what the smell in the air was telling Fox. With the night it was getting colder and the drizzle would soon turn into small ice crystals, and maybe worse.
“We should get going,” Fox said, enjoying the last pieces of rabbit stew. The dwarf had been busy looking around in the leafless bushes and behind the tree trunks. He had been silent the whole time and Fox was beginning to worry.
“What have you been doing anyway?” he asked. “Are you hunting? You can still have a piece of that stew before I swallow it.” He handed his bowl toward the dwarf, who grumpfed without looking at Fox.
“I don’t eat. I’m a stone dwarf. I think I get recharged by daylight.”
Gorash kept on looking around very intently.
“We should get going,” repeated Fox. The weather is going to be worse.
“Grmpf. I don’t care. I’m made to stay outside. I’m a stone statue.”
“Well even stone gets cracked with the help of ice when temperature drops below zero. How am I supposed to carry you if you fall into pieces,” said Fox. He thought his idea rather cunning, but he had no idea if Gorash would be affected by the bad weather or not, since he was not really like stone during the night.“And what are you looking for? It’s winter, there’s not much of anything behind those naked bushes.”
“It’s Easter. You had your rabbit. I want my eggs,” said the dwarf.
“Oh.” Fox was speechless for a few moments. He too had been thinking of the colourful eggs of the dwarf’s friend they had left in the witch’s garden. He wondered what had happened to it? Gorash had been gloomier and gloomier since they had left the garden and Fox didn’t understand why. He had thought his friend happy to go on a quest and see the outside world. But something was missing, and now Fox realised what it was.He didn’t really know what to say to comfort the dwarf, so he said nothing. Instead he thought about the strange seasonal pattern shifts. If it was Easter then it should be spring time, but the temperatures were still a havoc. And the trees had no leaves in that part of the forest. Fox remembered the clock tower of the city had had some problems functioning recently, maybe it was all connected. The problems with the bad smell around the city, the nonsensical seasonal changes and that gloomy quest… maybe it was all connected.
Fox gulped the last pieces of rabbit stew without enjoying it. He licked the inside of the bowl and put it in his backpack without further cleaning. He had suddenly realised that it was not much use to ask Gorash’s permission to leave as Fox was doing all the walk during the day anyway. So he could as well do it at night. He didn’t have as much difficulties to put out the fire as he had lighting it up. He cleaned the place as much as he could and then looked around him. The night was dark, the drizzle had turned into small snow flakes. Fox smelled the air. It would soon turn into bigger flakes. The dwarf could stay outside if he wanted, but Fox needed to move. Let him follow if he wants to.
In reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods
Looking at what was left in his bag, it made Rukshan realise he was walking in the Dragon Heartswood for longer than he thought.
It was a maze with layers of concentric circles of tree, and seemed far bigger and vast once you were inside that it should have been.
He had been presumptuous to venture in it, without any guidance or map, knowing very well that most of those who had entered it, never came out. There was a magical distress beacon that was in the bag, but he guessed it would only help him retrace his steps back to where he entered. He didn’t want to use it. He could still feel the glowing confidence infused in his heart by the potion, and now, it was as though it was telling him to do nothing, and just not worry. So he chose one of the trees, to just sit under, and meditate for a while.There was a bird, high in the small patch of sky that the treetops didn’t cover. Or at least, it looked like a bird. I had been there for a moment, as if watching him.
“Don’t you like birds?” the voice said “They are my favourite creatures, so smart and graceful. Ah, and the joy of the flight!”
He wouldn’t open his eyes, not sure the feminine voice was in his head or not. She was one and the same with the large bird hovering —it was one of her projections, but she was human.
“You know who I am, Rukshan, you have been searching for me.”
“You are the Hermit, aren’t you?”
“Yes, and here I am, saving you a long trip to the mountains.” There was a smile in her voice.He didn’t know what to say, but feared to open his eyes, and risk the spell to vanish.
“You can open them, your eyes. They are deceivers anyway, they are not the senses that matter.”
She was there, in front of him, looking ageless. There was no telling if she was a projection or real.
She had put something in front of him. A sort of flat braid, not very long, and made with different threads of diverse nature and impractical use, yet artfully arranged, revealing clever and shifting patterns.
“It is for you Rukshan, to help you remember. I have worked on it for the past days, and it is now ready for you.”
He looked at the patterns, they were clear and simple, yet they changed and seemed to elude understanding. The braid was only loosely attached at the end, and threatened to unravel as soon as moved.
“These are your lives, intertwined. You and six others. You don’t know them, in this life —however long yours has been. But you are connected, and you have know each other before, and you have intertwined before. Some of these past stories can be read in the patterns, and some are tragic, and they all bear fruits in this life and the next. It is no mystery why you have been attracted to the Heartswood, because it is where the Sundering started, and where you and the others have left things unresolved. If you don’t look deep now, and take steps to correct course, you will go from this life to the next and repeat your torments and endless search.”
While Kumihimo spoke, Rukshan had fleeting images and impressions, some linked to the visions the gingkos and the trees had sent him before, of the others, linked to his quest.
“Yes, you are starting to remember… That day, when you and the others tried to rob the Gods of the flame of creation. They cursed you, even their pet Dragon who was supposed to guard their treasure and sided with you against them.”
She showed him the ring of charred trees that marked that particular period in the middle of all the rings for each ages of growth of the Heartswood.
“The Sundering” he spoke softly, reminded of fables in the legends of the Fae. That was the ancient age, when most of the Gods had disappeared, some said, gone through the doorway that was at the very heart of the Heartswood, the very source of life and death, and creation. There had been new Gods after that. They also possessed great powers, but none with the aura of the Old Ones —no Old God would have been trapped in stone by a mere witch’s enchantment.
Rukshan turned to the Hermit with deep pondering. “What can we do?”
She was starting to fade away, turning again into a bird. “Each of you has a special power, that you stole in that past life, and with each new life, you carry it with you, and with it, its curse. Find who you were, find what you stole, and give it back. Then the threads will unravel and the knot of all the curses will be undone.”
In reply to: The Precious Life and Rambles of Liz Tattler
“Jingle has always been very precocious” her proud grandmother, Mrs Bell told Liz and Godfrey over nougat and peanut cakes. “She has read all your books so many times, and really was ecstatic that you agreed to have her for a couple of weeks.”
Ms Bell smiled at Godfrey “Obviously, it has nothing to do with it, but here is a generous donation that should more than cover the meals and lodging.”“As well as a score of bills fallen behind, I reckon” thought Godfrey while smiling at the oddly bespectacled and bejewelled woman, while grasping the edge of his seat in case Liz’ would realize it would mean to have a moody teenager over the manoir for the next days.
“It is our dear pleasure to have this darling child,” Liz’ spontaneous answer astonished Godfrey by her graciousness. “Our Finnley will take care of her, she knows the ropes of writing better than my ropes of drying laundry, if you know what I mean huhuhu.”
Mrs Bell nodded with a look of lost perplexity on her smiling face.
In reply to: The Precious Life and Rambles of Liz Tattler
“Trusting that the invisible connecting links are seamlessly interwoven even if they are not apparent is not for the faint hearted” added Jingle.
“Who said that?” cried Elizabeth and Finnley in unison, with varying degrees of exaggerated surprise.
Oblivious, Godfrey continued his tuneless bellowing, his voice rising to an ear splitting falsetto as he sang A Weave A Weave Oh.
In reply to: The Precious Life and Rambles of Liz Tattler
“Don’t bother me with that now, Finnley! We really must do something about that loose hanging thread before it trips us up. Godfrey will wrap it up, and we will unravel again. We’ve left those poor dears hanging by a thread ~ again! ~ stitched up….. if we carry on like this we’ll never get characters to agree to work in our stories again! And who could blame them! They gem hemmed into a scene and left there. Until someone tries to patch it up, and then it all starts fraying at the seams.”
“Is something needling you, Elizabeth?”
“I can do without your warped sense of humour. Do pay attention dear, how can we knit this all back together?”
In reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods
It had been three days. Fox wasn’t sure of what to do next. The witch was gone, the manor was empty, and she wasn’t coming back. For a moment he felt like the small fox he was before his master found him, feeling abandoned by his mother. She had been killed after hiding him from the hunters. But he didn’t know it at the time. Fox sighed. How was he supposed to find the lost piece of soul now? It was easier when he was in his animal form, he wouldn’t think so much about what to do next, he would just be doing, anything that fit the moment. But his master had warned him not to revert back to his animal form, that he was not yet free. Fox wasn’t sure if it was true, but he trusted his master, and despite the strong desire to turn back, each moment he was making the decision to keep his human form.
There was another who was not yet free, Fox thought. He looked at the cold stone face of his new friend. They had talked every night since his arrival and as usual they hadn’t seen the daylight coming. This time, Gorrash had been frozen laughing, and Fox thought it was the liveliest statue he had ever seen. They had gotten along quite easily, especially after Fox had given the dwarf some medicine to help with the nausea after his incursion underground. Afterward, Gorrash had been an endless source of questions about the world. Fox thought the dwarf was an interesting character. He looked old with his long beard and the wrinkles around his eyes, but he had not been around very long. Grey during the day, he was very colourful once the daylight had gone; he wore red hat and pants, green jacket, and brown crakows and belt. His voice had the sound of a grinding stone, with a hint of melancholy as he talked about his maker. But for the moment, despite his expressive outburst, he was cast in silence.
Fox shook himself and decided it was time to make some plans about where to go next. He would try to catch up with the witch, he might be able to find her before she went to far away from the forest. The woman looked old and she couldn’t have gone far, especially as she seemed to avoid human contact, she wouldn’t have found a carriage. Fox remembered his master warning him about hope, that it was one of the cause of suffering in the world. Nonetheless, roaming randomly into the enchanted forest could take him years to find the lost piece of soul. Hope or no hope, he had spent enough time waiting in his life. He had a quest now.
Fox wouldn’t have admitted aloud, but his new friendship brought in some complication. Fox had tried to lift him, but despite its rather small size the statue was quite heavy. He would have to find something to carry it during the day as they couldn’t just walk at night time.
Fox looked at the garden for a moment, the frozen pond, the yellow grass, some old abandoned furniture. Then he looked at the closed door of the house, and wondered why he hadn’t thought of it before. There might be something useful inside. And if the witch was gone, she wouldn’t mind, would she?Fox used a pair of pins to open the door. The smell of herbs, spices and a few other things he didn’t want to know about, brushed past his nose as he entered the dark house.
In reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods
The garden was becoming too small for Gorrash. With time, the familiarity had settled down in his heart and he knew very well each and every stone or blade of grass there was to know. With familiarity, boredom was not very far. Gorrash threw a small pebble in the pond, he was becoming restless and his new and most probably short friendship with Rainbow had triggered a seed in his heart, the desire to know more about the world.
Before he’d met the creature, Gorrash could remember the pain and sadness present in the heart of his maker. He had thought that was all he needed to know about the world, that mankind was not to be trusted. And he had avoided any contact with that dragon lady, lest she would hurt him. He knew that all came from his maker, although he had no real access to the actual memories, only to their effects.
Gorrash threw another pebble into the pond, it made a splashing sound which dissolved into the silence. He imagined the sound was like the waves at the surface of the pond, going endlessly outward into the world. He imagined himself on top of those waves, carried away into the world. A shiver ran through his body, which felt more like an earthquake than anything else, stone bodies are not so flexible after all. He looked at the soft glowing light near the bush where Rainbow was hiding. The memory of joy and love he had experienced when they hunted together gave his current sadness a sharp edge, biting into his heart mercilessly. He thought there was nothing to be done, Rainbow would leave and he would be alone again.
His hand reached in his pocket where he found the phial of black potion he had kept after Rainbow refused it. He shook it a few times. Each time he looked at it, Gorrash would see some strange twirls, curls and stars in the liquid that seemed made of light. He wondered what it was. What kind of liquid was so dark to the point of being luminous sometimes ? The twirls were fascinating, leading his attention to the curls ending in an explosion of little stars. Had the witch captured the night sky into that bottle?
Following the changes into the liquid was strangely soothing his pain. Gorrash was feeling sleepy and it was a very enjoyable feeling. Feelings were quite new to him and he was quite fascinated by them and how they changed his experience of the world. The phial first seemed to pulse back and forth into his hand, then the movement got out and began to spread into his body which began to move back and forth, carried along with this sensual lullaby. Gorrash wondered if it would go further, beyond his body into the world. But as the thought was born, the feeling was gone and he was suddenly back into the night. A chill went down his spine. It was the first time. The joy triggered his sadness again.
The dwarf looked at the dark phial. Maybe it could help ease his pain. He opened it, curious and afraid. What if it was poison? said a voice of memory. Gorrash dismissed it as the scent of Jasmine reached his nose. His maker was fond of Jasmine tea, and he was surprised at the fondness that rose in his heart. But still no images, it was merely voices and feelings. Sometimes it was frustrating to only have bits and never the whole picture, and full of exasperation, Gorrash gulped in the dark substance.
He waited.
Nothing was happening. He could still hear the cooing of Rainbow, infatuated with it eggs, he could hear the scratches of the shrews, the flight of the insects. That’s when Gorrash noticed something was different as he was beginning to hear the sharp cries of the bats above. He tried to move his arm to look at the phial, but his body was so heavy. He had never felt so heavy in his short conscious life, even as the light of the Sun hardened his body, it was not that heavy.
The soil seemed to give way under his increasing weight, the surface tension unable to resist. He continued to sink into the ground, down the roots of the trees, through the tunnels of a brown moles quite surprised to see him there, surrounded by rocks and more soil, some little creatures’ bones, and down he went carried into hell by the weight of his pain.
After some time, his butt met a flat white surface, cold as ice, making him jump back onto his feet. The weird heaviness that a moment before froze his body was gone. He looked around, he was in a huge cave and he was not alone. There was an old woman seated crosslegged on a donkey skin. Gorrash knew it was a donkey because it still had its head, and it was smiling. The old woman had hair the colour of the clouds before a storm in summer, It was full of knots and of lightning streaks twirling and curling around her head. Her attention was all on the threads she had in her hands. Gorrash counted six threads. But she was doing nothing with them. She was very still and the dwarf wondered if she was dead or asleep.
What do you want? asked the donkey head in a loud bray.
It startled the dwarf but it didn’t seem to bother the old lady who was still entranced and focused on her threads.
Nothing, said Gorrash who couldn’t think of anything he would want.
Nonsense, brayed the donkey, laughing so hard that the skin was shaking under the old lady. Everyone wants something. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want something.
Gorrash thought about what he could want, what he had been wanting that night. He remembered his desire to get out of the garden.
And there you are, brayed the donkey head, that’s a start. What do you want then?
Getting out of the garden?
Noooo! That’s a consequence of a deeper desire, but that’s not what you want.
I have never thought about desires before, said Gorrash. It’s pretty new to me. I just came to life a few weeks ago during a full moon.
The donkey head tilted slightly on its right. No excuses, it spat, If you’re awake, then you have a desire in your heart that wants to be fulfilled. What do you want? Take your time, but not too long. The universe is always on the move and you may miss the train, or the bus, or the caravan…
As the donkey went on making a list of means of transportation, Gorrash looked hesitantly at the old lady. She was still focused on her six threads she had not moved since he had arrived there.
Who is she? he asked to the donkey.
_She’s known by many names and has many titles. She’s Kumihimo Weaver of Braids, Ahina Maker of Songs, Gadong Brewer of Stews…
Ok! said Gorrash, not wanting the donkey go on again into his list enumeration pattern. What is she doing?
She’s waiting.
And, what is she waiting for?
She’s waiting for the seventh thread, brayed the donkey head. I’m also waiting for the thread, it whined loudly. She won’t leave my back until she’s finished her braid. The head started to cry, making the dwarf feel uncomfortable. Suddenly it stopped and asked And, who are you?
The question resonated in the cave and in his ears, taking Gorrash by surprise. He had no answer to that question. He had just woken up a few weeks ago in that garden near the forest, with random memories of a maker he had not known, and he had no clue what he desired most. Maybe if he could access more memories and know more about his maker that would help him know what he wanted.
Good! brayed the donkey, We are making some progress here. Now if you’d be so kind as to give her a nose hair, she could have her last thread and she could tell you where to find your maker.
Hope rose in Gorrash’s heart. Really?
Certainly, brayed the head with a hint of impatience.
But wouldn’t a nose hair be too short for her braid? asked the dwarf. All the other threads seemed quite long to him.
Don’t waste my time with such triviality. Pull it out!
Gorrash doubted it would work but he grabbed a nose hair between his thumb and index and began to pull. He was surprised as he didn’t feel the pain he expected but instead the hair kept being pulled out. He felt annoyed and maybe ashamed that it was quite long and he had not been aware of it. He took out maybe several meters long before a sudden pain signalled the end of the operation. Ouch!
hee haw, laughed the donkey head.
The pain brought out the memory of a man, white hair, the face all wrinkled, a long nose and a thin mouth. He was wearing a blouse tightened at his waist by a tool belt. He was looking at a block of stone wondering what to make out of it, and a few tears were rolling down his cheeks. Gorrash knew very well that sadness, it was the sadness inside of him. Many statues surrounded the man in what looked like a small atelier. There were animals, gods, heads, hands, and objects. The vision shifted to outside the house, and he saw trees and bushes different than the ones he was used to in the garden where he woke up. Gorrash felt a strange feeling in his heart. A deep longing for home.
Now you have what you came here for. Give the old lady her thread, urged the donkey. She’s like those old machines, you have to put a coin to get your coffee.
Gorrash had no idea what the donkey was talking about. He was still under the spell of the vision. As soon as he handed the hair to the woman, she began to move. She took the hair and combined it to the other threads, she was moving the threads too swiftly for his eyes to follow, braiding them in odd patterns that he felt attracted to.
Time for you to go, said the donkey.
I’d like to stay a bit longer. What she’s doing is fascinating.
Oh! I’m sure, brayed the donkey, But you have seen enough of it already. And someone is waiting for you.
The dwarf felt lighter. And he struggled as he began levitating. What!? His body accelerated up through the earth, through the layers of bones and rocks, through the hard soil and the softer soil of years past. He saw the brown mole again and the familiar roots of the trees of the garden in the enchanted forest.
Gorrash took a deep breath as he reintegrated his stone body. He wobbled, trying to catch his ground. He felt like throwing up after such an accelerated trip. His knees touched the ground and he heard a noise of broken glass as he dropped the phial.
“Are you alright?” asked a man’s voice. Gorrash forced his head up as a second wave of nausea attempted to get out. A man in a dark orange coat was looking down at him with genuine worry on his face.
“I’m good,” said the dwarf. “But who are you?”
“My name is Fox. What’s yours?”
In reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods
Eventually Eleri fell back to sleep, warmed by her memories. She was awakened by the sound of a flute and the sun streaming in the window. Realizing she had overslept and that it would now be impossible to slip away unseen at dawn, she lay there watching the dust particles dancing in the shaft of light. The motes swirled and jigged as if to the lilting tune and the temptation was strong to drift off into another reverie, but Eleri roused herself. Stretching, she inched the blankets back. The tile floor was chilly on her bare feet so she inched over to the sunlit square, pleasantly surprised to find her body felt rejuvenated somehow, supple and limber. She made a mental note to remember to appreciate that, while simultaneously mulling over the ensuing inevitable encounter with Leroway.
Maybe she had avoided him too long, and it was no longer necessary. It had become a habit, perhaps, to keep out of his way, automatic. She dressed quickly, for it was a chilly morning despite the sun, and slipped down the attic stairs in search of a hot drink. Hippy tea they used to call it, back in the days when everyone preferred coffee but felt that herbal teas were more beneficial, but coffee was hard to come by these days, and the various hippy teas were welcome enough.
Pausing before entering the kitchen, Eleri frowned. Surely that was Yorath’s voice? What was he doing here? They had parted ways the previous morning, Yorath heading for the city and then on to other places, his rucksack of elerium replaced with dried mushrooms. She had hugged him and thanked him, and set off up the hill towards the mountain village to see her friend, wondering when he would return.
Eleri remained standing behind the kitchen door, listening. Leroway and Yorath were deep in conversation. Her mouth was dry and she badly wanted to visit the outhouse, but she didn’t want to interrupt their flow. They were talking about the bamboo forest.
She continued to eavesdrop, wondering where the rambling and seemingly aimless discussion was going.
In reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods
Eleri shivered. The cold had descended quickly once the rain had stopped. If only the rain had stopped a little sooner, she could have made her way back home, but as it was, Eleri had allowed Jolly to persuade her to spend the night in Trustinghampton.
Pulling the goat wool blankets closer, Eleri gazed at the nearly full moon framed in the attic window, the crumbling castle ramparts faintly visible in the silver light. The scene reminded her of another moonlit night many years ago, not long after she had first arrived here with Alexandria and Lobbocks.
It had been a summer night, and long before Leroway had improvised a cooling system with ventilation shafts constructed with old drainage pipes, a particularly molten sweltering night, and Eleri had risen from her crumpled sweaty bed to find a breath of cooler air. Quietly she slipped through the door willing it not to creak too much and awaken anyone. The cobblestones felt deliciously cool on her bare feet and she climbed the winding street towards the castle, her senses swathed in the scents of night flowering dama de noche. Lady of the Night, she whispered. Perhaps there would be a breeze up there.
She paused at the castle gate archway and turned to view the sleeping village below. A light glimmered from the window of Leroway’s workshop, but otherwise the village houses were the still dark quiet of the dreaming night.
Eleri wandered through the castle grounds, alternately focused on watching her step, and pausing for a few moments, lost in thoughts. It was good, this community, there was a promising feeling about it. It wasn’t always easy, but the hardships seemed lighter with the spirit of adventure and enthusiasm. And it was much better up here than it had been in the Lowlands, there was no doubt about that.
Her brow furrowed when she recalled her last days down there, when leaving had become the only possible course of action. Don’t dwell on that, she admonished herself silently. She resumed her aimless strolling.
Behind the castle, on the opposite side to the village, the ground fell away in series of small plateaus. At certain times of the years when the rains came, these plateaus were green meadows sprinkled with daisies and grazing goats, but now they were crisply browned and dry underfoot. Striking rock formations loomed in the darkness, looking like gun metal where the moonlight shone on them. One of them was shaped like a chair, a flat stone seat with an upright stone wedged behind it. Eleri sat, appreciating the feel of the cool rock through her thin dress and on her bare legs.
It feels like a throne, she thought, just before slipping into a half sleep. The dreams came immediately, as if they had already started and she only needed to shift her attention away from the hot night in the castle to another world. Her cotton shift became a long heavy coarsely woven gown, and her head was weighed down somehow. She had to move her head very slowly and only from side to side. She knew not to look down because of the weight of the thing on her head.
Looking to her right, she saw him. “Micawber Minn, at your service,” he said with a cheeky grin. “At last, you have returned.”
Eleri awoke with a start. Touching her head, she realized the weighty head dress was gone, although there was a ring of indentation in her hair. Her heavy gown was gone too, although she could still feel the places where the prickly cloth had scratched her.
Suddenly aware of the thin material of her dress, she glanced to her right. He was still there!
Spellbound, Eleri gazed at the magnificent man beside her. Surely she was still dreaming! Such an arresting face, finely chiseled features and penetrating but amused eyes. Broad shoulders, flowing platinum locks, really there was not much to fault. What a stroke of luck to find such a man, and on such a romantic night. And what a perfect setting!
And yet, although she knew she had never met him before, he seemed familiar. Eleri shifted her position on the stone throne and inched closer to him. He leaned towards her, opening his arms. And she fell into the rapture.
