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  • #271
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      And yet….and yet….it’s so familiar! Bill climbed out of bed, eyes fixed on the stone carved head on top of the tallboy, and went over for a closer look. He reached up and touched the cool smooth stone, and then leaned back against the bedpost, stroking his chin, transfixed.

      I must be dreaming, he thought, this just doesn’t make sense. And yet…..I’ve seen this before! The images flitted through Bill’s mind, not just this stone head, but other stone heads, all different but all linked somehow, and all so familiar.

      Bill didn’t hear the soft tapping on the door at first. Bill! psstt, Bill! Open the door, it’s me, India……

      #269

      Malvina had been busy opening doors for herself, and thus, for the All.

      Creating the sabulmantium with Leörmn had revealed new potentials to her. And just before putting the final touch to the device, she had felt engulfed in a huge wave and before she knew it, she was talking with someone. A great creative power, which was stemming from herself, and also from which she stemmed too.

      It had named itself Naasir.

      It had revealed to her, in the form of a dark abyss, myriads of unknown potentials waiting for her to leap in faith into them. It had gently requested that she release her hold on the caves openings, so that she could explore more, and also bring more to herself.

      Then Naasir took the form of a great dragon in that abyss, from which roots were growing and pushing their way, slowly and surely, into the rich soil towards the light of their fullness.

      She had then seen the dragon’s arched back and tail shift into a chain of spiked rocks, separating the worlds seas in two. Three of the scales on the right of the dragon’s skin were glimmering, and she could see they were looking for a passage.

      Would she allow that to happen? Yes, she wanted to. Open the doorways, and reunite what was separate, but gently, one at a time.

      Slowly, the kite-shaped rocky plates on the back of the dragon moved apart, to open a slight, safe passage for the glimmering scales. They were caught in the eddies that surged from the opening, but Malvina’s focus helped them to float and cross safely, as they wanted to.

      She then came back to herself, seated in front of the glass-shell dragon egg filled with coloured sand, awed with that power she had just felt through her. She knew it was her own power, and that the device had only allowed it to be expressed, but she had felt wary of how the sabulmantium could be used by others.

      At the same time, Leörmn who was once again the tiny weaszchilla trotting on the wooden table in front of her had laughed squeakingly. And looking at the toy in front of her, she had understood how it could only be used by those who would see beyond the thinly veiled surface. For the uncaring eye, this would only be a toy, mundane and without interest, but for the pure of heart, its help could be harnessed.

      That’s how she’d knew she did not need it any longer, and could release it.

      So, the doors had been opened, and people were feeling the new jewels sparkling behind the dark passages. And gifts from friends could now come across the veils.

      Malvina saw that during the last transmugrification, Leörmn had created an entrance near her laboratory, and it was as if it beckoned her now.

      When she entered, she saw a guéridon table in the middle of a moistly pungent room. On the table, a polished egg was here. She recognized it at once. It had an azure blue glow to it, and fond memories came back to her.

      Back then, she was a young Sorceress in training on the Island of Mörk, in the middle of the Icy Lands, the birth and dying place of the dragons.

      This egg was one from a set of three. It was the first glubolín she’d ever made, along with her two companions. They had kept it to communicate with each other when they parted.

      Malvina, the youngest of the three, had kept the azure blue, and chose to go to the Dragon Head Peninsula.

      Oörlaith had kept the mauve, and went near the town of Kapalÿka, on the Snimeÿa River delta bordering the Marshes of Doom.

      As for Roselÿn, the eldest of the three, she had taken the amber one, and had went as far as anyone would have dared go, flying on her spiked dragon Rëgkvist, past the Great Rift.

      They had kept in touch, but contacts had been more and more sporadic as each were discovering their own new environments, and had ceased altogether, almost at the same time.

      As far as she knew, Roselÿn had been starting her own rookery in the sandy ice deserts of Åsgurdy, mostly hiding there from the superstitious people of that land. And Oörlaith, whom she was closest to, had been devising another funny way to keep people away from her rookery. Her own dragon, the playful Andarión, was shape-shifting as a huge shrimp to pretend that the surroundings were haunted.

      Recalling all these moment, Malvina laughed at how silly they all were, and felt a long to be connecting again with her friends. Would anyone of them be around their own glubolíns?

      #261

      In searching for a sheet of paper to do some sketches of images going through his mind, Bill found an old poem he had started a long time ago, when he was feeling like he was completely transforming himself. He had not finished the poem, but had kept it all along…

      It said:

      I’ve been wandering through the valleys of death
      Where time knows no ending and all is gray
      And shadows seek nothing but oblivion itself
      In mazes of mist, minds’ errands led astray…

      Perhaps it was time to let go of useless things, Bill thought to himself.

      He watched the paper slowly smoldering and shrinking and falling to black and white cinders into the hearth.

      :fleuron:

      Before going to sleep that night, Quintin had the sensation of Janice’s presence. He was surprised, because she was no longer the little girl he had seen at times, but she was a very pretty young woman, with dark wavy hair.

      She had giggled at his surprise, telling him that yes, she was catching up with him…

      :fleuron:

      The City, year 2255 (%)

      Today was Janice’s birthday, but not her birthday as the Ancients, two and half a century from her time, would have counted it. It was counted from the time of the conception, as the future parents in this time were fully aware of the agreements they would have with the soul they would decide to give birth to.

      It was a reminder of this agreement between the parents and the child that was celebrated, and not the actual birth date.

      Janice had felt Cyprus’ presence quite strongly, and she decided to let herself open to the subjective communication. She was conversing with her friend Qixi, and sent her some energy to let her know she would probably remove her attention for a few moments, knowing she would be accepting.

      When she closed her eyes, she could immediately feel herself engulfed by the strong yet smooth energy of Cyprus; it was like being kissed by a swarm of blue sparkling butterflies.

      Then she opened her eyes.

      She was in an ancient classroom, with Cyprus focused as a teacher figure. Cyprus was seated behind her desk and came at once to great Janice.

      — Good morning!
      — Good morning Cyprus, you wanted to say something to me?
      — In actuality, you wanted me to tell you something, answered Cyprus with a mysterious smile.
      — Yes, I thought so. Is it about what I am choosing to do as an activity?
      — Correct.
      — You are aware that I want to be creating of worlds, and give them to people that would have commissioned them…
      — Yes, I am aware. And you wanted me to highlight some misconceptions about that.
      — Oh, misconceptions?
      — Yes. As you know, with these worlds that you create, you have infinite potential of explorations. You also know that they are not independent from the rest, even when you take great care of encapsulating them in an energy field. And as such, they are not cut-off from yourself, as soon as you deliver them.
      — It feels like a tremendous responsibility.
      — It is, and it is not. The responsibility is to yourself, as always. But, I wanted you to be aware that you hold some responsibility, to examine your own injections into these worlds that you create, so that you can be neutralizing what is not desired, and not merely hiding it deeper inside the world itself.
      — OK, I will do that…
      — Ahaha, there is another thing, my dear.
      — Oooh…
      — You also wanted me to make sure you understood what I meant.
      — Ahahaha, I see. Wiggling out won’t be as easy as I thought, Janice said with a smile. So, is it the reason for this classroom?
      — Nothing is hidden from you, as always.

      So Janice took a look at the sheet of paper on top of her own school desk.

      — I’ll be around if you need me, reassured Cyprus.
      — Thank you, said Janice

      The paper was like a spot test, with a few questions on it.

      :fleuron2:

      Study on a Few Contradictory Beliefs

      1. GUILT

      a. An old lord has lost contact with his son, because of harsh things said in the past.

      Write a short story about him realizing how guilt is not effective, and how past can be changed from the point of present by direct action.

      b. Detail the main beliefs you can see associated with this action of guilt.

      2. FEAR

      a. A man chooses to be disengaging by drowning in a river. During his transition, he faces his fears, helped in that by a friendly spirit. The fears take the forms of a forest of trees, all similar, with branches and malicious roots extending to him. In his previous life, the man thought he was a fool, as an excuse to stand out of the numb crowd. But now he faces this crowd again, only to be able to go on his journey and let go.

      Write a short paragraph about his journey. Place yourself from the perspective of both him and the friendly spirit guiding him through his fears, and see how he helps himself in realizing he does not need to push the fears away, and that they can disappear easily.

      b. Detail the beliefs associated with his madness, that he needs to let go of in order to be crossing the forest, and go to the Bridge of Daffoldils that leads to his cave of Self.

      DUPLICITY

      In association with the last two examples, detail how duplicity (belief in good versus bad) is influencing of each of the actions, and can be neutralised by accepting self and trusting that you shall not betray yourself.

      :fleuron:

      Janice gave her paper to Cyprus, who took it and held it for a moment, evaluating the answers.

      Cyprus then made it burst into a bluish dancing flame, and when the paper had disappeared, smiled at Janice lovingly.

      #260
      F LoveF Love
      Participant

        Arona and Mandrake sat side by side looking into the glass ball filled with sand. They had been practising for some time, and had both become quite proficient at shifting the sand.

        So what shall we make now Mandrake? Something we both like maybe?

        A fish perhaps? suggested Mandrake

        Oh excellent idea! and no sooner was it thought of than the sand would shift accordingly.

        Scrambled eggs I think too, on chunks of homemade bread, said the still hungry Arona, and chocolate!

        Some milk for me, said Mandrake

        Hmmm not sure about that Mandrake. Lots of cats have allergies to cows milk.

        Mandrake rolled his eyes And chocolate might make you fat, he said, but was I so rude as to mention it? and Mandrake created a hairy cow, and a farmer to milk the cow.

        Arona laughed, and created a little sand langoat, just in case the stubborn Mandrake changed his mind. Langoat’s milk would be much better for him she thought.

        The glass ball was now filled with a miniature world of sand objects.

        Arona leaned back against the wall and stroked Mandrake. She felt very fond of the grumpy cat. The feeling of being able to create whatever she wanted had been fun. Perhaps, she thought, her creations were rather rudimental at this stage, but then already she could feel bigger things brewing within her as her confidence grew. She felt as though the sand game had focused her, like a beam of light which shone only on that which was intended.

        Arona closed her eyes and allowed her mind to open and reach out, something she knew she had always been able to do easily, but her fear of the “madness” had made her cautious and hide these abilities, till she became unsure of them. The “madness” was the term the people in her Village had given to the poor wretched wandering ones, who claimed to hear voices and communicate with Gods. Once as a child she had seen the Villagers drive one of these poor souls from the Village, shouting and abusing him. She did not really understand what he had done, only that the Villagers were afraid of him. So Arona had felt it was better to keep some things to herself.

        Arona left her mind open and allowed images to enter. Some of the images she did not understand, and she let them flow on, enjoying the energy of them notwithstanding. She saw a dragon, it was not the one with the mouthful of riddles, but another one, a baby one she felt. Her ability to see pictures was quite rusty, but she felt a connection with this baby dragon and a great fondness for it.

        She felt a great peacefulness in her body, a knowledge that walking in the world of magic would be easier from now on

        #259

        Jadra slept fitfully. He was in the forest and he dreamed of a great tidal wave sweeping over him. He was holding on for dear life to the branches of a tree while angry faces swept by him in the water, shouting abuse at him, although he could not make out the words.

        “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me” he shouted back.

        But then, to his horror he saw his left hand separate from his arm and he could no longer hold on. He saw his hand being swept out to sea and all that mattered was that he find it again. He let to of the safety of the tree and felt himself being pulled by the waves.

        Jadra awoke trembling and shaking in terror. He looked for his left hand on the end of his arm, where it should be, but he could not see it. He knew what had happened. He had thrown his hand in the river. He thought it was sticks and stones he had thrown in, but he had been mistaken. He knew that now. He had to go and find his hand in the river.

        Jadra felt such anguish. Not so clever Jadra Iamaman. You stupid old Fool

        Forgive me! he shouted to the Gods. Whimpering in pain he rushed back the way he had come, back through the forest to the spot where he had last seen his hand. He threw himself into the water and dived down deep, not caring he could not swim, only knowing his hand was in there somewhere.

        ***

        There were very few people around that early in the morning, but a small boy saw Jadra go in the water and stood watching. He waited and waited, and when he knew for sure there was something wrong he raised the alarm.

        ***

        Jadra felt a great peacefulness sweep over him. He stopped fighting and abandoned himself to the mighty current of the water. A unicorn swam by him in the water and whispered to him she would take him to safely home.

        ***

        They pulled Jadra’s body from the water a mile down river.

        #253

        Everywhere Jadra went he could feel hostile eyes upon him. He knew why of course; he knew they were jealous because he had been favoured by the Gods. So he kept his hand safely hidden, wrapped in his shirt

        Jadra had a plan. He put his shirt back on and pulled the sleeve on the left arm down as far as it would go, till his left hand could no longer be seen. He modelled a new hand roughly out of twigs and plants and walked to the river. On the way he shouted at the top of his voice CURSED HAND, YOU HAVE GIVEN ME NOTHING BUT GRIEF. I WOULD RATHER NOT HAVE A HAND THAN HAVE SUCH A WICKED, EVIL APPENDAGE ATTACHED TO MY BODY.

        After shouting such sentiments till his voice was hoarse and he knew he had drawn sufficient attention he threw the hand in the river. He had cunningly weighted the hand with pebbles he had found in a cave so it would sink to the bottom of the river.

        GOOD RIDDANCE HAND. MAY YOU ROT IN THE BOTTOM OF THIS RIVER AND NEVER AGAIN INFLICT YOUR EVIL ON ANY OTHER POOR UNSUSPECTING SOUL.

        HA! He thought, tremendously pleased with himself for executing such a perfectly clever plan. That should throw the evil hounds off the scent of Jadra Iamamad.

        He felt he was not far from the cave now.

        #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.

        #221

        Bådul was pondering at the bow of his boat.

        His boat was not the largest his people had made, but it was all he had been afforded by the King of Åsgurdy, Swartulf II. Two others vassals who had been very impressed by Bådul’s delivery and determination had allotted him two other smaller ships.

        The ships were tailored for the high seas, and in many ways were not unlike what Quintin’s Viking ancestors would have called a snekkja , or a kind of dragon boat. The three ships had been sailing alongside, for more than forty days now, very easily through the Northern Seas.

        Bådul was pondering, because it had been twenty days more than any known explorer had been allowing themselves to go West (or East, for that matter), and his crew was manifesting some hints of doubts.

        He was pondering also, because for the glimpses of that route that he saw through the boy’s mind, he knew that he was heading towards some kind of passageway in between the Great Rift, a chain of sub-oceanic volcanic mountains, that were showing on the surface, and likely to be treacherous, and full of eddies. Jahiz, his faithful commander in second was a skilled mariner and Bådul knew he could trust him, at least for these sailing matters.

        A myna bird that Jahiz had brought with him was periodically sent as a scout in the vast seas in front of them, to report any trouble that may lay ahead.

        And now, as Badul was still pondering he had still not seen the damn foul-mouthed bird back, some seamen started to shout, as a black point was appearing in the midst of dark clouds.

        And finally, Rudy the myna (which was actually named Mercurius but that had been too long to pronounce for the rough crew) landed like a wet grenade at the feet of Badul howling “Mind your backs! Mind your backs!

        #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.

        #172
        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          But the brave front Arona had put on for the dragon crumbled as she looked at the door.

          She sat down on the ground and started to cry, and once she started she found she could not stop.

          She was so afraid. The courage she felt earlier had deserted her and been replaced by a sadness she did not really even fathom herself.

          I am tired of this no man’s land, this endless searching. And I am so afraid that behind the door is just yet another dark tunnel. I hate riddles, people should say what they mean, and yes, I am very tired of this heavy black cape.

          And so saying Arona angrily took off the cape and threw it to the ground.

          She cried and cried and cried, and the little glukenitch lying unseen in the darkest corner luxuriated in the extra dampness her tears added to the ground.

          When she had done crying she found her strength again, enough to keep going with the journey

          #161
          Jib
          Participant

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

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

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

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

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

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

            #141

            Dory had been taking some days of vacation in Madagascar, as she had delayed that break in her passionate archeology studies for much too long already. But it was now the beginning of the rainy season, and there hadn’t been much people here in her hotel, which was not displeasing at all, even if she usually liked more exchanges.

            Hopefully, today had been a bright sunny day, a sort of relief in between torrents of rains that had poured, and she had seen some organized excursion which had caught her eye. A funny enticing winking lemur picture on a wall, when she had walked to have her breakfast, and that was all she’d needed to enlist.

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