The Kingdom of Shadows
King Frederick had again lost one of his armies in the assault on the greenlands to the North. His wife, Margareth, advised against another try, but was ignored. Men and their obsession with winning and their way of doing things, got it right a lot of times and at the same time if they only listened to their wives or even a lady advisor, some of the most gruesome mass genocide in history might have been completely prevented while surpassing the objectives by a longshot.
Margareth hated that about being a woman in this medieval time period, that woman were considered stupid and weak. Even at that time she knew there was something seriously wrong with men. Some are good, but some of the ones that aspire power and control seem to crumble quickly as a character and turn into an obsessed member of the “there is always more more” .
Margareth and Frederick had a Son. He was called Max. Bright as can be, in his early 20’s. Access to every horse, door and cellar in the kingdom. He knew expansion wasn’t always an option and that other people left unchecked become monsters that fade you in your sleep, that is what his father told him. The people that joined the kingdom of Frederick, got a simple life. They get land what they need to maintain and produce from depending on the function of it they have their job. And in the more dense settlements people connect by trade.
Trading is the common denominator of our species. We trade that’s how we establish relationships and make the entire machine run. Max had left with a lot of carts and a carriage with horses to bring a peace offering to the greens. Silk and carpets and wine and honey in trade of cured greenland shark(not because they liked it) and some other foreign goods.
The offering worked, greenlanders simply said to the complaints about the meat that it is good and that they just need to try harder.
The war ended and the trade created a dependency of each other for worth and development, of knowledge and most of all of cooperation.
Emma
Emma, an old woman living in a caretakers home, is looking over at the clock. Ever ticking. A reassuring sound where she feels the time is moving. Life sometimes feels like moving from a no to a yes. And the only thing in between is faith, to trust that it will be alright and that you will be united with your loved ones. Not on the other side, but exactly where you are.
The Trip
After the sun started falling the trip up the mountain to the greybeards concluded. None had settled for diner yet so it could be had together. The company consisted of a band of noble man and the hirelings that came for deals and opportunities.
The greybeards had a long standing reputation for producing mead. Much money could be made if they could get their recipe.
Dan, the first negotiator of the noble party, started conversation:’I hear, you live a religious life? How is that treating you?’
A greybeard answered:’It is quite a normal existence except for our rituals, sir’
‘Does it help you at all, believing in something?’ Dan Asked?
‘we all believe and yes it helps structuring that’ A now more intrigued greybeard answered.
‘It’s hard to know if it is true’ Dan replied
‘it is not about knowing, but about a direction. An action of the mind and spirit to stand open to the source’ the greybeard replied
‘but you could be deceived!’ Dan uttered
‘Ask yourself if you cannot be deceived if you distrust the source of deception’
The Crow Lost in Time
This crow flew beyond time and space, to the end of time, where it landed on a tree. The only tree around, to rest and scout about. A squirrel jumped on a branch on a safe distance in front of him and checked out her new visitor.
‘Sup’, said the crow.
The squirrel hesitated for a couple of seconds and responded: ‘whatcha doing?’.
The crow said:’ Just resting my wings here my friend, no need to be fearful’. ‘So, what are you doing here?’. The crow asked back.
The squirrel quickly replied: ‘I make sure the right acorns take root, this is not a normal tree but a spirit tree’.
‘Ah’ said the crow, ‘that makes more sense..what does it do?’
The squirrel said: ‘it seeds worlds’. The crow blinked and stared a bit at the squirrel who was moving his head around like he was trying to get all angles. The crow was exactly the same in this regard.
The crow decided to check some things: ‘what are minds like us made from?’
The squirrel replied: ‘Of water and wind, the subconscious/your body and your conscious is like the wind in the sky; the subconscious for processing and the conscious for real-time interaction’.
The crow waited, the squirrel sounded truthful.
The crow continued his conversation: ‘what about the unconscious?’
The squirrel answered without delay: ‘manifested reality’.
Slowly the crow started to feel his body again in the real world. ‘Thank you’ he said. ‘I will return now’.
The squirrel nodded and skirted of into one of the branches and the crow flew back to his partner.
13
From the beginning of time the process of master student had continued. Until one day the oldest of the Masters gave up. I cannot teach you anymore, because I have thought you to become Masters like you call me. But I am not and that I have had to see in the regular folk who thought me humility again and so I extinguish my flame for eternity and fail both as a student and a teacher, the only thing left is some dignity that lights the sky as a spark from a fire before it is gone.
End of the line
The year is 2068 Kirk walks into one of the congress rooms that has been cleared up for a presentation about the solution to humanities power demand.
An engine that could be hotter than anything else and once ignited produced power aplenty for 50 billion people. The transport was through energizing the atmosphere which would be wirelessly extracted anywhere.
One of Kirks old professors had taken the stand. He looked calmer than normal. He had a simple sweater with a couple of holes in it. It was unusual for him as he knew him as a proud teacher. He started speaking:
With sadness in my heart I must say that I cannot believe we have come to this. A centralized single powersource that we as the population grows will come to depend on. Out of laziness? Convenience? Is it science? Is it science that after a period of time when it breaks down somehow we will have the greatest crisis on our hands that we can imagine? A fate worse than hell? Or should I only be interested in the progress that can be made? What is wrong with small local solutions for power where it is needed? Isn’t that just fun? Engaging and educational? Small wind turbines, hills made to facilitate momentum carts or gyroing centrifuges in rivers. Isn’t that the only proper, responsible solution anyone should be looking at? Bitcoin can be powered by your own coal power plant for all i care. But where is the sense, the actual feel. The empathy with ourselves looking at minds that come up with this… Gentlemen, my bourbon is waiting for me at home. Have a splendid day!
—————–
lingerering shadow crystalz
A guard passed. The facility for light morphing armor completed in record time. The suit enabled soldiers to visually project any stored visual data.
A young scribe, named Lance, ran down the hallway almost crushing himself on the guard. Luckily held back by the strong hand of the guard.
The visor morphs open, it is his older sister, May. She graduated and finished training. Some of the training-principles behind the morph guard is the focus on quick consecutive actions that combine both speed, unpredictability and effectiveness. No action is action. Rest Action Rest not Action Rest Action. And obviously preferring indirect combat.
‘Sup kiddo’
‘Hey, May. Goining to the border?’
‘For me there are no borders’ may replied.
‘What about the other side?’ Lance asked suprised.
‘A nation is its people’ May said.
‘But people have stuff, and history.’
‘That may be true, but unity comes from the heart and only a little from history’ May calmly replied.
It’s no wonder, May had been training for 2 years straight since she turned 18. Almost a different species now. Lance loved her to death though. And the kind of missions were apparently very minimal in risk.
‘Catch ya soon on this side sis, whatever happens’ Lance smiled.
*CLICK*
The visor closed and the only thing Lance sees is a purple hue that was shimmering in the light wading through the large pointed arch windows of the monastery. A faint hint of lavendel Lance picked up.
She didn’t even say bye, but then a warm flash of memory came over him and a kiss from his sister he felt and a little knock to his head concluded for Lance that morph guard wasn’t a sufficient term for these units.
6 months had passed.. May arrived in a created artificial paradise at the main garden, her gloves had come off and she ran through to the main chambers towards the reptilian overlord Ani where he kept control over the commanders that ran the projection centers.
‘May, what a surprise’ Ani said when he saw her walk steadily towards the guards that were guarding their king.
‘Is it true that you have used the crystal weapon’ May asked
‘It is true, I won’t deny you I know how that goes’ Ani grinned
‘You know you are not really a king right? Or do I have to remind you that we have saved you and allowed you to recuperate until your parents returned’
‘We do what we need and we succeed because you are not smart enough’ Ani replied squinting
‘Are you trying to say you are helping us, ah it doesn’t matter anyway’
‘What are you trying to convey, May?’
‘Your older brother saved me, I don’t know when they arrived’
‘Lies! They can’t be close for at least a quarkonic cycle’ Ani’s pupils pinned
‘He said that it is really us that are the mind-mechanics and that they have decided to end their experiment’
A reptilian stepped out of a pillar and handed a small device that on touch transferred something to Ani.
‘That means I am dead’
Before Ani could flee May quickly said: ‘relax, I asked him if you could stay and he agreed and he would inform my brother’
‘I see, the information is clear. I understand’ Ani felt a jolt of pain slowly crawl through his his body
‘What is going on May, what did you do to me?’
‘Ehr.. that crystal? Not a crystal. Not your kind of crystal. It is a liquid lock that limits your ability to project yourself and to hide your biofome’
May was missing an arm. She had used her last energy, but she knew she only had to wait until her brother would rush to her aid and pick her up, so she slowly sat down and lit a cigarette looking at Ani.
The lock was not just a limiter but also contained the memories war victims of hundreds of millions of souls.
The soft glow of the moon soothed the skin of May. What a great day she uttered and she let her eyes drift across the sky. What a night huh, An?
Ani’s mind went blank.. sound went quiet and he could see shade appear out of the mist that surrounded a beautiful towering palace. Millions had gathered.
A man stepped forward and said to Ani:’tonight, you are our king and we will serve you and show you how right that can be’
Het Donkere Leger
Een paardenhoofd scheurde langs de schouder van een van de aanvoerders van het leger van de Donkerte. Een stelletjes optaters die alleen maar in het bos geleefd hadden. Dronkenschap werd al snel hun grootste vriend. Donkerte was dan ook niet meer dan een roes geworden.
Martial wist wel wat hij moest doen, maar hij likte nog even aan zijn zwaard. Niet dat hij hem raakte, want deze was perfect geslepen door de Lego Afdeling van de ruimtevaartcentrum. Dat was ook de enige manier om de openheid te bereiken. Alleen had je niet genoeg veelzijdigheid in expertise.
Plastic is in deze realiteit goedkoper dan lucht. Want alles is en was van lego. Alleen de grote Ego kon alles weer in steen veranderen wat vonkelde in het hemelvuur,.
Deze werd helaas verslagen door zijn eigen kracht en die te beminnen. En was even vergeten dat het ook bemand en bewoont moet worden gelijktijdig.
Je begint niet met schrijven maar je begint met dingen beleven, begrijpen ho maar.
FingerPluckingGood
Birds are not what you think, obviously. If you look at their fucking lives, man. Fuck you, you stupid chicks. You can eat later. I got myself as well, see tomorrow maybe.
Price
The corridor was getting emptied out from old candle stands. The soot had left black marks on the walls. Some of the finer swindles off the dayle prayers and people walking away had left their mark. Brandon has been tasked to remove them with a brazz scrubber.
Out of one of the shadows a shim seems to escape into a abandoned room. The shadow appeared to stalk one of the older members of the group.
Once Brandon gave chase he was left in an empty room. The walls seem to give of a light that he could not define the source of.
He looked right and left and center. A mirror covered with a black curtain like stained cloth gave away a spark where it was not covered.
Brandon, not knowing, caught it in his eye.
When he went to his room this night to conclude his daily activities, he caught and he found himself in a starlight like dream where a growing smell of smoke filled his experience.
A flash of a intense light put him into a realm unknown. He felt a warm presence, but could not see anyone.
Out of nothing a voice formed in his mind telling him: to meet his overseer.
The memory of the end was unclear of his experience, but he woke up sweating. He got up slowly but before he could touch the wading morning sun he collapsed bleeding out of his nose.
A stream of blood sipling into the sewers.
The good King Ani
The reptilian god Ani had finally gotten to diner. A nicely prepared lugana. Not everything was finished, but zim had always an appetite so the problem was easily fixed. Baldi, his older brother, was the ruler of some of the captured planets and had only taken the donut from the dessert table. The ship worked on the heating of spores of some of their fungus plant life.
Tall, the husband walked in on Ani and sat down beside her. We have to send backup to one of our failing planets and I think Baldi is the better choice. He is good with crybabies. Zim picked up on the conversation of his parents: ‘better keep an eye on this bozo of a brother of mine’
As soon as Baldi left Zim gave chase.
The planet doomed up from a mist of broken satellites and spaceships. Zim decided to stay behind looking for radio or other communication equipment, but the these nutters didn’t grasp any form of proper engineering.
Some time passed and Zim was still configuring the communication and data to work somehow. For fun he liked to pick up on random communication attempts of any kind.
Baldi had chosen the savior-complex as a strategy to bind and reorganize the butheads/.
He devised a plan to create a pretence of a race of bird people. To give control of the masses to the couple of bored leaders.
After 4 times getting wiped this time had to stick.
Many generation went by, even though Zim had anhilitated every single of these putry tries of his so called ‘good’ brother, more variations popped up until Rome.
Rome was different. There was a slight chance that Zim could succeed into leading the people into something for themselves. Which would attack the problem from multiple sides.
Zim saw one workaholic that was even worse than him. So tempered his juice addiction and started reading the landscape.
There were many mountains suitable to try to insert some real knowledge so one day Zim did. Some blubbering fool was easily convinced that he was god as his ‘good’ brother had implanted in the minds and hearts of the people.
Some people still had records of what happened before. They were to afraid to act on it though.
A massive collapse happened again, because of the focus on the savior. The savior-complex was born then and there.
ani
rECKtilliAns(cleanupcrew)
Tubar was coaching one of his new units to retrieve broken kids. He left a trail of red moon charts that shattered into rozez of velvet black silk after activating his jackPack. A quantum wing device that could be taking you anywehreanytime.
PLAY-time
You can’t put the wind in a box, but you can capture it in a scarf for a moment in time.
You can put the sun in a box but it will look like a disc.
When you find yourself looking out you can only sheer the horizon into a sphere, maybe it is just more emphatically empowering to think that way…
De Dark Horse
The Dark horse had Shoes made of a kind of black steel Thate most black Smiths had lost the knowhow of.
Riding the horse required specialised warriors that were resistant tot the heavy bolts and accelleration the horse boasted after heavy training and specialization to ignore any form of pain or injury and keep on going.
Any type of emotion and moral is stripped from them, until there is only action left out of the shadows without any form of moral or resistence to any type of order. Blindy trusting the order that was given tot hem no matter the gravity or kind of deed that needs doing. Some say their eyes only look like a black sheet of carbonpaper….
Packed with a special blue glass-like armor that fell in the desert, it could make arrows stop before they hit the horse or driver.
Only the show of the armorred dark horse was enough to make armies shoot into defensive strategies and retreat as a main goal.
The rider was as dark as the came and the form of the rider and horse could turn very differently almost dragonlike in appearance.
Only artificacts infused with light of goodness could make the rider disintegrate if they were stupid enough to dismount.
And another more powerfull spell such as the golden eagles that were summoned with the strongest white magic known to only a single wizard that had the support of the entire race compendium behind it.
But out of self-respect, people aka man and man-like and man alike, faced them without fear or faith in themselves and in extension their god.
The black velvet dragon king-dome paradiso
In this particular paradise the night is like a black velvet blanket that covers all memories. Walking at night means everything you did is forgotten as you go. Only you remain creating yourself from memory. For some a blessing in disguise, for others a fate worse than death as the faithless only wander aimelessly not knowing their living sleeping body from their wandering spirit. Unfortuately then the dragon drinks your soul and you wake up as somebody else every single day.
The crossroads
Johnny is a jolly guy who stays true to himself. He is not afraid to make a mistake, because in his heart, he knows he is good. That is why he is always lucky. Fate smiles on him, changing the dice in his favor as he is good to have around. Jack is an arch-demon and as you know demons are just cannon fodder. But this jack is a changer and likes to hide in minds as the idea of special knowledge. He always loses as there is no special knowledge and thus it is just a matter of time before he gets fished out when he tries someone like Johnny as he simply goes by heart and locks jack that way into a one way track into oblivion;
Art-Tech 