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  • #310
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Allow me to explain, George said kindly. But first, come with me. We’ll have our chat somewhere bright and sunny, we’ve spent long enough in this dark cave. Waiting for who knows what, he added with a wink. If you hold my hand and allow me to guide you, we’ll have a picnic on the banks of the Little Brook.

      Dory hesitated. After all, it was George who had given her that drugged coleslaw. The thought of the Little brook and the sunshine was appealing though, and Dory decided to take her chances and go with George.

      She held his hand and closed her eyes, and sank herself back to the back of her mind and relaxed. She felt her body buzz a bit and a ‘falling into a vortex’ kind of feeling, not at all unpleasant, and in no time at all felt the sun warm on the top of her head and the bright sunlight lighting up the back of her eyelids. When she opned her eyes she was surrounded by ferny bracken and dappled silver birch trees and sheep nibbling the close cropped carpet of grass.

      #224

      Grandad! Grandad!, called India Louise to Lord Wrick, running in the old manor, her footstep making creaking and loud noises down the windy staircase.

      Hilarion Wrick was seated in his favourite armchair, dozing after the hefty meal prepared by Nanny Gibbon, the cat Manfred on his lap.

      Raising an eyelid, his cheerful wrinkled face smiled at the little girl.

      — And how can I be of assistance, dear little one?

      — Grandad, this book is full of wonders, but at times it’s like some characters have their own life, and I don’t always understand what they do… In fact, she added thoughtfully, I don’t understand them most of the time…
      — Hahaha, laughed the old Lord, but they have certainly their own lives, as they are living in your imagination. What can I explain to you?
      — Well, let me think.

      India Louise took a moment, and asked again

      — For instance, this woman who just run in the cave, she seems to meet many people here, but I am confused. Is she dreaming, or are they real?
      — Well, as a matter of fact, let me express to you that they are all real, even if you think that she dreams them. However, I am understanding of what you are saying, and I shall acknowledge your perspicacity. These characters are not all from the same areas of consciousness.

      Here, we will explain for the reader that these books were not unknown to Lord Wrick who had spent lots of time during his youth playing with them. How they were lost and found again is the subject of another story, and we will not divert the reader’s patient attention for much longer on this issue.

      — Areas of consciousness?

      — Yes, you see, let me explain. That individual that you call Dory, she is in a physical world. But she is aware, to an extent, of other realities that overlap her own reality. Just as her story overlaps your own reality my dear one.

      — And Illi? Who is she?
      — This one is also Dory, but another personality of her, in another time. She has just passed away, quite recently. She is beginning to slowly become aware of that, and she connects with other of her personalities, and at times blends with them, like the other Illi, the cat-like creature, who is still in the physical reality of Malvina’s world.
      — Mmmm, this is quite intricate…
      — Hahahaha, yes, it seems so, but it will not be so puzzling when you don’t try to attach your current limited perception to this story. This story is you my dear. You are the story.
      — Well, and Sanso, and Georges then, are they dead or what? How come Dory can see them?
      — These ones are special, they have mastered the crossing of the Worlds, and can move through them. They move differently though. Sanso comes from a lineage of an ancient tribe of Zion, and had learn from them how to activate some portals, but only through the physical world of Dory, in their own time. He is not yet aware that he can also move through time as well, or even through other Worlds —worlds that he has no conception of yet.

      Georges is more consummate in that art. Their meeting is not coincidental. You will see that.

      — Thank you Grandad, it’s becoming a bit less confusing.
      — Just flow with the story my little one, don’t hold on too much, or you will find it too difficult, and you will stop to find fun in it.

      #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…

        #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.

        #173

        Lots of things were moving around, Quintin felt. It was nothing he could have explained in words of the physical world, but he was aware of some deep movement, something like a new beginning.

        Lots of others had been moving too, in their own ways, sometimes not quite comfortably, but it was calmer now, like after a tempest, clear limpid sky, and splinters of wooden ships floating gently on the oily surface of the sea.

        Dory had been very sick in Madagascar she’d told him, perhaps after having eaten some food, she could not have told why. But now was better… It had seemed a good night of sleep was good enough a medicine for her.

        He had dreamed of Fiona too, some shared past lives in the 1860s in a small town in the US, it had been very vivid, and he had felt a great lovingness between them… Somehow they could find each other again, anytime, he knew that.

        As for Yann, after that week-end they had spent together, all was clear too between them, they could create the fun they wanted without needing to make it difficult for them, it was only a matter of being accepting of their own choices and impulses, which was at times easier said than done.

        It had been an interesting exchange between them all, and it was still continuing. Perhaps it was a gift from Malika, her gentle presence, which was very much like Malvina’s in her cave…

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