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  • #305

    Quintin couldn’t sleep.
    Now he was thinking, he had delayed it for too long.
    They all had been thinking of it, talking and glossing over it for so long. Some had dreamed of it, feared it, asked for it to bugger off. Lots of pains and struggles, but it had only been clever or not so clever ways to delay the unavoidable.

    Now, he had an urge to insert it. How come he had not thought of it before. All he had to do was insert it in his reality.
    Well, that would sure mean lots of changes, but after all, no pain no gain.
    Or no abundance.

    ABUNDANCE abun·dance [ ə-ˈbən-dəns ] “The ability to do what you need to do, when you need to do it”

    That’s how Pasha, a Russian friend of Dory had defined abundance — speaking of Dory, now Quintin was seeing how she was ahead of the herd, and a bit of a coal (slow) mine canary too. Quintin would have changed all the world’s dictionaries to have that new definition everywhere. What a task…

    Actually, that’s it! Quintin had feared the implications, as lots of people did.
    It would mean everything would be allowed. Everything would be true, even the most blatant contradictions would be harmoniously living side by side. Struggle would be needless, and all that would be needed to do would be to stop paddling upstream.
    What a mess it could be for salmons and control freaks as himself.

    Perhaps worse, it would change everything, even “past” events where everything would also be allowed, now.
    In-of-body travels (rather than the too classical “out-of-body”), meeting other selves appearing out of nowhere, talking with dead people, or sugarplum fairies, traveling instantaneously to meet Tchaikovsky and have him change his dying swan for a stuffed talking Mother Goose, flying, shape-shifting, manifesting objects out of thin air, the possibilities would be extraordinary… All in that physical reality where everyone was struggling to prove none of this was possible.
    But if everything would be allowed, then be it! And he would go and live in 23, Dragon Alley, Phœnix Ville, Sunnyvalley with Yann (and the others of course, if they wanted to) and do whatever they wanted to do.

    OK. That’s a deal then. Release the camouflages, open the watergates and leave the damn dams to beavers and loosers.

    Let’s insert the Shift, now.

    And let the fun continue, and worry wither away.

    ***

    Well, and what’s that Shift all about?

    Quintin’s friends Michaela and Elias had said about it :

    “You are also bored in the experiences that you have created to this point. You have experienced. You have created in the manner that you have designed previously. Now you choose to be creating in an expanded experience, allowing more of your awareness, more of an opening to consciousness, more of your own creativity and your own abilities, and you are discovering that your abilities are within physical focus limitless. You have merely limited yourselves as an element of your beliefs, but as you are also moving into acceptance of your beliefs, you are widening your awareness and you are allowing yourselves to view how many more abilities you hold and how very creative you are, and not creating your limitations with such severity. Those elements in your reality that have been thought to be impossible are not impossible!” 1

    #276
    F LoveF Love
    Participant

      Whanga the witch crawled out of the narrow entrance to her cosy cave to survey the day. Perfect witching weather she chuckled gleefully to herself; a tad overcast and cold, which made her job much easier, as even the fairies tended a little to despondency in such weather conditions. She noticed a bruise on her left shin and sighed. Whanga was used to this sort of misunderstanding in her job of course. She enjoyed her work, and was proud of what she did, however humans in particular just didn’t understand the service she provided, and were quick to be vengeful. The dream world left her a little exposed unless she remembered to do her protective spells before sleep, and last night she had just been too weary. Still, she thought cheering up considerably, she had obtained another wand for her collection yesterday, and felt sure this would improve her Witch of Loathing ranking.

      Still feeling a little put out though about the bruise, although this was mainly pride, as she was impervious to pain in the way the humans suffered it, Whanga looked into her glass ball to see what knowledge it would reveal. That little Fairy Princess from the Land of the Far White Cloud was carrying on she saw. Hmmm who was that fat lady with her though? Whanga wondered. She looked very familiar to Whanga, who felt a ripple of uneasiness in her right index finger, a sure sign of danger. This could be trouble ….

      She looked again and saw a young human female, attacking her violently in her dreams. For a moment Whanga toyed with the idea of revenge and cackled happily at the idea of all the mischief she could cause.

      Pull yourself together Whanga, said Whanga, drawing back reluctantly from this delightful daydream. Keep on track. You know it won’t get you any points with the high witch adjudicators, it is the fairies you must focus on.

      #304

      Írtak was playing with the dragon twins in the carved woodstones field. It was mostly faced shaped petrified wood that had been carved surely when it was still wood. The faces were quite hypnotic and made him feel often sleepy, but with the dragons he was feeling all his senses enhanced and sharpened. :face-glasses:

      The dragons were growing fast, hatched only a few days ago, they were already bigger than his father… He knew from Malvina that they could take whatever form they wanted, but he’d always thought that their power were developing from nothing to … something… but apparently they were already fully aware. Their leather skin was glowing emerald green, blended with some purple pink shades, or was it the contrary. It was changing so quickly. He was wondering what they were eating, because he wasn’t the one who was giving them any food. And still they were so big.
      Did they have a “real” form? Whatever that meant.

      One of the dragon gave him a mischievous glance and before he could anticipate what would happen, he was facing a growling troll :yahoo_time_out:. The troll was running right to him, seemingly crushing with his heavy body all the fragile woodstoned faces.

      All his attention was on the troll and he didn’t hear the man coming.
      And now the troll was freezed running and jumping forever… Írtak’s head was like a big storm of boulders falling from the sky. Growling, drumbling apart…

      — You have strange games with your dragons.
      — …

      He was gaping at the man… his skin was bluish with pink also and sometimes a bit of yellow.

      — Who are you?
      — Don’t you recognize me? :face-grin:

      Írtak tried to remember something. had he ever met that man before?

      — Oh right, it’s our first meeting… from your point of view. I’d forgotten that. But you see, for me our first meeting is in your future.
      — …

      Írtak was still gaping at the man, this strange skin of him, it was so ambrulin, that color he’d already see somewhere… was it in a dream?
      The man looked at him, and he felt for a moment a warm fuzzy feeling in his body… not particularly located in any part of it… and he would have… no, it was even in the woodstoned faces around him… how could he feel that?

      — Your dragons are wanting to take part in the fun, the man smiled. I’m going to let them go, as I’m not staying either.
      — Who are you? managed Írtak.

      :yahoo_alien:

      — I’m your father…
      :yahoo_alien:
      HAHAHAHAHAH! No actually that’s a private joke… I’m Andrimiñ (AndruhMiiñ?) we’ll meet again in a few years of your time. Your dragons are really interesting then, and so are you.

      Saying that, the time began to flow again in the right direction, the troll was still running toward him, but he suddenly slowed down and stopped, shape shifting into a bluish boy, with a face so similar to Andrimiñ.

      — Where’s the funny man? he said.

      #302
      F LoveF Love
      Participant

        Well I think I can answer that for you, said a small round green blobby creature, in response to Roselyn’s question. The creature had actually been sitting there all the time, however everyone had assumed it was some sort of exotic plant.

        Let me introduce myself, I am Frowdup, yes an unusual name I know. I am a long time and faithful friend to the dear little Fairy Princess, who is rather friendless at the moment owing to her extraordinarily antisocial behaviour , such as that which you see so sadly exhibited before you.

        Frowdup cleared his throat in an important and significant sort of way. I will try and relate this sad tale as succinctly and precisely as possible, he said.

        Our dear little Fairy Princess was the head Fairy Princess of the Hot Pink and Sky Blue bands of the North East Fairies from the Land of the Long White Cloud. Each Fairy Princess in her initiate years has a witch assigned to her, to help her develop her magical abilities. Our dear little Fairy Princess was designated one of the 13 Witches of Loathing, Whanga, from the far North of the North Island of the Land of the Long White Cloud.

        Dear Fairy Princess had her own cave which she took admirable pains to make sure was always fully stocked with sand. You know about the sand of course? I can see you are a woman of great stature, no offense intended, I mean I can see you are tremendously well versed in the ways of magic yourself, so you will know that some of the more basic ways of magic involve a symbolic representation of magical symbols, so to speak, such as sand and wands and whatnot sort of thingies. Really completely unnecessary, of course, as you will know, however for her, each grain of sand was the exact and precise equivalent of one wish, activated by a determined wave of her magic wand and the words abracadabra. Yes, I know, very primitive, but she is a very young initiate, although I will say she showed great potential had Whanga the Witch of Loathing not managed to convince her of her own lack of worth.

        Whanga was constantly and every single moment whispering in the ear of the Fairy Princess magic spells of self loathing. My young friend lacked the expertise to counteract these powerful spells and began to believe them. One day she was so sad at her own horridness that she could bear it no longer and put a spell on herself. This enabled her to curl up into a deep sleep of forgetfulness for a rather long time, enabling Whanga to easily procure said wand. In addition to this Whanga managed to obtain the source of the music which the Fairy Princess felt she required in order to help her to fly. When the dear little Fairy Princess awakened from her sleep, she was devastated by the loss of her wand and music, and still convinced of her own worthlessness you see this poor creature before you today.

        The poor creature had stopped sobbing and was glaring at Frowdup.

        #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.

        #262
        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          Fiona woke suddenly from a dream. In her dream she had been communicating with her online friends, through drawings and messages. She had been trying so hard to convey something, and the more she tried to say it, the more distant they felt to her.

          She had woken feeling saddened. Her energy was greatly disturbed, and, unable to get back to sleep straight away, she meditated. She felt herself connect with the energy of a Snowy Owl, who invited her wordlessly to ask her questions. The Owl’s eyes seemed to have such a depth of wisdom and kindness, and no sooner had her thoughts begun to ask their questions, than she would feel the Owl’s answer merge with her own knowing.

          She felt herself being able to say without words what she had tried so hard in her dream to convey, and understanding there was no need for any effort, she felt greatly comforted, and peaceful sleep swept over her again.

          #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.

          #257

          When Cuthbert came back to bed after having had his cup of cocoa, India Louise was awake too.

          — I saw him too, she said to her brother.
          — I don’t want to see him again, these books are scarey.
          — It’s intriguing, I want to know more, India Louise said, egging on him.
          — When I close my eyes, I got all these roots and webs crawling, it’s mad… I can’t…
          — He has found a friend to help him cross the Dark Forest to the traveling portal.
          — A friend?
          — Yes, a friend. She’s special.
          — Tell me more…
          — She’s a white unicorn, only him can see her.
          — Wow…
          — She’s named Mirÿnda. She’s glowing white, and he hears her speak in his mind, she shows him the way through the forest…

          :fleuron:

          — Mirÿnda?! A fool in saffron robe gallivanting in the forest with a unicorn now? That’s all you could find?

          Tina was taken aback…

          — Well, I could have used a grizzly bear too, now I think of it… Al answered flippantly.
          — Tsk tsk, replied Tina a bit annoyed. And why not a humpback whale, or an arctic lemming, or even… why, a leopard gecko for that matter?… And who’s that Mÿrinda anyway?

          :fleuron:

          — I don’t know any Amanda, Fiona said to Quintin that night. Don’t really know many of Michaela & Elias’ students. She’s Yann friend, right?

          Quintin had answered distractedly, as he was engrossed by his last painting…

          Later that night, he couldn’t find sleep, as the dragon he was painting was still expanding his web of roots and branches in his mind’s eye. He opened his computer to see that Malika was online.

          She told him something that night, something Quintin found abysmally profound and perplexing about his dragon…

          Dragons can shape shift, into anything they want to. There are several doorways/portals that they use for travel into this dimension. Malika said
          — Yes, said Quintin, this drawing has something to do with these portals initially, but I struggle a bit to represent them…
          Yes, so you can just depict it to be flowing, liquid-like energy in the center, when the portal is active.
          There are some that are being shone to me on the bottom of the ocean floor.
          What is being shown to me, is a dragon with a tail much like a mermaid, and hands with webs, big yellow eyes…

          Wow he had thought, she can really see.

          :fleuron:

          Jadra, guided by Mirÿnda, had been moving quite easily through the Dark Forest. Of course, he wouldn’t have dared touch the holy creature, and so he was walking hesitantly behind, taking care of where his bare feet were touching the ground.

          The Dark Forest was bordering the Marshes of Doom, and at times the limits between the two were almost indiscernible. It was said that every foul, err… fool… damn,…

          — Will you stop being so buffoonish! raved Tina again.
          — Perhaps I should let someone else continue then? said Albert.
          — Well, that’s entertaining, replied Becky mechanically.
          — OK. I’ll jump in, said Samuel, with a wide grin.

          It was said that every full moon, the Mighty Shrimp would come from the shores of the Southern Seas and haunt the Marshes in search for souls to be turned into krill, so that he could be the WALRUS (Wrathful Almighty Lord Ruler of Undersea Souls).

          Well, at least, that’s what Jadra had heard in his youth, when you tend to believe everything… So he was weary of the hiki-hiki sounds in the night that might have been the dreaded call of the Mighty Shrimp.

          :fleuron:

          Quintin was having a strange dream. He was a huge whale, along with another one he knew was Yann, swimming powerfully in the vast ocean, passing by strange creatures that could have been mermaids or improbable fishes, when his gaze was attracted by a stream of glittering particles of light.

          The lights were enticing, he would have said even “mouth-watering”, had he not had the baleens full of water already…

          :fleuron:

          Salome was moving through layers of consciousness, something humans focused in physical dimensions would have found difficult to grasp, as it was nothing that could be easily conceptualized. She was, as best as she could put, like a huge cloud of lightness coalescing into a form, when she decided to project her aspect.

          Taking form into a dimension required no effort in actuality, the consensus reality created by all the essences focused into the reality making quite a strong pull. She only needed to move her attention to what she wanted to manifest. Altering her reality slowly around her, to move closer to the desired effect.

          She was not only traveling through time and space, but also through multitudinous layers of dimensions unnoticed to many humans —in fact, she was not really moving, but that was a convenient way of telling things for humans…

          She said “humans”, because she was fond of this particular dimension, where she’d had lots of experiences.

          When moving through the dimensions, it had her projected focus of attention constantly and naturally adapt its form to the psychological environment.

          Here, she had just moved through a honey-drops dimension, where focuses were drops of golden honey-like substance, and as she moved through it, her own aspect had changed to that of a sand-glass shaped drop of honey.

          This was great fun for her to see the ease with which she could focus into this infinite variety of adventures, but for now, her pull was to some more complex physical dimensions.

          She started to move again, de-focusing, past the lazy honey drops.

          The honey drops were now shape-shifting to a whole immense field of snake-like strings of light, and they all started to converge to a direction. She knew the feeling. She followed the strong pull.

          #254
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Bill, the itinerant artist commissioned to paint portraits of the Wrick family, was uneasy. While he’d been staying in the castle with the eccentric family, he’d lost all track of linear time. It had been altogether too confusing, and his head was spinning. Manon the cook had sent a tray up to his room, with a pot of Earl grey tea, and a plate of Yorkshire parkin for his supper, when he’d claimed to be developing a mysterious ailment and begged leave to retire to his room.

            Bill splashed some malt whiskey into his cup of tea. A good long sleep was what he needed, and with a sigh he drained his cup and climbed into bed, pulling the heavy eiderdown up over his chin. He lay there for awhile staring into space, not really aware of his thoughts. An owl hooted from the oak tree outside his window. Twit whoohooo twit whoo hooooooo…

            Bill blinked and then frowned. On the top of the Queen Anne highboy facing the end of his bed was a large carved stone face. How odd, he thought, I don’t recall seeing that there before.

            #239
            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              As soon as Arona said “sand” she noticed an object sitting at the base of the coatstand.

              Funny I did not see that at first.

              It was very beautiful, a glass globe, with coloured sand in it.

              Yet she found herself stepping back, hesitant, wondering if it was some sort of a trick the dragon might be playing on her.

              Someone else joined her in the tunnel, it was the older lady who had soothed her to sleep and told her to use her magic. Her energy felt very beautiful to Arona, it was gentle and yet powerful, and it also had the feeling of laughter.

              Hello Arona, how is your hand?

              Oh, my hand is fine thank you, said Arona, feeling the pain in her left hand throbbing.

              The lady smiled. And how is the magic going?

              Oh good .. I have learned it is easy and I just have to believe in it. She hesitated ….. mind you the truth is I am still wandering around in these dark tunnels….but I do feel much better about it.

              What were you thinking about when you fell and hurt your hand?

              I was thinking about magic, and then when I fell I had a terrible feeling of doubt as to whether there was such a thing.

              Your hand holds a clue for you Arona, the answer to a riddle.

              Oh could you just tell me? I have been answering riddles ever since I got here.

              #236
              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                Arona hummed happily to herself. She felt so light without the cape and the tunnel was bathed in the gentle light of many glukenitches. Mandrake the cat followed along too, much to Arona’s delight, although she was a little hesitant to tell this to the grumpy cat

                Magic magic magic magic she hummed to herself

                Arona almost skipped along the tunnel, and, so wrapped up was she in thoughts of magic, that she tripped and fell heavily, hurting her left hand as she put it out to save herself

                Ouch, hells bells and warty wizards, she muttered, for it did hurt quite considerably… and then she had some scarey thoughts. She looked around and realised that really, the fact of the matter was, undeniably, that she was still lost in the darkish tunnel.

                What if I don’t believe in magic? and her happy mood plummeted.

                Oh fuch, she swore, and sat down on the cave floor. FUCH FUCH FUCH FUCH she shouted as loud as she possibly could, and in fact hurt her throat a little in the process and quite possibly the sensitive ears of many glukenitches.

                This blessed cave is doing my head in. I want to see the sunshine, or the rain, no matter, I don’t care what the weather is doing I JUST WANT TO BE OUT OF THIS CAVE.

                Ooops that was rather loud

                After coaxing Mandrake back, as he had retreated quite some distance at her outburst, she sat down and put her head in her hands and tried to think. Did she believe in magic? Well of course she had no choice. Life without magic was inconceivable to her.

                She felt a familiar tiredness sweep over her as she struggled to work it out. Perhaps I will just have a small sleep before I continue, and she curled up on the ground, wishing she had her heavy black cape to wrap around her.

                As she gave up the struggle and let sleep come she heard some soft words

                It’s easy Arona … magic is easy … it is the thread linking all to all

                ************

                A short while later she woke from her sleep, feeling refreshed and ready to continue.

                #227

                Jibberacky is…

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

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

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

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

                _

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

                _

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

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

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

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

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

                #211
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  Dory suddenly saw the funny side, and started to laugh. She sank down onto the curb and laughed until tears rolled down her cheeks. As she fished in her tool kit for a tissue, she noticed her flying sandals and collapsed into another fit of laughter.

                  Lalalalalala she said and hooted again.

                  Blowing her nose and still chuckling, Dory stood up and got into the van. Hehehehehehe she sputtered, how easy was that, ahahahaha….

                  She sank back into the long comfortably cushioned seat, and relaxed.

                  She closed her eyes and the van set off, the rolling and rocking over the bumpy roads soothing her and sending her into a deep and restful sleep.

                  #210
                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                    #202
                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      Jacqueline Bleomelen was a strict yet very affectionate nanny. Her Breton name being barely pronounceable by the English speaking kids she had at her charge, she was most of the time simply called Nanny.

                      Once, one of the rude kids from a previous home where she had been serving an atrociously callous French Count, had called her an Old Gibbon, referring to her wrinkled face. But she had a very light-hearted nature, and wouldn’t show any hint of taking offense.

                      Better, she liked the association with the playful and ingenious apes, and kept the moniker as it was more easily pronounced by the English kids she had in charge, and made them laugh that they could be so irreverent without facing punishment.

                      For special occasions, Jacqueline was wearing a funny costume that made the children often wonder why she had put some funny hat with little moth-feelers loose on her chin, but that, she had explained was a traditional dress from her homeland of Brittany.

                      Tonight, Jacqueline, or Nanny Gibbon, was having a funny dream, but perhaps that have been because she had been very excited by that excerpt she had read before going to sleep. As she was very pious, every night before going to bed, she would read a random quote of the Bible.

                      Last night it had been the Old Testament, from the Book of Joshua. It was about the conquest of the Promise Land, and talked about a king from Hazor named Jabin…

                      And in her dream, Jabin was a strange looking man, lost in the middle of ruins, who wanted to contact a woman about discoveries he had made in the Promise Land. He had found an entrance to a cave that had befuddled him. He hadn’t ventured too far into the cave, but anytime he had, he had found it impossibly deep and wide. So he wanted to share that discovery with that woman, but she was flying around in a parrot-coloured ballet tutu, on top of a three-humped flying camel…

                      Even the rigorous Jacqueline couldn’t repress a laugh at the unlikely images that her tired mind had produced.

                      #200
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        Lord Wrick was reading a bedtime story to his great grandson, Cuthbert. A huge open fire roared beneath the stone mantelpiece, and cast tall flickering shadows in the dark corners of the room. Cuthbert snuggled in to his great grandad, who pulled the red tartan shawl up under his chin. The Orkney Islands were cold in September, and a chill draught was ever present in the ancient castle. Cuthbert’s twin sister India Louise had already been taken to bed by Nanny Gibbon, who would read her a story in the nursery.

                        “Back from the depths of his sleep, the dragon Naasir exhaled in a puff of smoke” read Great grandfather Wrick. “He’d just woven a wonderful dream…”

                        A parcel had arrived at the castle yesterday, delivered by a travelling artist, who had been invited to paint portraits of the Wrick family. There was no message with the parcel, and the artist, Bill Jobsworth, explained that an old woman in black had given it to him at the crossroads, asking him to deliver it to Cuthbert and India Louise Wrick.

                        #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.

                        #187
                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

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

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

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

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

                          #186
                          F LoveF Love
                          Participant

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

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

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

                            Use your magic, she had said.

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

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

                            :fleuron: :fleuron: :fleuron:

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

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

                            No, thank YOU, replied the sleepy glukenitch.

                            :fleuron: :fleuron: :fleuron:

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

                            Why sad?

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

                            You always know, just feel it

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

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

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

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

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

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

                            Doesn’t the little girl feel left out?

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

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

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

                            :fleuron: :fleuron: :fleuron:

                            Arona returned to the cave.

                            You look troubled

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

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

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

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

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

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

                            Well I gave her the same advice, years ago.

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

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

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

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

                            Dance Arona, she heard the woman’s voice

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

                            It doesn’t matter

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

                            :fleuron: :fleuron: :fleuron:

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

                            Things are shifting she said

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

                            Feel the answer

                            Arona felt. I am very hungry, eggceptionally so.

                            #184

                            The transmugrification was about to start.

                            Inspired by the improvised tune of Malvina, Leörmn had felt new arrangements coming for the cave.

                            He had been checking out every living being in the cave, and wanted to make things less complicated for them, without startling them too much. For creatures, that was easy, he could communicate well with them, and they knew the changes would be temporary.

                            But for humans, let alone gripshawks, that was more difficult as they could play deaf as pleased them.

                            Hopefully, the gripshawk was in good hands outside the cave, and that was probably better for her, as she would probably have hurt herself more than was necessary in not listening to the exhortations to stay calm.

                            As for the young adventuress, she was sleeping joyfully, and the little glukenitch that Leörmn had left to her side to keep watch and warn him in case she would be too distressed was silently watching over her.

                            Írtak was aware that the process was about to begin, as he had been trained by Malvina to listen to the flimsiest changes in the cave, and how his body was responding to these subtle modifications. This one would probably become of great dragon rider, but for now he was young and needed to hone his abilities. His father had been renouncing of telling him what was best and most reasonable for him to do, and allowed him to spend much time in the cave. He was not really interested by these magical things, but he knew they were important for his son, and was encouraging, in his own manner.

                            As for Malvina, she was unaffected in a way, because she was part of Leörmn as much as he was a part of her, and it was like they were moving hand in hand. These hiding and seeking the eggs were like a playful game between them, because their interests were different, but all in all, they were one, and trusted each other completely.

                            The more troublesome was perhaps Sanso, the wanderer. This one seemed trapped in between Worlds. The caves at times also acted as portals between Worlds, and this one had been unknowingly crossing the Worlds, as the delimitations between imagination and reality were only in words, and did not really exist. Leörmn was hoping he would not appear in the midst of the ruckus.

                            So, on one of the wooden decks near the apartments of Malvina, he sat, overlooking the glowing eggs, and bathing into the music.

                            Closing his eyes, he felt every part of the cave as if it were an extension of his own body, which was in fact much bigger than this current appearance, so big in fact that it was the World itself. And every creature breathing in it was a very cherished part of his body, and he slowly breathed in and out.

                            He envisioned a great light pouring from the volcanic insides of the cavern, which inundated the cave in a misty warmth. It was a loving light that neither glukenitches nor schpurniatz feared. And the sinuous insides of the caves expanded and straightened in huge corridors, and doors disappeared, and gorgeous paintings from the mind and craft of Malvina decorated the walls in rich colours.

                            And near the platform, inside the hall, a huge table sprung from the floor, for the banquet that was to come.

                            And a new egg was laid somewhere in the cave, glowing of an emerald tint.

                            This “one” was a bit different though…

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