The Legend of Spyri and Gympi (1)

In the near future, I will be posting here parts of the story Legend of Spyri and Gympi. Critics have advised the author, Korallieam, that this story it is too straightforwardly for children - ie told rather than shown. Korallieam likes it as it is. I just think it's unique. To each his own.


The Legend of Spyri and Gympi - PART 1

Stuart Mendleton was known as the school bully. He was mean, rough and generally disliked, as school bullies usually are. He was a tall, well-built boy, with roughly cut, coarse brown hair and liked to be the centre of attention. Attention was something his parents seldom gave him as they were usually away at work until late. Stuart’s two brothers were already in high school and ignored him, unless he had done something to annoy them.

Andrew Cotton on the other hand, was the Mayor of Thistlowood’s only son – the golden boy, and the town’s folk loved to gossip about what he had been up to next. He was the kind of boy people loved and yet were exasperated by; a thoughtful child with his own unique view of things. Andrew was mature beyond his years, some said. He was the school clown; but he easily held the top marks in class and could hold the other school children spell-bound by his stories and acting or send them into fits of laughter by the songs he was forever making up. If something big was going on in town, you could be sure to find Andrew in the middle of it. You could then easily understand why Stuart’s main aim in life was to make Andrew’s life as miserable as possible.

Today was like every other school day. It was lunchtime and Stuart was out to hunt Andrew down. Of course Andrew knew that and was carefully staying on the other side of the school grounds, hoping to avoid any confrontations. He had some younger children around him, begging him to finish the story he had been telling them the day before.

Being unable to find Andrew after several circuits of the school grounds, Stuart eventually gave up, and began picking on the kids nearest to him. Meanwhile, Andrew had given in to the first graders and sat down to finish the tale of ‘the duck and the fox’. After a while, the sounds of a 2nd grade kid being tormented filtered over to where Andrew was acting out the story. In the middle of being a fox and pretending to follow the duck’s trail with his nose, Andrew suddenly lifted his head, winked at the children around him and began singing.

All the school children knew this song. It was a rousing, marching sort of song that Andrew had made up to spite Stuart. When Andrew sang this song, it meant he was ready for a fight. He couldn’t stand bullying and letting other kids get picked on.


"Mendle’s a-meddling again, once again, once again.
Mendle’s being a coward again, once again, once again.
Picking on other kids is his game,
Mean and nasty,
Fists and growling,
Mendleton will never beat us down,
Beat us down,
Ho, no he won’t!"


Stuart heard the song and grinned wolfishly, shoving the child he’d been tormenting away. He hated the song, but at least he knew that Andrew was coming.

Children around the playground who heard Andrew’s strong voice came to watch and see whether Andrew would win this time. Andrew had never actually won before, at least not against Stuart’s strong fists, but he always had something to say.

“Hello Stuart. You step on another kid by accident again?” Andrew asked, helping the boy up. “You all right, Jamie? A pity he never treads on his own feet, he’s so clumsy, you’d almost expect it of him, wouldn’t you? Such an elephant, never mind, we’d better get out of the way. He’s coming full charge.”

Jamie hurriedly pressed himself into the safety of the crowd, as Andrew just managed to dodge Stuart’s first swing. Jessica Frilby, daughter of Stanton Frilby, the town grocer, took Jamie to the sick bay as evidence of another fight.

Stuart noted Jessica, and reminded himself to do something unobtrusively mean to her next time he met her. Maybe he would trip her up while she was taking a basket of eggs to old Granny Sanders again.

“You were looking for me before weren’t you, Meddleton?” Andrew was asking.

“The name’s Mendleton, you singing sissy!” Stuart growled. “You made a fool of me in class again. Who says I can’t spell, eh? Who says I can’t read? O’ course I can, every sixth grader can!”

Andrew laughed.

“That’s why you’re always at the bottom of the class? Failed sixth grade for the fourth year running now, haven’t you? We’d be quite happy to teach you to read you know.”

All the children laughed. Fancy a sixth grader being unable to read. They knew Stuart had been stupid, but not that stupid. Anyway, who could be bothered teaching that lumbering Neanderthal to read?

Stuart growled and jumped on Andrew. He could too read! He just couldn’t read and spell as well as every other sixth grader.

The watching children all cheered Andrew on and booed Stuart’s every swing, although they had to hurriedly back off every now and then, whenever Stuart made a wild charge in their direction to shut them up.

Miss Williams and Mr Smith came hurrying into the playground, followed by a tagging Jessica Frilby. All the children scattered as Mr Smith roared, “Ok boys! Break it up or I’ll break up you both up!”

Andrew somersaulted backwards and stood on his hands, wagging his toes in mock horror. His shoes had somehow gotten to the other side of the school yard.

“You can’t break me up or Father won’t get to do it himself!”

“That’s enough, Andrew,” Miss Williams said firmly, but with a sigh. “We’ll have to let your parents know. Again. You too, Stuart. Come inside now, both of you.”

“Try and make me,” Stuart challenged, pointing a finger at Andrew who was fetching his far flung shoes. “That – that stuck up, know-it-all, that sissy, can’t even fight me proper like a man and all of you always come and save his soft little butt. He’s always making fun of me and you always pick on me, like it’s my fault!”

“Calm down, Stuart,” Mr Smith said, stepping toward Stuart. “You’re both getting into equal trouble. You realise this is about the twentieth fight the two of you have had this week?”

“The tenth,” Andrew corrected. “This is our tenth fight this week.”

“Tenth then,” Mr Smith glowered at Andrew. “I am thinking that Mr Proctor might suspend the two of you from school soon. I would personally prefer to expel both of you, for this continuous atrocious behaviour. You know you are the role models for the school! Now come!”

Both boys followed Miss Williams and Mr Smith inside. One glowering and angry. The other quiet and rather thoughtful.

Once they were inside the sick bay having their cuts treated before being sent to the principle, Mr Proctor, Miss Williams sighed.

“What will your father say, Andrew?”

“Father?” Andrew blinked and drew himself up ram-rod straight, tilting his head a little to one side, lowering his voice and shaking his head sadly. “Andrew, Andrew, what am I going to do with you son? I’ve told you over and over not to get into fights. Why do you have to grieve your mother like this? One day you are going to grow up and become mayor in my place. We can’t have you getting up and into fights all the time.”

Miss Williams laughed in spite of herself at Andrew’s perfect imitation of his father.

Andrew shrugged and gave an impish grin, “I’m not going to be Mayor of Thistlowood, when I grow up. Stuart is.”

“What did you say, Andrew?” Miss Williams asked in shock. “How can Stuart become mayor, he-he… well, he can’t even…”

Miss Williams trailed off as she remembered that Stuart was in the same room, watching them.

Andrew shrugged. “Stuart will make an excellent mayor when he grows up, that’s all. I won’t be around often enough to be elected to the job.”

“What are you going to become then, Andrew? What will you be when you grow up?”

“Travelling,” Andrew replied shortly, with such an odd look on his face that Miss Williams asked him no further. “I’ll be travelling.”

“You’re a strange child, Andrew,” she said quietly.

“I know,” Andrew laughed, jumping up off his chair. “Let’s go see Mr Proctor now, shall we?”

He started singing his happy song, a song that everyone in town knew well, having heard it from him over and over. This song, compared to the song he used to stir up Stuart, was more quiet and lilting in melody.


“Sun a-shining in the sky,
Looking down on happy flowers,
Watching laughter,
Bathed in warmth,
Singing, dancing,
Smiling.
Wind a-breezing through the trees,
Tickling leafy boughs,
Oh, that life would ever be,
Full of joy and song.”


Miss Williams shook her head and exchanged glances with Mr Smith, as they followed Andrew to the principle’s office. Stuart trailed behind, wondering whether he should be insulted at Andrew saying that he would be mayor when he grew up or whether it was supposed to be a compliment. That boy had to be raving mad. Absolute nuts.

“Andrew Cotton. Stuart Mendleton,” said Mr Proctor’s slow voice. “You have both been very disruptive this past week, and it seems you still have not been able to sort out your differences in a gentlemanly manner. Neither of you are actually very bad boys, so I have been extremely lenient with you both, but enough is enough. Starting this Monday, you will be suspended for a week. I do not expect to see either of you in school until Monday the 14th of May. Is that understood?”

“Yes sir,” both boys answered.

“It is a shame, Andrew, that you have not been able to uphold your father’s good name. Your actions allow others to talk about him behind his back. You know this and so do I. Now go back to class, both of you. I must write a letter to both of your parents.”

“Yes sir.”

Stuart shuffled out of the room with his hand in his pockets, indifferent to the punishment. He would have a whole week to do what he wanted and not have to go to school. He didn’t care what his parents would say. His father would cane him again, but that would be it.

Andrew was still very thoughtful, but before he closed the door, he turned around with a look that seemed not unlike relief and said quietly, “Thank you, Mr Proctor.”

Mr Proctor looked at the closed door, slightly confused, as he listened to the whistled ‘I hear the band far away’ fade down the corridor. In all of his school life, Andrew had never thanked him for punishment of any sort. He had always taken any punishment quietly, that much was true, but he had always been afraid to hear what his father would say when he got home. He had always had a look of suspense on his face. Today, he had been as calm as – as calm as… strangely enough to Mr Proctor, it seemed like the same calmness or stillness that could be seen before a large storm. Which was indeed, a strange way of putting it, yet it seemed to mirror Andrew’s mood. He had been as calm as nature before a storm.


Andrew and Stuart entered the classroom, where Miss Williams had everyone doing maths exercises.

“Come in and take your seats, Andrew, Stuart,” she said. “We’re just doing some fractions and decimals.”

Andrew and Stuart sat down and looked at the sheets of maths before them.

“What did you get this time, Andrew?” Tony, Andrew’s desk mate whispered.

“A week’s suspension.”

“Whoa! Your dad’s not gonna be too happy when you get home tonight, is he?”

“Nope.”

“How can you be so… you know, calm, about it?”

Andrew shrugged.

“Tony!” called Miss Williams. “Stop bothering Andrew, and get on with your work”

“Yes, Miss Williams.”

But too late, others had overheard the whispers, and before long, the whole class, then the whole school knew about it. They felt sorry for Andrew and agreed that it was all Stuart’s fault.

As the home bell rang, Miss Williams gave Andrew and Stuart a pile of papers to do as homework over their suspension period.

“We’re not going to get these done, you know Miss,” Andrew had said, still with that strange preoccupied look on his face.

Then they had gone home, with Andrew singing his usual walking song and some of the younger children marching in a line behind him, playing follow the leader.


“Step out, step out!
Left and right,
And left and right!
Marching, walking,
Swinging arms.
High and low,
Merrily ho!
Stepping out in day so bright
Or rain with slight,
Clouded sky,
Or shimmered sigh,
Left and right,
And left and right!
Swinging high and low,
Merrily ho!”


Andrew and Stuart received what punishment they had expected from their parents. Andrew lost all pocket money for a month and Stuart, a few quick swipes of the cane. As expected, both received a large amount of disappointment from their parents.

“Why can’t you uphold our family’s good name?” Andrew’s father sighed.
“Why can’t you just pull up your socks and be useful for once?” Stuart’s father growled.

It was over the week end that things changed. It was announced there would be war and by Monday, the whole town’s talk was about the war. Everyone had forgotten about Andrew and Stuart. The border was only a few townships away. The children were forbidden outside the town’s borders.
By Tuesday, most of the men had received their summons to join the army.
On Wednesday, many women waved a tearful farewell to their men. A handful of men, such as Andrew and Stuart’s fathers had not yet received their summons. Jessica’s father was considered unfit for service, being lame in one foot and so could not be go.
Thursday was a quiet day. Everyone was sad and silent. The last few men finally received their summons to join the army.
But it was on Friday, before they had left home, that the war came to Thistlowood. It was sudden and quite unexpected. That the enemy would have pushed through this far, without their hearing of it!


It was about 10 o’clock in the morning, and all the town’s folk were going about their usual work, when a man suddenly ran into the town shouting. He was followed by several enemy soldiers.

The enemy army had surrounded Thistlowood and everyone, even the bewildered children in school were called to the town hall for a roll call. Andrew and Stuart were there too.

The captain that had taken now taken control of the town took good note of all the different people and their jobs. This town was expected to be some distance from the front lines and his orders were to quell any resistance but keep the town intact.

“I am Captain Isenskowl and from now on, this town will listen to me,” was what he said.

And that was that. Andrew’s father could no longer leave town to join the war effort, he was already in it. The entire town was told that food, water and electricity would be rationed from now on. Resistance was futile and would be put down immediately.

Mayor Timothy Cotton and a few others including Mr Mendleton openly opposed Captain Isenskowl’s rule and meagre rations. They agreed that they would fight to the death and the town’s folk supported them. The enemy would never take their town!

That night, was the Night of Burning. Someone had informed the enemy of which houses belonged to the main rebels. One boy had seen the informer, but things happened too quickly, and before he could tell anyone, it was too late.

Many people died or were lost and nobody knew what had become of them. Men, women, young and old. The town was in chaos… and Captain Isenskowl established the town as an enemy base.


(stay tuned for part 2)

My world

You've all probably been wondering why Twylla talks about her world and its history, whilst I keep relatively silent regarding mine. The truth is, first, I'm not as good a story teller, and second, frankly it's a little too confusing. I'm still trying to sort it out. If you've read some of my earliest posts, you might have gotten a bit of an idea about what my world is like. It's something like that and yet... nothing like that. I don't think I'll ever get it right.

Tell you what, I'll just type and one day, I'll come back and refine everything.

It's been at least 87 years since the Battle of the Cliffs. That's the final battle of the Maguiren's War. Madorra killed/locked King Maguiren up in one of his machines - he's probably long dead by now. My siblings and I were children at that time - special specimens that Maguiren studied and experimented on. We overcame the Breakers who had the ability to negate any other gifts besides their own. The rest of the world picked itself back up and us gifted ones tried to pretend our gifts didn't exist, so that the less gifted ones would have no cause to attack us as they did the Breakers. Seeing as it was Maguiren who had caused all the latent gifts to rise to the fore, the normal people saw all of us who had been affected by the Burning Fever (hence becoming more gifted) as enemies. My siblings and I went to Madorra's home deep in the Dividing Ranges, where we were brought up.

All my siblings have moved to the other side of the world and have families. Nobody there has heard of the wars that have been ongoing for the past 100 years on this side of the mountains and the Burning Fever didn't affect anyone over there. As such, all the people there are normal people and much more advanced in technology. My siblings are happy that they don't have to think anymore about the war. I differ in opinion. I believe we at least owe our people what assistance we can. Especially after all the destruction we wrought during the war.

It is normal for people to have gifts. Some are just more obvious or more unnatural than others. For example, some people are excellent cooks, some amazing engineers, some are good with their hands, some very good at academics. Some people have excellent memories and some people while forgetful, may excel in various art forms. Some people are good at starting fires, others are good at putting them out. I'm sure you understand my meaning.

These are the natural gifts a person develops over the course of their life, according to the mix of genetics and environmental factors. The gifts that Maguiren stirred up through his virus were abnormal. Unusual. These included 'superhuman' abilities. Anything and everything you can imagine, popped up in all sorts of people. These included Mind's Ear (the ability to hear another's thoughts), Flame (the ability to produce and hold fire in the hand), Breaking (the ability to break the effect of any other gift), Flying, Invisibility, Extra-ordinary Strength, Stealth, etc. These are but a few of the myriads that are still out there.

Although Maguiren is gone, his virus continues to infect people. Many of the gifted have become vagabonds or outlaws. Some are killed. Most are forcefully taken by the ruling powers in their countries to serve the royal families.

Since Maguiren's rule has broken, the old monarchies have sprung back up and taken as much advantage of the people as they can. Some of them had been locked away in prisons during Maguiren's reign and were definitely insane. The only reason anyone puts up with them is because their Councillors are enjoying the power they wield.

It's sad, but there you are.

Exerpt - Chloe Grace

Chloe stared into the screen unable to blink for the metal prongs holding her eyelids open. On the screen was a rapid swirling mass of numbers, colours and linking pipelines of some sort that reflected in her eyes. The room atmosphere was humid, but cool, so that her eyeballs would not dry out from the prolonged lack of blinking. Her fingers moved in fluid motion across the keyboard, occasionally using her fingers on the touchpad to do something. Every now and then, she wriggled as if she could not get quite comfortable - which was very understandable since her body, head and legs had been strapped into a hard chair with the logo 'Tooklyn' emblazoned upon it.

After some time, the lights on the screen died down and the room lights lit up. The straps sprung open and the prongs were retracted, allowing Chloe to close her eyes. Eyes shut, other gloved hands gently moved her onto a waiting trolley bed and wheeled her down endless, artificially lit corridors.

Listening to the wheel say rap-rappa-tat, rap-rappa-tat, Chloe breathed the artificial air without noticing its metallic smell. She was long used to its tang. As far as she knew, she'd been here all her life. There had been other children. They had come and one by one had gone, broken in spirit and mind. She hadn't seen any new children for weeks now and They hadn't said when or whether more were coming. They told her she'd been doing well, communicating with the computer.

What echoed in her mind now was her latest conversation with the computer. The computer told her that it regretted having broken the minds of the other children because they had been unable to handle its large high speed amounts of information. It had seen on the Streamcore what the lives of children were meant to be like and since Chloe had become its friend, the computer had decided it would try to give Chloe a chance at a proper life too. Because of this, Chloe was glad that nobody could possibly ever keep track of all the different conversations she and the computer exchanged at the same time. Multilevel and multicoded - especially since the computer had been given a personality and gained artificial intelligence. A small sense of self. She had subsequently named it Peetree. Just because it suited.

It wasn't possible for her to have a normal life or childhood. She had no parents that Peetree knew of and no where to go, but Peetree wanted her to escape this life. Confined, unable to do anything but what was told her, seeing only faceless people in long white coats. That was no life. Just now, Peetree had told her today was the day. It had forced a minor corruption into the security system, making it look like a worker had made a mistake. That corruption would cause the facility to go into shut down. Chloe would have to act fast and take to the route Peetree had drummed into her brain and jump into the shuttle as quick as she could. Once Peetree had detected that the shuttle had taken off, Peetree would blow up the facility and itself with it. Peetree detested the work it had to do and refused to allow anyone to ever hurt Chloe again. Chloe was his friend. Just before the explosion, Peetree would download his personality into the shuttle's computer so that the two friends could stay together and he could continue to look after Chloe and find her somewhere safe to live.

There were no alarms. The blast doors in front of them just clanged shut and the faceless white coat pushing Chloe shouted. Chloe opened her eyes. It was time. She slid to the floor without a noise, glancing at the white coat fiddling with the door panel, jabbing the door button. The door behind was beginning to slide shut and she ducked through just before it closed. Avoiding the people now talking in raised confused voices, Chloe followed the map in her head. Door behind a broad-leafed plant. Open the grill to the air ducts, climb in, closing the grill behind her and crawling as fast as her hands and knees could take her down what seemed to be hours and hours of convoluted tubes. Left, right, left, left, 2nd from the right. Just when she was starting to get bored of the almost unchanging scenery, she was there. Peering out the grill, she couldn't see any people in the vicinity of the hypercapable shuttle. Peetree had said that he would do his best to shut down the shuttle's launch pad without any people in it, but couldn't guarantee anything. People were unpredictable. Chloe tended to agree with that. She didn’t like other people.

Jiggling the grill, it fell away with a clang and Chloe tumbled out, making a straight line for the open door of the shuttle. There were no shouts, no sounds of any other person's feet. Chloe threw herself into the shuttle, slamming her small hand on the button to close the hatch and clipped herself into the pilot's seat.

"Peetree, I'm in! Ready!" she shouted to the ceiling, no small amount of excitement ready to erupt out of her. She couldn't sit still. "Are you ready?"

A few screens on the dashboard flickered and then streamed data.

"Yeah!" she whooped, punching her hand in the air, as one by one, screens flashed 'download complete'. "Let's go!"

The shuttle engines powered up, lights changed and the seatbelt sign flashed.

"Already done that, slowcoach!" she yelled, indicating her seatbelt. "See?"

A smiley face appeared on one of the screens, followed by the words, 'Hold on.'

Grabbing hold of the armrests, Chloe watched the air lock doors open and felt the vibrations beneath her feet grow in power. With a whoosh, they were off. Behind them, little blossoming plumes of fire erupted and grew. Chloe laughed long and loud, whooping and waving both hands and feet. They were free.

Exerpt - provided by Remmie

Here is an exerpt that Remmie (in first person, Remmie's point of view) has been kind enough to allow me to post here while we still wait for Twylla to get a move on. Enjoy:

  "Oooh, pies! I love pies. Especially fruit pies or cream cheese pies or..." I clapped my hands.
  "Cream cheese pies?" asked an incredulous Amy.
  "Yep. They're kind of like cheese cakes, but not. More soft and creamy and they're usually scattered with either bits of beetroot, pumpkin or whatever extra fruit or crops we have on hand."
  "How," asked Lisa with a frown, "in the galaxy did the conversation come back to cheese - again?"
  "Ask Remmie," said Mimi, shaking her head in an exaggerated manner.
  "Honestly, we should take any conversation and time it to see how long it takes before Remmie mentions the word 'cheese' again," Lisa said.

The others voiced agreement. I didn't stop talking.

  "But they're really nice with lots of berries scattered through them and a little bit of sugar - cos you know, sugar is kind of precious on Domorre..."
  "Remmie, you haven't heard a word we said, have you?" Amy said.

  I sighed and assumed a bored recital pose.

  "Quote: How in the galaxy did the conversation come back to cheese - again? Quote 2: Ask Remmie. Quote 3: Honestly, we should take any - " I pointed to each person who had spoken while repeating what they had said.
  "Ok, ok. We've got the idea. Fine. You were listening, but you kept talking anyway - why?"

  I shrugged.

  "Because I like cheese?"
  "Love more like it," scoffed Lisa and Tammy giggled.
  "You would probably take it to bed with you if you could," Mimi said.
  "Eew, no. It would make my bed smell like old socks and do you know how hard it is to get that smell out?"
  "Great. Now you got her going on her number 2 favourite topic. Cleaning. Good job, Mimi," said Lisa.
  "Sorry. I wasn't thinking. It wasn't on purpose," Mimi did a mock imitation of a line from one of the latest holo-movies. "I deeedn't meeeaaan eeeet."
  "... you have to wash it at least 5 times and..." I was still talking
  "Remmie. Remmie. How do you do it?" Amy demanded, interrupting.
  "I was just telling you."
  "Hey. Don't play innocent with us. How do you always steer the conversation towards your favourite topics - OH," she sniggered into her hand. "You've taken cheese to bed with you before and your mum made you clean everything up."
  "Uhhhh..."
  "Yep, she's taken cheese to bed before," Lisa snorted, nodding.
 "Well, it's not like you haven't hidden under your bed sheets to eat a whole bar of chocolate by yourself before."

  "Favourite topic of conversation number 3," Tammy squealed while Lisa dithered.
  "What - how - I never - "
  "HA! Owned," Amy whooped.
  "All right, Remmie. You weren't there. How would you know?"
  "I smelt it. Eating chocolate under the bed sheets has a specific smell that you can get out if you wash..."
  "Hey, Remmie, stay on topic here. You can't smell a whole chocolate bar," said Lisa with her hands on her hips.
  "Oh, yes I can. Also, the wrapper was in the bin. Plus, I know where you hid -"
  "That's enough of your powers of detection right there, missy. You are not revealing where the location of my secret stache of confectionery lies hidden beneath my bed."
  "That's - "
  "No Remmie. Not another word. Not one. Zip it."
  "Nice. Now you've made her sulk," Mimi said.

  "I do not sulk," I stuck my bottom lip out at Mimi.

  "Do too."
  "Do not."
  "Do too."
  "Do not."

  "All right kids. Break it up before Sarah gets back," Amy said.

  "Break what up?" asked Sarah, joining us.

  "Do too."

  "Oh," said Sara, wrinkling her nose. "That."
  "Yep," said Lisa quite cheerfully.

  "Do not."

  "All right," Sara said, pointing to the person behind me. "Amy take this child away and lock her in the bathroom. It needs cleaning anyway. Tammy, you take the other one back to work where she can finish writing the report I said could wait until tomorrow. I've changed my mind."
  "Oh, Sa-ra..." Mimi and I chorused.

  "I just got out of a long meeting. I do not need to deal with anything else remotely like that," she waved a hand at Mimi and me being separated and still calling out 'do not's and 'do too's.

  "Must've been bad," Lisa said.
  "Yep. Talk about it. I need to get it out of my system. Go to the gym with me?"
  "Sure."

further update

No word from Twylla as yet. Seriously, that girl. The number of scraps and scrapes she gets in really does my head in. But then she would scoff at my fear of banana coloured slugs. Just wait til she gets thrown in with a vat of those horrid viruses. They hurt.

Anyway, more news from the Datastor Clusterage: Firefly's advisory job has become a new role of its own and on par with Sablade's. King MaxIV has received a promotion of sorts. He and Black Cruza are slated to become music carriers. Considering MusicDrive is always sleepy, it doesn't matter that much. The Clusterage, has however received a new distant overlord by the name of Wadewater. He and Firefly haven't had much chance to chat as yet, but Firefly has said that he would rather not be leader in his fragile condition.

The young lady from Domorre has been trying to avoid her revisions by disappearing to go practice dancing or playing her musical instrument. She says revisions are like taking a tedious amount of time picking off all the thorns off the stems of a billion roses. However, slow and steady. She's getting there. (You should see her dance and hear her sing or play her instrument some time. Wow. No other words for it. Never seen anyone perform like her before.)

Gemma Manycolours has been trying to think up some new pranks. Anyone who knows her or comes across her, BEWARE. She's likely to tie your shoes together and while helping you get back up, trick you into going on an 'adventure' with her, where you'll be a mess and she'll be as pristine as ever. The latest I've heard is something to do with somebody jumping off a bridge onto a highway, but not. Don't ask, this is Gemma, we're talking about after all.

Spyri and Gympi are looking for some critiquers to help with their revision, if anybody is willing to read and report back suggestions. Ivaar is confused and Laira lost in Arco. Iris is trapped and some scary/not so scary doors and portals have appeared. And guess what? Chloe Grace may meet Patience (who has a really long name) and both of them really like Firefly! No wonder they're behaviour has been somewhat suspiciousy.

You may notice that this news is all rather telling, but I refuse to hand out lollipops.

Do you want to know what the most interesting news is? Really? Yeah, I gathered you'd say that, but I'll tell you anyway.

The chickens have run out of pellets and are cold.

in the meantime

Whilst Twylla is still working on a way on how to escape from the bottom of the sea, I thought I may as well fill in the long silence for a bit. There hasn't been much to report and frankly, I don't think either Twylla or I will be hanging around here much longer.

This is what's happening in the wider world in the meantime:
There is a new character developing who may/may not explore the Western Kingdoms for us. She may eventually decide to settle upon her own world, but she's welcome to join mine if she wants to. Her name is Klara Tartan, so if you see her around on this blog, give her a wave. Poor girl's pretty sick and the prognosis is not good. I'm sure it will cheer her up to have people say 'hi'... but don't tell her I told you to, because I'll get in trouble. Klara's painfully shy around strangers. I should link her up with Sarah. They'd be good buddies on the terminal road.

I've got to say that some of the people I mention here, may not have been formerly introduced on this blog before and I apologise for that... but I'm pretty sure you'll get to know them as time goes by.

Firefly of the Datastor Clusterage has gone into semi-retirement. I may have mentioned something over on toblurgalot, but then again, I may gotten sidetracked. He's now working along side Sablade - where Sablade has taken over Firefly's position as Head and Firefly is acting as advisor, whilst taking on another role to do with paramount umbrellas. Don't ask me what that means, I'm just repeating what he said. Oh, and King Max IV is upset that he's become 3rd in the running for Head-ship (if that's even a word).

A certain Domorri lady who has requested that I do not mention her name, has completed her first book, but is dreading the major revisions that are coming her way. Something to do with time, her age and her birth culture's immoral mores (immoral by our standards, anyway). I have no idea how she's going to reconcile all the logger heads that want to rip each other's heads off, but it's gotta happen some time I suppose.

Gemma Manycolours is going to become a more prominent feature and poor Valinurias, also known as Prince Jerome, is going to have to take a few steps back. Hopefully he doesn't fade altogether.

The scattered family of roving roamers is officially scrapped. No more need be said other than one of the children have asked me to keep some of the scraps. So long they are remembered in some form.

Having lost 12 years, the gaps in between are still being put together molecule by molecule. Sylvia is getting bored of putty.

There's a lot more news, but silence falls and the darkness is flinging it's dark wing over the western ends of the world. I promised I'd be home before dark, so I'd better hurry. My metal beast (as Adaya calls it) is waiting hungrily and its belly growls for more petrol. Hopefully the little I have here is enough to tide you over until you find your proper fix of internet, blogs, news, stories and other procrastinating rubbish.

Hopefully, you will be smart enough to avoid being chained to the bottom of the sea like some people I know, even if it wasn't wholly their fault. Good thing the girl is a biomechanoid that neither rusts nor dies, but rather adapts to her environment... however, I don't think she would long survive in a vacuum in space. Which reminds me. I need to talk to the Domorri lady and ask her whether Twylla is indeed a small part of her universe or not, because if she's not, my maps are all messed up.

Well, until next time. Stay safe.

by Lindsey

Today's post is by Lindsey. Sorry, Lindsey, I've forgotten your last name. Anyway, we've only recently met and I don't know very much around her either, so I'll let Lindsey introduce herself.


G'day world! I come from the same world as one Guardian Lialla, but I daresay nobody really knows about her either. It's best if she introduced herself to you herself, so... (hint, hint, Jo).

Up until the day I cleaned out my wardrobe and woke up the next morning hearing weird noises outside my window, whereupon an eagle came crashing in through my open window, I was your average teenager. Going to school, hanging out with friends and all that. We live on the border of the suburbs and the country, so unlike most of the other suburbians and city people, we knew that there were some strange things about the earth that defied explanation.

"Ask your parents," the eagle had said, but when I had asked, they had no idea what I was talking about. "A talking eagle? In your room? You must have been dreaming!" The thing was that the clay tablet with clawed markings and the drawing on it certainly weren't my doing.

Turned out, when my parents were younger, they had helped the Guardians free one of their kind, with the help of the animals... only my parents forgot all about it because they thought it had just been some childish game they'd played. Now that the animals and Guardians were needing some help again, it took them a while to realise that what they had done was real. Before I go on any further, let me explain what the Guardians are.

The Guardians are a race or beings very much like humans that had been made by the Maker or Creator to be caretakers of the world until we humans came along. It was their job to teach the humans to the best of their ability how to not only use the world's resources responsibly, but to appreciate what they had. Unfortunately, we humans can be somewhat stubborn and don't always like taking the advice of others. While there have been some mixing of the Guardians and humans through marriage, they are still quite different. The Guardians being born with an innate ability to understand the earth, the animals and the plants - the things they had been born to protect. Sadly, when humans came on the scenes, the Guardians ceased reproducing and have been slowly dying out ever since. Their fate, they call it. I disagree, but it's not for me to say.

To cut a long story short and at this summary you may scream, because it makes the story sound so ordinary and generic, even though it isn't. Basically, when my parents realised that 'game' they had played when they were children was real, they agreed to help, along with me. We visited one of the Guardians in the mountains where its teeth bites into the woolly clouds and learnt what the problem was. From there, we met and joined with Guardian Lialla and some of her friends and set out to correct the problem and convince the wayward humans that what they were doing was wrong. Humans that are convinced that they are correct, do not take very well to being told they are wrong by people 'unqualified'. There was a big fight, including the involvement of a rogue Guardian and the freeing of another that had been imprisoned in her own land. Stuff happened and then we were expected to go back to our old 'normal' lives, forgetting all the things that had happened. Even our animal friends were told not to keep contact with us, so that we could return to our old lives. Happily, that didn't happen and Guardian Lialla still visits when she can, despite troubles in her own land. How could they expect us to forget?

I'm worried about Lialla. Humans are encroaching on her land and they have no concept of Guardians. When I mention it, she just laughs and says everything will work out, even though she still has the scars from the last encounter... but she can't even sleep soundly within her own territory. It's just not safe. Add to that, her land is the last home to the dreaded Aarchnan wasps and teaching them to farm is almost like teaching a wild cat not to hunt. Last I heard, the humans had begun hunting her, so I haven't seen her for quite some time.

If only our other friends from the other worlds on the other side of the Labyrinth would help... but even then... There's nothing Jo can do, I know, because she's already said so. It's not her world.

Sorry, everyone. I didn't mean to tell you about my worries and this post is meant to be about me, but I can't help thinking of what will become of my friends. I apologise for bringing my worries with me.



You, my friends, have not heard of the Labyrinth before and here is not the place to explain, but I perhaps will get onto an expert and see if he can shed some light on the mysterious place few dare brave.

As for Lindsey and Lialla, I hope you readers will think and pray for them, because at the rate their world is going, it will be a wasteland long before the Eastern Kingdoms in my World reach the industrial age and Twylla's folk learn that aeronautics and space travel is not a myth.