Athana Teaches Blae E’Kylar the Lost Art of Shape-Shifting Beside the Founta

Athana Teaches Blae E’Kylar
the Lost Art of Shape~Shifting
Beside the Fountain

Athana:
“Light years ago
I was considered a bow
Capable of losing arrows of Light
Flickering points to be caught in night’s sack
Pinpricks of radiance
Devoured by a Dark star’s
hunger . . .”

Blae E’Kylar:
“But what’s the reason for you fall?
Why have you come to this place
at this time?”

Athana:
“Can any ever know
With absolute certainty why we chose
Choose
Will choose
The things we desire?”

Blae E’Kylar:
“But why this dance?
Are you not the Angel of Mercy?
Would you ask me to wound
Would you ask me to fight
Would you ask . . .”

Athana:
“Who are you to question
That which is Divine?”

Blae E’Kylar:
“As you did?”

Athana:
Thunder
“Do you think I like this?
The question
that’s going to plague you for all time
Is this:
‘Do the players in a tragedy
Have any real choice?’”

Blae E’Kylar:
“Are you saying I have no choice
That I must seek this other out
And destroy them?”

Athana:
“It is destiny . . .”

Blae E’Kylar:
“No.”

Athana:
“You would set your hand against the Sky?”

Blae E’Kylar:
“As you did?”

Athana:
“Provoke me not!”
Then she laughs
It is not a happy sound
“You find her
She finds you
No difference.”

Blae E’Kylar:
“I could go.”

Athana:
“Where?
She will find you and she will kill you
If you do not heed my teachings.”

Blae E’Kylar:
“This isn’t fair.”

Athana:
She laughs again
“Human law seeks in vain
To impose a matrix of ‘Fairness’
On a universe that has no respect
For human law.”

Blae E’Kylar:
“I will not . . .”

Athana:
“Saying a thing
Will not make it happen.
Arm yourself or die.
That is the only real choice you have.”

Blae E’Kylar:
“Teach me.”

Athana:
“Reason wins at last.”
She places her hand on his forehead
He screams in pain
And several pedestrians pause to look
“Did that hurt?”

Blae E’Kylar:
“But this is so perverse . . .
You want me to take these forms?
What of . . .”

Athana:
“To avoid her
To attack her you must
You must fly . . .”

Blae E’Kylar:
“It seems cowardly
to strike from the air.”

Athana:
“Honor is battle is another human myth.”

Blae E’Kylar:
“I will fly away.”

Athana:
“She will find you.”

Blae E’Kylar:
“And perhaps you as well.”

the Arming of Blae E’Kylar ~ Songs of Blae E’Kylar & Khymaira

Chyfrin’s Third Exposition;
the Arming of Blae E’Kylar

Chyfrin finds the shade
In the lee of a huge bolder that rests
Half in
and half out of the water

He plays with the clouds for a bit
The day becomes clement
He pulls an apricot from his pouch

“Blae E’Kylar was skilled
in the many forms of battle
His teachers often commented on his prowess
As they rubbed healing ointments on their wounds
But he was not fireproof
After all . . .
Who is?

It was determined
By those in the position to so determine
That in addition to his training
He would require an array of armament
A few tricks to put up his sleeve . . .”

the Thunder Seed is Planted in Khymaira – Songs of Blae E’Kylar & Khymaira

Chyfrin’s Second Exposition;
the Thunder Seed is Planted in Khymaira

Chyfrin taps a rotting stump
with his oaken staff

He leans on it and looks to the horizon
“Legend has it that Khymaira
Sprang from the Earth
on the Eastern part of the planet
But current fashion has it
that she walked under the Seas
for billions of years
And she would never tell you
After all it is bad form to ask a Lady her age . . .”

He turns and there is pain in his face
“There are many differing accounts
Of exactly what she looked like.
Goat’s heads, tail’s of snake
Its all contradictory.”

Silence

“I saw her . . .
Won’t go into that . . .”

He rubs a scar across the back of his left hand
A kind of distracted gesture
His mind elsewhere

“I saw her and she had two heads
The head of a dragon and the head of a Lion
And this is the part that confuses the Dickens
Out of so many
The lion head had the mane of a male.
And the mane was made of snakes.
Now you wouldn’t see both heads at once
There was always this nebulous haze
About her features
And suffice it to say
That if she thought a dragon head was in order
Then she could bite like a dragon
If she felt a lion was necessary
Then she would roar.”

He walks to the edge of the water
Contemplates the reflections there
Strikes the water with his staff
The sky suddenly starts to cloud

“What posses the Powers That Be?
Why would such be created
Seems somehow cruel . . .
She was the only of her kind
And she was lonely.
You see she had a fire inside her . . .
A thunder in her heart.
She wanted . . .
Longed for . . .
Needed . . .
Another of her kind
And the fire would come blasting from her mouth . . .
It would sound like thunder . . .

I am certain the sound of that thunder drove her
Often to the brink of madness.”

Silence

He sits beside the lake
And the tears from the Sky
Mix with his own

the Song of Blae E’Kylar

It is said the arrow of love seeks your heart
But in Truth there is no aim
There is no time
There is no arrow

There is only your heart

Dodecaverse – the Creation of 12 Space

The PSI Wars of 2011
ripped several holes in the 12 adjacent membrane universes
(You don’t remember the Wars?
Of course you don’t)

The Rue Mong Convulsion is the only tear that didn’t fully heal
The only of the transjunctures that allows for cross observation
Shadows of perception slippage have been documented
(The records are held in security on Alvon Ceti
but don’t waste time trying to access this data)

Some Mythologies Bleed through the Cracks of 12 Space

On the Question of Exact Intent ~ L’Serec & C’Ylondre

The air is laser sharp

L’Serec and C’Ylondre walk across the forest floor

They clear the trees and come to the ledge of a vast canyon

He indicates that she should sting her bow

He says
Every poem is an arrow
Sharp on one end
beautiful in the hand, it can cut
Multi colored and featheryon the other

He hands it to her and she just wants to hold it
Look at it
Keep it

The bladesso sharp the cut the light falling on them

The feathers
Such a strange bird it must have been

Nock the arrow

She nocks the lovely slender arrow

Draw!

She pulls hoping that he is only fooling
Hoping he’ll tell her to relax her grip
Hoping he’ll not tell her to shoot . . .

Release he shouts

And before her mind can stop her
Her hand lets fly the arrow

And it is sooooo beautiful
Only now is it so complete
And it’s arching into the distance . . .

He laughs

It must be released before it can truly be appreciated
See how it catches the morning sun
See how it arcs

You are so careless. she shouts
I have no idea where its going
How will I find it now that its gone?

Look at your hand.
And there is another arrow
Somehow different and yet as beautiful as the first

This isnt funny. she says

His eyes were deadly earnest
Its not meant to be.

She nocks the new arrow
Takes aim at his chest . . .

He doesnt flinch

The arrow pierces his right shoulder barely missing the top of his lung
and nipping the top of his right shoulder blade

His expression is enigmatic

I didn’t say release!

You knew I would!

Come here and pull this thing out
No not back out
Youll have to pull it in the direction it was going.
Break the feather end off first!

Ouch

Now pu l l l l l l Dont stop – Pull damn it!

I have injured you.
Speak to me
Speak to me!

That hurt.

What can I do?

In my kit there is a vial of clear liquid and clean cotton patches.
Yes, now soak your hands and the patches in the liquid
Don’t be afraid to spill it
Split the patches
Put one on the hole in the front
And one on the bac . k k k. k,. k .k .k !
Damn that hurts.

Hold still

Why
So you can shoot me again?

Are you going to die?

Not at the moment
But the day is young.

The First Lesson of Control

I can’t control you
No matter what attributes you ascribe to me
In fact I can’t control Reality
The only power I have
is the power to control the way I respond to Reality

It’s kinda like understanding fire
I can’t make it more fire-like or alter its light
but I can manipulate it into a campfire
and warm the cockles of your heart