📚 › Malvina’s Song

So the Story goes...

Viewing 25 replies - 26 through 50 (of 81 total)
  • Author
    Replies
  • in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #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.

      in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #280

      When Rudy the myna had come back crashing on the boat, it all became suddenly a huge uncontrollable chaos.
      The hovering menacing clouds that were looming in front of them were coming closer at a dreadful speed, and even more concerning were the rocks that were appearing everywhere now, that they had more and more trouble to avoid in betwixt the turmoils and eddies.

      So they had finally come to the Great Rift, Bådul was thinking. The back of the legendary water dragon that noone was known to have crossed.

      But Bådul knew better.
      He howled orders to get everybody ready at their posts, and felt reassured when he saw that Austor was maneuvering with dexterity and confidence through the rift.
      He ignored the crazy laugh of Razkÿ, the madman who was now shouting with a manic laughter “We all gonna diiie! AHAHAHAH! DIE! DIE!” Then winking at Bådul and laughing again.

      :fleuron: :fleuron:

      A few months earlier, Northern Åsgurdy

      A huge cloaked figure was riding in the middle of the deserts. The saurhse, a bit small for its rider, was getting tired, but the man wanted to move before the night came. Åsgurdy had a climate which made travels uneasy on land, and only on these bipedal saurians they named saurhses, could Åsgurdians easily travel on the burning hot sands by day. Then, they could gain the high plateaus of rock and ice, where the temperature was kept cold by the high chilly winds. But at night, the deserts would be chilly too, and the cold-blooded creature he was mounting would require a shelter.

      He knew that such a shelter wouldn’t be far away now.
      That region was mostly uncharted as it was fairly remote from all known cities, but that strange man he had met had said he was a traveler who knew were he could find something priceless.
      At that time, Badul had felt he had nothing to lose, and said to himself “when in doubt, go for the experience”.
      He had felt he could trust that man known to him only by a strange name, something like Gheorg.
      There had been nothing boastful about him, and he had been kind to him. He had been the only person in the World he had known to have given him back his dignity as a human being, and even more, to have given him a reason to live.
      He owed him a lot, and perhaps even more as he was now drawing closer to the cave… that same cave which was a mere cross on the torn map he had been drawing hastily before vanishing almost preternaturally, living him a bit of money and that map…

      ~~~

      Roselÿn had felt the urge to move somewhere else. This land didn’t resonate with her energy, and that of Rëgkvist, and of the few eggs the dragon had managed to lay, none had actually been able to hatch.
      It had affected her so much that she had even retreated from her sisters’ usual talks through the glubolíns.
      She needed to move on.

      ~~~

      When he entered the cave, Badul was disappointed. He could feel there had been someone living here quite recently, but it was like the cave was now abandoned. He hoped he could have found more answers, but now it was again like burning sand slipping through his fingers.

      In a fit of rage, he took a boulder as big as him and threw it across the cave with a roar.
      Something was brought down by his huge force further down into the cave and he heard it quite distinctly.

      He tied up the saurhse at the entrance of the cave, and entered it with determination, ducking through the tunnel too narrow for his big baby-faced frame. Then he found something glowing. At first, he thought it was some gold, but what kind of fool had been living here before and had been in such a haste to move as to forget gold?

      It was not gold. It was something like a broken shell. The broken bits were like a jigsaw puzzle and he wished he could make it one, as he was attracted by the strange radiance of the thing.

      :fleuron: :fleuron:

      Austor did not believe his eyes…
      They had crossed the Rift, all three of the ships.
      And it was nothing like the dark void they had nearly expected behind.

      It was an open sea, glistening in the sun, and all hope had come back through them all.

      in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #285

      Chiara got quite a fright and spun round quickly. She stood gazing at the funny cat creature who had shouted BOUH at her, momentarily uncertain as to whether to burst into laughter or tears.

      Illi watched Chiara’s trembling lip with some concern, especially when she saw the very large creature who was with her. Illi felt it may be prudent to make a hasty retreat, however, before she could make her getaway, a rather loud voice shouted out from behind a gigantic pebble:

      I WISH YOU WOULD ALL GO AWAY

      And a tiny figure emerged. A very small and rather rumpled looking pink fairy, with a grumpy expression on her pretty face.

      I SAID I WISH YOU WOULD ALL GO AWAY, she shouted again, this time stamping her foot angrily and glaring at the assembled trio.

      Is that really what you want dear? Asked Roselyn. Because we can go away if you like.

      At which the little little pink fairy burst into loud sobbing noises and threw herself on the ground.

      Oh dear, said Roselyn whatever is the matter?

      in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #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.

      in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #300

      Malvina tried to concentrate on the opalescent glubolín, to locate her Sisters.

      But that was perhaps too early, because she could feel them close enough, but not focused yet.
      Instead of communicating directly with their focused attention, she was getting images in the glubolín, that seemed related to them, but not necessarily directly. Something like an overlapping of different aspects.

      Oörlaith was very close, and she could make out her surrounding. Malvina could briefly see her discussing with a man and a black dog. She had known that man… But then the image dissipated…

      A sparkling shore, a black and white bird and pirates talking with a boy… the little boy had a buntifluën in his possession; how strange, Malvina thought, how could he?
      Then the shore changed, she could see herself in a unfamiliar environment of sands, she was wearing a blue shawl and teaching a young impetuous woman, on how to change her features as easily as molding a sand castle. The young woman had just grown cat whiskers for a split second, and was giggling at her first success. How strange again thought Malvina, this simple act had sounded like a feat of importance in that bizarre environment, while it is rather easy to accomplish…
      Images flying again, she tried to concentrate on Roselÿn.

      But Roselÿn was perplexing. Malvina did not manage to connect directly to her environment, but could catch glimpses of a flying plump woman in a black and white attire, and she knew at once it was Roselÿn — though not the Roselÿn she knew. Roselÿn the Sorceress was a tall elegant dark-haired woman, but both women emanated the same joyful and loving energy. Flying Plump Roselÿn was with a little giggling girl, and giggling girl was adventurous… How interesting…

      Something drew her out of her rêverie. Guests had arrived it seemed, she could hear Leörmn calling for her. She was excited at the perspective of visitors, especially at the perspective of meeting the young one who had found the sabulmantium, as she was feeling that her presence now was purposeful for them all.

      in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #302
      F LoveF Love
      Participant

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

        in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #304

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

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

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

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

        — You have strange games with your dragons.
        — …

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

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

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

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

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

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

        :yahoo_alien:

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

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

        — Where’s the funny man? he said.

        in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #307

        Chiara got quite a fright and spun round quickly. She stood gazing at the funny creature, a woman who had a sort of cattish feel, who had shouted BOUH at her, momentarily uncertain as to whether to burst into laughter or tears.

        Illi watched Chiara’s trembling lip with some concern, especially when she saw the very large woman who was with her. Illi felt it may be prudent to make a hasty retreat, however, before she could make her getaway, a tiny figure emerged from behind a rather large pebble.

        Hello, said a little pink fairy. I am the Fairy Princess of the Land of the Long White Cloud. Did you fly here? Look I can do magic and she waved her magic wand, said abracadabra and produced some small white feathery fairy wings for the delighted Chiara.

        Frowdup she called excitedly. A round green blobby creature who blended seamlessly into the environment like some sort of exotic plant hopped over.

        Yes Dear Fairy Princess?

        Please could you play the music for us?

        Oh delighted to oblige answered Frowdup, producing a flute like instrument.

        At first the sweet notes of the instrument floated tentatively on the warm air. They rang like pure crystal, cool and pure, then slowly gained in confidence and multiplied, as though possessed of supernatural powers. It seemed the simple melody Frowdup played was accompanied by a whole orchestra of instruments.

        The little fairy laughed in delight and grabbed the giggling Chiara. They began to dance instinctively with the energy of the earth, swaying at first like a tree in the wind, then whirling like the wind itself, soaring high into the air, imitating the flight of a parrot, then swooping joyfully back to the ground. They were connected to the magic of the music.

        ***

        Whanga, one of the 13 Witches of Loathing was feeling rather bad tempered as she gazed into her glass ball. hmmmm bugger, she said crossly that little Fairy Princess from the Land of Long White Cloud is having way too much fun. She seems impervious nowadays to my magic spells of loathing

        Whanga had to confess to being a little puzzled. For a while she felt she nearly had the Fairy Princess in her clutches, but one day something seemed to have changed, and the Fairy Princess did not seem to be so affected by her whispered spells any longer. What sort of magic had she found to protect herself Whanga wondered. .

        ***

        It had begun to rain gently whilst Finn was in the enchanted fairy ring. She didn’t mind, she loved the rain and the trees protected her from the getting too wet. It felt cosy and magical. She had such a strong sense of the presence of her younger self. The younger Finn was three years old. Finn remembered the day,it was etched in her memory as a turning point, and yet it was also as though she were there again. She talked with her younger self, wanting so much to give the younger Finn a gift to help her make a different choice that day. Finn knew she had to trust with her heart, not reason it with her head, because there were just too many questions she could not make sense of, and magic did not seem to be so much about sense anyway. Anyway,whatever, if nothing else she felt lighter within herself .

        in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #347

        She was focusing different aspects of herself differently and slowing down her vibrationnal quality in order to acquire that timely touch necessary to interact as she wanted in this particular dimension.

        She was focusing on this… cave and adding her own energy to the movement of this seasonable exploration.

        She could feel Malvina and a young female… Arona, yes as translation of her tone, speaking together.

        She was feeling Buckberry was also attracted to the cave of his father.

        She smiled… her dearest Georges was here too now.

        Salome was fully focused now in one of the bluish glowing tunnels… she rippled a loving energy to the glukenitche who turned yellow of pleasure for a few seconds, and she walked through the rocky mount in the direction of the roockery.

        in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #361
        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          Chiara and Roselyn were back, back to wherever it was they started from, before they started their little adventure to the island.

          (Where was it again? and was it a dream or did it really happen?) :yahoo_idk:

          Anyway, notwithstandingly, it was an interesting diversion and both were enriched by their experience.:yahoo_rose: :yahoo_rose:

          in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #369

          These guests have been once again distracted on their way to the party… Malvina was thinking, munching some raisins for her stomach was growling now.
          Perhaps they were gathering more guests along the way, the cave was so full of surprises.

          Oh yes they are, said Leörmn, they have now a little Ugling boy in their care… It’s like this young woman has truly a golden heart…
          Aaaand, added Leörmn with a mischievous smile, I guess this unlikely couple with a baby will probably have some surprises in spare for us,… notwithstanding the fact that the cave’s tunnels are already steamy anyway.

          Malvina caught off guard, almost rolled on the floor laughing at the unexpected probability that had surfaced in her mind, and blurted out a swear word “Boston!”

          in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #422

          — The Murtuane seems different than the last time I came, said Salome.
          — Yes it is. People are changing it. It is becoming like a planet, spherical in a way. Badul is currently exploring its roundness.
          — Hahaha, Badul, yes.

          Salome smiled wryly.

          — And there are these 2 other potentials, emerging too. The Duane I think is physically inserted already, on the opposite side of the sun… wasn’t it called Alienor last time we came here?
          — Hehehe, you’re right… and there is that third planet, the Phrëal… a bit less physically focused. It’s trajectory is quite different from the 2 others. And in a few days it will merge with the Murtuane. That’s the reason of our presence here I think.

          Salome looked at Georges, amused. Malvina’s energy was calling them. Tea time.

          :tile:

          in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #439

          Leörmn the dragon had been retreating silently what felt like a long time ago. For most of the dragons, as they grew in age, needed to occupy more and more of their time in dreaming.
          But dreaming was not an idle occupation as human sometimes were prone to think. He was phenomenally active in the Unseen when he dreamt, and most of the times, he didn’t even have a dream corporeal existence such was the intensity of the activity, that he projected in many many many different ways at the same time.

          At times, he slowly woke up, barely aware of all of what he had done. In one fragment, some other focuses of his friends were in an odd classroom, and were asked whether they had read some transcripts of a trance conversation with a dragon. At the beginning the pupils had felt reluctant to answer, but some bold hands had been raised, and he knew these people, they were closely related to him. The teacher had been telling them how different the energy was, and how intense, for it was not the same kind of consciousness… Of course, Leörmn knew all of that, but it was one of the many things that had occurred during his sleep. Because all of that was a reality, occurring in other frameworks, other dimensions, other scenes, but all of them were happening.
          And in another one, there was this young man who had just changed his name, looking through a sort of big flat glubolin at some parchment map that one of his friend had put in front of his eyes, and the young man was amazed at how close it looked like the map he had seen in his own dream, with rivers outlined…

          Leörmn felt immensely grateful for all of these personality essences exchanging with him, and enhancing and widening his own exploration, and he felt like he wanted to modify once again the cave. He would create some guest rooms into the cave for them, if they wanted to use them. They would be furnished as they wanted to, and reflecting what was their comfort, and dear to them…
          At Malvina’s request, he had already created one abode for Irtak, but now, he would also create one for the finckely Arona, the wandering Sanso, who in turn could invite some of their own guests.

          And so once again, the cave was transmugrified…

          in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #449

          All that farting had been quite exhausting, but the mummy felt that she was reincorporating vigor more quickly now, as the old fartesque energy was giving way.
          This was a quicker process than birthing, but also more disturbing.

          She slowly started to unwrap her bandages.
          She smiled as she saw her peach smooth skin on her hands.

          :fleuron:

          Malvina had clapped her hands and made the food and drinks and decorations disappear in the reception hall of the cave, feeling the time was not to big parties right now. The guest had moved again, and she had not been in the mood for party either.
          She had not yet managed to reestablish contact with her sisters and that was a more pressing matter.

          Leörmn had been retreating into his seasonal slumber, and would not be of great help at the moment, so she knew it was also time for her to get back to simple things and not worry about what was not yet here. Probabilities had simply moved, they would come back.

          The silgreen tree had bloomed, and she wanted to brew some potions with its flowers. She would then go with Irtak to the village sell some vials of potion, and perhaps they would take the opportunity to see Huÿgens too, as he sometimes needed such potions for his langoats.

          :fleuron:

          For Illi the cat, that cave filled with slimey scaly beasts was now out of her way.
          Good riddance.

          This dead Illi experience had been so intense she had almost believed there indeed was a pink indigo dragon right were she was at the entrance of the cave. But the impression had vanished all of a sudden, and she had found herself with her mind again her own only, without the echoing thoughts of that deranged other.
          She had found a tree nearby, and comfortably seated on some high branches had been mediating with the help of trance inducing betel catkins that she carried with her as she traveled.

          She had seen some weird stuff, like farting bandage wrapped people putting cobblestones to make a way to the sky, but that was enjoyable. As nothing really could make sense that night, she decided to go to sleep on her tree.

          In the morning, a snorting sound made her raise her pointy ears. Just below her tree, a man was eating and singing, looking at some map, obviously planning some interesting adventure…

          :fleuron:

          In the cave, where Vincentius was left with the Ugling boy and Mandrake, the latter finally decided to break the ice.

          — How pitiful we left that sabulmantium to the snorting man… Mandrake said, we could have had a peek into Arona’s adventure… Not that I am concerned, she is so brave, but you know, she’ll always be my little… What am I saying? mumbled Mandrake temporarily confused.
          — Oh, you mean, Arona had a sabulmantium?
          — Mmm, well, of course… We projected hairy cows and stuff… (I’m really saying the stupidest things today, might be that herbal tea, shivered Mandrake, licking his paw and combing with it the unkempt hair on his head)
          — Interesting… But you know if you want to have a look, we can do otherwise. Let me see…
          — (trying to make yourself important, huh) thought Mandrake

          Vincentius took a little blue bag tied to his belt, and threw a pinch of a smelly mossy powder on the smoldering embers.
          A thick greenish smoke started to rise making Mandrake retreat carefully (or tactfully he would say) in his favourite place behind the pile of logs to look at the discomfiture of poor Vincentius without having to overwhelm him too much with his own superior sharp intuitive senses.
          But to Mandrake’s surprise, the smoke steadied like a moving wall, and images started to foarm.

          — Hey, this is my little girl, Arona! Mandrake couldn’t help but say.
          A-lo-na, the slow voice of Yikes/Zacquer said.

          in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #459

          Frankly, Malvina seems a bit down, Tina said to Al after having read the play’s entry.
          Oh, well, I suppose she has too her bad hair days… sighed Al who had shaved his hair in a mohawk this morning. He was thinking of trying some new beliefs adjustments so that he would be able to regulate more precisely the flow of his hairs…
          In fact, he knew it was just as easy as knowing that the hair do not grow, just like trees do not grow.
          A bit like the mummy in that old book from Anne Rice who could just absorb the rays of the sun to regenerate his body…

          :fleuron:

          Malika was painting her toenails. Bright fuchsia.
          She would spend Thanksgiving with her family, and felt some lightness would be very needed in that environment.
          She had decided on a white outfit, with light blue and white coach purse and little heeled shoes.
          A little quartz pendant to complete the ensemble would be perfect.

          :fleuron:

          Malvina had finished preparing the vials of silgreen bloom’s potion. There were thirty three of them, all lined up, and now she could go for her walk to the village.
          Strangely, she became aware of an energy; in fact two energies. They were diffuse in the background before, but now, they were popping to the forefront, and very intensely.
          Visitors?

          That was unexpected…

          :fleuron:

          Salome had thought of a gift for Malvina. She had shown it mentally to Georges, and he had smiled in her mind warmly.
          And as they walked into the tunnels, they started to gather particles of matter of that dimension around their focus of attention, and slowly started to become translucent bodies, and then fully focused.

          The gift was following them.

          in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #463

          — A marmoset then… Georges said Salome grinning widely.
          — Yes. Did you get a name for him?
          Leo.
          — That’s cute… With his little white mane around his face, Malvina will love him.

          Leo had jumped on Salome’s shoulder, as it was a bit exhausting for the little creature to follow them.

          — You know they are disappearing on this island of Tikfijikoo where I was just before. I think they found the invasion of their habitat by humans no longer funny. Lots of them have already popped into another reality for their kind… It takes some adjustment to refocus and reconfigure the energy, but it seems to go smoothly, as Leo being here is proof.
          — Yes, as lots of old species on Earth ware doing. The relocation process is a bit energetically crowded, in a manner of speaking…
          Georges was finding usage of words in that dimension a bit uneasy. That ware was such an example of how language needed rearrangement when they talked about simultaneous events in both past and present. At least, he knew Salome was understanding beyond the words.

          Salome smiled and envisioned Georges and herself bathed into a field of fluid mulberry jelly colour, and around them some of the particles floating haphazardly around started to gather orbiting in rippling circles around them.
          Salome was remembering an undulating shape too that she could use as a tuning fork, and she added it inside the central circle.

          — Oh, you’re right…

          « the translation device ! » they both said simultaneously, bursting into laughter.

          — I always tend to forget about that funny toy Malvina once explained to me. And you know how much I love to play with it… when I remember it, of course…

          Malvina had told Georges that the particles which were in his field were assisting him in translation, and had a grounding and focusing effect.

          Leo started to applaud frantically at the new light quality of the energy.

          in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #464

          His senses were now hightened and he could feel the multi-layered energy patterns of the cave created by Leörmn. He could feel the connections with Leörmn and that they were part of him as he was part of them too. His foffing aspect just rippled inside the cave and for a few seconds added a green hue in the energy of the cave, rendering it smoother and a green flourishing moss began appearing in some hidden places.

          — There is different probable paths for us to follow. Different qualities and different probabilities to emerge :)

          She smiled, looking at him observing her energy. Their energy fields were merged as often when they were together. Their colors were blending, adding new qualities to their expressed focuses in this dimension.

          — We are following all of them, beloved, she said grinning. I don’t want to actualize in this particular focus the quickest though I want to lof a little before.

          He was seeing Salome’s energy intertwined and blended with all the energy of this dimension. Some more present, some lighter and not so focused in this particular area… she was observing him observing the blueprints also, they were fascinating… a bit different from what he was remembering from his last visit. They had changed them… well he also had changed them. It was a new exploration. From this particular interest in the new qualities added he felt he was creating new focuses to explore these and also new essences decided to fragment and explore differently, again changing the vibrational tone of the dimension… it was a continuous and wondrous process.

          The marmoset was shining blue, still full of Salome’s energy. Leo’s energy pattern seemed quite new to this dimension.

          — You are the one who introduced them in this dimension, he smiggled cunningly, I feel others are coming now. They find it quite fun and welcoming here.

          They both laughed and She grinned slyly.

          — Well I’m a Path Opener, you know..

          Leo jumped on her right shoulder and wrapped his tail around her neck possessively. He did that little squick she was so fond of.

          Sam has been following us also. She said. I feel she’s already with Malvina and jumping all around the place. Time to go before she messes the cave around :))

          — Well this way then my precious :>

          She saw him shift his attention sideway a little and his energy hue changed, becoming a bit more mustard, the tunnels around them were becoming translucent and he walked through the rocky mount in the direction of the sky blue energy of their beloved friend Malvina.

          in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #466

          Malvina felt a surge of energy, another one was arriving… not from essence though and… oh! directly here.
          It took a moment to the energy to clearly focus itself in the room where she was with the vials. It was similar to some of their wolves… but it wasn’t.
          She knew that energy. It had changed since last time. And now she knew also who was coming.

          She smiggled and decided to prepare a surprise for her surprising guests. She mentally called Leörnm and asked him to reshape the bal room… she wanted moss, and watery falls, some up some down, some bright blue cristals also on the ceiling. Mmmm, Irtak was in the hatching place, busy with the new eggs… it seemed there were many more eggs since a few weeks now… maybe the dragons would soon fly the skies of Alienor again…

          What!!! no dragon icon she thought slyly ;))

          Well she’ll do without.

          Irtak will be glad to meet himself. She wondered if he would recognize the connection.

          in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #469

          Leörmn was feeling a bit weird to be so intimately explored by this Georges. He was seeing him, actually another aspect of himself with his simultaneous eye in that other time. He was wondering why Malvina was also choosing to perceive time as the other human beings. Leörmn, and other dragons had a very different way of exploring and being in time and space. They were their focus and it was simultaneous… it was also ever changing and that’s why the narrator is having lots of difficulties to translate that… but if you connect with your inner senses I’m sure you’ll get it right :D

          Well the dragon was seeing simultaneously the Georges in this particular intersection of their aspects in this now that was also connected with so many nows. He could easily follow the particular movement of this Georges and was seeing also the many paths and probabilities he was following at the same time. Leörmn had that particular multi-dimensional focus with which he could easily communicate with his human friends. He wasn’t mentioning all that they were doing in the many intersections of his self for it was unnecessary, but he was aware they weren’t fully aware… or rather that their awareness was directed differently.

          This Georges, and this Salome were similar to Malvina. He was fully aware of the vastness of her being and of her deep understanding of his own vastness. They were connected and intersected in numerous ways. This creature of theirs was here too. She was with Malvina. In other intersections she was manifesting a different shape, this one was interesting also. Her energy was subtly different also, there were different energies that were intersecting with other aspects of these Georges and Salome.

          The room was reshaped in himself, so it was reshaped in what the humans would call the outside… but it was inside, there was no such thing as outside.

          For a few days, this particular intersection of himself was changing also because Malvina was altering this aspect of herself she was calling her thought process. She was disassociating many layers of energies, of patterns and rearranging them. It was a fun reorganization for him also… in a manner of speaking it had already happened, but it was a new exploration and it was radiating in many probabilities. He added a smell of roses in the cave, an impulse. The shades of pink he added in the crystals was not a random choice either :yahoo_rose:

          He realized now what was the new energy he’d been feeling, he added some qualities and aspects to this exploration and included a fleck of himself in the Leo. What a funny creature. His aspects intersecting with it were all full of joy and fun. It was a good choice, he thought as a translation of his excitement in this new exploration. He was enjoying tremendously this present of this Salome.

          He shape-shifted a little to reorganize his scales on his shoulders so the Leo could easily rest there, and projected himself to Malvina.

          :www:

          in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #471
          EricEric
          Keymaster

            Oörlaith was picking star-thistles buds that were growing on the ruins in the Marshes. She had always felt attracted by the putrid Marshes, for many reasons.
            There was something in her own demeanour that made creatures and people comfortable around her, and she had always felt in herself that natural balancing and accepting qualities that makes a good Healer.
            But it was a complex matter, and her choices of explorations had always stirred much incomprehension in the various people she had met over her life. And she had met lots.

            Of course, the first ones where her own parents. They were opulent burgomasters of one of the major towns of Cromash Tur, and from the date of her birth, Oörlaith was destined to marry one of the Warlords of these regions. Something that was sound and portent of good fortune, as her parents kept saying. Warlords were always in need of fundings for their expeditions, and in exchange would be providing a modicum of security for the commerce and other activities. It was thus all good for everybody. Good exchange of practices.

            But very early in life she had known her path was not that one.
            Nothing as plain and simple… and boring! one must admit. Her parents would have not, though.

            As far as she remembered, she first had a living proof of her potentials when she healed a small bird back to life. A miracle, for the poor thing had been maimed by an rabid chipmog pillaging birds nests for eggs, and throwing the little hatched bird off the branches. Chipmogs were no more evil than the bird she knew that, and their show-offy nature was even a blessing in disguise, as she had been quickly alerted of the incident.
            She was four year-old.

            Only later did she became aware of how she could best learn to develop her magical potentials. Her parents wouldn’t have let her know about such things as how to become a Grand Sorceress, for they did not really know much about it, and also for it was considered unfitting to her rank. “Simpletons”, she couldn’t help but think.
            But the day she became aware of the legendary Island of Mörk, she instantly set her goal to be counted among the best of their Learned Ones, whatever the price for her.

            And notwithstanding her relatively young age, she got by her own to the Island, and was trained there too… But then again, it was not as easy, as she rebelled against some of the Laws of Magic passed down by the Teachers, Laws that were thick and dry as a century old grimorium full of abstruse formulæ.
            Hopefully, she ended up with misfits as much she was, her dear sisters Roselÿn and Malvina.

            When it was time for them to part on their own adventures, she again surprised many (but not her dear sisters) by stating that she would settle near the Marshes. The legends surrounding this place, as well as the huge potential for practicing healing in one of the most difficult environments were immense incentives for her.
            The Teachers had warned her of the immense energy that filtered in these lands, as it was a coordinate point where things had already gone awry in the past. She had almost laughed at them. Of course she was aware, that was all about that. Definitely not for the faint of hearts.

            Her companion Andarión, who was in his/her preferred shape a majestic water dragon, as wise as it was a crackpot at times, had been aware of her intentions as soon as they had first met. They had chosen each other quite purposefully, though she was not entirely aware of her role in these discoveries. But undoubtedly he was an asset.

            And as she was picking her mauve star-thistles, humming like a raving madwoman, her sharp eye was on the look for the legendary golden one which would mean the dawn of a new Era…

            in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #484

            A swirling motion emerged from nothing in the hatching room. Irtak was feeling a bit dizzy and his link with Heckle and Jeckle flinched a bit. He was in constant communication with them since their hatching and he had felt his thought process merge with theirs… He’d been feeling weird for some time and had seen images of things that had already happen (normal), or things that had not yet happen (a bit weirdo), and things that could have happen or had happened in another timeline, and things that may appear in this timeline or that were related to another… he had had difficulties juggling with that and if he had been alone he thought he would have kill himself or just loose every bit of control he had thought he had… WTM

            He was learning quickly what Malvina already knew and what had been her own path so to speak when she had bonded with Leörmn. Another weird thing is that since his own bonding with the twins, he was feeling their “father” more and was understanding him better. He was connected to him strongly through them. He was then aware of the arrival of “strangers” and was aware also that the man was connected to him. He could not feel the link yet or understand it. He felt different but so similar to himself. And in a way Irtak was associating this dizziness to the man. What was his name again? The Georges?

            The woman he could see through the twins awareness of their father’s awareness was awesome, he felt strongly attracted to her. He couldn’t understand, but was sure they also were connected. His heart was beating faster, as if meeting an old friend he hadn’t seen for so many years.

            Wodd! he thought.

            He was placing the new eggs in the Hatching Room, it was crowded. He had never seen that. So many dragon eggs.

            :recycle:

            Wodd! Another energy surge, like some aspects switching swiftly and smoothly. His perception had shifted again. He felt the reassuring presence of his friends, in the background so to speak, but so close. They knew he had to go through it alone and were just here supportive energies. They were playing and shape-shifting so swiftly, as to facilitate his own movement. At one time they were like a blond girl dancing and a filthy heavy man burping. At another they were like a scrawny horse and a man with a strange hat on his head. At another again, they were just blurred and smelly cherry alcohol… Trying to focus on all those changes was making him dizzier. But he was also feeling the easiness in his own movement if he didn’t oppose the process.

            All the eggs were shining and changing colors, he knew it was their different forms and colors in different timelines and also in different probable lines… He saw for a moment like a big airy fish, translucent and wow so big. It was straddling dimensions and it had a strange shrimpy companion always gravitating around.

            The eggs were all put together, not too close, and not to far away to create some resonance between them… Who would be here for the hatching? Who would bond with them? He was feeling odd as if it will all be taken care of in time.

            — OK! it’s over, now we can join Malvina and welcome our guests.

            He heard himself speaking with so many voices, some young, some older, and some even feminine voices.

            :face-crying:

            The dragons were wearing their blond wig again, like twin dancers… laughing and having so much fun.

            in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #543

            The bal room was ready. Malvina was looking around and decided that all was perfect now
            She felt the subtle ripples of her friends energy. Sam was waiting patiently their arrival.

            The east wall just blurred and began to glow lightly of deep teal and emerald shades, blended in a beautiful and quite creative whirlpool.

            Malvina just moved her attention on the encoding of her hair and shift slightly some hue to express a dark stary night, sparkling and full of mystery.

            A thrill went through her body as she saw Georges and Salome emerge from the wall… and she burst into laughter at the sight of the marmoset which was looking at her with such a big smile :face-monkey:

            Her laugh rippled through the crystals of the cave, making their light iridescent and swinging.

            WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! A giant disco ball :bounce: just for us.

            Georges couldn’t stop laughing and began dancing as Salome was generating a peppy and swinging music… he was all jumping and swirling, and Sam was jumping all around, barking at him with joy.

            — What the hell, began Leörmn but he was fascinated.

            And that’s when a wavy Irtak entered the discave with his 2 dragons… they immediately changed shape and began to swirl around with Georges, and Irtak was wondering if he was dreaming or if it was another process in his discovery… he was feeling as if he was dancing as the man-Georges. :yahoo_hypnotized: His body just started moving following the movements of Georges and they were just one.

            in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #591

            Arona sat by herself just outside the cave. It was twilight hour, in between the dark and the light. She had awoken early, with a heaviness in her heart.

            Maybe I will just sit here for ever and ever and never move again, she mused, I will turn to stone, and they will make legends up about me, the strange stone girl of Malvina’s cave.

            Buckberry the little dragon ambled over and sat quietly next to her. He had been foraging in the half light for the buckberries which grew outside the entrance to the cave, and to which he was extremely partial. Arona reached out a hand, slowly, and petted him. She felt tears begin to form somewhere in the dark space behind her eyes, was it many tears or one endless tear? she wondered. The tear started falling from her right eye first. The left eye seemed more reluctant to cry, and when eventually a little trickle started down her face, she followed its watery path with interest.

            Light will come, said the voice kindly, can you feel it?

            The tear from her left eye had caught up now, Arona noticed, and was first to dampen the waiting earth.

            Buckberry and Arona sat for quite some time, communing in companionable silence, and both knew that morning a bond was formed that would not easily be broken.

            in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #616

            She had felt it.
            When the old man had left his body behind, she had felt it.

            Oorlaith had foreseen that he would decide to leave this World, and thus was not affected too much. However, she was not sure that Leonard, who she had sent to the highs of Mount Elok’ram had had time to retrieve the cup of Margilonia.

            Oorlaith had already collected the wand of Selvaniel, which Leonard had brought back to her, thanks to her indications, from the Forest bordering the Marshes. Now, she hoped he had time enough to get to the old Abbot.
            Otherwise, it might be more delicate…
            Much more delicate…

            Hopefully, she had made contact with Roselyn, who had been settling in another part of Asgurdy, on one of the numerous rocky islands bordering the South-western coasts, where life was scarce and the soil barren, but where it was safe enough to do magic in this superstitious land, as not much people ventured to these places.
            Her spiked dragon had helped her carve out her new residency and she was quite well installed now.
            Before moving from the deserts of Asgurdy, she had managed to get the sunstone of Agnima.

            in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #669

            So why are you here? Malvina was asking to the man with amber eyes and the black-haired woman with streaks of teal.
            Tired of having danced, Leo, the marmoset was nestled on her lap, and she was lovingly stroking his little white mane. Comfortably put on langoat wool cushions, she was sipping yrok-butter tea, around a low round table with her alien guests.

            Well, that is a long story, said Georges
            And you probably are aware of a part of it, said Salome
            Yes, I am, answered Malvina, as far as dragons’ memory goes…
            Indeed, and there was a time before the dragons…

          Viewing 25 replies - 26 through 50 (of 81 total)