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  • #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.

    #1446
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      Oh is there? :face-surprise:

      Anyway, not to sound too bossy, but perhaps you want to ask about the latest instalments…
      Finn is a cool name they say:

      Means “fair” or “white” in Gaelic. Fionn mac Cumhail was a legendary Irish hero who became all-wise by eating an enchanted salmon. He fought against the giant Fomors with his son Oisin and grandson Oscar.

      Cool :yahoo_cool:

      #279

      Once Illi had realized she was dead and could ‘go’ anywhere she liked simply by creating the ‘place’ around her, she decided to take a long relaxing holiday on a deserted tropical island. She would float in the warm lagoon, feast on coconuts and pina coladas and mangoes, play with the dancing lemurs and build fantastic sand castles on the beaches. As she visualized it, it appeared as if by magic all around her…the sun warm on her head, the sand between her toes, the gentle breeze fragrant with exotic blooms and the sound of gossiping parrots filled her senses. She closed her eyes and flung her arms wide in appreciation for the physical joys she had recreated, breathed deeply and relaxed for the first time since she had died. Finally, she felt like she knew where she was, even if that ‘somewhere’ was as ‘nowhere’ as ‘anywhere’ else, just another ‘elsewhere’ really…..

      Illi stretched out on her back on the golden sand and squinted up at the cloudless deep blue sky. How nice, she thought, not to have any aches and pains, not to have to worry about shifting and those bloody belief systems, how simply lovely to just BE, with no perceived responsibilities, no interruptions…

      Just then out of the corner of her eye, Illi saw movement in the sky. Something was descending onto the island. Illi couldn’t make out what it was, and wished she had a pair of binoculars. Silly Illi, she said to herself, reaching for the binoculars that had appeared beside her. I keep forgetting I can create anything at all.

      Holy Moly! A great fat roly poly nun with a huge jolly grin was wafting down from the heavens, with an irridescent turquoise fairy in tow. They were landing on her island! We’ll see about that! Illi jumped to her feet and stomped off the beach and into the mangroves, sloshing angrily through the watery roots….. until she realized she could hover above the ground, which was a much easier way to travel.

      Hovering was much quieter too, and the jolly fat nun and the bluegreen fairy were quite unaware that Illi was peering at them from behind a peachy hibiscus bush. In fact, the blooms on the hibiscus had grown to a most ridiculous size, and Illi could hardly see past them. She hovered to the side a bit, and decided on impulse to make her presence known to the intruders.

      BOUH! :yahoo_skull:

      #1343
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        :face-surprise: Oh, too bad, so many people sounded quite exciting though :bounce:

        #1468
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          :yahoo_idea:Well, that all sounds rather technical to me, I think I need a fairy helper from fairyland to magically assist me with technical details, I think I’ll call my helper Tekka…no, Tikka…WAIT! I already have a fairy helper, her name is Tiki! So THAT’S who she is! The little cutie that appeared as if by magic in my mailbox is my tech support fairy godmother!:yahoo_tongue: :yahoo_idea: :yahoo_big_grin:

          #277
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            You are very fat, said Chiara to Roselyn

            And she laughed. Yes, I am

            My Nana is fat, but not as fat as you.

            Roselyn seemed to consider this for a moment, and then laughed again. Would you like to go on an adventure with me?

            Chiara was not quite sure. An adventure sounded quite fun, however she had some beliefs you were not supposed to go off with strangers, however nice they may seem. But Roselyn did seem familiar to her.

            Where would we go?

            We would fly to Fairy Land, replied Roselyn

            This offer was way too tempting for Chiara to decline

            Oh yes!

            Take my hand then, and close your eyes tightly.

            Next thing they were flying through the air. Chiara loved the feeling of flying, she often went flying in her dreams. She giggled with delight as Roselyn, no longer seeming to be impeded by her fat body, effortlessly did flips and twirls in the air.

            The colour of the world around them changed, the blue sky became all the shades of the rainbow. Down below, Chiara could see an island in the middle of the sea, which sparkled like broken glass in a kaleidoscope of shifting colours.

            Roselyn guided them gently down to the island.

            Chiara gazed around, speechless with wonder and delight and then nearly jumped out of her skin as a loud voice behind her shouted “BOUH!”

            ******

            NB: What is Fairy Land like? Well, if you like gigantic flowers, bright colours, and the possibility of unexpected magical happenings, you would probably quite enjoy it. There is loads of spontaneous singing and dancing which can be a little unnerving at first for the uninitiated. You have to be prepared to go with the flow in Fairy Land because the creatures that live there don’t have the same rules as those that come from the “real world” (whatever that is), and many of them tend to be quite mischievous.

            #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.

              #274

              Pssst Arona, over here, Mandrake hissed

              Mandrake there you are, what ever are you doing. I was so worried I had lost you!

              Mandrake was quite touched, but managed not to show it

              I couldn’t stand all the snorting anymore.

              Ahahhaahh laughed Arona, I know, so funny, he sounded like a little pigbouh

              Anyway Mandrake, don’t you worry, I am no fool, no way would I just blindly trot off after someone who said ‘when I gets an urge, I gets an urge, and I follows it.’ That’s mad.

              Sanso, realising that Arona was no longer following him, returned.

              Well I think we should use the power of the sabulmantium rather than just blindly trot off down endless tunnels said Mandrake

              Good thinking! said Sanso enthusiastically. Yes, much better than my daft idea. Good plan Madrake!

              Mandrake actually corrected the cat, huffily

              To be honest, said Arona honestly, I didn’t really understand all that technical stuff Sanso. So how exactly does this work? Hmmm wish that dragon or someone would turn up now and explain it clearly and succinctly in plain language that we can all understand. I get how to move the sand but then what? How does the compass thingy work?

              #270

              Oörlaith heard the sound of a barking dog not far from her rookery. They were back with his master, and she knew at once their mission was complete.

              A few months ago she had met a strange man, he told her he was called Leonard, and the funny black dog that was following him everywhere was called Moufle. An ancient word for mitten… Well she didn’t ask why he’d call him like that, the dog was so hairy…

              Leonard was a lonely traveller, quite ancient as she could feel, but she wasn’t able to know his actual age. And there were some other weird feelings when she was focusing on his energy tone, something to do with time itself.

              When she first met him she knew he was the one she was looking for for ages. It’s been such a long time she hadn’t heard from her sisters. Oörlaith’d been having these dreams since they chose different direction many years ago, Malvina and Roselÿn, her precious ones. It wasn’t necessary for her then to keep objective contact with them through the glubolín.

              One year ago, the dreams stopped abruptly, and she tried several methods to reach her sisters. None of them with success. All her attempts failed, and she thought first she had lost her own power, but she knew one can not loose power of self, just forget it or create it on purpose. She realized then it was time to recreate these links more objectively.

              She couldn’t find her glubolín though. And Leonard arrived. Fortunately enough he had news from some strange events occurring in the land where she knew Malvina had settled her rookery. Was she still here with Leörmn?

              ***

              Yann had been feeling many impulses to draw scenes from his dreams and from the story they were creating with Quintin, Fiona, and Truth. It was an urge from inside and last night he had a very intense dream activity, most of which he couldn’t remember, it was more like a big forum with many different personalities all exchanging experiences and exploring new avenues.

              He was also attracted by old stories he was writing when he was a student, the one involving Georges and Salome, it seemed to him they had taken a life of their own now, and they felt very powerful, and most of all, they felt like really having fun.

              One of the drawing that was intriguing him was one that represented a sign of sort, in grayish sparkly clouds. He had given the pic a strange title, Oorlath. Yann had connected the name to an individual and was surprised when Quintin told him about a princess named Oörlaith. He was wondering who she was…

              She still had no face when he thought of her… maybe she was hidden for the moment… and he had the strangest thought that she knew Leonard, the man he’d been drawing with his black hairy dog.

              Haha, he had felt her smile.

              ***

              Chiara was looking for the boy she’d met last time in her dreams. Maybe he could give her some berries again, they were really tasty and fluberrish.

              But she’s been looking for him for so long she wonder if she could find the way again…

              Where she was now felt different. The light? The air? She took a deep breathe and just sat down on the grassy land. She had a quick thought that the land were more rocky than grassy a few seconds ago, but as she was feeling the grass under her hands, she dismissed the thought.

              She was hearing birds singing, it was quite funny the way they were bounding from one sound to the other and she could understand what they were saying, much gossips and a few compliments for a new mother ;)) nothing really important to her. She Jibbled.

              Lying down on the mossy land, she was looking… mossy? wasn’t it grassy? Now it’s mossy… hope that wouldn’t become mothy ;))

              She was looking the clouds, some were grayishly sparkling, she was enjoying it…

              “Are you looking for something” a voice said.

              Chiara quickly sat up and gazed at the fat lady who was standing before her.

              “Hahahaha, you found me at least my dear” laughed the woman.

              “My name is Roselÿn, and you are Chiara, aren’t you?”

              The little girl was gaping at Roselÿn… how could she possibly know her name?

              “I feel I know you :yahoo_thinking:” she said dreamily.

              “You make me feel like when I’m with my uncle Yann, and… there’s something else… oh!?”

              #263

              It’s been a long time since Írtak last paid a visit to his family. But this time would not come now as the twins were just hatching.

              The hatchtone, a humming inaudible sound that would help the little dragon break the hard shell, had been resonating for almost an hour now, and Írtak had to constantly refocus and pay attention to himself not to be distracted by the unheard sound. The tone was quite intense and as they were both hatching at the same time the hatchtones were enhancing each other.

              Írtak could see the shell resonating with the gluid tones. It was shifting shape slightly, and his eyes were also perceiving a bluid glow around it.

              In the hatchtones were the names of the dragons… Írtak was a bit astonished because those names were quite odd, but he was feeling a strange inner giggle of sort coming from some part of himself.

              He was translating the hatchtones as Heckle and Jeckle.

              “Defunitely!”

              The inner laugh of Malvina was still resonating in his ear when the shell began to crack.

              #258
              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                India Louise sat at the end of the extraordinarily long oak dinner table. A tiny figure engrossed in some drawing. The morning sun shone in the window, brightening the otherwise dark room.

                Lord Wrick walked in, not seeming to see India Louise at first. He held a letter in his hand, and some old newspaper clippings. He sat down heavily at the table, opened the letter, and read it. After reading it, he sat staring into space for a long while.

                India Louise looked up from her drawing.

                What is wrong Grandpa? You look sad. She walked over to him and hugged him. See look at this. Look at my drawing of a flower, perhaps that will cheer you up. The painter Bill has been showing me how to use these paint sticks and also how to use my mind to help make the painting have life.

                It is beautiful India Louise.

                What did the letter say Grandpa. Why is it making you so sad?

                It is just an old letter, India Louise.

                Yes it looks very old. Was it bad news?

                Just reminds me of things I wish I had said a long time ago, said her great grandfather, Regret is an awful curse

                The little girl hugged him again. Yes it sounds awful. I think I will draw another flower for you grandpa.

                He smiled. Thank you India Louise. I will be back soon. I will put the letter away now.

                Yes, put it away now. I can’t see any point looking at it if it makes you sad, and then come and see the flower I will draw for you.

                Lord Wrick walked over to the bookshelves and reached up. There was a tin on the top shelf. He opened the tin and got out an old key.

                He walked down the passage way, to the right and then down some stairs leading to the cellar. There was a door, which had not been opened for some time, and he had to use some force to get the key to work in the lock.

                The room was dark, musty, mostly full of what would seem to be junk, which had been thrown there when people did not know what else was to be done with it. There was an old chest of drawers against one wall. He pulled open the top draw, fingering gently some of the items, more old letters, a feather, some pebbles, a diary, some old paintings and photos. He knew each object had a life of it’s own, memories which create worlds. He added the letter and the newspaper article.

                As he left the room, he wondered whether to lock the door again, and decided not to. He had a funny feeling within himself as he made this decision to leave it open, a shift, as though his simple decision had changed things, somehow.

                Silly old fool he thought, laughing at himself. He would go and see the flower that India Louise was drawing for him.

                #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.

                #249
                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  Fiona was feeling a bit weird.

                  She was wondering what was real. Was she real? Wow I am starting to sound like Dory she said and then laughed

                  Oh my goodness and now I am laughing out loud and talking to myself. Jarrod does that and they put him on medication for it.

                  And were her online friends real? I mean what evidence did she have. There were these pebbles of course Yarn said he was sending, but where were they?

                  The other day she had been talking to her friends via the internet, and she found herself telling this ridiculous bird story, which basically boiled down to “I saw a bird and a cracked egg shell”

                  AHAHAHAHAHA

                  Ooops better stop laughing out loud so much. But at the time of seeing the bird it had felt really significant, as though something of importance was being communicated to her.

                  And the online story they had all been writing — well was it all of them, or was it really just her writing it? — whatever, it was getting weirder and weirder and quite rude at times too actually. Or was it??? Was that her imagination again?

                  And lately she kept winking. Good grief, I never wink, what is all that about? What the does a wink mean anyway?

                  Fiona patted her dog George. He was so funny and uncomplicated. All he wanted to do was eat and play and have as much fun as possible… so cool. Actually that is all I want really too, she decided, and felt much better.

                  #246

                  Huÿgens was not much of a cat person.

                  He liked his dogs because they were solid, loyal companions, and he could count on them to take care of his herd of langoats.

                  Langoats were a kind of three-eyed manic woolly and horned creatures, with a big sensing tongue, attracted to every new sound, or scent, or colour, or texture… well almost anything new that came before their eyes (when said eyes were not covered by thick layers of wool that is). And as their memory was short too, all kinds of things were always new to them.

                  That was why the dogs were extremely useful in channeling their movements; not that the langoats would have hurt themselves, because they were very able to provide for themselves, and jump from the top of a cliff without suffering much injuries. But they could very well loose all notion of their physicality and pop in and out of the fabric of time and space.

                  When they came back, because they always did magically come back, even after months of wandering, they would at times be reconfigured into another creature, and that would be pointless applying too much effort in trying to bring them back to their previous form, because it was said, in relation to their stubbornness that once a langoat, always a langoat

                  Huÿgens had already lost some, especially during the shearing season.

                  And he had found himself back once with a cumbersome hippoliphant, and a bouncy shulimeek instead of two langoats.

                  Anyway, langoats wool was a very precious asset, highly sought after, as it could very easily bind with magical spells. Most of the clothes made for royalties were actually made with langoat wool, and it was also said that some enchanters had used langoat wool to make magical tapestries that would shapeshift, and reveal things to their owners.

                  So losing a langoat was not small concern for Huÿgens, and he had to be careful during the shearing season to leave some mops of hair to cover the three eyes of the beasts, so as to curb their insatiable thirst for discoveries.

                  But these days, Huÿgens had been very concerned about his herding dog Fjutch. Fjutch was a fluffy black dog he had found when it was still a puppy. He had trained it to become the head of his pack of dogs, when he had noticed the old rheumatic Thöm was taking the puppy under its wing —because the old faithful dog was knowing that it would depart and would reconfigure into a new form, but would not allow that to happen, not before he could have found a reliable companionship for his beloved master Huÿgens.

                  The healing properties of the langoat milk seemed to had done wonders once again, and Fjutch dis-ease was probably just a false alarm, but it had reminded Huÿgens how much he appreciated his dogs, every one of them, every day he was with them.

                  As for the cats… Illi, that was her name, had decided to come back to the cave, and he was showing her the way to the place where he had found her. He had asked BelleDora to pack a few things for her. He could not give Illi the beverage she was referring to as “coffee”, as that plant was not found in their region, but in compensation, he gave her a gourd of langoat milk, because she seemed like she would probably need some.

                  When he left her near the hole, he had some tears in his eyes when Illi hugged Fjutch very tenderly, as if the dog was reminding her of something dear. Illi after a moment hesitation, where she was like speaking to herself and not knowing what to do, finally hugged Huÿgens too, thanking him for everything he had done.

                  And off she was… free and unfettered as a gripshawk

                  ***

                  When Illi had finished arguing with Illi about having her hug the big man, while this was not manners of her kind, she sighed as she saw that the opening she had first thought was here (yeah, because I fell in there! she said), her senses where telling her that it was now closed…

                  How quaint said Illi for herself.
                  — Well, as a matter of fact, it reminds me of something, said Illi F. There was that delicious gentleman, John Lubbock who said “What we see depends mainly on what we look for” and somehow it seems perfect.
                  — I don’t know any Grubbeck, grumbled Illi, a bit irritated that the hole, which was there before, wouldn’t be here, now she needed it.
                  — Lubbock was such a nice person, said Illi dreamily… Perhaps I could just try to have a peek inside the cave, if you let me.
                  — What?! Do again your wizzy wooey thing and I’ll strangle you! Don’t know how I would do it, but I’ll do it!
                  — Oh, you are so sluggishly gloomy! That was just to help you…
                  — Mmm, sorry for that, I was a bit upset, said Illi. What could you do?
                  — Just focus on the inside, and carry us both inside… But actually you would have to leave your body here, and we’ll probably see other things that do not belong to this place, but heck! that should be fun, Illi F said grinning widely.

                  They were interrupted by some munching sounds and ruffling heavy breath.

                  — What the bejeezus is that?! hissed Illi the cat (who didn’t even know how she knew so funny sounding words as bejeezus)
                  — Can’t you see? That’s obviously a dragon eating some bushes… How strange… replied Illi F airily.
                  — A WHAT? I HATE DRAGONS!
                  — Ahahah, relax, I was just pulling your leg.
                  — That’s not funny.
                  — Well he has funny colours by the way. Pinkish purple I wouldn’t dare to wear in London streets.
                  — That’s REALLY NOT FUNNY!
                  — Why so? You can’t see it anyway…
                  — And what if he sees me? Dragons are vicious creatures.
                  — He’s too busy eating these funny berries, and will probably collapse of exhaustion once he’s full.
                  — A chance! A vegetarian dragon!
                  — OK. Shall we try to find an entrance in the cave with my method, or do we ask the dragon? He looks well-mannered by the way.
                  — Oh, by the eyeballs of the Mighty Shrimp, you tell me…
                  — No, you choose.
                  — No, you.
                  — You…
                  — Ooooh, bugger off…

                  #232

                  A few days after Sam and Becky’s conversation on the phone, they were having a rehearsal.

                  Just at the moment when they felt stuck again, despite Sam’s moves, Al and Tina, a couple of friends came crashing into the small theater room, and were greeted by an icy cold silence. “Icy” is an exaggeration of course, said Tina, “it just meant I had to put a jacket on again today”.

                  Sorry for being late! said Al a bit uneasy.
                  — Oh you and your uneasiness! said Tina. And I’m sure we’re arriving at the perfect time.
                  — Oh, well, I’m not sure of anything today, said Becky. I’m sick of being force-fed coleslaw, and rigging down holes for myself.

                  A silence was on the scene.

                  :fleuron:

                  At the same time, somewhere on the deck of his ship, Bådul was remembered of the landscapes of his land. He had not really appreciated them before, but now, he was finding them dear to him. They were for the most part a mixture of sandy dunes, from which at times peaks of icy rocky mountains would stick out. Lately he had felt like one of these peaks sticking out of the sands. The sands were shifting.

                  :fleuron:

                  Somewhere in Malvina’s cave.

                  Malvina had been polishing the last dry eggs that she had found and that would not hatch. One of them had some interesting perfect round shape, and a very transparent shell, and it gave her an idea.

                  She asked Leörmn to come.

                  :fleuron:

                  Quintin’s bedroom.

                  [1:01] The clock was saying. Quintin had just awoken from a dream about an elderly woman who was showing him some drawings. These were not actually drawings, but in fact, they were called by the lady “glassart”. It was made, she said, of coloured sands, and would be vitrified by some flame. Quintin in that dream had thought the designs rather crude, but had found the idea interesting, and with great potential.

                  :fleuron:

                  Leörmn came almost instantly, appearing in a puff of teal smoke.

                  Oh, I see… he said, reading Malvina’s mind. And I think I have the perfect sands to go with it.

                  :fleuron:

                  — Why hasn’t that pirate, Badass…
                  Badul, corected Al
                  — Whatever, Becky pursued imperturbably, that pirate Baddock used traveling portals to go and look for the eggs? Why the seas? Sounds a bit complicated and with lots of dangers too.
                  — Good question, answered Al. Well, don’t want to answer for everyone, but in my perception…
                  — Oh, get lost with your “in my perception” thing, that’s becoming tiring… sighed Tina
                  — OK. So, for me, they have forgotten much about magic in his land.
                  — Makes sense… added Sam dreamily… In fact, I’m not sure after all that Badul is only after gold. I think he has found some old desert dragon egg in a cave lost in his country and hopes to revive it, with the help of the people who still know about magic.
                  — Which would explain the quest… said Al
                  — Yeah, and he would have hidden that to the rest of the crew, probably… said Tina

                  :fleuron:

                  Leörmn had now finished assembling the magical artifact.

                  — That’s one of our most beautiful magical artifact I’d say, Malvina gleamed
                  — Oh yes it is. And how would you call it?
                  — Let’s see…

                  :fleuron:

                  sabulmantium !

                  Everyone cracked up at the word that Al had just blurted out. They had decided to have some distraction to alleviate the stress on the play, and they had a fun improvisation game, saying stupid things that went through their minds.

                  — Hey! Don’t laugh like that, it’s something very serious actually, said Al tongue-in-cheek. Let me see…
                  — Hahahaha, the others continued
                  — Well, it’s a divination device, or a sort of compass in a way. I see it as a globe made of glass, with coloured sands in it, and when you focus on it, the sands take all sorts of three dimensional shapes, and become alive…
                  — Wow! Tina couldn’t help but say.

                  :fleuron:

                  Leörmn, as Malvina had been telling him (or vice versa), had put the sabulmantium in one of the tunnels, to a place where he knew Arona would find it, and probably put it to good use for her future adventures.

                  #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.

                  #222

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

                  “Hum.”

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

                  “hum” the man said again.

                  “Are you looking for something here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                  The smell of coleslaw was filling the tunnel…

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

                  #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.

                  #189

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                  The eggs seemed so light with that eggstra energy.

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

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

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

                  One last stroke on the shells.

                  One last glance on the emerald green glowing eggs.

                  He shivered with anticipation.

                  He would be back soon for the hatching…

                  #188

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

                  Quintin: Your story was great!

                  Fiona: Thank you :) So was yours.

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

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

                  Fiona: no, wrap it up if you feel.

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

                  Quintin: Ahahaha! Don’t restrict yourself ;)

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

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

                  Fiona: The endearing dragons…

                  Quintin: Yeah…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                  Quintin: yeah, exactly, or with your paintings

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

                  Quintin: Yeah, people can unleash their imagination.

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

                  Fiona: such as? eggsamples?

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

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

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

                  Fiona: Ahahhaha! It is you to the core

                  Quintin: LOL, damn me!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                  Quintin: it was a metaphor :D

                  Fiona: ahahahhahahahahahah

                  Fiona: I know, so was mine :D

                  Quintin: ahahahahah

                  Fiona: I was thinking I feel really accepting of myself

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

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

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

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

                  Fiona: True.

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

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

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

                  Fiona: Ahahahaha yes

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

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

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

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

                  Quintin: Of course, you know :)

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

                  Quintin: Ahahaha, stomping on the poor key-fish

                  Fiona: Nearly…

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

                  Fiona: See you! :)

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