Chronicle of the Mirror, part XI

Yuna glides deeper in the ink like darkness. Her Arachne’s eyes detect in time thick and huge cobwebs welcoming all intruder in the heart of the fortress of the dark elves. Fluttering in zigzag along these obstacles, Yuna’s descent is observed by some silhouettes of Arachnes busy in their webs. Then she finds behind a procession of Arachnes flying toward her. Now, all infused knowledges from the Grimoire of the Damned prove themselves. The personality of the fairy Yuna is removed in a very remote corner inside of the Arachne she became. Yuna is protected from any telepathic incursion. The fairy knows about this field. She, the fairy rebel with a hundred faces, which changes shape according to the race of confronted creatures. But this time, the Transfiguration of Arachnes that took place in her should vampirize the soul of Yuna. But the immortal fairy is prepared in her every fibers of magic. She already feels Arachnes vicious telepathic links be forged through her thoughts. But there is no longer Yuna to feed these awful creatures. The essence of the fairy is dimmed for the moment.

It is at this point that the flight ends on a large web decorated with amber  and green crystals  from which emanates a thin light weaker than candles. A dozen Arachnes approach in a circle around Yuna. With grace and boldness Yuna deploys personality created on the spot. Such a spider spinning its web, Yuna weaves her charisma to her audience who could devour her on the spot and shred her soul to the four corners of  the Inner Meanders.

Yuna’s plan is simple: to win the trust of these Arachnes, then create one compelling story about a plot created by Arachnéida against the council of the Arachnes. Finally, when the Queen of the Dark Elves will point herself in few moments ... her destiny will turn black.

It's amazing the amount of knowledge that  Grimoire of the Damned may contain. Yuna did completely steeped herself, by black magic, in a whole world of darkness so perfectly that she could dominate this civilization and survive all possible intrigues in this underworld.

Moreover, emerging from the depths under the large web of the council, in a perfect attitude of devil queen, here comes the Black Widow, Arachnéida. The way she levitates, her elven body looks like a black angel. Her physical beauty sounds like dementia. Her attraction has sucked hundreds of male’s souls and her hunting trophies show also female preys. Yuna knows it through the Prohibited Grimoire. But the fairy knows she is able to confront this dark legend slipping into darkness toward the center of the great council, at the edge of her destiny, in the twilight of her glory. It is at this precise moment that the greatest deception is ever lived by the Dark Elves. Perplexed looks and attitudes quickly build a climate of mistrust vis-à-vis the powerful queen.

It is in this micro-second of general instability, where a deadly duel can break the tension, that Yuna apply the final phase of her plan. In a fountain of magic light, Yuna, the fairy rebel is careful to target fragile eyes of her opponents. Like a fireworks the blinding light burst out from her eight legs and two arms, striking down jets of light so intense that the walls are illuminated. In a few moments, the heads of the Dark Elves are crowned with a light almost fatal to this subterranean race. Disoriented, unbalanced, several Arachnes free-fall in the inked void that glows around. Over the walls of the great fault, enlightened as ever, bizarre gigantic figures are revealed as strange reliefs. All along the cliff, these reliefs are traversed by ramifications of light. The entire wall is riddled with streams of fairy light, flashing from the ten members of Yuna, herself in perfect levitation. This is where the fairy magic becomes deadly in the hands of a rebel fairy. Six or eight Arachnes lay on the ground, crowned with their eternal light. Blinded, they don’t see these giant stone feet rising above them to crash down at one go.

Rolling on the floor, Arachnéida focuses on a counter spell against the brightness of the sphere of light around her head. With an elfic grace, she avoids the fate of Arachnes crushed like insects under the feet of these famous giants cited in the legendary Grimoire of the Damned: FOMORES,  inhabitants of the First Ages of Inner Meanders, brought back to life by Yuna’s magical touch.

Of the corner of her eye, the fairy Arachne knows her enemy prevents stone giants. From her eight legs she converges the light flow, targeting Arachnéida’s head. In a squeaking evil voice, the Black Widow joins the ground, suffering from intense magical light devouring her optical fibers. Without delay, Yuna takes off towards the summit. It's now or never that retreat is required.

Throughout her rise to the top of the fault, Yuna notice of widening cracks in the walls. The stone giants leave their millinery house and the cave crumbles like a grotesque sand castle. From everywhere, on the walls of the chimney collapsing, powerful warriors Black Guards operate their extrusion but immediately become the target of the implacable Yuna who launches balls of light, burning their elven eyes. It is in a deadly game of chain reaction that these magical bullets multiply from one head to another bringing fatal falls like a rain of shooting stars. The Fomores’ awakening continues from caves to caves bringing chaos and destruction ...

At last, we find our two companions reunited. They still practice intrusion into Gaia’s bowels to accomplish the ultimate action that will repel any possible invasion of Dark Elves. The speed of action is their guarantee of success. Two against thousands, they must rely on strong allies who will benefit in the defeat of a society as corrupt that powerful.

A telepathic link opens again between Yuna and Ditratos : Yuna, my favorite fairy, you were fantastic against these Arachnes… and released Fomores provide plenty of challenges for surviving dark elves.

My dear Strider, it's crazy how I like it, the twists, it has an exhilarating effect on me. But beware, Arachnéida still circulating in her Inner Meanders... she's a hardened old sinner!

At these thoughts, sliding across the surrounding density, Ditratos feels his heart full of a new force: Yuna, her tiny favorite fairy! ...

Our nemesis does not worry me any more, he thinks, as soon as we reached the LAMENTATIONS’ vault, thousands of familiar voices to Arachnéida will be heard again, referring to intense moments of the First Ages and will weaken her.

TO BE CONTINUED ... Chronicle of the Mirror, part XII

Renatus.

Chronicle of the Mirror, part X

La Roche-aux-fées and its moon night are far behind, well above them, where careless civilizations are under a risk of the Dark Elves invasion. Telepathic thoughts run through the  massive and dense rock.The descent is constant. The dimensionless bodies pass through the telluric crust between two worlds; the one of Light and the other of Darkness.

 Ditratos and Yuna take advantage of the magic of the dark elves. Their ethereal physical bodies pierce the veil of the three dimensions realm. The layers of different stones pass through the vital essence of the two adventurers. They experiment the impossible. They are fused with the infinitely small. The quintessence of each of them is intercalated to the one of Gaia and the trip in its center creeps in between the matter.

The magic of the multiverse’s watcher is the guidance as they progress in the Gaia’s womb toward their enemy, Arachnéida. Sometimes they pass through areas, openings without rock. These regions are inhabited sometimes by races unknown to their original minds. But the Transfiguration of Arachnes bears fruit. Knowledge and intrinsic magic of the Dark Elves are now circulating in each micro-molecule of their beings. This journey in the core of Gaia is to prove it.

Another antechamber is discovered by the two travelers. From the Ceiling riddled with amber crystals, their ghostly body emerge from the solid rock and slip into the air levitating down. They recognize a breed that has never set foot on Gaia’s surface: the duergars. The size of these creatures does not reach the knees of a human. Small, but almost as powerful as their cousins dark elves, loyalty, honor and integrity of the duergars do not save them from slavery. Here they extract these crystals for their masters and dream of freedom. Then, Ditratos cast a telepathic link to Yuna: These duergars will  turn soon a page in their history. Our plan will help them to do so. But it is much wiser for us to act in the invisible, thank you Yuna. By our humble gesture overshadowed by your fairy magic, the honor of a race is saved. Fairy fair lady, your veil of invisibility assures us success.

Oh! She thinks. I like to save my privacy. This is a fairy’s concern lying dormant in my Arachne’s body ... Beware, Ditratos, I feel the presence of some Arachnes not far, probably in a cave nearby. Protect well your telepathic links, dear friend. Here, discretion is crucial.

Still together, the invisible descent continues amidst  prison like natural crystals. Again, the watchers are intrusing themselves in the subterranean mass around them. That's it, think Yuna, in few cubits, I will test my charisma on my peers. Here I cease the invisibility. This way I won’t insult these Arachnes.

The extrusion is performed again, but this time in total visibility. The bodies of the two companions materialize in the ambient air, extirpating themselves without pain from the telluric mass. As two bodies emerging from water, our friends are living the extrusion with nonchalance as true inhabitants of the Inner Meanders.The sight in front of their eyes is breathtaking. Yuna and Ditratos are levitating in the upper area of a fault which extended on both sides. Here is an aura of power and authority that affects Ditratos’s etheric body very hardly.

He knows that the success of their mission now rests on Yuna’s charisma. Levitating above a bottomless chasm, he knows that here is where the destiny of Gaia’s civilizations. The magician sees other male dark elves in suspension here and there. They are other servants waiting for any need from their Arachne.

Yuna ceases from levitating and bravely spreads her demon like wings. With One last wink at her friend and she is gone, hovering toward darkness which host thousands of cubits below. His friend disappears, swallowed by the void… He looks up slowly at these puppets hanging in the emptiness, like himself, they wait, simply ... while his stomach is tied to ... just ... at the mercy of the fragile and reckless plan, to outflank the queen of the Dark Elves on her own ground. If the operation of the two friends is successful, Arachnéida will abandon its plan to invade the multiverse. But here, suspended in inaction, he hopes foe some news from his little companion. By all existing mysteries, I feel so lonely here without my beloved.

This thought is escaping from his heart! Ditratos is taken by surprise ... His heart toggle, suspended over the unknown. A self-confident smile clears the anxiety off  his ebony face because a strength inhabits him now. Ditratos falls for a fairy suspended over the unknown, but not like a puppet. He looks at the other silhouettes standing still above the emptiness and he is still smiling: To fall in love, this idea does appeal to me... suspended at my heart.

At this thought, Ditratos recalls instructions from the Fairy: Protect your beautiful elfic eyes with my home-made medicine cream. Believe me, my dear, I hide a brilliant surprise to our guests.

To be continued in the chronicle of the Mirror, part XI.

NOUVEAUTÉ, SUIVEZ-NOUS LIVE!

René Gratton, bien connu ici comme Renatus, votre chroniqueur du multivers

se joint à Patricia Boisvert, musicienne du Sensible et conteuse
pour vous offrir le Duo Patricia & René.

Nous vous invitons à venir nous rejoindre sur facebook

pour connaitre l'horaire et lieux de nos prestations et plus,....

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Chronicle VII of the Pleiade's Daughters

Chronicle VII of the Pleiade’s Daughters ( Cheetah’s Queen)

The green valley is well known by any body seeking for advice, wise guidance or merely to request the help of these mysterious inhabitants who could guide the visitor to consult the seeress, the wild Cheetah’s Queen. Located farther south from the Yew-Trees Realm, the green jungle is well remote. Crowned by high rocky mountains eternally keeping their summits bathing in windy and snowy cold environment. It is a no man land indeed, except for these humans driven by a powerful need to know where they are from and where their destiny draw them.

« Well, well!...Cold as the kiss of a snake. » Cailla says to himself.

He finds shelter in between two boulders of rock, taking his breath back and listening to the couple of prime giants, the only living creatures able to survive at this cold snow realm. He waits for them, anticipating already the encounter with a confidence smile. Silently, Cailla reach back the entrance of the rocky wall shielding him from the blizzard. He hears feet beating at the thick layer of snow. Their silhouettes finally appear in the white mist of snow shower. The tall figures are closing quickly, with their long strides, agile and graceful despite their gigantic mass. More then five times the height of the human waiting for them, they seem unaware of Cailla’s presence, since they don’t care to be vigilant. They stop like statues when they hear from the crevice :

« Blessing, brothers of the win! »

On their surprised face, a large smile stretches out with their eyes all wet in recognition of the old friend long time ago departed from their clan. One of them responds :

« Tiny brother Cailla! What a warm surprise seeing you back, our loyal Guardian of Life… How come are you here, far from your Yew-Trees Sacred Forest? »

While the white giants are friendly expressing their pleasure with hugs, we hardly see Cailla almost swallowed by these furred arms, chests and thick necks. As a reflex of true friendship, Cailla finds himself comfortably sit on their both arms extended, holding each other by their shoulders, looking at their tiny friend, while they walk easily with long strides on the surface of the white ocean of snow. Muted by some gusty winds, Cailla catch up with his giant friends, pure inhabitants of the white peaks crowning the realm of Cheetah’s Queen. After few hours of march, it is amazing to follow these tall furry children of the snow realm passing through the white veil of snow without any lack of confidence. These snow-brothers are one of a kind. They know well all the rocky folds, crevices, caves and shortcuts heading down the greeny valley of the prestigious seeress and her feline companions. It doesn’t take long, despite few disappearances in the core of the mountains, to find our three friends standing in front of the jungle contrasting with the white crest of eternal snow.

A warm wind blow its aromas of exotic plants. A green tapestry is covering all vales, cliffs and hills. Here and there, waterfalls stretch their white ribbons of long life carriers in between some virgin summits.

« Well, my tiny friend, there we are, you at the door of your destiny and us… »

« And you both are at cross-roads in your life! Did you ever consider to see where you go with your life? What is waiting for you ahead of all possibilities? Despite the fact that you are already that far down in the valley, don’t you see an opportunity to look from a different angle at what life is offering to you? I would suggest you to jump on this extraordinary sign shown only to you both, here, now, since you are ready… to do so! »

Cailla has his way with his giant companions. They look at each other while their tiny wise man unfolds a new reality in front of them. Perplex and confused at first, their furry eyebrows change slightly their angle and shift gradually over eyes sparkling with curiosity, excitement and amazement. Their long hairs covered faces radiate a kind of youth effect not felt since they were together, with Cailla, at the Great Tribes Gathering, few thousands Moons ago. Cailla knows that he is just playing a sensible string on the two white giants. Cailla remember well, when the greatest Tribes Gathering has been called by the Sacred Sisters, the loyalty manifested by these creatures of the snowy summits.

« CHEEEKREEETEYYYACK! YACK! YACK! »

Protecting his ears with his two palms, Cailla is glad to embrace the wave of sound. An echo reflects the happiness shout of his giant friends. The mountains seem to answer back their gratitude.

« So… May the wisdom of the rocky mountains guide our strides towards our destiny! » Saying these final words, Cailla takes the lead and climbs down with an agile grace. « Ah! It is good to feel the snow free land again! Lets have a little exploration of the most intriguing corner under the Pleiade’s Daughters’ protection : Cheetah’s Queen’s Realm. »

***

« My queen, the signs have been seen! The long hairs giants are walking among our brothers Trees. Sister jungle is guiding the intruders toward your Sacred Standing Stones. By the sunset, they will reach the Star field Vault. » The feline face lifts up her chin and then only, he opens his cat eyes on his venerated Queen.

« Rrrr. Rrrr. Rrrr… » As the Cheetah’s Queen purrs thoughtfully, she adds : « It is indeed unanticipated seeing those guardians so far away from their cold and white tapestry. Let me meditate a little… Rrrr. Rrrr. Rrrr… I see! Are they alone, acting like lost souls? »

« Yes, my High Sacred Mist’s Miss. They are all by themselves, lost amidst our roots and marshland. I told you, High Seeress, it’s a sign! The great changes are taking root in our realm. The Awaken Strider will follow soon! »

« I am sorry to disappoint you, my dear Priest of the Foreshadows Order, but my visions show me otherwise. For instance… »

Suddenly, a blur appears in the air between the Queen and the Priest, cutting short the Seeress out of her breath. A human figure is taking shape in a spiraling vortex.

« Sorry to interrupt this private conversation of yours. I humbly bow low before your sacred meeting and forgive me for my brutal, unexpected and intrusive behavior. » Says Cailla, calmly.

A smile and a spark of light in her eyes is the only answer from the Queen Oracle, except a short purr is heard when she bent her body forward, pulled by curiosity.

« IDENTIFY YOURSELF AT ONCE, STRANGER! » Order loudly the Priest in an offensive stand, pointing his dagger toward the unknown visitor.

« Calm down, my friend! Here stands your prophecy. Don’t you see or are you just seeing what has been written eons ago. Be here, in sight of the present instant, like the cheetah is at his prey. » Says the feline woman.

« Yes! I am your present, but I need to consult the gift of yours, my venerated seeress of the wild. » Cailla adds on, ignoring the dagger pointed at his chest.

With grace and slowness, the Queen lays her back on the wooden throne and lifts her left hand to temper at distance the nervous priest. She opens her sensual lips :

« So, my dear Cailla, you need guidance to secure your steps on your path? »

Cailla nods with respect while he is following the inviting gesture of the seeress to proceed and walk behind the curtain hanging behind her throne. A quiet roar coming from the shadows of the royal seat reveal the feline presence of the Queen’s familiar; a graceful wild beast well tuned to his misstress’s mood. The cheetah’s fluid moves are in harmony with the majestic bearing of the mysterious seeress.

The corridor is quite narrow and few flickering lanterns enhance the Queen’s golden skin shown sometime through the majestic cape and the exotic garments in the hue of forest green and amber earth. Different air currents carrie spiced aromas mixed with the sound of some smooth and fluid rhythms from far drums. It is showing well the underground complex network of tunnels, cave, vaults and corridors of the Cheetah’s Queen realm. While Cailla is following the mystic woman, he cannot help but let his eyes flow along the feminine curves easy to visualise with a glimpse of desire. He doesn’t see her face blossoming with attracting passion. She knows well what is going on and what is drawn in her own near future. Prophecies are revealed by many signs, like her High Priest said and she is accepting all consequences.

She stops and turns her head towards the stone wall. Her hand touches few carved symbols and right away the illusion spell vanishes and the true seeing reveals an opening warmed by a sweet current of air swirling in nostrils like a soothing caress. Cailla reacts calmly and respectfully to her sparkling glance and both know their destinies are about to become one.

***

In the meanwhile, two furry friends are in the middle of a strange stone arrangement. Seven standing stones are circling the two giants. Soaking in their own sweat, they keep their eyes sparkled with admiration looking at these stones carved with strange signs and symbols half buried by the vegetation stretching roots and stems along the stony surface. One of the Yeti shakes his head sprinkling a mist of sweat in the warm air and says in one breath : « Before he disappeared, what said Cailla again? »

No answer is heard from his companion yet, except a tin wind breathed out through clenched teeth. Both giants are looking at each other showing a little perplexity in their glances. Each of them knows what meant their tiny friend before he took a short cut through the Ether land. Cailla’s voice is echoing with what they gaze at : « BE VIGILANT AND WALK STEADY EVEN IF YOU SEEM LOST. JUST WALK WHERE YOUR STEPS GUIDE YOU. THE SEVENS WILL CHANT THEIR SECRETS IN TIME. »

Here they stand, far from their comfortable windy peaks and refreshing pure white snow. But then, a spark of curiosity lights on in their eyes. They are driven by a new force and they start to run from stone to stone recognizing the signs… the same lines, curves and dots carved in their far mountains. They remember the common message written in the core, in the heart, in the cold clear quartz of their sweet home. The mood of both guardians is lift up by joy and a sense of deep meaning in their life. In a silent and secret link, both consciousnesses are awaken as one with their mutual tiny companion of life, Cailla, the Consciousness Traveler. In a perfect triangle, all three of them are in the same radiance. Here and now is the only reality. The time is the witness of what is in the making now. Here is the space and time shifting, enhanced by a new link passing by all three hearts and souls.

-Here, in the core of the jungle, stand Cailla and the Seeress, Cheetah’s Queen.

-Here, in the core of a forgotten realm, stand two snow men, guardians in the realm of eternal snow, finding themselves in a remote environment, pushed to their limit of endurance, facing an alien reality freeing their inner selves from their routine.

-Here, a blend of realities makes all destinies melting together on the same path of enlightenment.

-Here is the extreme experiment of the being/soul freed from the chains of these four bodies accomplishing a mission of life in a timeless game of lives after lives.

-Here stand four futures giving birth to all essences of life breathing the four winds of the North, South, East and West.

EPILOGUE

All these memories taking roots in the heart of the jungle are still full awaken in the mind of the two snowmen. They are back in their windy, cold realm with this enhanced consciousness. Now they know and feel the close presence of their tiny friend Cailla. A link has been created in between them. All three are therefore reunited in the web of destiny shown by their Seeress Queen.

Cailla is walking up the path leading toward the Sacred Yew-Trees Forest. Never more he will walk alone. His Yeti companions and the feline Cheetah’s Queen walk beside him despite the distance, despite the print of time, despite their different race.

Cheetah’s Queen is contemplating the sun rising over the misty jungle. Her glance is dancing along the silhouettes of the rocky peaks crowning her green valley. A spark of tear slides along her cheek and a surge of pure joy is taking its flight all the way up her spine, like a winged snake freed from his loneliness. Nevermore she will feel this solitude again. For now… a new mood is taking a stand in her heart. She knows well that her destiny is leading her in a new realm, warmer then any corner of her jungle. She knows that love is born, like an egg crackling open in the secure nest of her soul… Cailla’s seed may find his way now, since she embraces her destiny.

The end of Chronicle VII of the Pleiade’s Daughters.

Soon… the VIIIth will be revealed!

Renatus, your chronicler.

Author’s note : If you want to know more about Cailla and his previous adventures, follow him in the Chronicles of the Pleiade’s Daughters.

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Chronicle VI of the Pleiade’s Daughters

« I am talking about a time where all the stars are shining like diamonds in a sky fed with life taking the shape of God’s dreams. Yes, by then, our Mother-Earth is still young, at her first attempt to give birth to a new race, a new incarnated promise, a new hope. Star seeds are flowing in their veins like shimmering fishes swimming in the Great River of Life. »

The story-teller keeps his eyes shot and let the wind fulfil his nostrils like a soothing touch from the Ether land manifested in each fiber of life. All his body is echoing at the Divine Presence calling again as an inspiration behind each word, wrapped with emotion, aimed at each heart, each soul, each inner child spellbound by his performance. With the grace of a swan, the story-teller blooms open his eyes, arms, heart and soul and sings his wonders floating in the air through all these invisible bridges built up to let pilgrims of stars be lifted again by the magic essence of the story.

« Here at my side, behind a veil of invisibility, stands the Lady Queen of the Pleiade’s Daughters : Maïa. She is paying a visit to you, children of the stars, and is here as an observer. While her actual body is far deep in the ocean of life called the universe, her extended link is using a kind of path, set by some Divine Dreams that we call SHORES OF THE DREAM LANDS. By this state of consciousness, our Queen stays connected to us and walks beside our own dreams and is a witness of our reality entirely created by each of us. You, listeners and I, the story-teller, are linked together on these Shores touching the Divine Dreams. »

The story-teller, his eyes and arms wide open, embraces the world around him, the invisible one and the visible one, in a same rhythm, the chant of divine waves is caressing all the hearts and souls gathering on the Shores of Dream lands. In a voice harmonised with the song of tiny stones and shells dancing over the wet sand, the story-teller concludes :

« As at the dawn of Mother-Earth, as today, here, under the cover of the giant Yew-Trees… As in the future, when humanity will be kept in an illusion built on fear and power, we are enhancing, together, a time-line of infinite possibilities. »

With his head lightly bent forward, the story-teller takes a deep breath and let his ocean blue eyes scan the group of fervent listeners. He knows that the time has come to reveal the hidden. A smile slowly stretches on his face at the thought popping in his mind. The Pleiade’s Queen is pushing gently her telepathic link, enhancing strongly the creative power of the Consciousness Traveler. The atmosphere is colored with anticipation when his voice vibrates in the air :

« Our Queen has spoken, here and now is the perfect rendez-vous. » From above his head, a fountain of rainbow colours sprinkles like a wonderful firework.

« As seasons gliding over our head, as the moon touching our inner ocean, as the sun sending his warming light, as the bird singing at your heart, as a child creating a smile on our face… we are all interacting with each other as one gesture of Grace, Joy, Kindness and Beauty. These last states of being are totally free and may flow in your veins like brooks of fresh water in wild mountains. On this path blessed by your smiles blooming beside the road of your life, you become as beautiful as flowers showing their naked simplicity so miraculously divine. Our pleiadian Queen shows us the direction. She came back on my side from this far cluster sparkling in our Taurus constellation to tell you where to aim your arrow. »

The Consciousness Traveler is so radiant in his garment made up with exotic accessories. He is acting like a bow man focused on an invisible target in front of him. As a real piercing weapon, each person attending at the storytelling feels a sharp spark in their chest. Their heart is touched once more. That is why so many peoples of all ages are attracted to these moments of wonders and warm heart soothing.

Satisfied and nourished by his Queen’s complicity, the story-teller smiles and backs up in a blur of the seven rainbow colours spiraling from where he was standing.

WOUUUSH!

As usual, the Consciousness Traveler did step again in an other alternate plane of the multiverse.

The end of the Chronicle VI of the Pleiade’s Daughters.

Renatus, your chronicler.

Chronicle V of the Pleiade's Daughters

The children of the forest are gathering at the dawn of a new day gifted by an other visitor from a realm far, far away. At the top of the cascading brook, the huge standing stone is the favorite area where an other story will be told. Our story-teller is known to appear with the rays of the sunrise and with the early birds singing the joy to be alive. With these rays of golden light, with the arms lifted in a cross shape, our witness of the hidden consciousness standing in the morning air. Then, the story-teller takes a long breath, closing his eyes, he lets his essence fly with his words :
« In the icy winds of the high sky, where the blue hue is mixed with sparks of stars on a tapestry colored with dark blue, the two mythic creatures are hugging each other with their arms while their wings keep their full length stretched in the windy caress. The draconic embracing lovers are standing tight together in a nice dance with aerial lightness, where the grace of their shapes are locked in a timeless moment with intimate sounds radiating from their chest, neck and nasal cavities. Their eyes of fire stare at their reflected soul in perfect union. Here, in a total fusion, their dynamic of male and female essence is forgotten in a present offered by their love. One with the wind of the sky they dive in, they pierce some time a layer of cloud. »
The story-teller poses his feet with grace in the shape of a V up side down. He stretches his arms over his head to show his hands imitating the two mythic creatures in their free dive towards the ground.
« In a vertiginous speed, the two intertwined lovers let their body and mind surrendered in this blessed instant of true love. The far surface of the earth is closing fast and soon, the dive is becoming a momentum of faith at their instinct of survival. But more likely, their faith lays on their love which is their only nutriment at this very moment. The magic and its mighty power is flowing all along their veins and nerves. Mother-Earth’s deadly surface is at a micro instant of the two passionate beings. The time seems to stop for them. Their glances, their hums, their caresses, their intertwining tails… both as one, their senses, their hearts burning with love and enlightenment, all of their essence is transmuted in one flash of light and thunder. A big bang is heard with a lightning strike of pure chemical reaction in one reality, one state of consciousness with the Source, with Mother-Earth… becoming all one. That is why the magnitude of their acts is so in perfect harmony with the micro matter of their Mother, in fusion with their 5 elements, in reunion with their common inner structure, in voyage through the Ether space in between all mass of matter. »
The story-teller is rocking his body, hugging himself with a passionate tenderness with his two arms across over his chest. His large robe of Consciousness Traveler gives contrast on his hands laying on his shoulders. A golden ray of morning light flicks on him while two swallows fly around his head, singing their love, joy and kindness. The flight of the birds draws an 8 over his head. Looking up at his winged companions, he knows the sign of their presence. Suddenly, he shouts loud :
« Oh! Great Dragons, Guardians of the celestial portal of the seven Pleiade’s Daughters… Oh! Great Mystic Lords, messengers from the Inner Earth, you carry with you the universal wisdom… and with an astonishing speed, both legendary creatures hit the rocky surface! »
Shouts of dismay get out of mouths twisted in denial, horror and pure frighten shrieking young voices. The story-teller emphases all the mood as he let himself dive over the ground like a lifeless leaf. But, an heart beat later, he jumps back on his feet, in a ready position and slowly lift his arms over himself :
« A loud shock wave of blue light and a rumble are radiating from where the mythic duo literally disappear from sight. But despite what it seems, for magical beings, the reality is far more extended then what is shown. »
As a true descendant of his mother queen Maïa, the story-teller uses his stars heritage and let flow the inspired words :
« In many slices of lives to come, you will all, children of the stars, rely more and more on your inner instinct to act through the very essence of all realities. The true believing on your inner powers will open doors where a wall of stones stands. The free expression of Love will enlight any darkness hiding the immortality of your soul. »
Like a snake snapping in the air, all the body of the story-teller reacts from the discharge of draconic essence and he dances at the inner rhythm beating in his veins. In fusion with the remembrance of the two mighty legendary dragons, he spits his words in a chant harmonized with life itself freed through all planes of the multiverse :
« From my inner, I spell out the Sleeping Magic…From the inner Earth, psalms of symbolic signs spring in life and take flight in our dreams… From our human essence, eons of anger and frustration are transformed by the fire of change where the air carries words… like sounds from songs of birds. »
It is at this moment that the story-teller stops like being hit by an invisible wall…and disappears from all naked eyes glazing at the empty place left underneath the stars hidden behind the veil of the blue sky. All the children attending lift their head and look in silence at the inspirational Source of their beloved and Consciousness Traveler story-teller… the one who will never fail to tell an other page of the Chronicles of the Pleiade’s Daughters, since it is his reason to live.

End of the Chronicle V of the Pleiade’s Daughters.

Renatus, your chronicler.

Chronicle IV of the Pleiade's Daughters

All the valley is hidden by the smoke spreading out from different points where sylvan villages are burning. A morbid silence is the burden of the wing of death hovering in the shape of a menacing gray cloud trapped in between the stones wall mountains.

Once, this valley was a peaceful retreat for the monks, guardians of the Flame of Life. Here was a sure and secluded corner for all pilgrims from the four winds of this northern land. But the Flame of Life has been stolen by invaders.

The night is crawling in through the eastern rocky white teeth crowned by eternal snow. In the center of the forested valley, a small area has been ignored by the dark servants. This area, known as "The Prime Willow Tree". This area is invisible to the evil eye but a beacon of Light to the pure heart. The prime wise tree is the mother of this evolving forest. The Divine Consciousness of the Old Wise Mother Tree is in total communion with her pure children: Sacha the Unicorn, Mirhillia the Fairy, Phoenatus the Knight Guardian (actually a shape shifter also called by his wild friends the Inky Bear).

With their small army of pure hearts and souls, they wait for the call of faith. Laying their back on the enormous trunk, they all harmonise their pulse of life with the one of the Sacred Willow, their Mother Tree, their source of power that will be unleashed in a moment. Like a ring of protection, a large body of water surrounds the willow. Underneath the surface, Osirian the Nymph is busy with all water spirits. They spread their power among the underground life throughout a huge sponge of interconnected tunnels and worm holes, like the inside of a bone. The empathic link in between Mother Tree's roots and Osirian is the main advantage of all these defenders of life. In the twinkling of an eye, an armada of water spirits is created.

The tribe chief of the creatures from the shadows is overexcited by the results of the attack. The victory has been easy, without resistance. He is looking at his warriors showing already a frenetic fever of vanquishers. Time is at hand to celebrate. It is smelling good. All these villages are burning but one thing is missing: The pleasure to see fear in the eyes of the vanquished, since there was nobody to embrace the fury of the shadow warriors. And the chief thinks:"Where are the famous Dryads who would be shared with luxuriance and pleasure in between the legs of my soldiers? Where are these Faeries who could amuse our children with their cut off wings? Where is the queen ambassadress, the nice blond Nymph Osirian saved for my own privacy, chained to my couch receiving my seeds of victory?"

A deep tremble distracts the military chief and he turns back towards the camp, where a thick wall of mist crawls in between the trunks and the giant ferns. Suddenly, screams are heard from the gray fog, with no sound of irons or shields smashing on each other. All these veiled men at arm fall in a last terror scream, defeated by death without honor, alone in the gray realm of lost souls.

The chief lifts high his long sword in front of his forehead with a grin at his face to show his fearless glance, trying to pierce the thickness of mystery surrounding him. The quiet calm becomes unbearable. Pearling down on his forehead and temples, a dew of fear slides down on his dirty lizard skin in steady flow with the rhythm of his heart beat overwhelming all his senses in a storm of fearful squeezing grasp at his throat. He feels the last grain of sand passing behind his dry tongue. His hour glass is emptying and he knows that his devious horned god has abandon him here, to die alone in a mist of silence, with no slave to fear his victory.

The swift attack emerges from underneath and the roots becomes traps holding his ankles. With a blank momentum, the sword hit the air frenetically in a swirl of mist. With a telluric power the Sacred Forest swallows him as quick as a lizard tyrant of the wild. Loosing the grip on his sword, his claws hit deep the green carpet of the sylvan temple. Catching two hands full of useless humus, he feels the cold water reaching at him under the forest floor. Taking a last breath, he knows that water will submerge him soon and WHAM! In the aquatic land he dives in, opening his eyes on the ultimate reward of his conquest: Osirian herself is standing in the weightlessness of the greenly waters with her sensual hairs floating like a dancing murena and welcoming the brave reptilian warrior. A last smile drawn on attracting lips disappears in a cloud of red blood bersting around. The soldier sees well the impact of the lethal ray of Light radiating from the Osirian's chest. Piercing like a lance, the rays open the flesh of his body and he feels well the last bliss of the Light Carrier. Osirian lays a last glance to her enemy mixed with hope and faith. Slowly the reptilian's vision becomes gray and the lightness of his soul is felt again, on this cross over path where your destiny has an appointment with your immortal soul.

An empathic wave comes from the inner forest.

The Prime Willow Tree trembles when a fresh wind caresses her leaves in a sign of a new era. All present souls reunited at the base of her trunk are looking at each other with a real feeling of relief. The enemy has been dealt with. All these thousand of invaders have been embraced by Mother-Earth. The unification of the evil souls with Nature’s Spirits has been successful. The Pilgrims of the Light may come back from the portals of the Pleiade’s Daughters.

Sacha, the Unicorn, approaches Phoenatus the knight. They both lay their flank on the skin of their Mother-Tree and hear back the new rhythm of life surging from the heart of their Source. Unleashed from this new fusion of souls from the shadows, Faeries and Wood Elves are back again in their sylvan domain. Dancing lights announce a lot of changes in the air. Regenerated from an unexpected source, the valley will open her green branches towards the sky. From the summit of the rocky mountains some shape shifters are already on their flight,, gliding on the warm stream of air. These are the prime Druids in a mission of total blessing of the Sacred Forest. The marriage of the evil souls with Nature Spirits has been successful.

Now is a time for celebration in a  recognition of the powers at stake. The Druids shape shifters may repopulate the green realm of the valley. Now the males may lay their seeds in their Sacred Wombs, guided by the new Light of Nature Spirits. A season of peaceful growing may blossom in a deep wave of echoing memories from eons of creation, transformation, alteration, innovation… where nothing is lost and everything is created. The night sky may offer his mantle to the milky way. The bright stars may shine like diamonds. The lady Moon may circle on her path through the night, in a complete blessing, harvesting any signature of any resilient energies left behind. The grid of power may root itself in the core of each Singing Cristal left as seeds, in Mother Cybellia’s Sacred Womb, eons ago.

THE END

Author’s notes :

The story-teller is comfortably sit on the main branch, at the core of the foliage, in the arms of his Mother-Tree. He rolls back his parchment and touches his chest with the palm of his hand and with the wind he disappears since he is as light as any dream. In few moments, this incident of the attack of the shadows is just an other  event of the past where he will come back in full consciousness to tell his tale to the inner children of the future.

Good-bye, loyal reader.