Search Results for 'tent'

October 12 ^th

Lots of movements have been started, movements of expansion, and the joint efforts and ventures took off for new exciting potentials when the migration to the new “expanded sandbox” (as playfully expressed by Quintin) has been completed.
Interestingly, it has been relatively painless and quick in both the find of the perfect “method”, and the perfect “tools”. In noticing how the feelings where acting as a compass that was telling him whether he was in the right direction or not, and in trusting them, Quintin has incorporated that tool without previous knowledge of its potential use. He just knew it was right.
And so it is.

October 16 ^th

My dear friend Elias has expressed some time ago this, which may be interesting for the adventurers to read and see how it applies to them…

“I expressed to you at our last meeting that some focuses continue each other as ‘sequels’ of books. … They are continuations, so to speak. Although they are not accomplished linearly, you may view them as continuing chapters of the same story. In this, they would be considered parallel focuses. You may view within your new game many focuses in which you have held experiences quite different to each other. Then you may also view some focuses that are seemingly related. You are engaged with all of the same characters within a continuation of the same play.” [Elias, #142]

Tomkin had a keen eye, and despite the dazzling light reflected on the calm glittering surface of the sea, he could see a little dark shape detaching itself from the three bigger forms, and that little dark shape was quickly identifiable as a bird.
Apparently the bird was not from these lands, it was black with white strips, or perhaps the contrary, and was flying like a grake drunk of having gorged on overripe Scotch bonnets.
Obviously the bird was exhausted, and crashed on the shore where it was nearly knocked out by the grogonuts which fell with big *thuds* from the grogonut tree on which it had just finished its erratic course.

Seeing the whole scene from the top of the fatly mossy cliff, Tomkin decided his curiosity was a much more pressing matter than taking care of the herd of grakes, so he ran to the little rocky path which led to the beach below.

Apparently the bird was still alive, and more surprising even, that was a talking bird. It could speak strange words.
And even stranger, though Tomkin knew none of these words, he could understand all of what the bird wanted to communicate to him.

What an odd thing, he wondered… The bird was requesting some food apparently.
Tomkin fumbled in his pocket for some bread crumbs, when the gift of the Captain fell on the sand.
Could it be?

Tomkin’s heart was racing. Could it be that there was magic after all in this strange simple gift? The Captain had said it meant all was connected. That could explain why he could understand that foreign bird… And perhaps it worked on other talking creatures and people too…
A whole realm of potentials seemed to open in front of young dreamy Tomkin, who was quickly brought down to more earthly matter when Rudy the myna pricked his hand with its beck for the bread crumbs, projecting to him “Give it to me! Give it to me!”.

September 24 ^th

Quintin remembered a snapshot of the notes that Dory had taken during her first trip to the Madagascan caves, a year ago.

Relevant extracts:

At one moment, I saw some hooded figure in the sideways tunnels… He vanished on the left, couldn’t follow him…
[…] HE KNEW HIS WAY INSIDE !
When he vanished, I had the vision of something, […] like the layout of a labyrinth, of cave tunnels — that are all underground and the many entrances are all over the world… PORTALS
focus opening/doors ; time/space…
The central cavernous part is some kind of key center, where anyone can meet…

This has inspired Quintin to write some notes too.
He has the vision of these portals organized as clusters, like a tree, with branches and leaves… I will send him a more detailed image, but that may take him some time to digest!

September 26 ^th

The latest additions to the story have inspired Quintin. He had some inkling of how “essence” (or what is somewhat referred as “oversoul” ) and all the “focus” of essence (or lifetimes) interplay, and are not as separate as they sometimes seem to be.

Here would be what we will say to him, if he wants to listen:

« Now, terminology can become tricky as, for much time, you have been accustomed to be considering of your experience as the projection of that of an “essence”, somewhat separate from you, the lowly focus.
Of course, you pretend the contrary, and become quite nifty in brandishing sentences like “I am essence, and I create all of my reality”, which you are and do actually, but that you do not always believe and trust.
These terms of “essence” and “focus” were given to you as means for you to better understand the interplay of consciousness. In the beginning of the acquaintance with these new terminologies, you have felt them remotely blurry and unrelated to previous concepts, which was the intention. But now, you once again objectify your understanding in something too rigid at times, and that little story is giving you a hint of what your real power is.
And you begin to really experience it, and really pay attention.

« As was expressed many times, “essence” is no thing. It is an action.
The “essence” is each of you, that very portion of you that you feel when you slide your attention into the comment box.
In that, your purpose, you see, is only to experience, nothing more, nothing less.
And then time, as you know it, becomes irrelevant, you see. Your natural time is expressed through you and your explorations.
Notice how playfully, as essence (essence playing focus or focus playing essence), you let your natural time unfold, and at times find some strange weather pattern in your awareness that needs clarification. As essence, you playfully find the most perfect habits [shapes and clothings] to wrap around you, and continue your story.
Just as your dreams at night overlap and blend into each other.
Just as Rafaela created new focuses [Sam and Becky] to continue to play and make the story expand for all of the other focuses, Dory included.

« That “I” of you is ever present, and is reflected perfectly in others’ perceptions, as you are drawing them to you purposefully. Do not brush aside their adjuncts, for they are also you, having moved your pawns forward, so to speak, through their moves.

« Thus understand that the story is a continuous stream reflecting the essence that is you, and your travel through the various guises you borrow.
In that manner, it does not matter how much sense it makes in linear terms. Because, in a way, it can’t make sense in these linear terms.

« Let us explain this in other terms.
When you found difficulties in understanding the “scheme” so to speak, the figure that is drawn by the participants, it is because you apply the linear understanding of what such a scheme should be.
In that, you only perceive the “plot” as a succession of dots without a continuity, whereas the continuity is to be found in the other stories interwoven.
You are accustomed to stories where a single individual is enacting throughout the play, in a linear continuous fashion. The individual goes through many different actions, but is always the same in your perception.
Here, the tricky thing is to notice the continuity throughout the various habits [clothings] taken by the essence(s). It matters not that the essence takes that guise of say, a pirate sailing on high seas, just after having been an old crafty Lord in his windy castle. The underlying aspects of his exploration has been continuous and coherent: in this case, exploring and making sense of one’s exploration. It is just that a certain appearance has been perhaps more fitting to express certain aspects or qualities of essence, but the exploration has been one, throughout the entirety of the experience.

« We will let you ponder this, and we will continue our own story, writing about you… »

September 28 ^th

This sand symbol that Quintin has brought up seemed to have come from many directions at once. Each character has connected it, in various ways.
Armelle (Arona) to her magic, Rafaela (Becky) to her collecting customs, etc. etc.

Let us say that this symbol is not as innocent as it may seem. There are lots of associations with sand.
It is solid, yet fluid. In association with water, it can be used to build, and also to erode. It can shift into many forms, one of which is your glass, and your electronic components.
And most of all, it is, after your very oxygen, the most abundant constituent of your reality.
It is almost limitless in your understanding.
As is your magic.

This magical device we made Quintin see in a visualization is an analogy of your very action of creation as essences.
The sand which molds itself to make forms and shapes in three dimensions is in fact likened to your consciousness. Each grain of sand represents your links of consciousness that bind together to do your command.
The shapes are moved by your essences, in which you may see that the essence is no thing at all, but is a continuous stream of action, not separate from others’.

As Quintin said to Fiona, some individuals do differently when they create and shape their sands.
In analogy with the coloured sands, some people like Quintin enjoy using other people’s colours in shaping his own characters, while some others prefer to keep their own colours, to create a more definite sense of individuality. But they integrate the others’ movements and shapes nonetheless, regardless of how much they perceive it to be coming from them.

With that said, let us see how much more will appear from that sandbox…

September 30 ^th

The Wrick family tree as it is now (or “will be” drawn around the time of the twins in 2057).

The Secret Life of Margaret Wrick , a newspaper cut from 2033.

October 7 ^th

The dragon Naasir’s dream
A panorama illustrating the portals between the worlds created by each of the participants… But who is dreaming, really?

And an illustration of Chiara’s encounter with the glutton “dreggun” Buckberry…

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

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

It had named itself Naasir.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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…

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.

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.

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.

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…

— 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?

— 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.

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.

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…

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

— 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…

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…

— 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.

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.

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.

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…

_

• an artificial intelligence device that tries to have a decent conversation with Quintin, but finds it difficult as Quintin’s answers are more like owl-speech to him.

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 creatures^² 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

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.