Attempting to lead men who are drunk with the dream of power is easy as long as you expect your advice and pleas for prudence to blow like the wind past their ear-less heads vanishing like an apparition in the mist.
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Flight of Fancy
By Dean Stevens Flying, flying high above I walk on air unseen by the denizens of Earth So busy below staring at your own feet So busy below refusing to glance around and see Here I am people! See me! Hear me! I am you…once not so long ago! For once we all walked on air--flying, soaring, dreaming! Once we were one, looking up, rejoicing, dancing--day and night! Playing fanciful games, singing, harmonizing to the sounds of life. One by one Either from curiosity or apathy you left the air and began to walk Soon forgetting about flying, dancing and harmonizing. One by one you no longer looked up to see me here, --Alone-- "Mom, can't you hear him?" "Hear who honey?" "The man singing in the beautiful, but sad voice." "Faintly, yes I hear him." "I want to look up and see his face!" "NO, you must not!" "But, why? He is so lonely and his voice makes me want to sing!" "You must continue to look down at your feet and absolutely no singing!" "Why?" "Because it is dangerous and forbidden!" "Why?" "He is a non-conformist! He refuses to walk on the ground. He refuses to stop singing and dancing. He does not...does not...WORK!!" "Why must we work?" "We work so we can buy things we need and to be happy." "What is happy?" "Being happy is having work, having a family and being able to buy what you need." "Is that it?" "Yes, don't worry yourself over it!" "That voice… why is everyone else ignoring him?" "They can no longer hear him. There is our dwelling. I think it is time for sleep now." "Okay, mom." I am confused. I think I am dreaming mom. I am dreaming of the singing man. He was not walking...what was he doing? His feet were not on the ground! He is calling me in his sad-sweet voice. I feel like I am floating. It is not allowed but I look up. I want to sing. I like this dream. I want to dream and dance. I am no longer asking why. --Goodbye-- I must be dreaming. I am looking upon blue that envelopes my eyes, traveling through them and into my mind, filling my brain with a color that is both peaceful in a manner I have never felt before and unsettling, making me feel as if I might fall back to that sidewalk world where everything is so ordinary, never to experience a blue like this again. I gasp in air, aware that I have forgotten to breathe. I briefly think of my mom and how much trouble I am going to be in if I don't hurry back and forget this whole business. The thought passes, like the clouds, and I lose myself in their fanciful shapes, marveling. Is this happiness? “<CROAK>” I am startled by the sound of my own voice. What was I doing? If that was singing, I don't think I can do it. How did the man make such dulcet tones fill the sky? Where is he? What am I doing? I really need to go home! I have home work! There are chores to be done! Mother will be angry! "Gentle vision…do not be a trick upon my eyes. If you are a trick, I am fooled and if fooled I may as well act the fool for thee?" Each syllable of his speech is both entrancing and frightening. Startled, I scream. "You are a goddess; for your voice is like thunder and even your quiet utterances rattle my sinews and bones, reminding me of my imperfections." "Who...who are you?" "I am your humble servant. You have answered my call when no other could hear, which makes you most extraordinary indeed!" "Why? Why me?" "That my dear girl is an excellent query. Why indeed! Why is a question that can get one in a great deal of difficulty. Why is the best of all words. When we stop asking why we cease to move and when we cease to move we can no longer fly. Without the ability to ask why we are pulled by our own gravity to the Earth where we become so small we lose the ability to use our senses." "I think I begin to understand the sadness in your beautiful voice!" "I remember when, life was not so gloomy I remember when, we all rejoiced and sang There was once a day, when we reached for the stars I remember when, but those days are now so far There is no shame in using imagination There is no shame in asking the reason why We can find love again and dream of bright tomorrows If we don't give in, we can end our darkest sorrows Give me an old gray stone, I can make a diamond Give me a Squawking Crow, I can make a Wren If someone says look down, I say look up again If someone says don't do it, I say begin Anything is possible just think it and it's true Make your dreams reality sure as the sky is blue Reach for the stars before the afternoon Find what's in your heart your time is coming soon." "I could never sing like you. What you say is impossible!" "Dear child, aren't you listening? The impossible is just propaganda used to weigh down your heart and make you too heavy to fly! You decide what you can do. YOU do! Don't look confused! Don't make that face! This is the last time I will speak the contemptible word don't! Are you flying, yes or no?" "Well I seem to be." "Yes or no, no or yes, one or the other, forget the rest!" "Yes I am flying! I may also be dreaming!" "Oh, you are most assuredly dreaming dear girl. Now I will show you where dreams live! Come! Follow me, if you dare! Let's go on an adventure!" "I don't think my mom is going to like this!" "Oooooooh! She won't! Not one bit!" His smile was a slow moving tide, curling around the shape of his face, winding and turning into a bow shape like a figure from a lost fairy tale. I could do nothing but fly alongside this odd, interesting man, relaxing my fears and giving in to the sensation of the intense, azure brightness and soft ensnaring breeze. --Dreaming-- Flying far above the mundane world below, I follow the intriguing man on the sky-tide, surfing the aerie waves lost in my dreams. I can almost feel his thoughts, pulling me in new places, seeing for the first time possibilities unimagined. Suddenly I am startled out of my reverie as my flight ends abruptly. I am stuck like a butterfly caught in a web. Naturally I scream at the top of my lungs. What else could I do? "Where are we!?" "I am right here, flying above you!" "No! I mean...I can't move!! What has changed?" "Nothing...and everything! My status is precisely as it were before you released your Banshee wail. You on the other hand, appear to have become stuck in a quagmire." "Yes, exactly! Dare I ask why I am stuck and how I can get out? I don't see any webs but I feel trapped." "Some things should be learned for one's self. I see your frustration, so fear not, I will offer you some advice. You have almost answered your own question already. What does one do when one feels trapped? I for one attempt to determine the cause; then once the cause is known, search for solutions to the problem. I test those solutions until one gets me the results I desire." "Your explanation sounds like something from Ms. Rupert's Science class. According to science I cannot fly, so how can I be stuck in the sky next to a flying man by webs I cannot see?" "Oh dear one, do they teach nothing to you in mole-land? Science is the art of understanding how things are, not how things seem. Tell me girl, what is required to understand science in Ms. Rupert's class?" "You need a science book, a notebook to work out problems, maybe a ruler or a scale to measure things, a beaker if we are doing chemistry experiments, a scalpel for biology." "So to understand science, you need a guidebook, a means to work out problems and the proper tools?" "Science is not that simple!" "Science is applied reason mixed in a solution of ideas and poured into form by imagination. It seems to me, that when man went to live on the ground he forgot all about imagination and instead focused on procedure. Procedure alone will only serve to trap one in tedious repetition." "Wait a minute! Did you just give me the answer? All I have to do is use my imagination and I will break free?" ---I'm free!! How? Wait...all I did was think the webs away by imagining they were dissolved in my mind!" "When the mind becomes ensnared in singular possibilities, the narrowed path of thought limits one's perception until flight becomes impossible. Only the stupid believe there is only one path to freedom and happiness. A rock is submerged in a pond. A fish swims up to the rock and circles him in rapid fashion. The rock boasts, "I am secure in my position in life. No matter what happens I will remain thus." The fish pauses from its rapid swim upon hearing the rock's boast and says, "But sir rock, you cannot move. If a mudslide were to occur just now I would swim away but you would be buried. What security is there in knowing you cannot move if events require you to do so?" "I asked my mom what happiness is. She said work. If imagination is freedom and happiness and the foundation for science, why don't we promote imagination over work, duty, and everything else?" "Why indeed? The answer is fundamental to why I have been up here alone for so long. A person with an unfettered imagination can create whatever he or she wants. Have you heard of a Chimera?" "No, whatever might a Chimera be?" "A Chimera is a mythical beast. Our ancestors believed it was real. It had multiple heads, one dragon, one lion and one goat and it had wings. It has come to symbolize fanciful thoughts. So much has the Chimera faded from our thoughts that most like you have never even heard of one." "I should very much like to see a Chimera." "Dear girl, you can make your own Chimera. We all have the capacity. The power to do so is buried under layers of procedure, repetition and nay-saying. I see that look of disbelief. Oh very well. I shall take you to meet the Chimera. See that large jagged mountain peak in the distance?" "Yes." "Follow me then." "Does the Chimera live on that mountain?" "Oh no. He lives inside the mountain." "How do you propose we get in to see the Chimera then?" "We fly at break-neck speed directly into the side of the mountain of course." "Okay." What else could I do but follow this fascinating, lunatic into the side of the mountain? I simply cannot miss the chance to meet a Chimera. Besides, I am only dreaming. Right? I hope I do not get in trouble for sleeping too long today. --Commencing on a Flight of Fancy-- The jagged mountain became an immense, cold and unforgiving mass that filled my vision. My ears hurt, not from the cold or the speed in which we were fast approaching this unmoved Goliath, but from the sound of my scream as fear enveloped my soul. Before I could think to stop, I recognize that the intense life-stopping pain I expected to feel just before I ceased to be is unrealized and I am standing, disoriented in a dark room with swirling lights all around and the most intense aroma of lilac and baked cookies filling my senses. "Am I dead?" "Are you speaking of your mind, your body, or some abstract literary perspective?" "I don't recognize your voice, who are you? You are not the flying man!" "Well I AM hurt! Are you SURE you don't recognize my voice?" "Most definitely not! Your voice is deep and terrible, with the power of a mountain. I fear you could bring this entire place crashing down upon us." "Well! Wellllllll! Well now!! Yes, I suppose I could do that, now couldn't I? I could let out a growl that could shake the universe! I could grumble a grumbly-brumbly bellow that could shake the stars from the sky. But why, oh why do you think I would do such a thing? I rather like it here in this small room inside a mountain." "I'm sorry; my mother told me I shouldn't assume things. Perhaps you could tell me why you are here and why I am here and who you are and what you want with me and where did the flying man go?" "Slow down! One question at a time! Do you have any idea how long it will take me to search the card catalog for the answers to all of those questions? One moment, now where was I? Oh yes, you asked me a question! The best way to answer a question is with a question, at least that is my policy… so let me ask you...who do you think I am?" "If I were to make a guess, I would say you are the Chimera!" "The Chimera? Oh, no girl, there are many Chimeras. I am not THE Chimera, I am only a small figment, not really so grand compared to THE Chimera. In fact, I really don't like the word Chimera. It is too...too...too Greek! I prefer Lamassu! Now there is a name!!! Lamassu suggests character, sophistication, style and a touch of erudite finesse. Chimera! Pah! Can you even pronounce it? Those Greeks were always so struck with hard consonants and rough breathing...What was the question?" "You asked me a question, and then questioned my answer!" "So I did! I apologize! A Chimera cannot help but be a little queer. And a Lamassu is certainly an oddity among Chimerae when querying. Since I was unfair and asked a question of your question I will give you an answer this time without question. I like it here and I have nowhere else to go at the moment." "What?" "I said I like it here. Was I speaking too softly?" "Please don't shout! Why do you like it here? Wouldn't you rather be somewhere else?" "Well, I don't know. I suppose, I mean, well, where else would I go? I've never been anywhere else but here." "You could fly, or walk to the moon or swim in the ocean!" "Hmmmm, well now that you mention it, I could do those things! Which to do first? Should I walk to the moon and swim in the ocean; or fly to the moon, and then go swimming? Perhaps I should skip the walk altogether?" HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! "What is that sound you make? Are you trying to scare me?" "I'm laughing silly Lamassu! You are very funny!!" "Well, hmm, hum, mum, dum, now that you say so I AM funny. In fact I am the life of the party and I owe it all to you. Thank you for gifting me with such a fine boon. Most of us are rather droll, drooly and drab and some of us are droopy and drippy...oh but not ME! I am funny and I can walk on the moon and fly and swim in the ocean and my voice could shatter a mountain. You awe me girl. I am most lucky indeed! May I offer you a cookie? I made them myself!" "Yes please! I love cookies!" The Lamassu reached up with the most delicate of reaches and grasped a glass vessel shaped like a tulip. Inside the jar I could see the baked delights, the sight of which tempted me beyond anything I have ever encountered before. She lifted the lid from the jar, for the Lamassu, was female, though I am not sure how I knew this, and the scent of lilac filled the air, making me feel light and giddy. "I baked these today using only the finest ingredients. I hope you find they are satisfying." I took just a nibble, and instantly felt more alive than at any time I can remember. My thoughts were sharp and my limbs felt as powerful as mature trees. "What is in these cookies? I have never had anything like them!" "Essence of thought, a Dram of goodwill, a tear drop from a poet, some gossamer fill. A touch of inspiration, a bundle of sun, four grains of sugar, four grains of fun. I mixed it with passion, I folded with dreams, I placed in the oven until they were steamed." "You are MY Lamassu aren't you?! I thought you were the flying man's Chimera, but he brought me here to find you. Is it my imagination or are you getting bigger?" "Oh, I am fairly certain it is your imagination. You are the one on the flight of fancy which brought you crashing through a mountain to talk with me and indulge in my cookies. I am rather dull actually. I try to think of great things, to be inspirational, to get people to listen to my stories, but I find that no matter how hard I try the only thing I manage is to hear the echo of my own voice bouncing off of the inside of this room. Echo, Echooo, Echooooooo! Please understand; I love this place. It is all I know, but when it comes to big thoughts I am a prisoner in my mind." "Nonsense! You are a wonderful Lamassu, and an incredible baker. I will take you to my neighborhood and you will become an instant celebrity! All we need to do is figure out how to get out of here. I really rather you didn't bring down the mountain with your amazing voice!" "Why don't you just use the door you entered when you arrived?" "Door? What door?" "Every dwelling has a door, and this has been my dwelling for as long as I can remember. You probably just overlooked it. I have sort of outgrown it recently." So, my Lamassu has grown! I knew it! She is pointing to a very small portal near the point where I first became aware of this place, but it is far too small for me to have entered from. I shuffle over for a closer look. The door has an intricate stained glass window, a doorknob made of ruby, and wood of the finest quality, polished to look like alabaster, however only the thinnest mouse could possible squeeze through. "I can't go through that!" "Why not? I cleaned it today. It's not filthy!" "Why not? I am too big. Isn't that obvious?" "That didn't seem to stop you when you came in!" Thinking this is some sort of trick, I grab my Lamassu's enormous finger with my hand and with the other reach for the doorknob. I turn the knob and before I could think of something clever to say, I discover we are both outside the great mountain staring up at the sky which has turned a deep purple mixed with orange and red. I am disappointed that the flying man is not here waiting for me. Uncertain what to do, I begin to sing. I didn't know how much I missed I was afraid to dream of you I didn't know how much I lost I did what I was told to do oh Lamassu, oh Lamassu How could I know there was so much more How could I know you were out here I lived a life that was so full of dread I lived a life that was so dull and led But now I fly and I am free to dream I can do what I want to I never want this dream to end Oh Lamassu, oh Lamassu. "What now my Lamassu?" "We could walk to the moon." "That might be fun, but what about the flying man?" "Perhaps he is there waiting." "Lead on Lamassu." "Tis a journey we must make as one." "How do we do that?" "Think of me and I will think of you." "Okay, here we go, here I go. We go as one." (sung as a duet) I walk to the moon without a balloon I walk to the golden faire The breeze in the trees is made of green cheese And they have a fine time there Once to the moon, Once to the faire Once to see the old man When I return, if I return I'll never look stern Or the old man will follow me home I'll sing of the breeze I'll sing of the trees I'll sing of the golden faire The town folk will say My mind's gone astray But the old man knows the truth The old man knows the truth Once to the moon You sing like a loon You sing of the golden faire --Walking to the Moon-- Hand in hand, whistling a random tune we stride forth, ever closer to our crater-pocked destination. I look over to my Lamassu who is trying to decide whether to walk backward or forward and rather absently I say to her, "Walking is a wonderful way to clear the mind," "Hmmm? How so? What I mean to say is what do you mean by a clear mind? Isn't a clear mind transparent and doesn't that suggest rather empty?" "Well I suppose that is what I mean. The mind becomes empty of things it does not need." "Oh dear! How do you know you will not need them?" "I am talking about anxious thoughts, ones that make one nervous." "Perhaps we should stop walking. I think you gave your nervous thoughts to me. I feel bad for them. Those anxious thoughts might feel unwanted, wandering around outside your head with no explanation as to why they have been evicted! Does it hurt when your head gets full?" "Lamassu, no one has ever suggested my head is full; nor does it hurt. It is a simple expression. I am relaxed. Happy. But I must ask; what are you doing?” "I am walking to the moon." "Yes, but you are looking back and not forward. You are walking backward!" "I am experimenting. Has anyone ever walked to the moon before? How should one do it, forward or backward, sideways or stagger-stepped? Would dancing to the moon still be the same as walking? I have to know." "If you walk backward to the moon, you will miss the experience of seeing it for the first time, only knowing where you have been and not where you are going." "You are wise indeed"! Moving forward is the mode for the day." My Lamassu spins completely around. Realizing she is in the exact position she started she spins half around and with a mighty roar shouts, "Behold! We are here!" "Of course we are here. We can't be there. We haven't gone there yet." "You are wise beyond words. What I meant to declare is I think we have arrived at the moon?" "How did you come to that conclusion, Lamassu?" "Well for one, there are craters." "That is hardly enough evidence." "And there is this sign that reads, 'Welcome to the moon.” Sure enough, there is a sign on a rock inscribed with a welcome. "Well that is nice to put up a welcome sign. What if I couldn't read it?" "If you couldn't read it I would have made the proclamation myself in a language you are familiar with...assuming you have a language." In unison, the Lamassu and I say, "Who said that?" "I did of course. Focus your attention down here." About two foot tall, pocked and slightly green adorned only with a pocket watch that was tucked neatly into a crease in her jeans stood a talking stone. She was leaning slightly on the welcome sign with a craggy grin and broad, oval eyes. "You are a rock!" "I am olivine basalt. You may call me Olive." "Pleased to make your acquaintance Olive. We have walked to the moon to go to the golden faire and meet the old man and perhaps find our missing flying man." "Why didn't you just fly?" "We wanted to try something new." "Oh, then you have come to the right place! The Moon was full, so she shook and shook. And out came forth with jittery looks Men and creatures from long lost books Slowly, her shaking certainly waned The Men and creatures feared again That her shaking would return anew So the Men flew off to the land of blue The creatures, they wanted to leave too But they could not decide what to do The Moon was so tired she took her seat She was so hungry she knew she must eat So she decided to eat the creatures she found The creatures then panicked and scampered around They ran, jumped and scurried until they started to wheeze When one came upon a grizzled old man So ancient was he that he could not have ran Why do you run creature, why do you wheeze? Old man, do you know of a way to appease The Moon, for her great hunger we can only tease Have you tried feeding her all this green cheese? Green cheese? That is a myth, I had hoped for some aid A myth can be true if well enough said And with that his plan was well laid He gathered a wagon and filled it with dust. He instructed the creatures to pull it with lust Lead the cart to the Lunar Lady and speak of it so As a vessel of victuals of the most savory cheese known With flavors most regal, texture to please The Moon will accept them because she's so lean Tell her the flavors come forth when it's green Then slowly, then faster, leave her feasting, just shoo! Feasting on green cheese and a tall draft of dew Thus the Lunar Lady lunged for the morsels of cheese And waxed full again and the creatures were pleased They scooped up the old man and made him their king In his honor they celebrate their golden faire fling. We applaud Olive's song as it richly deserved. "Olive, when can we go to the golden faire?" "Anyone can go to the golden faire. It is not a question of when, but where. We are on the dark side of the moon. I'm afraid there's not much to see." "So where do we go?" "Follow me. You must travel between the dark side and light, to the place blended equally with both of their lights. We must travel to Cinereo through the land in between." "I have never heard of Cinereo." "Oh Cinereo has heard of you, I offer with certitude. It is the land of shadows, a land of glitter. It is a land where the impossible lives. “ “What about the land in between?” The land b’tween is a gray realm between dark and light. If you look out of the corner of your eye you will see the trail clearly marked. Do not tarry or stray from the path or you may become lost in between the places that are and are not. I do not have the time to look for you if that happens. Stay focused"! What else could we do? My Lamassu, Olive the talking rock and I follow the path out of the corner of our eye to the land of Cinereo. Hopefully we will not be late for the golden faire. This is no longer a dream. I must see the journey through wherever it takes me. My mother would never believe this anyway. -Cinereo- Looking out of the corner of my eye, I found it was quite easy to follow the trail to Cinereo. The path itself was smooth, devoid of large rocks and craters and rather dull. There was no breeze, and no sound other than the rhythmic movements of Olive and my Lamassu. The landscape is gray. Everything is gray. Faint, I hear a musical quality to the dust which pulls me in its direction...Odd, really considering the utter lack of wind. The symphony playing on the dusty wind is so beautiful. In the back of my mind it is familiar. I want to fly, dance and sing, but the sound of the wind cautions me to be silent. I become less aware of the frantic voice in the background. When did it start? It must be my imagination! Soon, I find the source of the choir of chalky dust. I pass between two great mounds of dust. Before me is a chamber of such beauty as I am certain no eyes have glimpsed before or since. Walls of glittering crystal project their multi-colored light in a dazzling dance of delightful patterns. The softest curtains of plush velvet brush lightly against the walls producing a dulcet melody most welcome. Eager, I rush inside the chamber and imagine I have fallen asleep. In my dream I am flying home. "Oh, poo-pah and whatever shall I do", said the Lamassu to no one in particular. "Wake up my girl! Wake up! Tell me what to do! Oh dear me, me oh dear, whatever shall I do? Help! Help us!" Lost in dreams and linked to her girl, the Lamassu had followed quiet as a shadow. She lost track of how long they had walked, focusing all of her energy on keeping the girl in sight. The girl paused for a moment; then rushed down some steps into a deep pit. Faster than the Lamassu could whimper out a plea to stop the girl lie down in the center of the pit fast asleep. Nothing she tried seems to wake the girl. Without warning a series of stone blocks fall over the opening to the pit entombing the two of them inside. "Those rocks laughed, just as they fell. I am sure of it!" Dust and debris pour into the cracks between the rock and the laughter from the rocks is muffled, then silent. The gray twilight sky is no longer visible above them. "Oh dear girl, please wake up!" The dust on the floor of the pit reacts to the plea, flowing up from below like churning water. It is all the Lamassu can do to keep the sand from covering the girl's prone form. Soon the dust has risen past the Lamassu's knees. She lifts the girl onto her shoulder to keep her from asphyxiating on dust. Starting deep in the belly, resonating through the chest and bellowing out through the wide open orifice of the great beast, the Lamassu bellows forth a roar of such magnitude that people on Earth, momentarily paused their activities, as in question as to the nature of the sound they heard. "GRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOORROOOOOOOOOOAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!" bellowed the Lamassu with all her might. The rocks above shook, shattered, and fell on the great Lamassu with a mighty death knell, pummeling her flesh. Battered, she leaped with all her might. At the apex of her leap one particularly large rock launched itself at her, shrieking as it struck her on the head. The Lamassu fell with a loud thud into the surrounding dust, her last act kept the girl safely protected from the worst of the fall, nestled on top of the mighty beast. "I told her not to tarry. I told her not to stray from the path"! Olive looked back and forth from its pocket watch to the prone form of the girl and the battered Lamassu. They were comfortably resting on the finest bedding available. The room was artificially bright; however the source of the light was not apparent. The old man had come as soon as he heard the Chimera's wail. He found the girl and the Chimera and brought them to this place, Olive in tow. "The creatures from in between are a mischievous and dangerous lot. We are fortunate the girl's Chimera is so bonded to her. If the Chimera had failed to follow the girl, she would be lost to us." "Can you save them" asked Olive. "The girl is strong. She will recover. As for the Chimera, that depends on the girl and how much she has grown". He bent over the girl, almost hovering and whispered in her ear, "Anything is possible just think it and it's true Make your dreams reality sure as the sky is blue Reach for the stars before the afternoon Find what's in your heart your time has come." Her breath quickened at the sound of his voice and her eyes began to flutter. With a start, she bolted upright. "I thought it was all over." When her eyes opened she saw the impatient rock Olive starring at its watch. "And it would have been if not for your creature's fierce roar! Why didn't you listen to me? All you had to do was follow instructions!" "Oh Olive, it was not your fault. I was lulled by the tedium of the terrain. Then I heard a magical sound. I followed it. There was the most fantastic palace filled with the loveliest tones and the most splendid of lights. I remember feeling very tired. I dreamed this was all over and I returned home and was doing homework." Olive looked down at its pocket watch unable to find any words to rebuke her with. "NO! What has happened to my sweet Lamassu?" "It appeared she was injured defending your from the creatures in-between." "Will she live?" "She needs you for that." "What can I do?" "The creature was there when you needed her, be there for her." I walk over to my Lamassu's bed. Her breathing is heavy and she is a mass of bruises. Gently, I climb up into her bed and slowly begin to pat her. "Don't give up my friend. You are very important to me. You have a voice like thunder. You can fly, walk to the moon, and swim in the ocean. You can save foolish girls from their folly. You bake the most wonderful cookies! We have many more adventures to go on. You are by far, the best Lamassu ever. You are so incredible, why...you can even heal your own wounds. Now show me what you are made of and get up and give me a hug!" The Lamassu's breathing because stronger and steady. Within a few moments her bruises were no longer swollen. Then they were gone. First one eye opened and then the other. She stretched one wing wide and then the other. Deep down in her chest came a marvelous yawn. Then a smile appeared that grew faster each moment. "My friend, I see you survived and are well! Let me give you a hug; then we must go. I want to see Cinereo before you are full grown!" We hugged for a long time and then apologized once more to Olive. "Dear Olive, will you still lead us on the Cinereo to see the Golden Faire?" Olive looked at her watch and then looked at the girl. "There is still time to do it. Please stay on the path. Remember, sometimes what you imagine to be dull, tedious and slow, may be exactly what is needed. The line between adventure and doom is often a matter of good judgment." "We will take your advice. Fear not. That last experience is not one we need to repeat anytime soon!” We left the healing tent. When I looked back, it was gone. We shrugged, and followed Olive down the path, focusing out of the corner of our eyes. We told jokes, spoke of dreams, cookies and friendship. The time passed much faster. Soon we arrived. Cinereo was something I hadn't thought possible. I shall do my best to describe what happened next, but I am not certain I have the skill, nor that anyone will believe me. -- Invitation to the Golden Faire-- I woke from wild dreams when I was very little. At those moments when I was not sure if I was truly awake and I lingered just a bit longer in the realm of my mind a calm beauty would overtake me as I remembered the fantastical images from those treasured slumbers. Just as the images soon faded in my wakeful mind and I was unable to fully describe my dreams, so too would it be impossible to explain the wonders of Cinereo. "Olive, is this the Golden Faire?" "Oh no child, this is just a meeting place for the lesser creatures of Cinereo." "If this spectacle is a simple gathering point, I may find the Golden Faire beyond my wits to imagine." "That is true." said Olive. The streets were paved in bronze. Strange trees with glowing golden eyes danced exotic tangos on its border, dipping with a flash of tapered silken ribbons in our honor. Tiny blue lights blinked in and out of our path, giggling like soft chimes as they hovered almost too close to us. Their light was unnecessary though as the light from the sun reflected strangely from golden mirrors and amber lenses focusing a scintillating aurulent glow on our path. The breeze was vitalizing after the tedious walk in-between and had a faint, fragrant, tantalizing scent. "Hahaha!" I laughed. "What is so funny?" asked my Lamassu. "Something about the breeze makes me laugh." "You smell green cheese. It has special properties. Many can't detect it at all. For those with overactive imaginations it can have many effects. I would suggest you not inhale too much of it dear girl." said Olive. I tried to take Olive's advice, taking in only short breaths, covering my face and nose with a scarf, but the more I tried the more I inhaled, until I was so light on my feet I no longer touched the ground. My giggles only serve to draw more of the local denizens to us. They bow and wave and sing merry tunes. Lost in my thoughts, my attention is drawn to a retinue of parti-colored creatures playing pear-shaped stringed instruments and brass horns. The crowd parts as they approach us. The tune is lively but abruptly stops as the group comes to a sudden halt. One of the instruments, a cello I believe, with a motley conical hat over the handle begins to read from a long scroll. "Hear ye, hear ye. Dear Miss and your Chimera, You are cordially invited and shall be most graciously received Should we have the honor and privilege of your company In attendance of the Golden Faire on the morrow. Please accept this token of admittance without which You shall not be joining us. But we hope you do." With this the Cello hands me the token, bows deeply emitting a C sharp minor in the process, and with no further ado the entire retinue leaves as quick as they appeared. I look at the ticket. "What does it say?" asks my Lamassu. "Admittance to the Golden Faire. One Miss and her Chimera. On the morrow. Formal Cinereo attire required. See Frandrake the Magnificent for fittings. Down the street and to the left next to the large waterfall." "Well that answers my questions." said my Lamassu. "Who is Frandread"? I ask. "Franfake? That old tart is trouble and in spades. I won't go near him. If you must go see that mountebank I will wait for your return here." said Olive. "Sounds like great fun! Let's go see him at once." said my Lamassu. We scamper down the street and take the first left. After a few minutes we realize we are completely lost. I stop an old goat and ask him for directions. He nearly eats my token, but I pull it back in time and he eats my scarf instead. "Burp! Thanks for the snack! Did you take the left next to the large waterfall?" "We took the first left we saw." "People are so impatient! Do you always take the first left you find? How do you know that left isn't trying to deceive you? Your token clearly states take the left next to a large waterfall! I strongly suggest you retrace your steps and start over." "Thanks, our fault, we will go back." "Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" We finally retrace our steps, noticing that the blue balls of light continue to follow and chase us wherever we go. After walking a few more blocks we find a left turn featuring a large waterfall. The water is purple and flows up into the starry sky where it is caught in a crystal pool. We try to determine how the pool never fills up but give up after a few moments. The path twists and narrows. Unkempt hedges bar our view of the surrounding area increasing our confusion and making it impossible to sense directions. Despite the winding path, after a thousand paces the path ends at the entrance of a large cottage. The cottage has a roof fashioned from fine satin, the windows are high quality stained glass, and the door is a rare darkened wood. Smoke billows slowly from a chimney. A sign in front of the door reads, "FRANDRAKE the MAGNIFICENT: Tailor, Exchequer, Notary Public, Vintner, Choreographer, Fortune Teller and Geologist." "This must be the place." I say. "...Or Frandrake has franchises!" said my Lamassu. I start toward the door, hesitating briefly only to be run over by my Lamassu. She races past me to jingle a string of bells attached to the door. The sound of the bells is pleasant but so loud that all the blue orbs that had followed us up the pathway scatter behind the bushes and turn red, humming in low tones. A voice bellows out from inside the cottage. "I said I will pay you next week as soon as I find a few more marks to fleece! Go away!" A bulbous purple lizard with diaphanous wings, far too small for flight is the source of the voice. He looks out cautiously from the opened door but firmly blocks the entrance. He is dressed in yellow silk pajamas with fuzzy slippers on his feet. "Excuse me! Are you Mr. Frandrake the Magnificent"? When the lizard speaks, bubbles come out of his nose smelling of bourbon and mint. "No, I am not. Now go away!" "But, the sign says you are!" "Don't believe everything you read baby. There is a lot of false advertising out there. Frandrake is far more than magnificent, he's stupendous. If you have coin, he's omniscient, omnipotent and omnifabulous too. Now since you don't seem to have the mental acumen to skedaddle, perhaps you can explain why you have come from a faraway land to parley with his extraordinariness." "We have a token to attend the Golden Faire and were directed to request Frandrake's services for proper dress." "Dress??? Poo-pah! Dress??? You've come to the wrong place! Frandrake the incredible doesn't create dress. Frandrake the august creates wearable world wonders. Let me see that token." The winged lizard snatches the token from my hand like a kung-fu master. "Admittance, blah, blah, blah...blah...Formal Cinereo attire required. See Frandrake the Magnificent for fittings. See Frandrake the Magnificent for fittings? Fittings? Where is the line about com-pen-sation. Is fittings some new court word for Fee? Frandrake is not some cheap tart sitting around waiting for the court to move his strings like a wooden puppet"! "HAHAHAHA!" "What--whatever are you cackling about young lady?" "You said tart!" "So, what of it? The point was the term is Fandrake's antonym." "Olive said you were a tart!" "Olive!!! Olive? What does Olive know? Olive is a fine one to talk. She is hardly more than common sandstone...not a grain of quartz or any other semi-precious stone in her makeup. She's just upset because I beat her at rock, paper, scissors every single time...perhaps if she picked something other than rock once in a while..." "So you ARE Frandrake the magnificent!?!" "What? So I am. Of course I am! Who else could pull off yellow silk pajamas with fuzzy slippers and still look this marvelous?" "So you will help us?" "I suppose. I shall consider you a personal challenge to eclipse my former exalted masterpieces. Perhaps I am handicapping myself a bit, but business was slow today...oh, one more thing...I am sending the court a bill for the work, to be paid in full no later than next week. Where are my manners? Do come in. Ignore the mess. I simply must hire a maid and a butler. Take a seat while I find my measuring tools." "I hope this is not a mistake." "If it is, I am sure we can find someone else to help us!" said my Lamassu. "I don't know, from what I've seen, not that many people have heard of wearing clothes in Cinereo." We enter the cottage. It seems much bigger on the inside. Astrological models, statues of strange creatures, maps, bales of silk and satin, and odd ephemera mark every spare corner. An intricately carved table and chairs serve as a focal point to the room. A large pile of gold and gems is neatly stacked near a silk purse at the head of the table. A tea kettle still steamed from its spout and an empty cup accompanied it. Frandrake returns with a flourish, and several tailor tools. "The Chimera will be easy. I have patterns for her. Now you child...what EXACTLY are you?? You will be a challenge!" "I am human." "How barbaric! I thought they'd all gone extinct!" "Now there's no need to be rude. I didn't call you a dragon, and threaten to slay you and take your silly gold now did I?" "Wait a minute...I'm not a dragon. I'm Frandrake the..." "Can it buddy, the customer is ALWAYS right!" roared my Lamassu. "Okay. No need to get hostile." Faster than the eye can follow; Frandrake worked his magic, fashioning attire for the Lamassu and me with master precision. Scissors and wings whipped the air in unison and needle and thread were dancing to their own music. Fabric, gemstones and fairy dust tangoed. When finished Frandrake, my Lamassu and myself all collapsed exhausted from the experience. "Magnificent!" exclaimed my Lamassu. "Indubitably!" said Frandrake. Token in hand, dressed in the finest attire available in Cinereo, attended by blue orbs of light, dancing trees and creatures small and large beyond the description of my wildest dreams, we bid Frandrake fair well and make our way back to Olive. Time must have stopped inside that cabin, because a new day has dawned. We should be tired, but we are energized and excited to get to the Golden Faire before it is too late. The journey goes on. Yet somehow I think the flight of fancy has not even begun. Onward we go. --The Golden Faire-- "Excuse me. Do you know the way to the Golden Faire?" I ask. Three cows with brown spots and big expressive eyes look at us and shake their heads no. "This doesn't seem to be working. Nobody seems to know where the Golden Faire is held. It's like it doesn't exist, and yet everyone says it is the social event of the year!" My Lamassu said. She shakes her head and curls into a Goliath-sized ball for a moment. "I need a moment to think. We are missing something for certain. Why would we be issued a token as an invitation to go to the Golden Faire if they didn't want us to find it?" Olive just shrugs and looks at her watch. "I'm tired and frustrated too, Lamassu. I am going to sit at this table and think it through as well." I say. The table is an outdoor lounge type, white in color, with a colorful spread umbrella. On the table is an empty cup. A silver spoon stained with the remains of a dark beverage lies next to it. "Whoever was sitting here, left their cup behind...now, how to find the Golden Faire, when nobody knows where it is...think!!!" "You don't find the Golden Faire, it finds you." "Who said that?" I ask. "I did. I was trying to rest, but since you decided to sit here and fill me with your life story I couldn't help but interject". The voice was coming from the silver spoon who was now sitting in an upright position. "You wouldn't happen to have a handkerchief? The last person who grabbed me stained me and I am having difficulty seeing straight through this tea stain." I hand the spoon a small kerchief which it rubs all over, groaning in pleasure, until it is shiny and its large eyes can focus. "ahh, that's better." "What do you mean the Golden Faire finds you?" "Please forgive me, but I must assume you know nothing, or very little at least. If you are supposed to be at the Golden Faire, you will be there. There is no sense in getting frustrated or anxious over things beyond your control." "But how will we find it? Nobody seems to know?" "How did you find me?" "Well that was easy, you were lying on the table I decided to rest at." "Then we do have one thing in common, we were both trying to rest! Listen, I don't give advice to just anyone who decides to unload their problems on me, but you seem like a nice girl, so here goes...Life isn't complicated. You have goals. You work to achieve those goals, sometimes things get in your way and you get spun around and whacked against a tea cup, or covered in honey only to get thrust into someone's mouth, but you keep going. I don't believe in fate. Achieving a goal is hard. Some are unattainable given your current circumstances, but sooner or later you reach your goal. Explaining how you got there is harder than actually doing it. So don't be glum, continue on your path with clear eyes and strong purpose and before you know it you are there." "Thank you so much...um, spoon. I think we better get moving. We are losing precious time." "Call me Archie. Short for Archibald Von Pollepel III. Moments are never lost. They are the key to finding anything you are looking for. May I ask a favor?" "You have been a great help to us, if I can help you I will!" "Take me with you to the Golden Faire!" "Why of course...assuming they will let you in." "If I am your guest, they will allow it!" "Why do you want to go to the Golden Faire?" "Going to the Golden Faire has always been my life's ambition. Every time I thought I was close to my goal, somebody grabbed me to mix a cocktail, or bent me to illustrate a sleight of hand trick, or tossed me in a bucket with a bunch of nasty forks and knives." "I shall carry you in my purse. If we are to find the Golden Faire, we will do it together!" "Thank you so much...hey is that a Frandrake purse?" "You know Frandrake?" "Nobody knows Frandrake! He's a recluse. Only a few have ever seen him, but his fashion statements are legendary. There is an entire museum devoted entirely to his pajamas near the city center. Is he really a Centaur?" "Who told you that? He's not a Centaur, he's sort of a...well he's kind of a lizard with tiny wings." "Now you are just pulling on my handle." "Frandrake is one of a kind!" "That I do believe." We continued on our way, just me, my Lamassu, Olive, Archie and a small entourage of blue humming orbs of light. We passed others along the way, none of whom had any knowledge about where the Golden Faire was. Following a maze of paths through tunnels and busy city blocks we come to one of many dead ends. Some paths end at wooded glens, somewhere a building was created right in the middle of the path, others ended at small rivers of purple water. This one ended at a heaping pile of moon rubble and large boulders piled thirty feet high. "Shall we turn back?" I ask. "Show me your token if you wish to enter the Golden Faire." The voice is coming from a set of two tall but thin stone figures that blend in perfectly with the pile of rubble. Their voices bellow forth deeply in perfect unison. I show them my token. "You may enter the Golden Faire at this moment if you so desire. If you do not wish to enter the Golden Faire at this time, you must surrender your token and wait for a new invitation." they say. "We choose to enter the Golden Faire." I say. The wall of rubble becomes translucent, fading, until a grand hall is visible beyond. No great party is discernable. A solitary throne of clear crystal quartz rests on a dais in the rear of the chamber. Wordless, we enter. The token and our exit disappear. On closer inspection the walls of the room are lined with books, artwork, musical instruments, mythical figurines, and enough ephemera to make Fandrake jealous. I find myself whispering. "What is this place?" My whisper bounces off the wall like thunder, echoing and reverberating in an avalanche of inquisitive fury. As the ringing in my ears lessens, I become aware of a second, much more melodious response. "This is the Reflection Room. It houses the Throne of Silence. The hall is a repository for every creative moment ever conceived. The walls house the most recent ideas, but with a thought, you can search for anything imagined, categorized in a manner easiest for each user to utilize. The Throne of Silence augments your creativity and helps you form original ideas. Before you can enter the Golden Faire it is hoped you will use the throne. There are no guarantees you will achieve something great today, but everyone who has tried the throne learns something." "Flying Man! I missed you! Where have you been? Why are you here?" I say. "Yes I am. I missed you too. I've been right here, waiting for you. Will you give the throne a try?" "Oh I don't know. I'm just a girl and I don't really know that much, just ask my friend Archie, he will confirm it." "Figure of speech…" says Archie. "You don't know much? You heard me when none of the others could. You followed me into the blue. Who else has done this? You flew into a mountain, discovered your Lamassu and then found your way out. You walked to the moon and returned from the land in between after leaving the only path to Cinereo. I know of no other beings having done all these things. I think you are eminently qualified to take a seat on the Throne of Silence." says the Flying Man. "Okay, I will try." I walk to the dais and sit on the throne feeling silly and far too small for the task. At once swirling ideas form in my mind. As I watch the ideas I am familiar with unfold around me, my mind relaxes and I begin to dream of things half thought. I picture imaginary friends from childhood I was forbidden to talk to. I remember the first boy at school I thought was nice. My thoughts drift to my favorite novel...the one that taught me the meaning of the word "why". Sounds, colors, tastes mix together and I begin to form an image in my mind, one which I have never shared. I have ideas which I have never fully dreamed of out of fear. What if the world...the one I know, what if everything I know, everything I have been taught to believe is not real? Why does the reality I learned from my parents hold meaning? What if I am free to decide what is real. I could let go of procedure, and home work, and career choices and just live. What if we talked in dreams instead of words? I drift further into my thoughts. Is this what insanity feels like? Why am I different? There is no reward for this kind of thought. I can't do this. I must go home and see my mom. Abrupt, I break free of my inner thoughts and let out a gasp, which echoes in maddening anguish through the chamber. My friends, the Flying Man, My Lamassu, Olive and Archie are all looking down at my slumped form attempting to offer comfort and solace. A few blue lights blink in and out in sympathy. "I've never seen that happen before." said Olive. "No, neither have I." said the Flying Man. "What just happened?" I ask. "Sometimes latent thoughts you would develop as you mature move to the present. I can't tell you what it all means but the Throne is always a gift." said the Flying Man. "What happens now?" "Open the door to the Golden Faire. If you can see the door and it opens for you, then the Golden Faire has accepted you." "You make it sound like the Golden Faire is alive." "Well of course it is. The Golden Faire is our way of honoring the Old Man. It lives so that he may live. He lives so we may live. The Golden Faire is the source of our inspiration, but much more. Come, you will see for yourself." With the help of my friends, I get to my feet. Beyond the Throne of Silence a prismatic door of swirling colors has appeared. Our feet leave the ground. We glide gracefully toward the swirling, rainbow portal. As one, we are enveloped in the colors of life, stretched to unimaginable lengths, then we compressed back to our normal countenances. After long moments I become aware that I was aware of nothing and everything for an unknown period of time. I see Olive looking studiously at her pocket watch. "We have arrived." she said. A cloud of saffron mist seems to bow before me. "Welcome to the Golden Faire. Thank you for attending. I do hope you enjoy yourself. If you should need anything, just think of it and your every desire shall be yours." Speechless, I faint. --The Golden Faire and What Transpired There-- "Was it something I said?" The saffron mist undulates closer to the girl. "Too much green cheese." said Olive. The mist sniffs the girl head to toe. "Did you warn her of the consequences to the enormous human brain when too much green cheese is inhaled? They don't use most of that brain, and once all those brain cells are awakened by the green cheese...well, who knows what might happen!" The saffron mist backs away. "You just startled me is all. What's all this talk about green cheese?" I ask. "Some call it magic. Perhaps it is more of an opiate. Others call it inspiration. Where you come from it no longer exists, except in hidden places, where it is either guarded or lost. On the moon it is our atmosphere. It recycles every Golden Faire." said the Flying Man. Olive looks at her watch and approaches me. "It has been an honor to guide you but there are others who need my skills. If you need my services in the future, just call for me. I will be there in time." After a brief embrace and a wink of the eye, Olive retreats into the party and is gone. "There are some things I need to attend. You are our guests. As the mist stated, anything you need will be yours. Mingle, laugh, dance, sing and enjoy the Golden Faire. I will be back before it is over to discuss a very important event with you. No...no, not now. I will speak with you again soon." With that, the Flying Man leaped into the air and flew out of sight. "Well I guess we should mingle. I am not really a fan of big crowds. Let's find a less busy nook where we can sit down for a moment and just watch for a bit." I said. "There's a table in the back with a large niche near a window where I can stretch myself out and enjoy the festival." said my Lamassu. We make our way to the table. Everything is decked in gold, bronze and silver. Uncountable jewels are sprinkled in the chandeliers. The music seems to evolve to the mood of the guests, once lively, then soft, then sensual. My Lamassu's nostrils flare. The scent of baked delights has charmed her senses. I realize I am famished. We grab a few things to eat on our way to the table and collapse in a lump. "It has indeed been a very long day!" "All the amazing food you could have and you choose a plateful of cookies?" I say. "I like cookies! I want to compare them to my own creations!" said my Lamassu. While I sink into the velvet cushions I am entranced by dancers in elaborate dress, with beautiful masks using floor, ceiling and airy places in between as they bow and sway in elegant embraces. Elsewhere creatures of every shape, color and size compete in contests of skill and cunning. I laugh as a pink elephant with six legs balances on an egg and throws darts with his trunk at a bundle of balloons that move out of the way just in time. The dart strikes a cake which deflates with a loud flatulent burst. The air is charged with a power beyond anything I have ever felt. I feel anything is possible. As I watch I notice creatures from storybooks are quite common, but what draws my attention are the numerous beings that seem half-finished, as if a mad artist started out on a masterpiece of absurdity only to wander off before complete. "They arrre called figments." I look over my shoulder to the sound of the purring voice. A piece of cookie my Lamassu was gorging herself on falls onto my plate. The plate wipes itself off and walks over to sit next to Archie who is watching the Faire from the edge of the table. An ordinary black house cat is resting on the half of the cookie still held by my Lamassu. The cat is rubbing an herb all over his face and snorting heavily. "Did you want some of my catnip? It helps to take the edge off afterrr a long day of prrrowling." "No, that is quite alright. There are plenty of other delights to try here." "Arrre you suurrre? Catnip will help you unrrrravel the univerrrse. If you snorrrt it, you will have a puurrfect underrrstanding of everrrything". "What did you mean about the figments?" "Figments arrre crrreatuuurrres from the imagination of small childrrren, madmen, and philosopherrrs. Beforrre figments became matuuurrrre mythological crrreaturrres orrr beloved favorrrites frrrom grrreat novels, they werrre left unfinished." "That sounds so sad. I wish I could help them." The cat slinks down the arm of the Lamassu and pours itself into a bowl that should be far too small to hold it, all the while rubbing the catnip all over itself. When the cat has settled into his new setting, he answers. "Most of the figments have adjusted well. They serrrve as butlerrrs, waiterrrs, and politicians. Do take carrre arrround the figments crrreated by madmen. They arrre unprrredictable and can be dangerrrous." "How do I know the difference between the well-adjusted and the dangerous figments?" "You can't." Shouts of amazement draw my attention away from the cat. A small crowd has gathered to watch as a creature promises to perform feats of fitness never witnessed before. I start to excuse myself when I hear the clattering sound of metal. I turn my head in time to see Archie, who had been watching the events unfold from the edge of the table, get launched twenty feet in the air; a cat paw the catalyst. "Aaaaaaaaaaah" Archie screamed. Lightening quick, my Lamassu catches Archie before he hits the ground and places him back on the table next to the plate who was talking to him. "Why did you do that?" The cat purrs while his tail switches to its own beat. "Sometimes I am so puuuerrrile! No puuurrrpose orrr malice I assuuurrre you. My apologies, sometimes the catnip goes strrraight to my head and everrrything seems so puuurrrfectly funny." "Its not funny to harm others...ever." The cat pulls off its tail and swats furiously at it. He jumps up and down on the detached tail for several moments. Finally he puts his tail back on, gives one indignant look back at us, snorts a little catnip and prances off without another word. "Thanks for looking out for me." said Archie. "Friends always look out for each other." I said. "Did that nasty cur harm you my spoonful of sugar?" asks the plate. "I'm fine, it would take more than a swat from a cat to twist my handle." Archie said. "Oh you are so tensile. Let me polish your metal. We could find a nice tablecloth to get lost in together." She said. "A talking plate... Well we really have seen everything now!" said my Lamassu. "I'm not a plate silly bird, I'm a hot dish and Archie is a sweet silver service spoon. Together we are a beautiful set." She said. The enormous crowd nearby distracts me and I try to pick Archie up to put in my purse so he can see all the action but he shakes his head in refusal. "Thanks young Miss. You have been a boon companion and helped me achieve my dreams of attending the Golden Faire and now my dreams are to elope with this attractive and scalding hot dish." said Archie. "I wish you happiness!" I said. We hug and then I head over to see what is exciting everyone. My Lamassu finishes the last cookie and follows. The crowd has gathered around a fiddle with enormous biceps. "Step right up folks, don't be shy. I will perform a feat of strength never before witnessed by the blind or even those with vision...infrared, x-ray or normal spectrum. As you can see this is an ordinary 50 ton barbell. I bet most of you think you can lift it. I wonder though, how many of you can lift it with your eyebrow? I will lie down on the marble floor and my lovely assistants will place the barbell on my face. Once they set the barbell on my face, I have about six seconds to lift the barbell with my eyebrow and toss it aside before the weight will crush my rare tropical wood exterior and I will never be able to play a jig again." The fiddle lies down on the floor. Two big purple gorillas grab an end of the barbell and position it over the face of the fiddle. He nods. They set the barbell on his face and immediately begin beating a drum in rapid fashion. The crowd moves in for a closer look. I move in too, eager to see how the fiddle performs this feat. Just as it appears the fiddle will fail and meet a sad end, a wave of golden energy flows over him from the room, his eyebrow bulges and with a flinch the barbell is launched at incredible speed right at me. There isn't time to duck. "It’s not possible!" "She must not be human!" "Abomination, that's what she is!" "We should throw her out of the Golden Faire!" "She should be banished from Cinereo to the in-between!" "Make her eat the cookies!" "Grab her!!!" My eyes flutter open to the sight of satyrs, unicorns and walking woks among myriad other indescribable creatures hovering over me. I am surrounded by a huge pool of sticky red liquid. My Lamassu roars in my defense which serves to back the crowds for the moment. I sit up, but feeling dizzy do not attempt to stand. "What happened?" I ask. "The barbell struck you and mushed your head into the marble floor and then a wave of golden light rushed over you." said my Lamassu. "But if that happened, I would be dead...not talking to you!" "Look around you. The evidence is right there. You were deader than a door nail just a minute ago! I was beside myself with tears!" A group of door nails look at us with indignant sneers. "We are not dead...or deader than anything. Don't smear our reputations! SHE is the dead girl!" The crowd rushes back in. Some are threatening to bring tar and feathers. Some want to fetch torches. A single blue orb silently streaks in from the crowd. As the crowd advances it grows in size and flutters bright red. The crowd stops; then advances again. Now two blue orbs hover near me. Three... Dozens and dozens of blue orbs form a shield around me. The room fills with an intense blaze of radiant golden light. "She is protected by the muses!" "I thought there were only nine of them?" "If the muses protect her, we must obey them." At that moment, the Flying Man returns to the room, landing in the middle of the protective circle. "ENOUGH! The girl is our guest. The muses protect her. She has activated the Throne of Silence and the Golden Faire has accepted her. We should be more civil!" "But she came back from the dead! Humans are not immortal!!" said a lone satyr. "We will take her to the Old Man. He will decide what shall become of our guest. The infusion of golden light is a sign that the Golden Faire will continue. I suggest you answer its call." said the Flying Man. With gentle hands, he lifts me to my feet. The dizziness has past, but I am still a bit vague on what has transpired. I find myself and my Lamassu lifted off the ground by thousands of tiny blue orbs. I sense they are not trying to harm us. As we pass, all the denizens of the Golden Faire bow low. As we leave, the Golden Faire returns to its previous frenzy. I know I was eager to meet the Old Man before I got to the Moon, but now that I am about to have an audience with him, I am nervous. What if he doesn't like me? What if he decides I should be punished? This isn't the dream I had imagined. Feeling resolute, I decide to go out fighting if necessary, even if all I have to aid me is my will and my friends, I will be strong. Whatever lies ahead, I will never forget the Golden Faire. -The Old Man-- The Muses whisk me into the throne room of the Old Man with the Flying Man and My Lamassu. The room is not what I expected. There are no guards. The throne room is a perfect circle with no signs of ostentatious decor. Light floods the room from many clear leaded crystal glass windows. A small desk with a few large tomes stacked on it rests on a plank board floor. The top tome is murmuring in an arcane language. A spinning lamp with crystal glass panes projects golden images in all directions. The images constantly shift; evolving and morphing into new images. The light from the lamp is alive and some of the images become solid, continuing past where they are reflected, floating on the air and out of the room to an adventure of their own device. Beyond the chair are two figures. One must be the Old Man; the other is hidden in shadows. The Old Man is seated in a simple mechanical chair with wheels. It moves without his hands touching the wheels in our direction. The Old Man is almost mummified in appearance, but he eyes are vibrant and clear. A silent phrase from him and the book stops talking. "Hahahahahaha! ooooh that was a wonderful show you put on!" he said. I look at the Flying Man wondering if I should speak. He is bowed in homage and looking straight ahead at the Old Man. "Why are you laughing? What show?" "That Fit Fiddle tries to be the star of every Golden Faire, but you stole his thunder and even got the Muses riled up! Tee hoo! Cherry-o! HAHA!" "I didn't mean to steal anything from anyone!" "That's what makes it so funny dear Miss! You don't mean to. You just do! Oh, it's been a very long time since we've had a human here...that is what you still call yourselves or am I mistaken?" "Yes, I am human. I'm a girl. I am also dreaming and should be waking up anytime now!" Out of the twenty-nine billion human beings, you are the only one who is awake! The rest are mindless automatons who wouldn't know a unicorn from a peppercorn! Oh no dear, you are not dreaming, you are a dreamer. You are a creator. You are one of only three beings I know that has a Chimera." "Lamassu sir, if you please. Chimera is so...rustic." said my Lamassu. "Rustic! Maligner! Libeler! Why I ought to transmute your smug lips into satyr sauce!" said Frandrake. "Frandrake! What are you doing here?" I said. The Old Man placed a gnarled hand over Frandrake's mouth. Butterflies escape Frandrake's nostrils in response, each a different color, all attracted to the lamp on the desk. "Frandrake is my Chimera. He is rather fond of the term. He invented it." said the Old Man. Frandrake calms down, almost seeming to melt into the arms of the Old Man. He gives my Lamassu an indignant glare and then closes his eyes fast asleep. "You said there were three Chimeras. If Frandrake and my Lamassu are two such creatures, where is the third?" I ask. "Oh he's been among you the entire time. You've been listening to him, but you can't see him. You see, the Flying Man is mute. He was born with incredible dreams, but no voice for them. That beautiful, wonderful voice you've heard belongs to his Chimera. It is by far the largest Chimera ever known, entirely blue, filling up the sky between your world and ours. He sings the thoughts of the Flying Man, and the Flying Man loves him as he has loved no other...until now." said the Old Man. "I had...no idea. What? Until now...what do you mean? Is the Flying Man alright?" "Oh he's better than alright, he is in love." "In love? Well that's great! Whom...?" "Anything is possible just think it and it's true Make your dreams reality sure as the sky is blue Reach for the stars as is your fate Find what's in your heart your time is not too late..." The Flying Man sang. "I did not know my dreams would take me to the stars I did not know I'd go so far I found answers to questions deep inside I found a heart given from a man who flied Singing, Dancing, Dreaming Now I am whole For the very first time." I sang. Our hands reach to each other, entwined like branches from the tree of life. I smile and blush deep red. The Muses glow bright blue as we touch. I will not attempt the words to describe how I feel at the moment. Symbol-based communication can never hope to be up to the task of thought. I suspect the Flying Man's Chimera could explain, but he is silent. "Hmmm! Haha! Now that business is settled, we should discuss your dire circumstances here in Cinereo." said the Old Man. "Am I to be punished?" I asked. "HAHAHAHAH! Perspective is a great deceiver...or aid...depending on how you see things! HAHAHAHA! A leadership role can be a pleasure or a burden. I wish to discuss your ascent to the throne here." "What? I can't lead. I'm nobody. I'm just a girl who has learned that dreaming is wonderful!" "You can lead. Many in roles of leadership are not leaders. Sometimes you must learn to follow if you are to lead. Learn, teach, respect, listen...these are not difficult skills for a person with imagination!" "Your subjects want to banish me at best. Why would they follow me?" "They will follow you because I am dying and I say you should be the Queen!" "Make the Flying Man your King. I should be going home to my mom...what...you are dying?" "Oh he shall be King and you shall be Queen. Yes, dear girl I am kaput...a goner. I have witnessed the rise of mankind. Every dream, every creation, has made us stronger in Cinereo. Mankind has done wonderful things. He created gods, ghosts, dreams, science, magic, music, spoons and unicorns. Some of these ideas are so great they took on lives of their own. I age very slowly, but nothing lasts forever. Even dreams fade. My time is linked to the imagination of mankind. Once you take my place I intend to take a well-deserved dirt-nap. I will dream of things no longer remembered and I will feel the wonder as when the first fire was started using flint and steel. Do not pity me. My body will vanish but my thoughts will endure. It’s nothing I can change." "I can fix things! I can help you before it is too late! I can go back. I can make them listen. I will start small. One child...Then another. They can change. They can remember how to dream and hope and sing." "I have no doubt you can do these things girl! If anyone has the power to do so it is you. Hehe! They won't listen. They have rules. They have grand purpose! They have no time for Chimeras!" "So there is time to save them!" "From themselves? HAHA! Doubtful! But you might. I am fading fast. This last Golden Faire was more like a county fair from your home. Converting the green cheese to golden light to power these galas drains my soul. Without the dreams of mankind to fuel me I have only my own will to aid me...and of course Frandrake." "Frandrake! What will happen to him if you pass on?" "Frandrake? He may linger a few days to make sure his museum is cared for, but he will fade too. Chimeras and their dreamers are linked by energy and thought. The old fop would not get on without me." "Frandrake would do marvelous, as he has always done. This Old Man is lucky I feel ashamed of his poor fashion sense or I am sure I would have found a more palatial setting, befitting a brilliant master artisan such as myself long ago!" said Frandrake. A single golden tear betrays Frandrake's bold statement. Then something happened. It was more of a reaction than a thought. Somewhere deep inside an emotion boils to the surface, although I've only just met the Old Man. Just as I knew inside how the Flying Man loves me and I love him, just as I know mankind can be redeemed, I know I could do something for the Old Man. I grab the Old Man without warning. Our eyes lock. On instinct, my Lamassu grabs me to pull me away but I am too strong. She is now locked in gaze with the Old Man as well. The lamp on the table spins like maple seeds in a hurricane. The Muses surround us silhouetting our forms in brilliant blue auras. Light, energy, dreams; flow through me and through the Old Man and back again. Lightning crackles; then shatters the windows. The boom from the thunder drowns out the merriment of the Golden Faire. I sink to my knees exhausted. "What...what have you done? Why?" The Old Man asks. When my legs are strong enough to stand I rise. "You did not want to die. So I won't allow it. I shared my silliest childhood dreams and you have shared your wisdom and knowledge with me. We have both gained." The Old Man stands up from his wheeled contraption and looks at his long black hair, stroking it with his youthful, strong hands in wonder. "At what cost to you dear girl, at what cost?" "Oh it’s nothing!" I said. "Wow, you are a beautiful woman. You are...half-naked!!! Your clothes are far too small now." said my Lamassu. "What...what have you done? Why? My dress! My perfection! Rude as a rutabaga! This won't do!" said Frandrake. Before anyone could move, Frandrake pulls bolts of shiny fabric, spools of thread and the tools of a tailor out of thin air and begins weaving around me. "I feel like a bug being wrapped up by a spider!" I said. "Tush girl! Your fidgeting endangers a work of exquisite perfection!" Frandrake said. In moments I am decked like the Queen of Geishas heading to the ball for martinis. Frandrake has also fashioned a crown and scepter for me and the Flying Man. "I don't understand...why did you make us crowns Frandrake? The Old Man will remain King of Cinereo!" I said. "You two are now Duke and Duchess of Dreams...Viziers of Visualization…Count and Countess of Creativity. With my color palette and your good judgment the Golden Faire will be the event to dwarf all others...much like my presence awes and humbles those who should catch a glimpse of my magnitude!" said Frandrake. We can hear the sound of the Golden Faire denizens entering the room, but with the wave of a hand, the Old Man reassures them. Then, a flash of his eyes, and a burst of Golden light permeate the Faire like a wave filling it with sound, smells and a flourish of merriment. One by one the Muses fade from the room until only three remain. They enter our mouths, the Old Man, the Flying Man and me and settle in behind our eyes, a blue glimmer visible when we smile. "What will you do now girl? Are you really going back to Earth?" asked the Old Man. "I'm going back there now. Oh, not forever. I need to plant the seeds. Someone needs to help them remember who they are. We are the dreamers, the singers, the dancers and doers. We speak in rhyme when it is time. We laugh and play, we do it all day. Magic is not a word. Magic is a world. I must have fun, for the when I am done, the Flying Man will take me straight to the Sun. We'll dance on a flare of solar-y air, we'll sing of the work that he's done. So I must go, So I must run, my feet finally touching the ground. But though they touchdown, I won't have a frown, because I remember the Faire! Oooh, I walked to the Moon without a balloon I walked to the Golden Faire The breeze in the trees is made of green cheese And they have a fine time there Once to the Moon, Once to the Faire Once to see the Old Man When I return, if I return I'll never look stern Or the Old Man will follow me home I'll sing of the breeze I'll sing of the trees I'll sing of the Golden Faire The town folk will say My mind's gone astray But the Old Man knows the truth The Old Man knows the truth Once to the Moon You sing like a loon You sing of the Golden Faire ---Touchdown--- Kara motioned for her kin to stop. To her keen senses the whole valley stank with the stench of pukje. For the last few hours she had been closing the gap.
"At least six, maybe ten. Beyond those trees, see the smoke?" asked Kara. "What smoke?" asked Olaf. Kara Grabbed Olaf's head and forcefully pulled it in the direction she wanted. "There!!!" she said. Soon the whole group of Norgardians could see the outline of five or six small buildings lined by pine trees. In the center of the camp a smoldering fire made it obvious the camp was inhabited. "An ambush?" asked Sigurd. "Of course!" said Aesa. "Indeed, those stupid pujke have fallen right into our trap!" said Magnus. His kin knew well enough that they only had moments to formulate a plan before Magnus would lose control and attack. "Olaf, you set up on that ridge and fire arrows at any pukje that try to escape. Isgerd and I will approach from the east and attempt to flank them. Aesa you blend in better than the rest of us, see if you can get onto one of those roof tops and surprise them. Magnus and Kara...Magnus and Kara..."said Sigurd Magnus and Kara were rumbling full speed down the valley trail screaming blood oaths and chewing on their shields. Aesa patted Sigurd on the arm. "Nice plan Sigurd. We will do our best to follow it." said Aesa. The rest of the Norgardians rushed to get into positions as described by Sigurd. A lone pukje stood at the entrance to the camp with his arms held out to the sides in a non-threatening gesture. A little over four foot tall, he was hideous, with orange skin and muddy eyes. "Hviltnig borka vin soogna." it said. Its eyes widened as its head struck the snow. There would be no parley. Magnus smiled at his work and pointed at more pukje. Kara nodded and the two of them headed toward a band of four pukje. When they were a spear's throw away, Magnus approached them his arms out to the sides. "Hroth bika vin snooga." he said. The pukje cackled. "You surrender? Okay den, drop yer sword. Dah girl too." it said. Kara threw her spear with all her might. Rage strengthened her throw. The pukje who spoke was impaled against a tree. Two of the remaining pukje fired arrows at Magnus. He blocked them with his shield and moved forward. The third pukje chanted. Magnus felt like his legs had gotten very heavy. He shook with rage but could not move forward. Two pulses of orange energy struck Kara square in the shoulder and her shield fell into the snow. Both Kara and Magnus were stuck with arrows coming from a nearby building. Aesa jumped off of the roof of a hut onto the chanting pukje. She struck him in the groin with her cudgel. The other two pukje followed her. Aesa was fast...too fast for those stupid ole pukje. She led them on a chase, staying just close enough so they thought they could catch her. She noticed that two of the huts were very close to the fire. Circling around, the pukje lost track of her. She ducked inside one of the huts. "Hmm what's this?" she said. She had noticed a small vat of cooking grease. Ignoring the distraction, she fired a hand crossbow with a thin line of wire attached to the bolt between the two huts at ankle's height. Testing the line, she secured it in place. Aesa then stepped out of the hut and waved at the pukje. "Hey boys, miss me?" said Aesa. With puzzled looks the pukje renewed their pursuit as fast as they could run. Aesa sidestepped the tripwire just as the pukje were about to catch her. They both flew into the fire. Reaching down she grabbed the pot of grease and tossed it onto the fire. The flames roared, partially drowning out the pukje screams. Magnus looked at Kara. She could not move either. The pukje who had been chanting was regaining his footing. He looked at Magnus and Kara like a hungry man looks at a free meal. Magnus was very angry. His hand shook and his face was red. He heard a voice. It was Olaf. He was too far away to get a good shot at the pukje but he was singing something. "Kara and Magnus hear me say, We smite pukje night and day, The spell that trapped you is no more Your might in battle is the stuff of lore" The pukje sorcerer's expression changed from glee to fear as he realized Magnus and Kara were free of his enchantment. He paid for his mistake and was returned to Hel, his mortal form painting the snow with his black blood. Magnus and Kara could hear shouting at the edge of the camp. They ran toward the commotion at once. On the edge of the camp Olaf was in single combat with a fat pukje. The main battle took place near a hut in the opposite direction from where Olaf was battling. Sigurd and Isgerd were in a pitched battle against ten pukje and a few Norsemen. Magnus recognized one short man with a long beard. It was Wulfgar the Troll. He had almost been outlawed last summer for setting fire to one of the wharves in Norgard. Before they could arrive to help Sigurd and Isgerd, Aesa jumped off the roof of the hut and launched herself at Wulfgar. A pukje wearing a turban pointed a wand at her. A beam of bright light struck her and she fell flat on her face in front of Wulfgar. He struck her with the pummel of his sword on the back of the head and knocked her unconscious. Enraged, Magnus and Kara tore into the group. Two pukje chanted and then pointed their fingers at the pair. Magnus and Kara were struck with flames that came from the hands of the two Pukje. Both managed to block the seid magic with their shields. Sigurd was wounded in several places but continued battling. Isgerd looked exhausted. Magnus bull-rushed the pukje line of attack and tackled four of them. He pummeled one pukje senseless with his helmet, headbutting the monster until it no longer breathed. The tackled pukje bit Magnus. Kara took advantage of Magnus' tactic and fell upon the Norse fighters. Wulfgar backed away from the onrush. This gave Sigurd time to fell another pukje. The pukje sorcerers chanted. Orange pulses of seid magic stuck Magnus. He rose from the pile of dead pukje and gave a fierce look to the spell-casters, froth rolling down his beard. The pukje could stomach no more of the battle and turned to run. Aesa awakened in time to kill one of the pukje sorcerers with a quick toss of a dagger. Sigurd killed one of the Norsemen with Isgerd's help. Wulfgar had donned skis and was escaping. "Trolls never did have the stomach to fight." said Magnus. "You will not survive to call me a troll again." said Wulfgar. Isgerd pointed at Wulfgar while praying to Odin for assistance. Wulfgar's clothes and pack fell to the ground. He did not stop to retrieve them. "He will not survive the night in this cold." said Isgerd. "If he does, we will bring him before the lawrock and have him outlawed for brigandry." said Sigurd. Aesa went over and retrieved Wulfgar's belongings. The rest of the band turned at the sound of a fierce combat raging. Olaf and the fat Pukje were locked in battle as if Thor and the Midgard serpent. Both of them look completely winded and had suffered a series of minor wounds. Kara threw her spear ending the epic battle. There would be no glory for Olaf today. "Thanks...Kara...I had it...under control." said Olaf. "Kin look out for each other." she said. "This was no minor raid. Pukje can't stand each other enough to form large groups." said Sigurd. "I did not know they were sorcerers." said Magnus. "Who is injured?" asked Isgerd. "I am." said Olaf. "Who has bleeding wounds?" asked Isgerd. She was staring at Magnus and Kara for they were covered head to toe in a series of serious wounds. "It is nothing. Tend to Olaf." said Magnus. "I will tend to each of you." said Isgerd. She pulled out her medicine bag and began dressing wounds and applying bandages to the worst of the wounds on each of her kin. While the others were distracted, Aesa rummaged through the pack. She discovered some red-gold coins, a few silver bracelets, a few semi-precious gemstones, a familiar looking dagger, and a scroll-case. Aesa pocketed the gemstones and pulled out the scroll-case. She shouldered the pack and clothing and headed back to a hut to see what was inside the scroll-case. When she found a seat in a hut, she rolled out the scroll and gasped. It was the map that was missing! There was also a note. It was written in Thorsen runes. She read it. Wulfgar, Do not get tripped by your incompetence. Much depends on you getting this map out of Norgard. The key to Thor's tomb must be found and destroyed. A hunting party will follow the pukje from Norgard to get revenge for Thrain's death. They are untested in battle. When the pukje have weakened them, finish them off. Take Smid's dagger and bury it in the leader of the group. Make it obvious that Smid the Swimmer was involved. Get the map to me! Do not attempt to find the key yourself! Your reward will be handsome. You may have the women, but kill them when you tire of them. I do NOT want any witnesses. There was no signet ring or leader's mark to indicate who wrote the letter. Aesa began to give the hut a careful inspection when her kin arrived. "We had feared you might have been slain." said Sigurd. "What are you doing?" asked Magnus. "I am going through Wulfgar's belongings." She dumped his coins and silver bracelets on the table for all to see. "To be distributed equally!" said Aesa. "What are you reading?" asked Olaf. Aesa showed them the note and the map. "Smid could still be involved in this!" said Magnus. "I know." said Aesa. "Who else is involved?" asked Sigurd "That is what we need to find out." said Aesa. "What now?" asked Kara. "I've been studying this hut and some of the others. Pukje did not design these. Wulfgar could not have been here very long. He was seen in Norgard just before the Aegir ceremony. This place was inhabited by outlaws. From the looks of it a few men and women lived here. One of them may have been a witch." said Aesa "A witch!? How do you know that?" asked Magnus. "See these bags? They are filled with expensive sands, insects, fine filaments, herbs. They are for making potions. The witch probably made money selling love potions to the ignorant farmers and fishermen of Norgard." said Aesa. "If there were witches here, they were probably killed and eaten by these loathsome pukje." said Olaf. "Good!" said Magnus. "Use that big skull of yours for something other than a battering ram Magnus! Do you know any witches?" asked Aesa. "...Yes...my cousin Hildagunn was outlawed for practicing witchcraft in the Fall." said Magnus. "She was helping a woman with childbirth. The child was born with a beard. That does not make her a witch!" said Isgerd. "You were present at the sentencing Isgerd." said Magnus. "Sometimes the law is unfair. It favors the men." said Isgerd. A sharp look from Isgerd told Magnus to remain silent. He decided to go outside and watch for any more pujke that might wander into camp. "We can't go back to Norgard! Not yet. We haven't recovered Thrain's goods. It is clear from the tracks that a much larger group of pukje headed from this camp a few days ago into the hills. Studying the map leads me to believe they are using the place where the key is safeguarded as a base. If they found the key, we will lose glory and all of the Norse may be in danger." said Aesa. "Shouldn't we try to find out who set up this trap?" asked Sigurd. "I do not believe whoever sent Wulfgar out here controls all the pukje. Pukje are lawless. They do what serves their current needs. You can train them like wolves, but if a squirrel crosses their path, they will forget what they were expected to do and follow their instincts." said Aesa. "It is settled then. We must find the key. I think it is wise to rest up and leave in the morning. " said Sigurd. "Agreed!" said the others. "Who is hungry? I brought bacon!" said Olaf. "Did you bring mead?" asked Aesa. "Of course!" said Olaf. The kin dragged the pukje into the woods; breakfast for ravens. The outlaws were burned on the camp fire. When dinner was served the fire was extinguished. There was no desire to attract the many dangers of the night with an obvious beacon. Watches were set to protect the others who slept. When day broke the camp was abandoned and the Norgardians skied toward the hills, following the pukje tracks. After a few hours, the tracks were lost in snow drifts. Relying on the map, they continued into the hills. Aesa guided her kin the rest of the way using the map. The woods cleared in front of an ice covered pond at the base of a large hill. "This has to be it!" said Aesa. "What does?" asked Kara. "This has to be where the key is kept!" said Aesa The group surveyed the horizon. There were no signs of smoke or steam. There were no sign of tracks. There were no signs of caves. "Perhaps the key is meant to be lost." said Olaf. "No! Let me think! I will find the key. It is fated." said Aesa. The others looked less convinced as the snow started to intensify and winds made it hard to see. An arrow flew straight at Aesa's head. She deflected it with a careful turn of her sword as the denizens of the meadhall roared in laughter. The meadhall was named Ulfgard by Thrain's grandfather Thorstein. Thorstein rallied the villagers of Norgard to thwart an attack of a vicious Hrutiwulf named Froki. The Norgardians made Thorstein Jarl and helped him erect this hall.
As Aesa remembered the details of the founding of the hall, she noted a skald was busy retelling the origin of the Hrutiwulf while playing a cither. The skald's name was Hagal of Hekja and he was the best at historical poems. Aesa dragged Magnus to a bench and motioned for a thrall to bring them drinks. When the thrall came back with tankards of mead, she motioned to Magnus to pay. Magnus flipped the thrall some red-gold coins to cover the tab. The crowd became silent as Hagal weaved his tale. Mischief-maker, Asgard-ruin Seeker of giantess-bosom I speak of his bairn, his children the Lokispawn. We ken his first born, Fenris wolf, Jormungand and Hel but Loki is always seeking mistresses These he bore himself, mother of his own sons His lesser children bring no glory to him Byornskordur bone-breaker, thrall of Vislakopper Vislakopper Loki-cunning, ruler of Welkins Hrutiwulf, Frost-breather, speaker of lies All practice seid, dark-magic, breaker of men Lokispawn are one of the three Bringers of Ragnarok Pukje and Trolls also feast for Midgard's fall Their tale to be told after Thrain's speech. "Ah, Thrain will soon announce the prize. I hope he has no more daughters or Sigurd may flee." said Magnus. "Magnus! Do not dishonor Thrain. His daughter Sif has already produced two sons for Soti, winner of the last Aegir." said Aesa. "Let us make a sacrifice to Frigga that his children look like him if they live." said Magnus. Before Aesa could retort, Thrain and Gunnar Bluetooth entered the main hall from the Jarl's chamber with prizes. The crowd hushed again. "Aegir was pleased with our ceremony today. Fine youths have been hammered by her waves into men and women. For each of you who survived the challenge I give a silver bracelet and a bag of red gold. You will also be granted an oar on my longship during the Spring raids of the Welkin lands." Said Thrain. A great cheer rose from the crowd followed by the swilling of much mead. Chants of Thrain's name echoed through Ulfgard. Thrain was hard pressed to gain control of the group again, but eventually they focused on the prize he held aloft. "I hold in my arms a fine noble's cloak dyed with a rare blue pigment and woven with gold thread. I won it in battle from Sigmund of Freydane who lost his spear in my thigh. Sigurd Grim's son, Aegir's favorite, I am not a speaker of fine words. Let me give you this cloak for your deeds today and also Egilstad, a farm near the coast. It is attended by four thralls who will do as you ask of them." said Thrain. Sigurd approached Thrain, head bowed, but with a refined gait. He accepted Thrain's prizes with grace. "Jarl Thrain, You have lead us with wisdom during the Troll Wars. With peace, you have increased our wergild with many fine raids on the Welkin lands. If my sword does not fail me, I hope to gain glory for you this summer." said Sigurd. "Well spoken, son of Grim. Let's not hold up the celebration any longer." said Gunnar Bluetooth. Singing, drinking and feasting began again with a new fervor. Scantily clad thralls, both men and women, from Welkin lands were led into the hall to bring warmth to the Norse revelers' beds. Most lay on the floors or benches as proper furniture was seldom seen this far north. A whole hart roasted slow over the hearth fire. Slices were served to those with hunger. Many hours passed thus. Several ladies combed Olaf's fine red-gold locks as he sang lays of love to them. Olaf was sometimes called the peacock. It was thought that he sired his first son when only twelve. The girl's father had hoped to kill Olaf during a legal challenge, but Olaf was so fine a speaker the father agreed to foster the child as his own. Now that Olaf was a man, the most beautiful women were eager to court his favor. Aesa was bored. Magnus was also busy entertaining some lass from Trodheim. Their grunting was getting on Aesa's nerves. She decided to head outside for some fresh air. She began twirling the dagger Magnus gave her up in the air to relieve the boredom. "Hey tiny one. Why don't you pay Smid a visit. I can teach you what it means to be with a man." said Smid the Swimmer. Aesa walked over to Smid and thrust the dagger inches below his crotch. The dagger had him pinned against the meadhall wall unable to move without inflicting damage from the blade. "You have nothing of quality and even less of substance to offer me. Next time you feel like poking something with your little blade make sure your aim is true for my kinsman is a generous host and will make certain you do not leave without a fine gift." said Aesa. "I am not afraid of you Norgardian hicks. When I strike, you will all weep like babies." Said Smid. Aesa feigned a big yawn and walked away, leaving Smid pinned to the wall. When she got to the meadhall door she considered going back to insult Smid again but something kept nagging her to go outside. Shrugging, she walked into the snowy night. There were two sets of footprints in the snow heading toward the latrine. It was not unusual this time of night for those still sober enough to make their way outside. Aesa noted only one set of footprints went back inside. Curious, she bent down to get a better look at the tracks. Both belonged to men. Based on the snowfall an hour had passed since the tracks were made. The tracks did lead to the latrine. A man lie face down near the steps to the latrine. Perhaps he passed out. The second pair of tracks turned back from the man toward the meadhall. Why hadn't he aided the drunk man? When Aesa got closer she noted that the man had been stripped of his belongings and left to die. A series of smaller tracks led away from the man back toward the woods. Aesa's eyes grew wide. The smaller tracks were pukje. How she hated those hideous monsters! Though they looked somewhat like men all they knew was evil and destruction. Quickly she turned the man over. It was Thrain!! He was dead. A bluish foam lined his mouth and his nose had bled. Aesa smelled around Thrain's mouth. Why didn't the Pukje take the drinking horn? She smelled the wine inside his drinking horn as well. Poison! This was not some cheap herbal concoction given by a local witch, but a chemical poison that could only be purchased in a larger town at high cost. Aesa ran back to the Meadhall as fast as possible. In seconds she thrust the door open. "Thrain is dead! Thrain is dead!! Pukje are near! Fetch Gunnar Bluetooth, summon the able warriors." said Aesa. Gunnar was summoned from the Jarl's chamber. Those who were still sober enough to walk grabbed weapons and torches and headed outside. Gunnar motioned for some of the warriors to search the perimeter to make sure the pukje had left. When the warriors came back signaling all was clear, Gunnar shouted to the crowd, "Stand back so we can examine Thrain!" said Gunnar. Gunnar motioned for Aesa and two of his best trackers. "What do you think? Did Pukje kill Thrain?" Said Gunnar. "The tracks are already disturbed, but it appears that one man did this and then returned to Ulfgard. There are no signs of pukje weapons on his body and we all know he could have killed a hundred pukje in his sleep." said one of the trackers. "The pukje looted Thrain and returned to the woods. Perhaps a group can be summoned in the morning to pursue them." said the other tracker. "I swear an oath to retrieve Thrain's Jarl's cloak and return it to Ulfgard!" said Magnus Thorsen. Others also wished to join Magnus in the hunt. Soon a small number of young Norgardians were making plans for revenge and seeing to the necessary supplies. Aesa noticed that the blue foam had vanished from Thrain's mouth and she could detect no sign of it on him or in his drink. It was worse than she feared. Someone had hired an assassin skilled in seid magic. This was no random act. Someone wanted Thrain dead. "Well girl, you've been studying Thrain's corpse like it was going to get up and talk to you. What do you know." said Gunnar. "I'm am not giving him the evil-eye sir, I am just grief-struck to see him this way." said Aesa. "So are we all." We will have a magnificent funeral for him in the morning." said Gunnar. Thrain's flagship "Troll-Stomper" was loaded with goods. Gunnar made certain the ship was filled with food, drink, and much treasure and weapons. Thrain's body had been cleaned and dressed by Isgerd the Godi and her assistants in his finest clothing. His famed troll-spear Hrimdur rested in his arm. His shield had been freshly painted with the Thorsen family symbol the key to Thor's tomb, a small green orb, on the boss. Isgerd was busy preparing the thralls for sacrifice. "What is that symbol on Thrain's shield?" Sigurd asked. "As you know, we are descended from Thor. Magnus and Kara claim the closest kinship to him. As Jarl, it was Thrain's responsibility to pass on the map to the resting place for the key." Isgerd said. "Thor is a god, why would he have a tomb or a key?" Sigurd asked. "There are some things concerning the gods even a Godi does not understand." said Isgerd. "Once while visiting Uppsala I discovered a very old scroll in the library that spoke of a time before Midgard. There were older gods but a great evil plagued the land. Only a few powerful men held off the complete destruction of mankind. A powerful magic was unleashed and everything was altered. Midgard was born and with it our gods. I could read no more, the text was falling apart as I read." said Olaf. "That sounds like a skald tale worthy of you Olaf! I don't believe it. Neither do I believe in Alfar, Dverge or Semblings." Said Sigurd. "Legends are based on facts, Sigurd. Men are poor listeners. Often we forget what we knew. It is the role of the skald to insure we do not become ignorant barbarians!" said Olaf. Isgerd motioned to her kin to be quiet. She sounded the great horn. Soon all had gathered near the longship. "Thrain son of Sigmund son of Thorstein, bringer of Troll tears, terror to Welkins and Pukje, you gave many fine gifts to your clan. Today you rejoice for you are drinking mead with Odin and Thor. Today you prepare for Ragnarok for you are certain to be among the chosen warriors on that Norn-fated day. None can live one day more than the Norns allow. Your day has come. We offer sacrifices to your good health as your return among the chosen. May the gods be pleased." said Isgerd. Once more Isgerd sounded the great horn. One by one she made the blood sacrifices of the thralls. She nodded and Magnus and the other strong men pushed the longship into the water. She spoke a word and raised her hands to the sky. Soon a coal-black cloud formed over the ship as it made its journey to sea. A bolt of lightning stuck Thrain and the ship caught fire. As the ship was consumed Thrain's spirit was taken by the Valkyries to the halls of the god as the Norgardians cheered. "Now that Thrain is drinking mead with Thor, we must finish plans to kill the Pukje and rescue Thrain's cloak from their filthy hands. Who has volunteered for this task?" Said Sigurd. "Myself, you, Aesa, Kara, Olaf, and Isgerd." said Magnus. "Isgerd! Isn't she forbidden to go raiding? She is a Godi after all!" said Sigurd. "Will you tell her she can't go?" asked Magnus. "Of course she is welcome!" said Sigurd. "We who go are all kin. I prefer to keep it this way. I do not trust the other men. Where did Smid the Swimmer scurry off to?" Asked Magnus. "Smid? None have seen him since Aesa nearly castrated him last evening." said Olaf. "No doubt licking his wounds. This is good news. I don't like the way he looks at Aesa. I might have to break his other arm." Said Magnus. Aesa ran up to them as they approached the smokehouse for some supplies. "Our supplies are ready. We will use skis to travel. We also each have a set of skates if needed, some snowshoes, food, drink, pitons and rope, torches and a change of clothing. There should be enough arrows for hunting. Gunnar wanted to pass a message on quietly. He could not find the sacred map that gives instructions to find the key to Thor's tomb. I do not think this is an accident. I believe that Smid is somehow involved. I think he killed Thrain and stole the map. " said Aesa. "If what you say is true we should bring Smid up on charges at the lawrock this Spring. The council will no doubt find him guilty." said Sigurd. "Until we find more proof, we can not hope to find enough support for our claim. We are young and have not earned the respect of the elders." said Olaf. "If we cannot gain support at the lawrock, I will provide evidence with Smid's head." said Magnus. Isgerd overheard the tone of Magnus's voice and knew he was about to become enraged. She approached him quick and placed a hand on his arm. "Patience Magnus, the gods turn their backs on the ill-fated and Smid has no luck left to aid him. The Norns have shown me his fate and you will have your revenge. Today is not the day. We must remain focused on bringing honor to Thrain. Somewhere near those filthy Pujke are laughing at us. Don't you want to show them how well you throw the spear my kin?" said Isgerd. "You have a fine argument as usual Godi. Those Pukje will lament the day they decided to loot our Jarl." said Magnus. Gathering the last of the supplies the small band of kin headed northeast on skis toward the woods where the Pukje were last seen. Kara led the group as her keen vision and other senses were the best among them. Soon they found the trail and Norgard vanished in the distance behind them. For an instant, Isgerd thought she saw someone or something shiny peeking out from a large pine tree like a star in the night. She looked again and it was gone. Perhaps it was nothing. My friend Brian had this artwork commissioned for his character Aesa the Lucky. Aesa is one of the featured characters in the Norgard Saga. She's only 5'6', light frame but very agile. She looks like a child next to Magnus Thorsen who is over seven feet tall, powerfully built with long blond hair and beard.
He smeared blubber over his massive bare chest and smiled at those around him. "Today is a fine day for a swim." he said.
"By Hel's caress who is that?" said Thrain. Thrain was Jarl in Norgard. Norgard was the Northernmost village of Norsemen. "That is Magnus Thorsen, a berserk. His parents were killed by trolls. He lives in the woods outside of the village." said Gunnar Bluetooth, Thrain's Spear-brother. "Killed by trolls? He looks big enough to be a troll!" said Thrain. "I do not think he would continue smiling if he heard you say that!" Gunnar said. It was Aegir, the coming of age ceremony in honor of the sea-goddess of the same name. The festival takes place every two years on the first Thorsday in the month of Einmanudur. Young men and women aged thirteen to sixteen come great distances to take the challenge and become adults. Although still winter, a hint of warm air rises up from the sea. The challenge is simple. Leap from Norn's Drop about thirty feet above the sea's icy grip. Swim from there to the main dock in Norgard. Try not to die. The youths were not listening to Jarl Thrain or Gunnar Bluetooth. They were too busy preparing for the ceremony. As soon as the sacrifice to Aegir was over there would be a mad dash to leap off Norn's Drop. A nimble dark haired girl, almost to the height of Magnus' navel walks over to him. "Magnus, it should be no trouble for you to win this contest. Still, I would wager with you if you trust the Norns, that I will be the victor." She said. "HAHAHAHAHA! Aesa, though we are kin, if you try to challenge me for the glory, I will swallow you whole for your efforts." Said Magnus. "Do we have a wager?" Aesa asked. "I will be happy to take your silver. When I do, I will buy you a large tankard of mead so when you offer your tears to the Valkyries at least your throat will be soothed." Said Magnus. Aesa smiled. She had the big fool right where she wanted him as usual. Sometimes she wondered if she should feel sorry for him, but the thought fades as Magnus asks her a question. "Where's your bear fat or blubber?" he asked. "Silly berserk, do I look like I need it? Blubber disagrees with my complexion." She said. A tall man with blonde hair and fine clothes and a red haired man with a flute overheard Magnus and Aesa's banter. "She's reckless. The Norns will take her." said the blonde named Sigurd. "She's blessed by the Norns. She has taken our share of luck for herself. If you are wise you will not bet against her." said the red-hair Olaf Barrowgard. "Hel's spit on all of you Norgardians. Everyone here knows the winner is going to be Smid the Swimmer of Trodheim!" Said Smid. Before Magnus could pummel Smid into Lingonberry jam, a cow's horn blast let the group know the sacrifice to Aegir was beginning. Isgerd the Godi was Norgard's priest and lawmaker. There were few Godar left...fewer who could do more than slaughter a sheep or sign nuptials. Isgerd was a beauty with metallic red hair. She didn't speak often. When she did it was often so soft others had to strain to hear, but when she spoke with the authority of her office as the voice of the gods, even Thrain obeyed her. Isgerd's two assistants bore a miniature longship over their shoulders. Inside the ship was a seal draped in blue finery. The assistants set down the burden. Sensing something ill was about to happen, the seal became agitated, barking loud. Isgerd placed a hand on the seal and whispered in its ear, turning so the crowd could not see. "I am sorry my friend. I do not wish you harm. You must be willing to give your life or the ceremony will fail and Aegir will be angry. If you do this, you will be honored in the halls of your ancestors and you will rejoice as your every whim shall be attended. Will you do this?" Isgerd asked. The seal calmed and lay down in the boat. "Then sleep my friend." she said. Isgerd placed her hand on the seal in a manner to conceal her actions from the group. Her hand began to glow with blue light. The seal's eyes closed and it slept. Raising a dagger made of narwhal tusk, covered in runes, she faced the participants of the Aegir ceremony. "Aegir, we offer you a sacrifice. If it pleases you, may you accept it rather than the lives of our young." She plunged the dagger into the seal with an expert hand. The Godi poured some of the blood into a clam shell and approached each participant. "By the blood of Aegir's child may you find glory. In glory may the Norns aid you to shore. On shore may you come to Thrain's Meadhall...therein to bask in praise and gifts." When she finished she dabbed some blood on each participant's face. When all were attended with the prayer and anointing, the horn was sounded and the race began. Sigurd and Olaf were already near the precipice of Norn's drop and leaped into the water as soon as the horn blew. The rest rushed to do the same. Mord and Magnus reached the narrow point at the same moment. Mord smiled at Magnus and then punched him hard in the jaw. Magnus returned the smile. Mord would attempt to achieve manhood in two years, when he was known as Mord Flatnose. Magnus then made the leap into the sea. Several others would have challenged Magnus, but Aesa, swift as wind, crouched low, her leg ending several dreams, as participants piled like bones near a smokehouse. Laughing, Aesa walked over them like stones in a brook and dove into Aegir's bosom. When the rest of the youths who were able had entered the water, Isgerd followed, making sure no one had seen. Swift, she transformed into a sea hawk. Touching the sea with her talon, she screeched in glee. Olaf and Sif locked arms. They both disappeared beneath Aegir's blue fabric. Several moments later Sif swam away, not as fast as she had been. Olaf's form floated to the surface as a bleached corpse. Isgerd landed on his back. She placed a talon on his shoulder and spoke. "Valkyries, today is not Olaf's time to be taken. Stand back for he still lives." With that her talon glowed blue and Olaf sputtered and gasped for breath. Changing into a dolphin, Isgerd vanished beneath the waves before Olaf knew what happened. Others battled, some swam to avoid contact. Aesa vaulted from swimmer to swimmer, never touching the water. Aegir was not kind, hammering the youths with powerful waves. Riptides almost took the life of one man from Waymunding. The leaders in glory were Magnus, Aesa, Smid the Swimmer, Sigurd and Kara. Each could sense Thrain's prize would be their own. Magnus, Sigurd and Smid were very close. Smid thrust a dagger deep into Magnus's shoulder. Magnus bit through his lip in frustration. He grabbed Smid's wrist and crushed it in his grip. Smid howled in fear, losing all hope for glory. Desperate, Smid kicked free and waded to shore, far behind the others. Aesa had made the leap to Magnus's back when Smid had stabbed him. Distracted for only moments, the struggle allowed Sigurd and Kara to pull too far away for Aesa to make another leap without getting wet. With a wry smile she decided to pull the dagger from Magnus's back. "Here kinsman. You have earned this prize. I will sew your wound when you reach shore." Said Aesa. "I have no need for toothpicks. You are welcome to it. Smid was too cheap for either of us to make profit from his choice of arms." Said Magnus. They reached shore ahead of many, but on this day Sigurd was honored with the win. Everyone headed to the Meadhall. Tonight Thrain's larder would suffer. Mead and choice meats would be had. Stories would be told. Heroes would be remembered. Then those who were still alert enough would indulge in all manner of sex. "I believe you owe me a silver bracelet. You did not win the contest." Said Magnus. "You did not win either big man. I will save your honor and allow you to buy me a drink." Said Aesa. "I could have let you drink from Aegir's deep well but I let you stay dry on my back. Still I will buy you a drink if you will find someone else to pester tonight." Said Magnus. "We have an agreement." Said Aesa. After a steep climb to the sacred hill. The weary youths bowed briefly in the direction of the Lawrock to the right of the hall, but entered the great wooden doors of the hall into a warm chamber where the rich smell of boar and spilled ale mingled with the laughter of the inhabitants. Yes, tonight would be memorable. The Muses whisk me into the throne room of the Old Man with the Flying Man and My Lamassu. The room is not what I expected. There are no guards. The throne room is a perfect circle with no signs of ostentatious decor. Light floods the room from many clear leaded crystal glass windows. A small desk with a few large tomes stacked on it rests on a plank board floor. The top tome is murmuring in an arcane language. A spinning lamp with crystal glass panes projects golden images in all directions. The images constantly shift; evolving and morphing into new images. The light from the lamp is alive and some of the images become solid, continuing past where they are reflected, floating on the air and out of the room to an adventure of their own device. Beyond the chair are two figures. One must be the Old Man, the other is hidden in shadows. The Old Man is seated in a simple mechanical chair with wheels. It moves without his hands touching the wheels in our direction. The Old Man is almost mummified in appearance, but he eyes are vibrant and clear. A silent phrase from him and the book stops talking.
"Hahahahahaha! ooooh that was a wonderful show you put on!" he said. I look at the Flying Man wondering if I should speak. He is bowed in homage and looking straight ahead at the Old Man. "Why are you laughing? What show?" "That Fit Fiddle tries to be the star of every Golden Faire, but you stole his thunder and even got the Muses riled up! Tee hoo! Cherry-o! HAHA!" "I didn't mean to steal anything from anyone!" "That's what makes it so funny dear Miss! You don't mean to. You just do! Oh, it's been a very long time since we've had a human here...that is what you still call yourselves or am I mistaken?" "Yes, I am human. I'm a girl. I am also dreaming and should be waking up anytime now!" Out of the twenty-nine billion human beings, you are the only one who is awake! The rest are mindless automatons who wouldn't know a unicorn from a peppercorn! Oh no dear, you are not dreaming, you are a dreamer. You are a creator. You are one of only three beings I know that has a Chimera." "Lamassu sir, if you please. Chimera is so...rustic." said my Lamassu. "Rustic! Maligner! Libeler! Why I ought to transmute your smug lips into satyr sauce!" said Frandrake. "Frandrake! What are you doing here?" I said. The Old Man placed a gnarled hand over Frandrake's mouth. Butterflies escape Frandrake's nostrils in response, each a different color, all attracted to the lamp on the desk. "Frandrake is my Chimera. He is rather fond of the term. He invented it." Said the Old Man. Frandrake calms down, almost seeming to melt into the arms of the Old Man. He gives my Lamassu an indignant glare and then closes his eyes fast asleep. "You said there were three Chimeras. If Frandrake and my Lamassu are two such creatures, where is the third?" I ask. "Oh he's been among you the entire time. You've been listening to him, but you can't see him. You see, the Flying Man is mute. He was born with incredible dreams, but no voice for them. That beautiful, wonderful voice you've heard belongs to his Chimera. It is by far the largest Chimera ever known, entirely blue, filling up the sky between your world and ours. He sings the thoughts of the Flying Man, and the Flying Man loves him as he has loved no other...until now." Said the Old Man. "I had...no idea. What? Until now...what do you mean? Is the Flying Man alright?" "Oh he's better than alright, he's in love." "In love? Well that's great! Whom...?" "Anything is possible just think it and it's true Make your dreams reality sure as the sky is blue Reach for the stars as is your fate Find what's in your heart your time is not too late..." The Flying Man sang. "I did not know my dreams would take me to the stars I did not know I'd go so far I found answers to questions deep inside I found a heart given from a man who flied Singing, Dancing, Dreaming Now I am whole For the very first time." I sang. Our hands reach to each other, entwined like branches from the tree of life. I smile and blush deep red. The Muses glow bright blue as we touch. I will not attempt the words to describe how I feel at the moment. Symbol-based communication can never hope to be up to the task of thought. I suspect the Flying Man's Chimera could explain, but he is silent. "Hmmm! Haha! Now that business is settled, we should discuss your dire circumstances here on Cinereo." said the Old Man. "Am I to be punished?" I asked. "HAHAHAHAH! Perspective is a great deceiver...or aid...depending on how you see things! HAHAHAHA! A leadership role can be a pleasure or a burden. I wish to discuss your ascent to the throne here." "What? I can't lead. I'm a nobody. I'm just a girl who has learned that dreaming is wonderful!" "You can lead. Many in roles of leadership are not leaders. Sometimes you must learn to follow if you are to lead. Learn, teach, respect, listen...these are not difficult skills for a person with imagination!" "Your subjects want to banish me at best. Why would they follow me?" "They will follow you because I am dying and I say you should be the Queen!" "Make the Flying Man your King, I should be going home to my mom...what...you are dying?" "Oh he shall be King and you shall be Queen. Yes, dear girl I am kaput...a goner. I have witnessed the rise of mankind. Every dream, every creation, has made us stronger in Cinereo. Mankind has done wonderful things. He created gods, ghosts, dreams, science, magic, music, spoons and unicorns. Some of these ideas are so great they took on lives of their own. I age very slowly, but nothing lasts forever. Even dreams fade. My time is linked to the imagination of mankind. Once you take my place I intend to take a well deserved dirt-nap. I will dream of things no longer remembered and I will feel the wonder as when the first fire was started using flint and steel. Do not pity me. My body will vanish but my thoughts will endure. Its nothing I can change." "I can fix things! I can help you before it is too late! I can go back. I can make them listen. I will start small. One child. Then another. They can change. They can remember how to dream and hope and sing." "I have no doubt you can do these things girl! If anyone has the power to do so it is you. Hehe! They won't listen. They have rules. They have grand purpose! They have no time for Chimeras!" "So there is time to save them!" "From themselves? HAHA! Doubtful! But you might. I am fading fast. This last Golden Faire was more like a county fair from your home. Converting the green cheese to golden light to power these galas drains my soul. Without the dreams of mankind to fuel me I have only my own will to aid me...and of course Frandrake." "Frandrake! What will happen to him if you pass on?" "Frandrake? He may linger a few days to make sure his museum is cared for, but he will fade too. Chimeras and their dreamers are linked by energy and thought. The old fop would not get on without me." "Frandrake would do marvelous, as he has always done. This Old Man is lucky I feel ashamed of his poor fashion sense or I am sure I would have found a more palatial setting, befitting a brilliant master artisan such as myself long ago!" said Frandrake. A single golden tear betrays Frandrake's bold statement. Then something happened. It was more of a reaction than a thought. Somewhere deep inside an emotion boils to the surface, although I've only just met the Old Man. Just as I knew inside how the Flying Man loves me and I love him, just as I know mankind can be redeemed, I know I could do something for the Old Man. I grab the Old Man without warning. Our eyes lock. On instinct, my Lamassu grabs me to pull me away but I am too strong. She is now locked in gaze with the Old Man as well. The lamp on the table spins like maple seeds in a hurricane. The Muses surround us silhouetting our forms in brilliant blue auras. Light, energy, dreams, flow through me and through the Old Man and back again. Lightning crackles, then shatters the windows. The boom from the thunder drowns out the merriment of the Golden Faire. I sink to my knees exhausted. "What...what have you done? Why?" The Old Man asks. When my legs are strong enough to stand I rise. "You did not want to die. So I won't allow it. I shared my silliest childhood dreams and you have shared your wisdom and knowledge with me. We have both gained." The Old Man stands up from his wheeled contraption and looks at his long black hair, stroking it with his youthful, strong hands in wonder. "At what cost to you dear girl, at what cost?" "Oh its nothing!" I said. "Wow, you are a beautiful woman. You are...half-naked!!! Your clothes are far too small now." Said my Lamassu. "What...what have you done? Why? My dress! My perfection! Rude as a rutabaga! This won't do!" Said Frandrake. Before anyone could move, Frandrake pulls bolts of shiny fabric, spools of thread and the tools of a tailor out of thin air and begins weaving around me. "I feel like a bug being wrapped up by a spider!" I said. "Tush girl! Your fidgeting endangers a work of exquisite perfection!" Frandrake said. In moments I am decked like the Queen of Geishas heading to the ball for martinis. Frandrake has also fashioned a crown and scepter for me and the Flying Man. "I don't understand...why did you make us crowns Frandrake? The Old Man will remain King of Cinereo!" I said. "You two are now Duke and Duchess of Dreams...Viziers of Visualization. Count and Countess of Creativity. With my color palette and your good judgement the Golden Faire will be the event to dwarf all others...much like my presence awes and humbles those who should catch a glimpse of my magnitude!" Said Frandrake. We can hear the sound of the Golden Faire denizens entering the room, but with the wave of a hand, the Old Man reassures them. Then, a flash of his eyes and a burst of Golden light enters the Faire like a wave filling it with sound, smells and a flourish of merriment. One by one the Muses fade from the room until only three remain. They enter our mouths, the Old Man, the Flying Man and me and settle in behind our eyes, a blue glimmer visible when we smile. "What will you do now girl? Are you really going back to Earth?" Asked the Old Man. "I'm going back there now. Oh, not forever. I need to plant the seeds. Someone needs to help them remember who they are. We are the dreamers, the singers, the dancers and doers. We speak in rhyme when it is time. We laugh and play, we do it all day. Magic is not a word. Magic is a world. I must have fun, for the when I am done, the Flying Man will take me straight to the Sun. We'll dance on a flare of solar-y air, we'll sing of the work that he's done. So I must go, So I must run, my feet finally touching the ground. But though they touchdown, I won't have a frown, because I remember the Faire! Oooh, I walked to the Moon without a balloon I walked to the Golden Faire The breeze in the trees is made of green cheese And they have a fine time there Once to the Moon, Once to the Faire Once to see the Old Man When I return, if I return I'll never look stern Or the Old Man will follow me home I'll sing of the breeze I'll sing of the trees I'll sing of the Golden Faire The town folk will say My mind's gone astray But the Old Man knows the truth The Old Man knows the truth Once to the Moon You sing like a loon You sing of the Golden Faire ---Touchdown--- |
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