Journal Therapy: Hero Of My Story

Mood: Afraid 
Location: Sydney

Rationale: I've been watching a docu-series on Netflix - Myths & Monsters which discussed the pattern of stories throughout human history. This got me to thinking about how I could use this plotline to influence my subconscious and navigating my 'mindgarden'.

If the purpose of my journal therapy is to create a more orderly, positive landscape within, what better way than to overlay a heroic story for myself, combining my love for creative writing with the emotional need for a relatable storyline. So I shall begin...

---

PART 1: A STORM IS COMING

Once upon a time, there was a young boy, and we use the term 'boy' loosely, as sometimes, he would prefer to be a 'she', not a woman or a girl,  but a more effeminate form of himself, with a large range of states in between. Suddenly conscious of sitting on a stump in the middle of a wide field, a single street lamp shone down from above. 

The landscape was dark, the sky above cloudy like a storm was about to arrive, but it seems to have always been like this. Instinct nudged against his mind, a soft alarm to find shelter, a safe space where there would be peace and comfort. 

Despite not wanting to leave this familiar spot, There was a fluttering of shadows that he thought must be his friends. They were black ravens, diving sharply from above and right past him. 

He cried "Wait! don't leave me alone!", but deaf to his words, they flew onward into the pitch black sky, melting as if they were the same essence of the gloom ahead, leaving him to run in his slow, sluggish footsteps. 

In the silent dark, not being able to catch up, it began to feel truly lonely, quiet tears streamed down his face, each drop marked the heavy expression on his face. He had walked so far that his sitting stump was no longer visible. He decided there was no choice but to move ahead, tucking his hair  behind his ears in the blowing winds.

He came upon wild brambles that had strange whispering plants. A wet sheen covered the leaves, reflecting his own blurry image that he realised he had never seen before. What did he actually even look like? He stopped to smell some roses that he liked a lot, he named them and decided they were his sisters. He asked them why was he lost, but each gave him a different reason from their limited understanding. They spoke lovely words and comforted him, but he knew they had not given a true answer as none of them resonated with him. Walking slowly and cautiously, there were also thorns that hurt his feet as he made the journey towards the garden. Again he wanted to stop but had nowhere to rest. A scary lightning snake flashed through the clouds. It zig-zagged across the sky, forked tongue flicking in the quick winds, heralding the storm that was about to break.

He saw a humongous tree far away, towering over layers of growth, he couldn't separate the shadowy outlines of bush and hedges, but could only stumble painfully towards the general direction. He looked back and wondered how far he had journeyed from the beginning, and he wished for someone who could help him. Another lightning snake zapped out of the sky and struck a bush nearby, lighting it on fire. The flame danced and grew, turning into a sparkling form. Long straight tresses revealed a beautiful breath-taking face with an aura so powerful, she must be a goddess!

PART 2: LADY JEWEL

The bright aura was a purple nimbus, shimmering around her long sparkling hair and naked form. She looked at him and asked, "Why are you so sad my child?" 

He was afraid, in awe and yet, desperate for a friend. He shyly replied, "Can you help me? I think I'm very lost". She smiled, eyes large and hypnotic, made of embers that gave off no heat but brightened her surroundings. "Do not hold onto your fears, you are stronger than you know, your search will be blessed as it will also bring joy to others, so I will lend you my strength", she said as she held out her hand.

Afraid to be burnt, he crept slowly towards her, wanting to be like her so he could shine a light into the darkness, and bring joy to others so that maybe his friends would return, ending his solitude. He squinted his eyes and touched her flaming hands, the flames didn't burn but instead flowed over his skin and melded through him. The electric fire swallowed him as she and he became one. For the first time, he felt what must be Courage, warming the chilling grip of fear and loneliness. He glowed with an aura of different colours, letting him see more of the path ahead. He heard her voice within, telling him to continue on and not to give up.

Suddenly he floated above the thorny path and could see that the shadowy outlines resolve into a maze of hedges and bushes stretching much further than he first thought. The winds seem to push him ahead like a bubble caught in a breeze. Floating past the last bit of the field's edge, he arrived at the huge leafy wall of the hedge maze. The entrance was to the side, its opening guarded by three large statues, towering over him with a stony gaze that brought some of the dispelled fear back into his heart. Each guardian sent a fierce thought into his mind, challenging him, blocking his path until they deem him worthy to cross.

PART 3: THE GUARDIAN OF BODY

The first guardian statue had a large platform before him, the platform had numbers and an arrow that pointed at 0. When he stood on the platform, that arrow spun to a humongous number, indicating how cumbersome and heavy he was. The guardian said "Thou shalt not pass! you are not the ideal weight", then proceeded to show calculations of the correct size he should be for his current state of being. The guardian struck at his mind and from the impulse blossomed a sense of deep shame. An awareness of his shapeless wobbling form dawned upon him, causing him to suddenly expand and contract just as quickly. He tried running around the walls of the maze, stretching himself this way and that to become the correct shape, but he would always snap back in the wrong position, size and weight. 

With a sense of despair, he sat on the judging platform and stared at the large scary numbers, absently he plucked at a nearby fruit and started to chew, then to munch, later to binge on the entire fruit bush before stopping himself. The arrow on the platform swung up and up, numbers growing ever larger, making him panic though he just ate more in response. His mid-section soon bulging like rolls folding on top of each other.

---

...Will he ever get past the first guardian? tune in next time on my next Journal Therapy entry.

Moon Rabbitch

illustration by Royce Tan T.G. (The Great)

When the moon disappears from the sky, we know that it has been eaten.
Because on the moon, there lives a creature with long sock-like ears, huge padded feet, as cute as a bunny.
BUT, this adorable sack traps a dark soul and is called ... the RABBITCH
(*A terrifying creature created when a bunny voodoo doll was used to trap that spirit in The Ring's horror video... I digress, ehem.)

The Rabbitch is trapped on the Moon with no body and no food.
The Rabbitch is always hungry and she is always angry.
Angry enough to eat rocks; and she does.
Piece by piece, She eats the moon in 28 days.
Her bite marks are craters, her crumbs are comets.

The Rabbitch has done this over and over again for eons.
Perceivable only as the Moonshadow.
Every once in a while, she gets powerful enough to eat the sun, which they call a Solar Eclipse.
The Chinese characters for Lunar eclipse are = 月食Yuè shí

月= Moon

食= Food/Eat

When the moon is full you can see the Rabbitch'es shadow with a good telescope.

Over time humans have collected proof of her existence.

Now you know why the moon gets eaten every month.
Appreciate the Moonlight, before it is consumed anew.

Learn more about Japanese Moon Rabbit Legends on the WIKI : http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moon_rabbit

Prompted Writing: Tell a story set in a place where the landscape reworks itself nightly.

Working Title: When All Was One

0.1. One. Many. Humongous. INFINITE.^1000

Our existence expanded from the smallest of pinprick of vibration into a massive cataclysm of exploding energy.

The blossom of energy thrust itself forward at the speed of light and left a stream called Time.

The next few seconds, we were One no longer, but disintegrated into many impossible divisions, with such force that we are still expanding as you are reading this.

In those first billion nights, our universe was but a swirling mess of  cross-elemental marriages between Protons and Electrons, turning us into unions called Hydrogen.

It was always night then, for we were the stars.
We had only the consciousness that we prefer to stick together than not, and so, clusters of our Hydrogens gathered and exploded in constant Hydrogen bombs (which was a form of copulation).

Each night was a dance of creation and destruction, and to us back then, each night was a billion years.
Then suddenly the dance...changed. We created unions called Helium, then more complex unions came from our reshuffling.

EONS.

We have mastered the dance of creation and destruction. We gathered in such masses, and with such closeness, that we were called the planets

Gigantic clouds that danced to destruction pressed against themselves so tightly that they tore through the stream of time, falling into a sucking black abyss.

Other Clouds danced to creation, releasing massive waves of energy which formed the light of our universe.

The most basic of our dances is called Gravity. The pulling together. We find similarity, direct and complimentary, and attempt to regather in the semblance of our past One-ness.

Warning: Over doing Gravity will cause everyone to trip on each other and implode into a Black Hole or fall outwards to trip on all surrounding Clouds and spill their essence as a Supernova.

Our Music is Electromagnetic, a system that governs our steps at every level, pushing, flowing, repelling...it compels our motion.

Finally, Our gathering was called Mass. clusters of us so tightly gripped that we formed a one...not quite the One we used to be, but at least partially fulfilling our desire to unite.

And there is one of our largest mass, a Galaxy, milky swirls of glitter parading down the streams of time.
Night was our state for we are the stars.
In our dance, the light shall ever blaze as the glory that was once One.

I WANT: To Be Adept in the Art of Writing.

I WANT: to be adept at writing.


I WANT: to start finish a fiction novel based on the drama of my family tree's history.


I WANT: to create sculptures of a very interesting material that can capture the imagination.


I WANT: to create lots of really good, self edited, hi quality videos, in a few buttons.


I WANT: to make how-to guides on specific ways to take advantage of the internet through piracy 'data-sharing'

Desires to Delay

I WANT: a world that has no such thing as a login, but we are all already constantly connected to the internet.


I DO: ?




This is my attempt at Strange writing.. it's not the flowery words of creative writing, it is meant to be an uncomfortable glance at my desires. It's the loud desire that carries a soft, sketchy description, to show how easy it is to WANT, but how few of us dare to visualise it. And only ? of us do it.

EloquenceAcademy.com

What Does It Mean To Be Different.

What Does It MeaN To Be DiffeRRent?

IT is suggesting Smoeihitng else.

In is giving the Odd One Out~'

And the twilly-toves. and the momeraths,~ Outgrabe.


What lies in the conscious minds

our memories doth it play. with silver spines and golden wines

How pretty a soft display.


I sha|| do this as an ode
to the oddest of arts/

The disconnects,
The monotones.
The chromium sound of google chrome.


In da Gadda Da Vida baby~

How The Snail Got Its Shell

How The Snail Got Its Shell

This story begins during the dawn of time when snails had no shells. As a species, their soft sluggish bodies were vulnerable to the elements.

(image credit: https://static.independent.co.uk)

The bees built their hives and the ants built their nest in great networked tunnels; but the snails had no arms or legs to lift and carry, leaving them unable to build their own homes.

Determined and hopeful, one slug left his family and went in search for a house of his own. Shimmery trails marked his slow journey, under the scorching sun and through the stormy rain, tentacles stuck out stretched vigorously forward as if pulled by some magnetic force, his ultimate dream... a home.

(image credit: https://media.treehugger.com/)

Many moons went by, and this snail crawled its way over great forests and trees, leaving his family far behind. With immense patience, he finally reached the edge of the world where Mother Nature herself bathed in the oceans.

The snail approached her and asked: "Oh Great Mother, I have traveled a long, long way in search of a home, but every beautiful place I found seemed empty and lifeless because I am alone. I understand now that a home is more than just a place to live in; it is a place where your heart is. I miss my family greatly because my heart is with them."

Touched by the words of the snail, Mother Nature smiled and rose from the ocean, a host of hermit crabs in colourful shells came out of the waves behind her, each with another empty shell in its claws.

 (image credit: https://img.fotocommunity.com/)

Mother Nature blessed the Snail: "Oh sweet-hearted snail, you have learned a great lesson of mine, something that is often taken for granted. The truth that home is where the heart is."

From that day forth, each snail was blessed with their own home on their backs to live with their families, right in the lush beauty of nature. To this day, they will rejoice in Mother Nature's rain to celebrate the gift of home and family.

(image credit: https://images3.alphacoders.com )

--THE END--

Those Eyes of Blue Skies

Those Eyes of Blue Skies  


Light refracted in those clear blue eyes, seemingly to capture the exact hue of patchy cerulean sky above our heads. Those pair of lash-framed pools smiled, fleeting hints of secret knowledge danced in its depths. They seem to be focused on something in the distance and then back at my own deep brown irises, smiling right into the core of me. Transmuted into an old and familiar ache that begins to thump...thump...thump, somewhere much lower than where my heart should be, and simultaneously in my throat as well.


I held his gaze a moment more than I dared. Mentally chastising myself, I tear my sight away to find sudden interest in the floor. Side by side, two pairs of footsteps walking down a busy street, indistinguishable from the cadence of city-dwellers going about their lives, only separated by my own  mental bubble of 'Us'.


A fleeting taste of disgust creeps inside my throat.

'Weak.'

The thought came unbidden. A statement. It just felt like I shouldn't be so weak from a simple look! Do I not have any sense left in my head? Has all my past experiences not thought me anything?

He stops by the cold grey marble tables at the cafe, just as the light of day faded. With a twinkle in his now darker blue eyes, he announced that he will get us both Chai Lattes. I smiled, nodded and I kept my shroud of mystery as tightly as I could, betraying nothing in my expression.

The quicksands of time had robbed us of 2 years and it was the last day that I could still see him face to face. I stared at his back, scanned his leather jacket, willing a hole to sear through it as he waited in line. Perhaps if my wishes began to come true, I could wish us together...

I held the brown corrugated cup in my hands; Steam wafted in the air; a busker sat across the street strumming his guitar and a breeze blew twirling leaves onto the ground.

We were talking and I wanted to hold him like that in my head forever. Spirited, smiling...warm...

"Hey?" he asked.

His voice broke through my reverie.

"Hmm? Oh sorry, you were saying?"

I smiled gently to reassure him. He probably knew what was going on in my head, but tried to cheer me up anyway.

He was always trying to get me to see the brighter side of things... and I even saw it sometimes... but only through his eyes.

I absentmindedly tugged on my left earlobe again. A tell-tale habit of mine when I felt insecure. I took a deep sip, felt my heart climb up my throat again and said :

"I'm going to miss you."

yet the unsaid words hung in my mind.

{[ I still love you ]}

We locked eyes for a moment, the briefest moment; but to my bared soul, it was a silent eternity, sinking into the depths of those eyes...

************

My lids swept open and my pupils dilated in shadow-streaked darkness. (Inhale.)

A dream of a memory, one year past.

It had seemed so real, but leaked away as soon as I tried desperately to grasp it. Like slipping quicksand through fingers, only the sensation is left when you close your palms.

364 days and a quarter make up one year, but a year means very little when you've left your heart to drown in someone else's eyes. I regain an empty calm, staring out the barred windows into the abandoned night.

Awaiting the dawn to paint the skies, the color of his eyes.

Saving Fish From Drowning.

I heard of this Chinese saying that Amy Tan (on Ted.com) was explaining: "Saving Fish From Drowning."

She claims this old saying is from the Buddhist fishermen of ancient China. They felt bad for killing living beings for their livelihood, because according to their faith, fishes are just reincarnated human souls with bad karma.

To comfort themselves, these fishermen found the 'silver lining' to their 'dark cloud' with the saying: "We are simply 'Saving Fish From Drowning'...unfortunately, the fish dies in the process. "

I think it is a very sticky-in-the-mind quote because it's like an oxymoron but sounds like ironic poetry, yet the background story and context changes it from funny to steep deep.

Your opinion of the saying in relation to the story of these fishermen would cause you to reconsider your moral compass, your preconceptions of human vs nature, and then struggle with emotion and logic - "To sympathize with the working class or to defend fishes' rights?"

As with every quote I collect and internalize, I had an existential crisis and started asking questions like:
"Is it ok to kill animals for a living?"

"Is fishing a natural skill we evolved with, like Kingfishers?"

"Are humans a type of evolved fish?"

"If Humans are evolved, then why are we the ones endangering the whole planet."

"Killing seems wrong from human's perspective, yet hunter and prey are aspects of nature. Is killing to eat ok?"

***Mental Tangle***



The best part about the story is that this simple saying was the solution to their guilt. They didn't have to change anything they did, simply the way they saw things.

My problems are problems because I get into a mental tangle of negativity, juggling question after question when a simple mind shift might be the solution.

I see:
"Malaysian roads is a hellish battle of metal and honking. Drivers give you the finger, cuts your lane and then criticizes your mother. There are also occasional pothole minefields, flash floods, chain accidents and sudden motorbike gangs."

I positive paint:
"If I can drive in Malaysia, I can drive anywhere. Drivers think about my mother more than I do. Flash Pothole Minefield Flood is my new favourite driving reality game, like Grand Theft Auto, but real.


I see:
"Poor healthcare and waived human rights."

I paint:
"They know we can't afford Rich healthcare and when there is less human rights, it stands to reason that there should be less human wrongs as well.


I see:
"Racial discrimination and prejudice."

I paint:
"A lot of people are really good at racial profiling and simply giving their feedback on other cultures. People are probably saving a lot of time using prejudice, like court trials, judgement can be a slow process."


The lesson here is that having a positive view needs creative thinking, unconventional ideas and maybe even ironic poetry.

It's not a question of being right or wrong, it's more a question of how to see things different, how to find the silver lining of your own mind-cloud. That silver lining saves fish from drowning, it also saves people from drowning.

Failure To Launch (short fiction)

It's been a year since I've failed my mission. not a mission to Mars, but just as important and challenging.

Sometimes lifting yourself off the ground can feel as difficult and as risky as a space shuttle launch. It's been little over a year since my failure to launch and I am still stuck here. I sit in my spacesuit of dreams most of the time now. I dream of being amongst the stars, a celestial held in reverence by all tongues.

Some say that I won't reach beyond, the sky is The limit; statistically, things are not in my favor. I should just plant my feet on solid ground, grow roots, settle down...settle.

My own motto: 'Don't settle for less than your personal best.'

I stare at the Full Moon. The Sun is steadfast but the Moon, the moon, she fills and fades with rhythm, an ancient cycle ruling over human consciousness.

There is something so much larger out there, yet undiscovered and unknown to the minds of men.

I've heard: "The human mind is a way for the Universe to contemplate itself."

The gift of awareness can contemplate things so much bigger than us, so much older and transcendent.

The big question still hangs: "What are we here for?"

Perhaps our function is not in our form but in the way we form. Alone, we are physically pitiful and our newborns would die quickly, when we form a family, we are connecting energy. The larger our web of connections, the more empowered we feel.

Our innate desire makes us explore, expand and evolve.

My mission is what failed to launch, not my dreams.
My dreams are like the moon. I may not see it today but it does not mean it's not there. The unseen moon still exerts its pull on the tide, its pull on me.
My hope is like the sun, there is light even on the darkest mornings.
My passion is like the sparkling stars above, ignited and seen long after it has passed.

My Secret Lair

I understand a lair to be this dark secret room where one might plot against the whole world or a particular superhero. I do not know if I will be sharing the ambitions of those who actually use lairs, but I definitely would like one.

The way secret lairs have been typically described, tend to be in poor and lousy conditions. Probably trying to link dirt to evil as god is to cleanliness. Yet I think a person who can devote all their time into a personal space that is furthermore kept a secret, would not allow it to fall to dusty disuse.

If I had a lair...

It would be underground, hidden next to a secret garden route to provide cover when I enter my secret base. The entrance shall have to be connected to several locations at the same time via Space wormhole technology. This is in case I feel like eating KFC and Pizza at the Same Time.

My secret lair has a stylish salon as the greeting hall in case someone accidentally drops into my lair from one of the constantly connected locations. This would also serve as the preparation room before entering the proper lair. This gives the reveal an extra dose of awesome.

You walk along the entrance of black mother pearl lined with intricate veins of gold in a graphic representation of goldfishes swimming. The skylight is visual programming to give the impression of night time in the rainforest falls. There are some digital spray mists for a realistic experience.

Your hands wave across an image that illustrates the Haiku of the day, and then Florence and The Machine plays so that you may contemplate the beautiful poetry, all whilst the circular black and gold image of earth that you are standing on begins to rotate into the next section of the wall. You are engulfed in the dark.

Mood lighting softly glows on the ceiling and the spray mists surround you again while rainforest birds serenade, and you do not realize that the mist is actually antibacterial spray. Just another amazingly smart idea of mine to avoid insulting other human beings. I highly recommend this method to all airline personnel that spray canned disinfectant at their customers whilst they are held captive in your cabin.

Back to my lair...

Like the crack of dawn, light creeps into your elevator and the scent of geranium, lavender and rose to accompany you as you step out of the elevator. A large pillar in the center is the first thing to catch your attention because it is a humongous aquarium of tropical fish, jellyfish and my sashimi reserve included.

The interior feels like you've entered into a movie set of a few fantastical locations. The kitchen has a central island that could accommodate a chef staff of 20, in case I need people to reheat my KFC. I bring your attention to the sides of the island have been redesigned into a tiki bar called The Island, and the concept of it is that there are mini people who live on my kitchen island as a real Island, like Hawaii for example. Therefore my alcohol bottles will be redesigned into a classy little bottle-shaped high-rise-huts. The little island alcoholics will live in them.

We both take out the bottles and begin drinking to get the little islanders inside, out. By the time we've got them out, we were so drunk that the health-bot I have lying around began attending to us, but you threw up on it and it malfunctioned. You blacked out and I have to leave you in KFC through my connected wormhole entrance that seals off as soon as I leave you there. There is a personalized Royce chocolate in your pocket to keep you from going hungry.

I continue to enjoy construction on my secret lair.
You wake up drunk in KFC. You want to post your experience up on facebook but you don't remember the details.

Ladies and gentlemen, THAT is how you keep your lair secret.

The End.

Narwhals vs Hammerheads

Why The Hammerheads Hate The Narwhals.

 ...King Neptune ruled the seven seas, he granted the sea creatures protection against the Two-Legs whom have left the dry lands and began destroying our oceans. The docile Jellyfish, received ribbons of poison; the Eels he gifted with lightning; the Octopus gained shape-shifting and many more creatures were blessed with new abilities. When it came to the last & most important gift, he asked his royal counsellor,Mana the Manatee leader.


King Neptune asked: "Who under the Surface deserves the horn of Pegasus?"

Mana replied: "Such power must rest with wisdom. We would take the burden."

Great White, leader of the Sharks greedily disagreed: "We should be the guardians. We swim faster and    our sharp teeth serves us well."

This argument went on as King Neptune thought of an idea. He decreed: "Let the horn be awarded to one who can remove a Two-Leg weapon by disarming them and bringing that object to me."

Each of the two tribes sent their leaders to seek this weapon. Mana knew Great White would follow her, she thought of a plan and swam to a Two-Leg she often saw by the Sargasso sea. Soon, she found the demon ferociously bashing what must be a weapon against the giant driftwood which they used to traverse the Surface and capture fish folk. Mana took care to disguise herself, seaweed placed over her head to resemble human hair, Mana crept to the shore where the Two-Leg they called Carpenter stood waist deep, smashing weapon against wood with terrible ferocity.

SPLASH!

Carpenter looked at Mana's tail and the strange human form beneath the waves. Dark flowing hair and ample hips swam away. He called after her: "Fair Mermaid, please grant me my wish!" and began to swim after Mana mistaking her for a real mermaid.

You see, there were times when the Two-Legs have captured our merfolk and demanded powers in exchange for our people's freedom. The infamous Two-Leg they called Aphrodite was one such monster, but this old Turtle will tell you that story some other day. Where was I? Oh yes, Mana saw Great White lurking behind rocks and swam towards him calling: "The Two-Leg is attacking me! He has a weapon!"

Great White was lightning fast. In a surface sparkle, the Two-Leg, Carpenter, had been attacked by Great White. Mana hurriedly swam to the giant driftwood and found the strange weapon, half driftwood and half ...silver rock. Mana wasted no time in rushing back to the king before Great White realized that he had been tricked.

In the castle, King Neptune inspected the odd item and looked carefully at the small but heavy two-headed end. He said: "This is surely not the craft of any Merman. Well done Mana, The horn of Pegasus shall be granted to thee and you shall henceforth be known as the Whales of Neptune, Nar-Whals as the ancients would say." He crowned the horn on Mana's forehead and each of her group sprouted the same horn.

Great White swam in, furious at the sight of Mana and her legion receiving the horn, He protested: "No! We were tricked, Your Majesty! Mana made me kill the Two-Leg."

Mana swam to Great White and lightly touched him with her new horn.

The truth came pouring out of his mouth unbidden: "I care not for defending our oceans, I want revenge for my finless brothers. I would gladly kill every single Two-Leg and would kill Mana now and You if it would assure my revenge."

 Upon hearing this, I remember King Neptune's dark face: "We shall not become like the bloodthirsty Two-Legs! The horn is a gift of truth & peace, not revenge. Great White, You who would kill your own king, you are hereby banished from the Kingdom of Sirenia and you are never to return again."

Great White fled the castle in embarrassment, vowing to kill each Two-Leg, Nar-Whal or Manatee he could find.

King Neptune raised the weapon, which Two-Legs called... a Hamma...no, no. A Hammer. That's it! King Neptune struck the Hammer down upon the rest of the shark soldiers. Their large heads became flat and they lost many of their sharp teeth. They were then called the Hammerheads, wearing the shameful form of a Two-Leg weapon wherever they swam.

They serve to remind us of the dangers above the Surface and the terrible power that Two-Legs wield. This is why they still swim in a unity of a school and the Great White's descendants choose to be lone hunters, abandoning peace and unity.

The Nar-Whals gaining more wisdom through the power of the horn, taught us that peace is more powerful than force. They retreated to the freezing arctic ocean where Two-Legs do not like to go.

 However, the tides bring warning of change now. Two-Legs have created Whale-sized driftwood, made from their hammer's head silver rock, even the arctic seas are not safe any longer. The Hammerheads still hate the Nar-Whals for assigning them such a fate, but both sides agree that they must dismiss their differences in the face of the greater Two-Leg threat.

That is enough of bedtime stories for now, young Prince Triton. Your father King Poseidon would be angry if you did not get your rest. This old turtle needs to rest too now. *yawns* The purity of the waters are not what they used to be you know."

The ancient sea turtle sighed once more and left Prince Triton to contemplate the fearful Two-Legs deep below the now polluted surface.

THE END.

Short Fiction: Girl of the Gale - Part 1

   

Girl Of The Gale

           The wind whipped her hair in the custard yellow light. Each buttercup blossom nodding its head back and forth. Green eyed and innocent, Aurai's face lit up as she took in the scent on the breeze. She took care not to step on any blossom for fear of damaging the delicate wild flowers. She sang:

"Are you going to Soveren Faire? Flowers bloom,~ Rosefairy and Tyme~" (sung in the tune of Scarborough Fair)

The breeze picked up.

"With song, this Spring, shall fly on the winds~ There was once a true love of mine.~" 

With that last verse the winds rushed past her dark hair and sent a whole field of pollenated seedlings into the air.

Like fairy dust, the seeds spun around her and flew across the hills towards the desert. She stared into the horizon, willing the seeds to take root in the Starving Lands. Calming her heart, she brought the winds back down to stillness.

She heard a rustle from a specific spot now, She turned to see someone hiding among the thrush. She was being watched.

"Come out! I know you're there, do not think you can conceal yourself and watch me! Pervert!"

In anger, she drew a circle at her feet and a small stirring of air spun itself into a fast funnel. Aurai opened up her palm and the funnel rushed into the direction of her spy, tossing dirt and dust in its path. The little tornado threw the person into sight. Aurai heard loud coughing, as if whoever it was swallowed a good amount of dust. The brown powder settled and the form of an old woman in worn out clothes raised her hand in defense.

"Please, kind Magess, do not harm poor old Vate, Vate means you no offense."

Aurai ran to help her in alarm, she had not thought it would be a weak old woman hiding by the river. It was usually the town boys whom tried to play pranks on her. Aurai lifted Vate's slender frame slowly, at a closer look, she noticed that this woman wasn't as old as she thought, simply emaciated from hunger.

"I am so sorry Vate, pardon my transgressions (she intoned formally in the Aniki tongue with a slight bow to her elder) Are you injured at all?" Aurai's face blushed with a rosy glow.

"It is alright, peace to the contrite (she replied in a different accent of the tongue). I should not have concealed my presence Magess, it is my fault. I simply did not want to disturb your ritual." She smiled a weak smile and tried to arrange her garments as best she could without looking into the river's reflection.

With another embarrassed smile, Aurai looked away and said: "Oh... this was not an actual Sidhe ritual. I...I've have simply been practicing you see. My mother is the town's Prima Magess and I am simply her apprentice." She did not want the traveller to know that she wind summoning without permission.

She quickly asked:

"Your accent and dressing are not familiar, Did elder Vate travel far from the west?" Aurai guided the older lady to a boulder nearby, it wasn't comfortable for sitting but it would have to do for then.

"Thank you Magess." Vate winced as she sat on the sharp rocks and Aurai quickly replied "Your gratitude is admired" (in the formal Aniki way) "Well Vate has traveled far from the borders of the Starving lands. This winter has robbed Vate's family of her food source......"

In that moment, her eyes became haunted and even more tired. Her body sagged like a rice bag and she held her wrist looking down to the ground.

"Vate has lost her son two weeks ago." she almost whispered. Her eyes welling up.

by *DominikaAniola

Aurai's heart was filled with sympathy when she heard this, and sat beside this lady in an attempt to comfort her. "I am so sorry for your tragedy Vate. Please tell me more and you do not have to use the Low Language with me." (Low Language is the way a commoner or one of lower rank would refer to themselves as the third person when speaking to one of higher rank)

" Va... I... I have nothing left to live for in the Shara, the last winter has brought the borders of the Starving lands into my village, Enlil, . Many have left in search of new living lands. My son Amun has been lost to the hunt... Another hunter thought him prey..." At this, she began to sniff and clenched her skirts to suppress her great sorrow.

Aurai touched her silver worked Magess necklace, a symbol of good luck and her station. She silently prayed for Amun's soul as such a tragic incident would surely not let his spirit rest. Aurai lightly patted Vate's arm to reassure her.

"The hunger in my village have driven my neighbours to petty robbery." She said that with a hint of anger. "They would not even let an old woman grieve in peace. That was when I decided that there is nothing left in Enlil for me anymore."

Staring at Vate's sunken cheeks and trembling arms, Aurai decided that she will at least give this woman shelter and a warm meal for throwing her into the air with such indignation.

"Elder Vate, please accept my invitation to rest in my home and share my meal. You shall stay with me and my mother until we find you a suitable living in my town, Soveren. Mother always says that the town could use more female energy."

Vate's eyes widened at such a generous offer and before she could motion to refuse, Aurai interrupted her: "I will not take a refusal as it is my payment for inflicting injury to your body. Please, it is the least I can do. I would be dishonoring the oath of the Magess Circle if I do not help someone in need."

Weakly, Vate let her hand fall down and thanked Aurai with a defeated nod. She was much too exhausted to put up an argument.

Aurai reached into her bag and took out her feathered Windchime. Like a large dandelion puff, it had a chamber inside that rattled noisily. Aurai threw it into the air and with a sharp gesture, a jet of air sent the Windchime spinning and rattling into the direction she pointed.

"That will notify my mother and the household of my return. Are you well enough to walk elder Vate? Let me get you some water."

As Aurai turned, taking out her flask to collect water from the river, Vate watched Aurai from behind. As the fiery red sunset fanned its dying light across the land, Vate held a glint in her eye but her face betrayed nothing of what lied beneath...

<END OF PART ONE>