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  • #384
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      Sumelfi had already tried to nudge Becky into adopting a nine-tailed fox for cleaning up some of her stuff, but she had repeatedly delayed it.

      At least, she had whispered in Becky’s ears, with the fox, I can teach the little thing some tricks to eat out the crappy stuff, so that you can make a good impression.
      Well, she loathed to compare, but at least she never had to be assigned to Tina, as her dusting skills were irreproachable.

      Becky was considering… Better a nine-tailed fox than nine fox puppies… She had seen some of the new advertised creatures in the Pup’ shop on her way to Sam the other day, and that could be fun.

      #356

      Oh said Arona. All of a sudden she knew she had to be somewhere. She handed the sabulmantium to Sanso.

      She walked, and then she stopped and she waited.

      She did not have to wait long before they appeared. A stocky dwarf, whose presence, despite his small stature, immediately inspired respect. He was accompanied by a young woman, tall and graceful, with shiny golden hair. She was very pretty, but it was the peaceful expression on her face which really caught Arona’s attention. The woman was cradling an infant in her arms.

      Palani, the dwarf, smiled at Arona and held out some food for her. Some aromatic orange fruit she had never seen before, however she was so hungry by now she devoured it greedily.

      Your magic is powerful, said Palani. Arona wanted to deny it, but found she couldn’t. So she just nodded.

      The woman smiled. Here she said, holding the infant out to Arona. This is for you.

      Caught off guard Arona took the baby.

      I really am having the strangest time, she thought. She had no idea what to do with the baby, or why she was the one to look after it. But she held it carefully.

      Wait! she shouted urgently, as they walked away

      Why have you given me this baby. I can’t look after it. Are you coming back? At least tell me what is the baby’s name?

      They didn’t answer.

      Yikes said Arona.

      #342
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        Al was concerned about Tina. He wondered why at times it was like their moods were at the antipodes of each other. Like one was in summer when the other one was in winter. Of course, seasons had gone awfully awry in the past (well, in people’s perception at least), and cherry trees were at times blooming in the late autumn, so that was hardly a good metaphore. Enfin bref…
        Sometimes he wished they could move to a part of the Earth were the differences were leveled or not so dramatic, but of course, that would be focusing unduly on what seems awry, and not appreciating the differences for what they brought in understanding for each other.

        Like most people now, Tina and him were living in a free relationship, not bonded by written contracts, just by a mutual wish to be experiencing a common exploration. But lately, especially with the play writing, deep issues had surfaced between them, and he was no longer sure of what they were exploring, as it was like shifting sands. Of course, now, most people were shifted themselves, thanks to the new generations of children who were exceptionally gifted in accessing their own essence. But for them, in their mid-30s, there were still issues linked to their old patterns of thoughts, many deeply ingrained ways of thinking, coming from many generations before them.
        That T.R.A.P. attraction thing was a good example of the differences. It was mostly an attraction park for his generation, not really for children, as they were greatly able of doing these kinds of inner-travels without the aid of technology —not that they didn’t enjoy it either.

        Al was thinking of a gift for Tina. He wanted to show her that she had really transformed Jadra, or that they had come a long way since the wandering in the cave tunnels, or that everything started to make sense, even the invisible friend Blohmul…
        Well, there were still mysteries around him, (not mysteries really, but things yet at the state of seeds, or potentials) but he was no longer a hair on the soup they cooked. He was the blue fox of Mævel, and more interestingly, that cursed god was the son of Mirÿnda, the Goddess of Mirth —but that, Tina had not realized yet…

        Actually, now that he was looking at the entry, Al noticed that Jadra was last seen with Mirÿnda, and that struck him as something more than a coincidence…

        #327

        The rain was pouring cabbages :weather-showers: for several days now, almost the whole week… Baul was fed up with that filthy weather of Cromash Tur. The capital of this 4th kingdom was quite nice and pleasurable, but it lacked sun and warmth… Baul had come to Nâabooli, the capital of Cromash, in order to settle an arrangement. Something quite particular that he couldn’t find in his own land of Erpet Mesh. He’d been travelling for weeks with his guards and servants when he arrived in the city and all that for some foo’kin rain! But something more important than brooding and pouting was on his mind.

        Tonight he was alone, no servant, no guard… he was wearing a black coat made of goat skin on his usual blue and yellow silk robe, he couldn’t wear anything else, his skin was too smooth and delicate. He was spending great amount of money to take care of his body, it was his own pride, and he considered himself as a very handsome and appealing male.

        The man he was about to meet wasn’t hiding, but oddly was acting in full sight. Nonetheless, Baul didn’t want to be seen with him, Baul was an ambassador of sort from Erpet and he couldn’t be seen entering in an Assassin’s house. In Cromash, the Assassins were quite a respectable and wealthy, but in Erpet they were outlaw… one of the numerous differences between the two kingdoms, one they would never agree upon. Baul found it quite useful though; many times he’d met Ar’Am Khra, one of the best of this profession.

        For this meeting, as always, Baul had chosen a tavern, the Landgurdy, called after one of the former 12 kingdoms. The 4 remaining ones were at war most of the times, they couldn’t maintain peace more than a few years at best, and Baul had found many ways of benefiting of this situation. Merchant, Ambassador, and much more. He was thriving with plotting :face-angel: :face-devil-grin: and it was quite useful to be one of the ambassadors of Erpet Mesh, offering him safety wherever he was going. It was one of the few respected rules that were common between the Warring Kingdoms.

        The Landgurdy was quite a crowded tavern, and the owner was a friend of his, though not really officially. There was that private room on the rear of the building, know only of a few chosen “friends”, so they could enter unnoticed by the usual customers and by would be spies. The rear door was seemingly leading into another building, and some arrangements had been made over the years.

        Baul knocked the code at the door, and a vasistas was open quickly and closed even more quickly. The door opened then and he entered in the darkness of the house. If anyone opened the door, he or she wasn’t there anymore, but Baul knew the place quite well as it wasn’t his first meeting with the Assassin.

        :fleuron:

        The Assassin was waiting in the small room, square shaped with only a wood table and one chair. No window. One dim lamp.
        He was sitting on the lone carved chair. His clients needn’t sit.
        They were mere beggers.
        The one that was coming now, was quite amusing.
        The first time he met him, Baul was quite young and inexperienced in his own skills. Though he was quite ambitious, Ar’Am Khra had to admit it.
        The usual reaction when seeing the Assassin’s pale complexion was shivers and disgust. He was used to it and it was a game that he had enhanced with a little bluish glowing dagger tattooed on his forehead.
        The dagger was the mark of his profession, though not so obviously exhibited by the others. Cowards.
        At that first meeting, Baul didn’t react the way his other clients did. And it was not influenced by his utmost concerns at that time. Beside his inexperience he was quite engrossed in what he had called his “mission”.
        Ar’Am Khra did not know of any mission, there were merely contracts.
        And he was doing what his clients were paying for.
        Accomplishing his contract even after the death of his clients.

        He was remembering of an amusing event.
        A client had hired him to end the life of another man, and the second man went a few days after to his office to beg him to kill the first man.
        The Assassin accepted the contract.
        A few days later he killed the second man.
        He executed the first one not long after that, thus respecting the second contract. :yahoo_skull:

        He never questioned the motives of his clients.
        It was not for him to judge or to understand. Though most of the time he did understand quite well.
        His main motivation was the payment and his own pride in expressing his skill with subtleties and newness.

        The door opened smoothly. Baul entered the room.

        :yahoo_alien:

        :fleuron:

        Yann and Quintin had an interesting chat during the afternoon. Yann had some new impressions about the map of Lord Wrick annotated by Quintin. Something about the Warring Kingdoms, triggered by a dream of an Assassin in one of them. It was frustrating not to be in the same room so Yann could show Quintin directly on the map, but with Internet there were some other options.

        The names of these lands were Ata’Meliu, Dam Adbor, Erpet Mesh and Cromash Tur. These 4 Kingdoms were rather scattered on the Lan’Ork part of the continent, pieces and bits everywhere, though Ata’Meliu was more in the center and the South of the Lan’Ork, Dam Adbor in the East and in the North, and Cromash Tur in the West and South West parts, Erpet was divided in 2 main areas, one located on the Northern land just before the Isthmus of Ghört’s Hammer, and a smaller one lost in the middle of Ata’Meliu.

        Yann only had the impression of 2 of the capitals, Naat Medin was the one of Erpet Mesh and Nâabooli of Cromash Tur.

        Quintin just sent him the map so he could draw some more comments and sketch the boundaries of the Warring Kingdoms. He didn’t know why, but he felt some movements were about to begin, some reconfigurations of the borders :world:

        #326
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          The unusual overwhelming heat, which had begun with the spring equinox had finally temporarily receded with the appearance of big opaque cumulonimbus filling the sky with a mute thunderous sound. The flickering glow was no longer enough for Raphael to distinguish the small dark characters dancing before his eyes, the storm having let the night pounce on them earlier than it should have.
          So, Raphael closed his thick leather-bound book and put it back into his burgundy backpack bag, inhaling deeply the air of the dusk, mollified by the music of the raindrops that ricocheted now discreetly on the rusty steel plates.

          The remaining passengers began to hurry around a meager dinner wrapped in dirty newspaper sheets, displaying energy resources that he felt incapable of. Feeling no hunger at all, he decided to go on the pontoon to taste the moisture exuding in the evening, this celestial water, soothing down the fever of this trip, which drew to a close. The boat continued to rend imperturbably through the obsidian sea, and the thick enveloping fog prevented them to distinguish the lights of the city that he could feel at a distance.

          This was not the first time, but at each of his return, the city seemed changed, this time ghostly apparition, once glittering pearl. This was undoubtedly one of the reasons which had him leave it, as others would have done with a lover, to better appreciate this fleeting moment of reunion.
          The book had been given to him by a stranger he had met, and was part of his mission; he didn’t usually accept assignments in this city where he was too obvious, but the stranger had assured him nothing illegal would be required of him, just delivering a book.
          He had leafed through the book, just to make sure there was no foul play on the part of this strange man with amber eyes that seemed to keep changing colours. But the book had seemed innocuous. Even worse, it did not make any sense for Raphael. The chapters were randomly numbered, and the text seemed to keep changing. Perhaps it was Raphael’s mind which played tricks on him, but it was baffling for him, as he was accustomed to keep his senses sharp as a dagger. Whatever,… The man had paid, and a plump pile of money even.

          The insistent rumors of a mysterious illness which had already claimed fatalities within the walls of the city had not deterred him to go there —knowing that the few people caring about him would have preferred to see him flee this destination, so certain as they were to be themselves immune to the contingencies of life. Even the bald adipose captain of the ship, Fat Yong Choi had seemed wary of having a pale-skinned foreigner coming on board of his boat, but he had quickly seen that Raphael was no common traveler.

          But there was no longer time to rehash those turpitudes, the harbour finally appearing, like a halo glow from the contours of which some faint sounds escaped, soon to be stifled by the purring and cracking of the bulging vessel.

          :fleuron:

          The winds began to sweep the docks violently, causing the cargo, now anchored, to oscillate wildly, like a huge weeble at the hands of the elements. Fortunately, due to the alarming news from the city, the boat was only half full, and the unloading was smooth. Raphael, unnerved by the long journey, only wanted to walk, but patiently followed the slow pace of the procession which led him outside of the harbour’s enclosure, even before he had noticed it.

          Raphael wanted above all to rest, but didn’t care to be bothered speaking to someone. He preferred to sink deep down in his thoughts while walking through the streets, rather than lose this feeling of freedom. Freedom to choose his own itinerary, without a word to say, entirely open to the silence of the streets.

          The fine drizzle had indeed deserted the streets making the city infinitely enjoyable for him. It was indeed just as he liked it best, at dusk, just faintly resonating with the sound of his own steps.
          Empty — a few passersby in search of a shelter nearby. He imagined to be a ghost haunting these places without life, enjoying the feeling of being the predator felinely prowling in this scene without spectators, shrouded in the reassuring complicity of the night.

          #317

          Ibn al’ Gruk was weary.
          That lone grake he had seen flying over the desert settlement this morning had baffled him.
          Usually, such creatures where not migrating at this season, and this one was lone too, which was all the more baffling.

          The old gripshawk had seen many things in his life, but this was surely a presage of importance. In the myths of his people, the big colourful birds were once thriving in the desert oasis, where they were thought to have appeared in the Old Times. But having been extensively hunted down as food for the gripshawk tribes, they had moved away, and the balance had been broken.
          It had prompted lots of the tribes to move apart, in search of food and exchanges, and few of them were now still living in the deserts as they did in the old ways. Many of them, for many generations now, had been creating cities on the coast, and the most flourishing one was Chafik’ An, where a traveling portal had been erected by the humans from Lan’Ork to facilitate exchanges and trades.

          All of that, despite his old age (that his long mop of white angora hair under his chin could account for), Ibn al’ Gruk had only heard all of this through the lineage of his ancestors, but he had seen some of the conflicts that had been created, and he understood that change again was in the air.

          He felt like he could weave a new tale to entertain the settlement tonight, and perhaps give them inkling as to the new changes to come.
          For he felt changes were coming, and that they had been in motion already.

          ***

          The night was clear, and lots of people had gathered around the big bonfire. They all loved these regular meetings where everyone would meet and share food, drinks and over all, gaiety.

          He started to drum low deep sounds and cleared his throat.
          A fit of cough got him by surprise, but it was just a hairball that he spat in the fire, which set ablaze immediately, providing some dramatic effect that hushed everyone down.

          “In a mysterious land far far away,” started Ibn al’ Gruk, with a growling voice…

          ***

          Egypt, 2657 B.C.

          Lekshen had dreamt of Set that night. The god had appeared to him in one of his familiar forms, that of a long snouted animal .
          Lekhsen was wondering why the god had requested such a task for him to do, but he was certainly in the perfect position to accomplish such a task.
          Like Set, Lekhsen came from Upper Egypt, the arid land, and he had managed to get a high-ranking responsibility in fertile Lower Egypt as a scribe thanks to the unification efforts of Pharaoh.

          But Pharaoh’s daughter had just died… right after her 10 year old brother, and Pharaoh’s himself felt He would not live much longer.
          Which would mean that the closest male in the family would be likely to get on the throne of Egypt. And that would be bad news for people like him, as the brothers and brothers-in-law of Pharaoh did not appreciate much His policy.

          In the dream, the strange creature had asked him to hide something with the mummy of Pharaoh’s daughter. It had told him people would forget about how Set was fighting for Ra, the Sun, each night that the bark was traveling on the dangerous underworld waters. They would forget, and would demonise him and his people, and he, Lekhsen would have to write the story, and bury it with the Princess. His status would allow him to do it unscathed.

          “Would people ever remember they once were One?” had asked Lekshen to the god.
          “Only you can tell” had the creature answered.

          #1448
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            http://www.north-of-africa.com/article.php3?id_article=418

            This might be a better link for the comment about the connection between Egypt and Tuaregs :) :weather-clear:

            as well as the Egypt connection :

            At Jabbaren, he found a city with alleys, cross-roads and squares. The walls were covered with hundreds of paintings. Jabbaren is a Tuareg word meaning “giants” and the name refers to the paintings found inside the city, some of which depict human figures that are indeed gigantic in size. One of them measured up to eighteen feet high. Several of these paintings depicted “Martians” and for Lhote, it was the first time he discovered paintings of hundreds of oxen. Jabbaren was soon labelled one of the oldest sites of the Tassili.

            I think the mummy may be 6 meters tall………(Rahim told me that the tombs there were extraordinarily long….and we did have a giant enter the story ….) :yahoo_thinking:

            ~~~~~~~~~

            AND: The Tassili n’Ajjer

            …..the Hoggar Mountains and the Tassili n’Ajjer, one of the most enchanting mountain ranges on this planet……

            There were largely two forms of rock paintings, distinguishable by the location in which they were found. Some were found in rock shelters, such as at Aouanrhet. These sites were where the shaman performed his divination, as the face of a rock was often seen as a doorway to another dimension (another parallel with the paintings in the French caves).

            (this reminds me of Oversoul Seven! # book by Jane Roberts)

            Though one could interpret their location as the work of a nomadic people, Lhote’s team also found several urban settlements.
            He found small concentrations of human activity around Tan-Zoumiatak in the Tin Abou Teka massif. It was a little rocky citadel that dominated the gorge below. The citadel was cut through with a number of narrow alleys. Lhote described the art he found here as: “There were life-size figures painted in red ochre, archers with muscular arms and legs, enormous ‘cats’, many scenes with cattle, war-chariots and so forth. Up to this time I had never seen figures of this sort in the Tassili and the mass of paintings that I managed to view that day quite put into the shade all those I had seen up to then.”

            more:

            http://www.philipcoppens.com/tassili.html

            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            ENORMOUS CATS?????? :yahoo_surprise:

            #298

            The City, year 2257

            Janice had just awoken from a strange dream, where she was watching big round cabbages being harvested in what looked like Quintin’s father garden. They were all firmly rooted on a black irrigation pole across the garden, and people were using strange devices to turn them all delicately and pick them afterwards. In the dream, there were black puppies too, sleeping in the straw of a kind of hut nearby. And she had seen another creature, and had been surprised first because it was unlike anything she had ever met, even in dreams. It was hairless and brown as soft mud, and was hiding in the neighbour’s garden. Then it had crossed and came to play with her…

            Janice was lost in her thoughts strolling on the way to the common dome, when she met Rodney, her father’s friend.
            They had been recently trying with her father Jacob, and also Qixi to connect with their shifting focuses of the Ancients, two centuries and half before their time.
            Some of them, they had found, had been playing a sort of game of story-telling and clue-sowing… (Janice was laughing as her father’s friend, the scientist Arkandin, always insisted on seesawing instead)

            Perhaps her dream was telling her that the crop was ripe, and it was time to harvest some from it. She told her dream to Rodney. All at once, he was quite excited and they started to feel they wanted to chat more freely. So they went into one of the Medraw Caps that was available and soon imagined a comfortable environment for themselves to explore more.

            Janice could hear Al or Quintin complain about how things were getting confusing.
            She tried to convey to both of them that they could be excited about it, as it was expanding their understanding, but they weren’t very receptive.

            ~~~

            Somewhere Al was saying to Becky
            — The more you try to fix it, the more confused I am
            — Hahahahah yes! Becky was answering, I guess so! Ahahahah! Al, what a fabulous dance of confusion we do… The Confundo Tango
            — Ahahah, yes!

            Al started again to moan:
            — So who’s dead, who’s the shapeshifter? Who’s the human, who’s the cat? :-??

            (Rodney was laughing, as for him, he could accept the confusion as much easier, letting him free to wander around!)

            — Illi was a woman, a shapeshifter who shape-shifted into a cat, then, she died. Becky was saying (Rodney added mentally “Now, she is disengaged” as he knew that “death” was a confusing word.) She was an archaeologist
            — Okay, that’s cool, that’s what I thought, Al acquiesced. Then thought back of what was said of her and wondered… Anyway, it will probably find a perfect answer …
            Becky nodded
            — I got lost myself when two Illis appeared, and a grip-thing as well
            — Because I didn’t want the grip-thing to be dead! Al couldn’t help but laugh. That would have been too easy, like wiggling out. Not using your imagination within the context of objective imagery to sort out “things”…

            ~~~

            While Rodney and Janice were seeing that their other focuses were kind of stuck in their explanation, they had time freeze and both decided to come back to their “now” to start from their understanding.
            A funny thought had come to Janice, that she shared with Rodney.
            — Oh, the funny thing you know, about Becky having written to Sean…
            Rodney nodded. Janice continued:
            — It just appeared in my mind just moments ago, at the same time you (well, Rafaela) inserted into the story of Malvina. That Becky would have been asking Sean something, and that perhaps it would have helped him talk to his father in the future.

            — Well, that Sean is SUCH AN ENIGMA! bumped Rodney a bit excited by the implications.
            — What do you mean? asked Janice, who just remembered that Sean Doran has a cousin named Dorean.
            — Who is he? Where is he? was asking Rodney now.
            Rodney was having a hard time remembering what had been inserted yet in the story about him.

            So Janice manifested the Wrick family tree in front of them, so that he could see better. She started by manifesting an acorn, then threw in on the grass, and it sprung forth in a little sapling with signs hanging from its branches.

            — Well, it’s all in the script, answered Janice, he’s Lord Wrick’s son.
            — Oh boy, I am in trouble again for not keeping up with the facts! Rodney sighed, and laughed…
            Janice laughed “So that you can surprise yourself again!”

            Rodney felt thankful for the sumafiness of Janice who was always prompt to display helpful hallucinations and reminders.

            Janice stopped the growth of the family tree for a moment and started to comment it.
            — See, in Becky’s time of the reality play, Sean is Lord’s Wrick son, and has just lost his wife Margaret, and got his two young children around their 10s.
            — When is Becky’s time then? Rodney wondered, I hadn’t though of that…
            — Becky’s time for the reality play is around 2033…
            Then Janice had the tree grow again, and sprout more branches from Sean’s children:
            — …Now, Sean is the grand-father of the twins, except than the twin’s time is around 2057 if it had not changed yet. It’s so carefully woven, but it’s fun how it effortlessly came to fit in.
            TRUST AND ALLOWING AND GOING WITH THE FLOW cried Rodney and Janice in unison, in the realisation of how well all this was.

            Rodney was beginning to remember it all.
            — I just remember the part about Sean, so he is still a bit of a mystery
            — Yes, absolutely
            — We don’t really know do we why Hilarion didn’t mention him
            — Oh, there’s also the Margaret newspaper thing… Janice fumbled in her memory to find the proper link that would display the image of the newspaper cut just at the right of the family tree. Adding with a wink “with more dates to get bearings”
            — Ahahah, I’d love to have pocketfuls of ball bearings said Rodney who manifested a pocketful to distract him from the load of information. OH YES! he cried, I had forgetten about this! What an incredibly HUGE story this is…

            Rodney was squinting his dream eyes
            — So, Sean was into humanitarian effort after 2001…
            — His father actually I think, said Janice. He was a bit too young.
            — Oh OK, I misread, that’s hard to read!

            Then, all of a second, Rodney erupted in an uproarious laugh
            AHAHAHA, I had just forgotten to de-hallucinate these pince-nez spectacles! Now, it is much easier to read!
            Janice was laughing so hard, she thought she would shatter the hallucination with the wobbles of the soundless sounds.
            Then she added:

            — Sean is born around 2000, a bit before.
            — OK, maybe he went to help the Tuaregs, Rodney was accessing some information now. Maybe he was the one who put the mummy in the locked room that India found.
            — You know I had something funny in store for the mummy mystery, Janice couldn’t help but laugh again. I imagined we could have inserted Old Manon, coming down to secretly drink from her old malt whiskey’s flask, and finding them messing up with her old dear stuffed cat…
            — Maybe the mummy was the same one that Dory saw in the oblong hole in the ground outside the cave, Rodney was still accessing flickering images swirling around his head. And Sean was there helping the Tuaregs and moved it to safety.
            Of course, years previously, Illi Fergusson, the archeologist had buried the mummy there too for safe keeping.

            Now, Janice was hooked:
            — Was it where Illi learned about shapeshifting tricks from the old tribe?
            Rodney noticed Janice’s funny remark and laughed before continuing:
            — The Tuaregs were conducting secret coleslaw experiments in the desert. In combination with sound and irrigation techniques, they were going to run the entire Sahara into a broccoli field.

            Janice was amazed at the cabbage “coincidence” and irrigation stuff with her dream of that morning. Of course she knew there where probably mis-interpretation of the imagery coming from Rodney’s visions, but something made sense.
            — Around which year? she asked
            — Arrggh I don’t know!… Then, taking a breath of dream air, Rodney said “1923”. When Illi learned shape-shifting trick, 1923.
            — It makes sense, said Janice who was now thinking of other dispersed informations about Illi Fergusson.
            — Yes, she learned from Dashine Ashara… Although who that is, I don’t yet know.
            — Wow, said Janice. She had felt a connection with the “da’sheen” sound. She continued: somewhere, Illi Fergusson has said: “my parents were aristocrats”
            — Yes, answered Rodney who was accessing again, they were, and they knew the Wildes .
            — And it was said too: “[…] a nurturing presence that reminded Illi of the maid she and her parents had in their cottage in South Africa”… like her parents were traveling a lot.
            — Ah, South Africa! Illi’s parents emigrated to South Africa with Sir Abingdon Portfellow, an elderly scholar on ancient artifacts and embalming.
            — Seems she knew John Lubbock too, said Janice again, reviving old data banks of information. Dates seem okay, so if she was around 30 in the Tuareg adventure, she could have met him.
            — Wow, said Rodney, this is even more interesting…

            “But we may sit at home and yet be in all quarters of the earth.” Janice had just summoned the voice of the naturalist and archaeologist. Rodney applauded “Lubbock said that? cool quote!”.
            — Yes, like Illi’s quote, which was from him “What we see depends mainly on what we look for”. I wonder if that’s one of your (Illi’s) overlapping focuses, said Janice…

            — Well, Illi didnt stay long in South Africa with boring old whatever his name was, Rodney pursued
            — Yes, she was young with her parents. They were traveling…

            They were both amazed at the magical cooperation they were doing at that moment. Janice would have loved to share all of that with Qixi and Jacob, but probably their energies were present at the moment too, though not focused here.

            She then remembered something else:
            — Oh, and there is something else! Quintin’s dream of the woman detective. Let me fetch it she said, summoning now Quintin’s memory to talk to them.
            … 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, the woman detective feels linked to the story, and is probably Dory…
            Date fits again, she said in awe.
            — Perfect! said Rodney. She was of course Dory too, but in that focus she was Illi Fergusson… he slowed down, then said No! wait! The detective was another one of my focuses. The archeologist who stole the mummy for safekeeping was Illi.
            — Hmmm
            — Hmmm
            — So you are both the thief and the detective, the one who creates mystery for yourself, how interesting, giggled Janice.
            — Yes, and not only that Janice! Rodney was taking a mysterious air… I am the mummy too!

            Janice bust out laughing imagining Rodney in bandages. Yes, of course!
            Then, she had a name come with that: Apsh’un Shet she said, very self-absorbed.
            Now, that was Rodney’s turn to burst out laughing.
            — “I am not sure about that!”
            — Doubting my insights… mmm, how rude… Janice frowned then laughed again.
            — If you call me that, I may have to make you out to have a speech impediment
            — Sounds a good Egyptian name for me though, seems it means “Light of the Dawn”
            — Does it? Oh that sounds nice…
            — Well, in some Egyptian dialect, yes. She was a Princess…
            — Hahaha! Reminds me of Aspen Shit. Rodney doubted Janice could be serious about that name, but Janice was now the one to be accessing some information.
            — Bit bossy Princess
            — Which dynasty?
            III rd, answered Janice, who fumbled in links of consciousness to find some timeline to project for them.
            — What year?
            Janice projected the timeline below then said
            — I’d say around 2657 B.C., in Ancients way of telling time.

            They both marveled at the splendid team work they had been doing, and hoped that the other focuses involved would be able to get some parts of their insights too.

            Rodney was seeing something else
            — There is also, a very fascinating link between Tassili in the Sahara and Egypt which is a mystery AND there is a connection with Egypt and Scotland too…
            — Illi the gripshawk comes from the mysterious land of the Sands, south of the map fragment
            — We may unravel more than we think… Illi is an other dimensional focus of the Illi essence…
            — Yes she is. She is a connection too, being “lost” in the land of dragons after hopping through traveling portals…
            — Exactly
            — And they communicated because they are helping each other
            — Which is why she doesn’t always ‘fit’ into this reality’s energy configuration
            — And they have some difficulties at times with translations of other dimensional stuff
            — Yes! resulting in confusion!

            And they both laughed again, looking at the great tapestry of clues that was woven before their dream eyes.

            #290
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              Well, I’m sorry to have to tell you Becky Pooh, but your script is getting awfully confusing… Al was saying swaying his head in dismay.
              — What?! Becky nearly spluttered her cappuccino on Tina who was munching marshmallows at the cafeteria of the rehearsal room.
              — Yes, you see… Al was once again lost in his thoughts… This Illi is driving me crazy, once she’s here, then she’s elsewhere. At one moment you said she was dead, and I went to great extents to try to clarify…
              — Muddle, interrupted Becky Pooh, Muddle…
              — … the whole thing, Al continued imperturbably, and made clear, or so I thought, that the Illi cat was alive, and the Illi human was indeed dead, but now Tina makes the Illi in the dream of little Chiara the cat again… Could you both explain what happens. I’m completely lost.
              AHAHAH, LOST! cried Becky so insanely, so that all of the others looked at her with eyes wide as saucers.
              — Well, there could be lots of explanations of course, interjected Sam, whose energy was always soothing to incorporate in the midst of heated discussions on the reality play they were all writing.
              — Yes, of course there are! It all makes perfect sense, said Becky.
              — Oh sure, said Tina, except that you don’t really make Illi do anything…
              — Do I?
              — Well, they were near the cave, but you won’t face the scaly stinky dragons anyway, said Al a bit disappointed.
              — Why can’t you imagine them all fluffy and pink if it’s easier for you? said Sam. Like Chinese dragons, why not? A bit dog-headed, wouldn’t that be easier for you?
              — Mmmm. Becky was pondering.

              — And what were your suggestions to explain that insane dream? asked Al to Sam.
              — Mmm, let me see… Perhaps it’s from another timeline. No one has said when that dream has occurred, so it may be before, or after the events happening right now.
              — And for the cat seen by Chiara, said Tina gently, that could just be her seeing the essence of Illi, and seeing other of her personalities…
              — Well, seems to make sense… acknowledged Al and Sam, all turning to Becky to see if she agreed.

              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                This is a thread for referencing terms, creatures and other funny words that may be useful to find easily…
                Don’t hesitate to post your suggestions below, that I will integrate later.

                Races

                • Dragons
                • Gripshawks [ ˈgrip-ˌshȯk ]: feline-like race.
                • Humans
                • Uglings

                Creatures

                • capricorn [ ˈka-pri-ˌkȯrn ]: goat-like fish-tailed aquatic creature
                • fincheon [ ˈfin-chən ]: grey ugly birds, with the particularity of being extremely discreet (almost invisible) with a great sense of orientation, and loyalty to their owner. They are mostly used as message deliverers
                • glukenitch [ ˈglu̇-ˌken-nitch ] (Gripshawk dialect: [ ˈglu̇k-ˌnitch ]) : Slimy wet creatures fearing light, sharing one mind, found in Malvina’s cave. Useful recyclers of garbage, their droppings emit a glowing bluish halo, until they dry up completely and coalesce into a glassy substance.
                • golfindel [ ˈgōl-ˌfin-dəl ] : golden coloured cetacean, found in Golfindely.
                • grake [ ˈgrāk ]: big birds of Golfindely, with colours like mandarin ducks and shaped as geese.
                • indogo [ ˈin-dō-ˌgō ]: blue type of flamingo living in the Eastern Lagunas of Lan’ork.
                • langoat [ ˈlan-ˌgōt ]: daft three-eyed goat-like creature living in the Dragon Head Peninsula, the wool of which has many magical uses (enchanted cloaks, tapestries etc.). Their milk is known to have remarkable healing powers too.
                • marmoth [ ˈmär-məth ]: big toothed hibernating woolliphants
                • saurhse [ ˈsȯr-əs ] : bidepal saurian used as a mount in Asgurdy.
                • schpurniatz [ ˈshpər-ˌniats ] : bat-like creatures, found in dark caves.
                • sparfly [ ˈspär-ˌflī ] : birds usually seen in couples, loving to nest in silgreen trees, and their songs is one of the Treasure of the Worlds.
                • weaszchilla [ ˈwēz-ˌchi-lə ]: little mouse-like ferret

                Magical Artefacts

                • buntifluën [ ˈbənti-ˌflün ] (or [ ˈbau̇nti-ˌflün ]): A magical artefact having in most of its variations the form of a knot-like object, which allows the wearer or bearer to communicate directly with the energy of sentient beings.
                • glubolín [ ˈglü-bȯ-ˌlin ]: A device made from unhatched dragon eggs of the same brood, that allows people to communicate through it.
                • sabulmantium [ ˈsā-bəl-ˌman(t)-shəm ] (or [ ˈsā-bu̇l-ˌman(t)-shəm ]): A device made from rare unhatched dragon egg with crystalline transparent shells, which is filled with sands. May be used as a divination device or as a compass, in any case as an intent focusing device.

                Plants

                • buckberry [ ˈbək-ˌbe-rē ]: fruit of wild buckberries shrubs, in the form of big electric blue-vermilion reddish berries, known to have thwarted all attempts to be grown in gardens.
                • grogonut [ ˈgrō-ˌgə-nət ] tree: a tree indigenous of the warm coasts of Golfindely, known to provide grogonuts, which have a wide range of uses (food, drinks, cups etc.) depending on the maturation level of the nut.
                • silgreen [ ˈsil-ˈgrēn ] tree: a big decorative shrub, blooming sparkling flowers of emerald and silver once every moon. Leafs can have medicinal use too.

                More here later…

                #79
                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  These are excerpts from Yuki’s diary, explaining some of the details of the experiment called — Malvina’s story —.

                  Note: for the reader not familiar with all the names here is a quick reminder:

                  • Araili > Yann, Írtak, Sam, Jacob …
                  • Armelle > Fiona, Arona, Tina, Qixi …
                  • Rafaela > Dory, Illi, Becky, Rodney …
                  • Yuki > Quintin, Al, Janice …

                  September 12 th, 2007

                  Today, an experiment has been launched by Quintin. Time will tell if it will bear some fruit, but the idea sounds good.
                  Having people join in a story telling, and see what happens, what are the “lessons” one can draw from this…

                  Armelle, Rafaela and Araili are already on the starting-blocks, though Quintin is not quite aware yet.

                  I can hear some thoughts: Let’s say for the moment that there are no rules. We will see what prompts the desire for having rules…

                  September 13 th

                  Some of the people familiar with Janice and her friends’ adventures have already joined in with much enthusiasm.
                  This first comment seems very promising.

                  Right now, it feels easy and fun.

                  Quintin seems to think that everything is very straightforward.
                  The magical world with the cave in one part, separated from the “real” world. (Two Worlds, and he thinks that will be enough to content Rafaela, ahaha, how presumptuous)
                  The first he sees as a representation of what psychologists think of as “subconscious”, and the other being the conscious, physical part.

                  But of course, he thinks he knows better than that. He calls the first one “subjective” rather than subconscious, because it’s a translation of subjects which unfold in many related objects in the “objective” or physical world.
                  That’s a good point, though a bit distorted. It would be better to say Malvina’s World is a translation of the subjective, in the manner of a Heroic Dimension.
                  But the thing is, that he missed the point in thinking one World is more “real” than the other.
                  We’ll be having some fun soon…

                  First remark… The second comment of the story has been interrupted abruptly in the middle of a sentence. That is interesting. We will urge Quintin to leave it as it is, despite his feeling of it being awkward.
                  We will appeal to his imagination.
                  It seems he has heard the suggestion.

                  September 14 th

                  For the most part, the story starts to get much involvement. Lots of energies are being projected into it, and with every adjunct, each participant’s perception stretches to accommodate the changes and smooth out the bumps in their own sense of continuity.

                  But as I expected, some challenges seem to appear already.
                  Is it raining or not in that world?
                  The question seems simple, but it is very profound and Fiona seems to struggle a bit with it, as is Quintin. The question frame itself [“that World”] shows where the difficulty lies.

                  He seems to avoid the discrepancy and pretend that he has not seen it. Mmmm, avoiding the obstacles… that will very soon come right back in front of you dear Quintin, for Dory is quite playful.
                  At least Fiona has been challenging Dory for not paying attention… Armelle’s ineffable loving ruthlessness!
                  How will it unfold?
                  Rafaela seems to be delighting herself as though she’s preparing some mischief, but Dory struggles in the “back”…

                  September 15 th

                  Dory is indeed very playful and her imagination is unrestrained. I extend much appreciation to this focus of Rafaela, especially as Quintin has to stretch his imagination to make things “fit”.

                  Quintin is still avoiding the issues that appear sporadically and prefers to stay focused on his own perception of the story… Careful Quintin :face-smile:

                  Yann joins the fun —objectively, that is, for Araili has been present already since the very beginning.

                  September 16 th

                  Halcyons days…
                  My dear friend Archie is answering some of Quintin and Yann’s questions.
                  Something starts to dawn on Quintin. But his mind is on other matters.

                  He understands that the energies of the writers are melding in writing the story, but he still tends to think that they blend completely.

                  September 18 th

                  Quintin has been drawing some of the characters of the story. It’s interesting.
                  He had good insights, as Yann will tell him later that his clothes today were exactly the same as the colours he had drawn.

                  Characters drawn:

                  • Mavina, Leörmn the dragon and weaszchilla, Írtak, Huÿgens (and Fjutch), Arona and Illi (the gripshawk)
                  • Malika, Quintin, Yann, Fiona and Dory

                  Interestingly, Fiona resolves her issues in her cave.
                  Dory too, but she did not need the cave to do this.

                  September 21 st

                  For Quintin, the story seems to lose all common sense, as some characters move from World to World. You could have expected that Quintin!
                  And Dory pops in and out, in her mind, in her dream state, or in future timeline mixed with present or past one.
                  Quintin will soon realize that he himself is doing this constantly, though he does not register it.

                  But the worst thing for him is that there are bleedthroughs in between Worlds. The Reality Times newspaper was brilliant Rafaela, a perfect trigger for the beliefs that the Worlds are closed and impermeable to each other!

                  Archie has been answering new questions about that story and this had been quite interesting for all of the participants.
                  There is much for them to digest from the realization that each of them had been creating their own versions of the stories through their perceptions. And that they were each having their version of the story, drawing from each other’s input, like a conductor of an orchestra incorporating some instruments.

                  Of course, some things still matter, and one of the point of the story is also to discover these.

                  September 22 nd

                  Quintin has been drawing new characters.

                  Characters drawn:

                  • Båd Al’Guz (Bådul), BelleDora, Buckberry the dragon, the twin dragon eggs, Archibald the parrot, Sanso the Wanderer
                  • Illi Fergusson, another Illi that Quintin has tried to sneak in as a bait for Dory, with hints that she is disengaged (or “dead” in common vernacular) and merges with others of her focuses…
                  • Jacqueline Bleomelen (Nanny Gibbon), Lord Wrick, his great grand children the twins Cuthbert and India Louise, Manfred, William P. Jobsworth the painter

                  A new perception trick: Dory felt relieved upon seeing the moth feelers of BelleDora.
                  She had at first thought they were whiskers, which was not Quintin’s intent…

                  September 23 rd

                  Quintin seems to have connected to a map drawn by Lord Wrick, when the old Lord has started to document his great grand children travels.

                  Quintin had tried to put some annotations on this fragment, but he doesn’t yet completely understand that his perception of this World, though accurate, is only valid in this present moment, and may change at any time.

                  Up to now, here are the names he could find:

                  • North: the Icy Lands, and Dragon Cemeteries
                  • Center: Goldfindely, homeland of Arona, connected to the Warring Kingdoms of Lan’ork by the Isthmus of Ghört’s Hammer. The Isthmus of the Dragon Head seems to lead to Malvina’s cave and hideout. Mount Elok’ram is pointed as the highest place of the World yet discovered. Three main rivers are drawn: in the ancient myths of the people of this land, they represent the three Daughters of Ghört, weavers of men’s destinies: Tibreÿa, Uleÿa, and Snimeÿa. Snimeÿa cuts the thread of life, which is shown as the river leads after many meanders to the Marshes of Doom.
                  • Far East, North: the Land of Båd Al’Guz, Åsgurdy. A harsh mountainous land of islands and seas.
                    Both parts of the World seem to ignore each other till now, as they are separated by the Great Rift, which in the past has deterred many intrepid navigators.
                  • South: the Desert Lands. Illi’s birthplace, rarely explored by humans thus unaware of most of its marvels, gripshawks nomadic tribes included.

                  When he discussed Arona’s village with Fiona, Quintin had the vision of some dolphin-like creatures, but bright yellow. They are called golfindels and are mostly seen on the northern shores of Arona’s homeland, which is thus called Golfindely.

                  #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.

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