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Please support education and information access where you can in addition to these charities:
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Sick Kids Foundation (Canada)
Help research that provides cures and support treatment for sick children.
Holland Bloorview Kids Rehabilitation Hospital (Canada)
Creating a world of possibility for kids and youth with disabilities.
The National Breast Cancer Foundation (International) [New!]
The Cancer Research Institute (International) [Updated!]
The Terry Fox Foundation (Canada/International)
The Princess Margaret Foundation (Canada)
Cancer Research organizations that combine the expertise of many different research firms and Universities to find innovative treatments and cures for Cancer.
United Way Worldwide (International)
United Way brings communities together to face their greatest challenges, whether that’s helping families find stability, empowering young people or responding to crises.
United Nations Fund (International)
Unicef (International)
Two organizations whose contribution of expertise, human and financial resources and volunteer efforts provide humanitarian solutions to real world problems the entire world over. These charities operate worldwide. The United Nations Fund supports the various programs part of the United Nations’ global mandate, as much a foundation as it is a roof around the world, while Unicef has been helping children throughout the world through famine and medica crises, and are most benefited by other children of the world who raise money during holidays like Hallow’s Eve (Halloween).
David Suzuki Foundation (Canada/International – Dr. Suzuki has delivered many keynotes at United Nations Environmental Summit events throughout the years)
Through evidence-based research, education and policy analysis, we work to conserve and protect the natural environment, and help create a sustainable Canada. We regularly collaborate with non-profit and community organizations, all levels of government, businesses and individuals.
Humane World For Animals (Formerly Humane Society International) (International)
The Humane World for Animals protects the health, lives and rights of animals the world over, ensuring that they too have a voice in this world. We are interdependent upon the complex web of life this entire planet over for our mutual survival. This is a world wide charity.
World Duchenne Organization (International)
Muscular Dystrophy Canada (Canada)
The World Duchenne Organization and Muscular Dystrophy Canada’s mission is to enhance the lives of those affected by neuromuscular disorders by continually working to provide ongoing support and resources while relentlessly searching for a cure through well-funded research.
‘There is a compelling need to ensure that wherever they are in the world, everyone diagnosed with Duchenne (and Becker) Muscular Dystrophy can benefit from a standard of care that is informed by the best practice of the best clinicians from all over the world, and is based upon the latest research.
World Veterans Federation (International)
The World Veterans Federation is a humanitarian organisation, a charity and a peace activist movement. The WVF maintains its consultative status with the United Nations since 1951 and was conferred the title of “Peace Messenger” in 1987.
I’d like to point out that it was the incredible Gary Sinese Foundation (United States) that brought the issue of Veteran’s rights to my attention. I’ve always had little respect for those who’d forget the great contribution made by those who’ve risked life and limb to defend those values that so many of us espouse. Perhaps the true measure of one’s principles are by that for which they’d risk their life.
“None can speak more eloquently for peace than those who have fought in war.”
Ralph Bunche, Nobel Peace Prize 1950
The Christopher and Dana Reeve Foundation (United States/Global)
The Reeve Foundation provides programs for research, uniting Scientists and Specialists from many different fields to find treatments for spinal cord injury translating them into therapies and support programs.
The Heart And Stroke Foundation (Canada)
For over 60 years, Heart & Stroke has been dedicated to fighting heart disease and stroke. Our work has saved thousands of lives and improved the lives of millions of others.
The ALS Society Of BC (Canada, British Columbia)
ALS (also known as Lou Gehrig’s Disease) is a progressive neuromuscular disease in which nerve cells die and leave voluntary muscles paralyzed. The ALS society provides a variety of programs to combat this disease and help those with it to survive.
The Global Foodbanking Network (International)
Ensuring that people the world over have enough food day to day in order to survive and lead healthy lives. In this challenging day and age services like this are becoming more and more essential. This is a world wide charity.
Margaret Atwood (Canadian writer)
Internationally renowned writer who continues to stifle us with her characters, plots and prose.
The Pierre Berton Heritage Centre (Canadian writer)
Visit a modest heritage museum for one of my inspirations as a Canadian writer. Children should read The Secret World of Og.
The Edgar Allan Poe Museum (United States writer)
Because Barris told me to put it here. If I didn’t, he said he’d walk. Geez. Stardom really gets to some people’s heads. Maybe I could kill him and bury his heart beneath the floor boards! Or I could encase him in behind a brick and mortar wall, for shaming my family name of Amantillado!
Wikipedia (Global)
The model for what may become the Encyclopedia Galactica, a complete reference and record of history, events and knowledge of humanity and its journey beyond. It is the encyclopedia of all that we know, what we surmise that we’ve known and will learn in the future. Yes, Wikipedia is a charitable organization of great importance. If you enjoy what I am doing here then please take the time to donate to Wikipedia. Surprisingly only 1% of Wikipedia’s users donate yet the site serves pages to millions every day.
Humble Bundle (United States/International)
A video gaming storefront benefiting a vast variety of different Charities in the United States and United Kingdom (hopefully soon to be expanded to include other areas of the world?). Their software bundles and video games allow you to choose which Charity your money benefits and how much of your money benefits that Charity. See? Gamers can do their part too and often do.
Multiple Sclerosis Society Of Canada (Canada)
Multiple Sclerosis is a degenerative disease currently affecting an estimated 2.3 million world wide. By donating you are contributing to effective research in finding a cure and tipping the scales of MS research to change lives forever.
If you’re a resident of Ontario then please consider supporting Building Better Schools.
Other Ways To Help Using Your Computer
Donate your idle computer time to science! Join the World Community Grid by clicking on one of the links below and follow the instructions for how to participate:
Thank you for your support
Shhhh! Digital Media
Brian Joseph Johns
Shhhh! Digital Media Presents…
Era of the Spellbound: Episode 15
by Brian Joseph Johns
Chapters
- Isolation
- The Sojourner’s Seers (Finished September 9, 2026 13:30 EST)
- The Great And Lost City (Finished September 23, 2026 16:00 EST)
- The Castle And The Weave (Started September 24, 2026 12:30 EST)
The Power Lords
Isolation
It was dark and she sat inside of her humble home, at a table closest to the door, which she currently watched in the darkness, only the light of stars streaming in through the window to keep her company.
Had she the wealth, stature and the connections, she might have been out there too, with those keeping their eyes upon the passage of the night’s affairs, but alas, she had been born to a family of meagre wealth and means, or so she’d been told for longer than she could recall. It was not her place to meddle in the affairs of state or the leaders thereof, though in her favour she thought, nor was it that of those for whom she was waiting to do as much, and they were far more well connected than she.
Outside of her window she heard the scurrying of two pairs of footsteps, and shortly thereafter a barely legible knock at the door.
She quickly stood and stepped over to the door, dialing the latch that kept it shut until the door was released from its grip. She quickly opened the door, checking between the opening where she was greeted by two familiar faces.
“Come in. Quickly now, before they see,” she opened the door wide enough for the two outside of her home to enter and then just as quickly closed it, the dialed latch automatically slipping back in place to ensure the door was locked and sealed.
“Forgive me, but Deoardin was late. Much later than usual,” Nelony spoke first.
“And that is nought even the worst of all, for in his return, he was alone,” Shaela broke her silence, pausing if only for a moment to ensure they weren’t followed.
“It must be the plague. She’d never abandon us. Ever!” Mila reasoned with them.
“Nay. I just told you that Deoardin was alone, as in none returned. They’ve fled the city…” Shaela reiterated her statement, emboldened by the fact that Mila still somehow harboured a sense of naivety that she reasoned had become the greatest danger to those that remained.
“Then its done. We are no more…” the realization hit Mila full force, and she fell backwards into the chair she’d got up from to open the door.
At that moment, there was a loud knock on the door. A sound not rended not by knuckles or a hand, but by gauntlets of bronze.
“Follow me! We must flee!” Mila was up and upon her feet and heading for a room which she’d kept locked.
Nelony and Shaela followed behind her as she fished a skeleton key from a necklace she wore and used it to open the door. By the time the door was opened, the banging at her front door continued:
“Open this door immediately by decree of Lorr!” a deep, hollow and bold voice emerged from behind a bronze mask on the other side of the door.
Mila and Nelony continued through the skeleton key door, Shaela closing and locking it behind them after she’d passed through the doorway. Mila then moved an area rug and uncovereed a hatch in the floor. She opened it and jumped down into the darkness, landing in a bed of hay that had been purposely positioned for the maneuver. Nelony and Shaela followed suit, the latter grabbing a rope and using it to pull the hatch shut. When it closed, another latch and its clever engineering sealed it from the inside.
Shaela turned and followed quickly after her friends.
They continued together into a descending tunnel, that took them ever deeper into the earth until they arrived at a locked grate.
Mila quickly found the metal bolt, and pulled it, releasing the grate which swung open, into the darkness just beyond the walls of the city.
When she stepped out, a pair of gauntlet covered hands grabbed her from the darkness, many others stepping out from their hiding places to face the three.
When Shaela attempted to turn and flee back into the tunnel, she was quickly cut off by a group that had followed them.
“Whence and to where were thou committed to flight? Yield this to us and free you shall be by the morning’s first light,” asked the Justician.
“Sir, if I may momentarily draw your attention, the grate they chose for their tunnel is rife with signs of geomancy. It is in alignment with the north eastern wall of the city. That direction is rumoured to be sacred to the followers of the ways of the Aerth, perhaps trying to benefit from its blessing?” suggested the Sage Justician.
“Belief is as powerful an ambrosia as it is a poison. They were seeking internal morale, not the alterations of the weave,” the Justician responded, then turning his attention back to Mila, Nelony and Shaela.
“You will spend the night in the dungeon, and by the morning’s light, if you have not yet confessed your destination, the Norbids will extract it from you by the means of the sacred blood weave,” the Justician’s voice echoed from behind his bronze mask.
“Fear not, for you are to be purged. Clarified. Purified before your soul faces the enduring end. You will leave here with nothing that you accumulated during your time, for it will all be returned to the blood from whence you acquired it. You will leave completely absent of your mortal experiences and as naked of body, mind and soul as were you moments before you were birthed,” the Sage Justician added as he passed Mila, his voice echoing too from behind a similar but unique bronze mask.
The night began to fade, a distant light emerging and overtaking their vision.
…
Mila awoke to the shafts of sunlight cast by the late morning sun, their beams crossing the territory on her bed wielded by her collection of Dakimakura, across her mountain of four pillows, upon one of which her head gently rested. The sunlight had found its way to her pillow a little over an hour earlier and had progressed south across her forehead, and over her eye brows until it barely touched her eye lids.
She felt the warmth first, and a few minutes later, their light. She shifted uneasily and tried to wipe her eyes, and when the sunlight persisted, she rolled over onto her side, looking over the edge of her bed.
On the wooden floor there in her line of sight sat Happiu~isuka, who had been sitting there for almost two hours patiently waiting for her to start their morning ritual, though it had been a week since the first time she’d slept in past ten in the morning.
She lay there on her side, her eyes still closed, though Happiu~isuka could not tell if they were closed or open. Rather than sit quietly, wagging his tail every time she shifted her sleeping position on the bed, he instead decided to voice his opinion on the matter of her sleeping in.
“Rrrruff!” he let out one abrupt bark. Not very loud, but audible enough to be heard clearly from such a short distance.
Mila smirked, though her eyes remained closed.
Rrrruff! Rruff!” Happiu~isuka repeated.
Her eyes opened slowly, and she focused on the pug, whose face peered back in anticipation.
“Please tell me the quarantine is over…” she said to the little pug, who tilted his head sideways as he looked at her.
She watched him for a moment more and then smiled.
“I guess not…” she ruminated the pug’s response or rather, the lack thereof.
She threw her comforter off, revealing a nighty she’d worn only the night before during a private video chat with Wes.
She found her house coat and her slippers, and began her morning ritual in the bathroom as Happiu~isuka watched her from just outside of the bathroom door.
…
She sat out on the back porch, drinking her tea to wash down her Natto salad. A short distance from the table, Happiu~isuka was licking the sides of his food dish, cleaning up the last of his favourite soft food.
The air was quiet as the sun rose towards its position of the eleventh hour of the day. The neighbourhood was quiet and no cars could be heard. There weren’t any of the sounds of dogs barking as their owners walked them around the artificial lake whose shores upon which Mila’s home was poised. The community was silent and mostly still. As still and silent and perhaps lonely as the residents therein.
Suddenly and most startling, Mila’s phone rang. She quickly answered it.
“I was wondering when you were going to call. I miss you. I miss our snuggles…” Mila began, speaking in a quiet and enticing voice.
“I miss you too, but you’re going to have to refresh my memory about our snuggles,” Shaela’s voice emerged from the phone.
“Shaela? We haven’t spoken in a while. How’ve you been keeping in the midst of all of this?” Mila asked her friend, still slightly defensive at having snuggled up to her over the line as a result of having mistaken her call for that of Wes.
“COVID you mean? How is anyone supposed to keep in the midst of a quarantine? I mean, its a Night Wytch’s dream come true, but a nightmare for anyone else. I’ve been honing my skills and doing my shadow work as it were. How about you, my artist friend? How have you been dealing with the loneliness?” Shaela asked her.
“By keeping myself busy with art and my household chores… and other ways…” Mila added, recalling her private video chat with Wes.
“Nelony’s already a basket case. Especially when the news erroneously reported that COVID might be transmitted through birds. Apparently none of the squirrels are talking to her over a dispute that she played favourites with one of them, so naturally when she lost the birds, that was it. She was completely alone, and you know how she gets when she has nobody to speak with,” Shaela began bringing Mila up to speed with regard to Nelony’s life.
Mila immediately imagined that the next time she spoke with Nelony, that it would be similarly what Nelony had to say about Shaela and her isolation.
“She says she’s been having vivid dreams… or nightmares, depending upon how she’s feeling that day,” Shaela chattered into her phone.
“What kind of dreams?” asked Mila of her friend.
“Oh, you know her and those historical fantasy books she likes to read,” Shaela began to get a little too gossipy.
“You mean the ones that help some get through particularly difficult lonely times?” Mila asked her sarcastically, implying Shaela’s lack of empathy for her friends.
“Look. I’m just talking about how Nelony gets when she’s lonely, never mind whether there’s a quarantine in effect or not. Besides, I’ve been having some pretty vivid dreams too…” Shaela finally admitted.
“Of ancient history?” asked Mila of Shaela as she sat up in her chair, suddenly interested in their conversation beyond the gossipy banter that had already been thrown around.
“A great walled city. Circular in form…” Shaela began.
“…and on a great island, just off of the shores of Asia minor and the Silk Road eastward. Where they live in a time during a plague…” Mila continued for Shaela.
“…and the law men wear bronze masks…? How did you know all of this? Have you been scrying into my dreams?” Shaela accused Mila.
“No. Never. I’ve been having the same dreams…” Mila admitted to Shaela, who was markedly astonished.
“So has Nelony. I didn’t say anything to her. The last thing I want is for her to become codependent upon me for her dreams…” Shaela explained to Mila.
“Oh how wonderfully supportive you are of your best friend…” Mila was once again sarcastic toward Shaela.
“Oh please! You know as well as I that if I were to soften up, I’d be encouraging it. She goes to you to hear encouragement and flowery things, and she comes to me to when she needs an attitude that doesn’t coddle her, but strengthens her,” Shaela defended herself and her ways with Nelony, as a silence enveloped them.
“Besides, how long has it been since we last had a meeting? You know, a meeting?” Shaela reminded her of their temple in Mila’s basement.
“We agreed that since the Church began its campaign against us, that our meetings could wait, and then, COVID happened,” Mila reiterated for Shaela their recent past and the absence of their temple meetings.
“Are you saying that COVID was timed to prevent us from growing in promise?” asked Shaela of her.
“No! Not at all, despite it seeming that way. I mean, I could blame every driver that cuts me off that they’re part of a conspiracy to delay or sabotage our meetings. Most things that happen in life aren’t purposefully directed at us. Its our mind filling in the blanks every time something gets more difficult than it otherwise would have been,” Mila elicited for Shaela, almost sounding as if she’d rehearsed it.
“That’s Eckhart Tolle! I heard that on a podcast! You practically memorized that word for word,” Shaela once again accused her.
“Look, I was at a low point a week ago, and feared that maybe there was some kind of conspiracy that might be trying to stop us from forming a Sanctum Seclorum. I mean, that’s not too far fetched you know, given the fact that the Norbids and the Church already tried to take credit for our help with the oil spill. I mean, they’ve been using that fact to boost their publicity and membership, while painting us as some crazy devil worshipping cult,” Mila paused, feeling slightly stressed to be revisiting this problem again.
“Look, I was low, alright? Mr. Tolle helped me to get my mind off of the side of the road and back on the highway, in the direction I should be going! Most random obstacles are just that: random obstacles. Its thinking otherwise that can be more destructive. It would be like riding a horse through a forest and aiming for the trees instead of the path through them,” Mila now defended herself against Shaela’s scathing interrogation.
“True. I’m sorry, you were just safe guarding your own mental well being,” Shaela admitted.
“Be sure to give the same to Nelony. Promise me,” Mila replied firmly.
“I promise. So we’ve determined that we’re having similar dreams. Now what?” Shaela looked to Mila for guidance.
“We should take advantage of the skills of our newest members. Gwendolyn? Gallea? Even Miana. We need to find out what it is we’re experiencing and why. Lets find out from people who can remember, and if that fails, those who can delve,” Mila suggested to Shaela.
“Alright. I’m going to call Nelony when we get off of the phone and… cringe… apologize to her, and let her know that we spoke. I’ll tell her to keep it from Neville for now,” Shaela told Mila her plans.
“In that case, we’ll wait before speaking with Miana. I’m suspecting that the two are becoming close. There might be some crossover between them,” Mila advised Shaela.
“Should we be concerned?” asked Shaela.
“Not yet, but this does bring up another difficult matter. The matter of the fact that Nelony is already involved with Neville. They’re a committed couple…” Mila brought up the matter of their relationship.
“Right. What happens in a Sanctum Seclorum when mingling between members becomes a risk? The more we delve into this, the more complicated this whole thing gets,” Shaela grumbled.
“These are the things we need to learn and overcome if we’re going to get beyond our own current membership. Remember, one day, we’re going to be approaching other mystics from all over the world. If we don’t get this right in our own backyard, then how are we going to get it right elsewhere?” Mila explained to Shaela.
“Not bad for a Canadian,” Shaela responded admirably to Mila.
“Correction. A Canadian Japanese Brit,” Mila smiled through the phone and paused for effect before resuming.
“Alright. Enough encouragement and flowery things. I’m going to speak to Gwendolyn and Gillie about this to see if we can’t get some guidance from the tarot. You speak with Nelony and we’ll talk sometime before nine in the evening,” Mila advised her.
“Why, what’s happening at nine tonight?” asked Shaela.
“My private video chat with a certain very handsome and quietly seductive fellow…” Mila blushed on the other side of the phone.
“Enjoy, and oh how I’m envious,” Shaela said to her playfully.
“Bye,” Mila said as she hung up.
“Bye. I’m envious alright. Envious of Wes,” Shaela said to herself quietly.
The Sojourner’s Seers
Outside of Gillie’s home the streets were growing dim as the daylight waned further into the evening. The street lights had already turned on while most residents were at home eating their supper, with their families or in isolation.
Gillie sat in the den, in front of her web cam shuffling the cards in her favourite tarot deck as Gwendolyn, Mila, Nelony and Shaela watched her, each from in front of their own computers in their own homes. Gwendolyn watching from the computer in her own room in Gillie’s home.
“Did any of you recognize any landmarks, natural or human made that might indicate where your dreams were taking place?” asked Gillie as she shuffled, trying to get them focused on their dreams so as to permeate the entropy of the drawing of her cards.
“…and when, which I believe is the first clue we’ve had,” Mila responded through her web camera, still wearing a light and flowery day dress.
“Agreed. Its definitely ancient and yet, there’s something innately modern about it,” Shaela added thoughtfully, wearing a black night gown and with her hair pulled back into an impossibly red pony’s tail.
“It was very absent of life, like its focus is based upon material alchemy of some nature. An outward materialist presence. The only animal life I recall from my dreams were those whose role was strictly for the purpose of agriculture. The poor creatures. They probably didn’t even suspect anything about their fate,” Nelony sat in front her camera wearing a flannel house coat and a towel wrapped about her hair.
“Oh please, Nelony! Don’t start with that again. The ancestors of those dogs and cats you looked after in the animal shelter have probably eaten more cute little birds and chipmunks than you’ve helped over the course of your entire lifetime!” Shaela responded to Nelony’s empathy towards nature.
“But only because they have to, not because they choose to!” Nelony quickly defended her viewpoint.
“Well I choose to eat meat too, just like my cats and their ancestors. Don’t guilt trip us just because you’ve made a different choice than the rest of us!” Shaela’s eyes were tense and her words ferocious, unsettling Gwendolyn and even Mila.
There was a moment of silence between then, but without pause to the sound of the shuffling of Gillie’s deck, which emanated through their respective computer speakers in an almost soothing manner.
“…I’m… I’m sorry Nelony. This COVID quarantine is really starting to take its toll. I was just better at fooling myself that because of my shadow work, I was somehow immune to it…” Shaela looked down at herself in shame.
“Wait! That was brilliant! She did it again!” Mila suddenly realized something that she’d forgotten about their dreams.
“Its alright Mila. Don’t coddle me. Its lost effort on me. I need to face it, not be alleviated of it,” Shaela replied.
“No! That’s not what I meant, and yes, you do need to face it because the Shaela I know and admire would never admonish her best friend for standing by her convictions,” Mila made the effort to clarify her stance and her point.
“Then what did you mean?” Gwendolyn asked her, suddenly enthused by Mila.
“Don’t you remember? The streets were clear and the people divided from one another. Remember the children?” asked Mila of the other two women who’d been having the same dreams.
“…ring around the rosy, pocket full of posies… hush ah, hush ah, we all fall down! Yes I do remember!” Nelony clapped her hands together happily and then a deep and resentful frown fell upon her face.
“…their bronze masks. The gauntlets. They weren’t wearing armour. They were wearing what they thought would protect them from a plague…” Shaela finally realized what Mila had come to a minute earlier.
“They were in quarantine too. Just like us,” Mila explained to them.
“Then why weren’t their masks shaped like bird’s beaks?” Shaela asked Mila.
“Because the plague doctors discovered that birds were unaffected by the plague, and for that reason they shaped their masks like the beak of a bird. They believed that the long beak kept the bad breath of the plague away from their body,” Nelony explained to them what she’d known of history and its connection to avians with regard to the plague and the plague doctors of history.
“But each bronze mask was uniquely crafted, not to mention most citizens weren’t wearing them. Only the city guards and members of office,” Shaela pointed out.
“Bronze is an alchemically potent alloy, given that it was cast from copper, which itself is antimicrobial I might add,” Gillie advised them, drawing from some piece of trivia she’d read decades earlier in one of her books on the subject.
“If that is true, then that would explain the bronze masks and the timing of the quarantine,” Nelony agreed with Gillie’s observation.
“…I seem to recall that a great deal of the city’s technology was born of bronze,” Shaela recalled given her access to the city’s interior offices and infrastructure.
“The grain feeders certainly were reliant upon it. Especially the mash the cows and pigs were fed,” Nelony seemed to remember details of her job in the agricultural nursery.
“The tower. The great bronze tower! With six spokes and stacks. Each a different note of the scale,” Mila’s artistic memory suddenly pulled forth features she recalled from her dreams.
“But there’s eight notes in a scale, not six. I know because I was a clarinet player when I was in grade school,” Shaela responded to Mila’s observation.
“Actually, there’s twelve unique notes per octave in the equal temperament scale. Eight notes per mode, of which you’re probably thinking the Ionian mode, which forms the basis for the most common scale of which we all know: doh – re – mi – fa – so – la – te – doh. Six note scales are derived from something called the whole note scale, where each interval between notes is a whole tone rather than a half…” Mila, whose knowledge of music in terms of performance and as an art was both a technical and intuitive peak she possessed, and with seemingly little effort.
“…you lost me at Ionian…” Shaela responded.
“Me too…” Nelony added in a most comforting manner for Shaela.
“…have you ever heard an ascent or descent from a harp? You know how it has that mystical esoteric feel? Well that’s an example of a whole note scale, and I’d be willing to bet that each of those steam pipes on the great tower is tuned to one of the notes of a whole note scale, and that they each sound four times over the course of an hour, hence giving a full twenty-four hour day,” Mila said excitedly.
“If this is an ancient city, then that wouldn’t make sense. I seem to recall a project I did in school that dealt with the issue of time and calendars. The calendar we all know is the Gregorian, and it was instituted officially in 1582, and addended with the addition of leap years to account for a year’s true length being very, very close to 365.25 days. In terms of the unit of measure of a day, before that time they were often divided up into eighths. Four milestones during the day, and four during the night,” Gwendolyn explained to them.
“What if we’re dealing with something very advanced… like an advanced civilization…” Nelony began to find a growing sense wonder within herself at such a possibility.
“Yes, it could be. The Avar Khanate or the Nabataen…” Gwendolyn suggested.
“Weren’t the Nabataens mostly a trade based empire. Arabic I believe. Borderline nomadic in terms of their civilization moving from place to place to further their trade network and their immense skills in harvesting water from even the deepest of desserts,” Gillie recalled from her earlier reading once again.
“Yes, they built Petra I seem to recall. What about Tartaria, or even Atlantis?” Gwendolyn suggested, given the allusion to bronze based technology and a system of mathematics that at least had to have had a complex understanding of sound, in order to craft instruments from the venting pipes of great steam powered machinery.
When Mila realized that the number six had revealed itself numerous times throughout their speculation and their dreams, it suddenly occurred to her something that Gallea had alluded to when reminiscing about the Sanctum Seclorum from which she’d heralded:
“Six by four and four by six and six by six and ten betwixt…” Mila sang aloud to them.
“Where’d that come from?” asked Shaela, now very curious.
“It was a rhyme I’ve heard Gallea and Glynis singing. Mostly when she… they think nobody is listening. I think it came from her Sanctum. Six is very relevant to their understanding of the weave. The product of Six and four is twenty-four, the number of hours in a day, and if you add two and four, yet get six, which is a means they used to measure the perfection of a number,” Mila ruminated thoughtfully about her realization.
“The product of six and six and ten is three hundred and sixty, the number of degrees in a circle, exactly what you’d need if you wanted the geometry of time, without trigonometry,” Gillie said as the cards began jumping from the deck as she shuffled and before a few moments had passed, three of them lay face down before her.
“This is where they, the people of your dreams are coming from. It is their past, before the time you’ve become familiar with them,” Gillie began, and the silence once again followed before she continued.
“The Ace of Wands. Standing as it does. It is a time of renewed optimism. A fresh start. These people have come far together and worked hard to build a new beginning. Their creativity and ingenuity has yielded much progress and prosperity,” Gillie turned to the next card she’d laid before her, in the center.
“This is the present. Their present in your dreams. It is the point at which you’ve become involved in their history, if you are dreaming of a time long since gone,” Gillie paused and touched the face of the card before her.
“The Hermit, inverted. Their now is a time of isolation, perhaps as is ours in this time of COVID. They are huddled in their homes, fearful of contact with others in their city. Perhaps it is a mass sense of shame, or maybe even a plague. There is some longing of the soul however that keeps them confined to their homestead and close surroundings. Their neighbours are fully of envy. Jealousy. The result of what’s transpired as indicated by the Ace of Wands. They are jealous of the prosperity. Of the technological progress of this great city. Yet even amidst this tension, there is the possibility of allies. Those who can see through the veil of the darkest and basest of human emotions, though perhaps it is the hubris of this great city that draws such despondent spite from their neighbours. A friendly smile from one whose pockets are full can sometimes be mistaken for a sign of guile from those whose pockets are empty. Is it the competitive nature of those who are doing better than others, or the spiteful envy of those who aren’t? All conflict of this kind has much deeper roots,” Gillie paused again and slid her hand over to the third card.
“This is what’s to come. Their potential future, that of the citizens of the dreams about which you’ve been speaking. Perhaps theirs and your connection to them,” Gillie’s fingers gently touched the third card.
“The Page of Swords, inverted. There is a deceit of some form that could lead to tragedy. There are those in the midst of the citizens of the dream city whose intentions are hidden, perhaps weaving mistrust, and manipulating the direction towards some form of mishap. Whatever it might be is hidden in the glaring reflection of the sword’s blade,” Gillie stopped and reached for the deck and continued shuffling.
“Now each of you three may ask one question, and a card will be drawn naturally as symbol that represents a possible answer. Shaela? You may ask first. Concentrate on your the city and your dreams and ask your question,” Gillie looked to the camera image of Shaela, who seemed a bit startled that she should be selected first of the three.
“Alright. Is there danger in store for the city that is connected to what has been revealed thus far?” Shaela spoke thoughtfully, perhaps drawing from her father’s living vocation.
Gillie’s shuffling continued and a card suddenly dropped from the deck mid-shuffle and fell face up onto her table in front of her, landing halfway between the present and the future.
“Your answer lies in their near future, perhaps the next time you dream of this city and its people. The Ace of Pentacles, inverted. Something has come to pass that one of several parties involved failed to act upon. It was full of potential and possibility, though whether it was of a prosperous or dire nature is unknown. An opportunity came and went, with those who were in a place to act upon having failed to do so. This might mean there is danger as a result of this failure, or perhaps that has resulted in its aversion. If there is danger, it is related to this missed opportunity. Nelony? Concentrate on the city and your dreams and ask your question,” Gillie requested of Nelony.
Nelony sat quietly for a moment, looking away from the camera with her hand to her chin as she thought.
When Shaela was about to goad her, Mila quickly put her finger to her lip: “Shhhh!“.
Nelony’s attention finally returned to the camera.
“Can the animals help us if I were to speak with them on these matters?” Nelony asked Gillie.
Mila nodded encouragingly while Shaela rolled her eyes.
“Nature girl does it again…” the words left Shaela’s lips before she had a chance to stifle them.
The card practically jumped from the deck and landed square on the card slot indicating the present.
“The time is now, the next time that you dream, and the answer lies in the Five of Swords reversed. Your friends, the ones about whom your question pertains, they understand their position and they forgive you. They see through the veil and perhaps understand far more than that for which most given them credit. Perhaps the answer lies therein the fact that nobody has ever cared to ask them?” Gillie responded thoughtfully. Quietly and a tear slid down Nelony’s cheek, which she promptly wiped with a tissue.
“Thank you. I needed to hear that,” Nelony responded, the sniffles following shortly thereafter.
“Oh please!” Shaela slapped her forehead with her hand, shaking her head.
Mila seemed to enjoy seeing Shaela writhe at Nelony’s display, and a smile crossed Gwendolyn’s face having caught sight of it.
“Mila. Concentrate of the city and your dreams and ask your question,” Gillie requested of her.
“Gallea and Miana have spoken and reminisced many times of their memories of the original Sanctum Seclorum. Is this city and its people connected to its history?” asked Mila most humbly.
The card that fell from the deck as Gillie shuffled, fell face down across the card indicating the future. It lay there at a sleight angle to the card beneath it (the Page of Swords). Gillie turned it over.
“The future is uncertain, but the Page of Wands reversed indicates that something was pushed from its natural progression into a hastily pursued ends. Perhaps a solution to a dire threat, and sought in form from an unstable foundation. Those who were driven to such ends did so in desperation, but their fate remains to be seen,” Gillie tapped the card once and then looked to Mila, Nelony, Shaela and then Gwendolyn.
“Any thoughts on this spread?” Gillie asked Gwendolyn for a second opinion.
“On Shaela’s question, I’d have talked a bit about the possibility of the lack of abundance indicated by the Ace of Pentacles reversed. The danger about which you were asking might not involve a direct threat, but an emergent problem arising from scarcity, and given the Page of Swords reversed as a harbinger of the future, this danger might arise through subversive means rather than direct confrontation,” Gwendolyn offered her interpretation.
“Gillie? Gwendolyn? We can’t thank you enough for this guidance, and perhaps with it, we might overcome the obstacles that brought the Sanctum Seclorum to its end. If anything at all, we now have guidance and insight. Something with which to begin,” Mila thanked them.
“My pleasure,” Gillie smiled to Mila.
“Mine too. Its an honour to have such an opportunity. The only shame there is that this all found us during a time of isolation,” Gwendolyn offered.
“That’s the Jungian meaningful coincidence speaking to us directly. It seems the weave offered us a clue long before we even found this mystery,” Shaela pointed out.
“With that insight, and the help of Nelony’s friends in the dream world, we might figure this out,” Mila agreed with Shaela.
“I can’t help but think that this has come to us in a most important time. Its a warning,” Nelony suggested.
“Perhaps. Let us focus upon that tonight,” Mila replied.
“Good night. I’m off to an early sleep. I’ve got an early day tomorrow. We’ll follow up soon,” Gillie waved and disconnected her session from the video chat.
“Bye Mila. Nelony. Shaela. We’ll talk soon about this,” Gwendolyn disappeared from the video chat as she shut down her computer.
“Incoming chat request from user: Chaprentice,” the chat application’s voice announced.
“That’s mine. Alright, I take it that you two are leaving then…?” Mila urged them as the chat request ringer continued to ring.
“Me? No. I want to see what this is all about…” Shaela grinned most mischievously.
“Me too,” Nelony giggled, looking to Shaela as Mila’s smile slowly disappeared.
“Fine…” Mila clicked the mouse and answered the call, and a video window popped up on each of their computers with the chat username: Chaprentice in the title area of the window. Wes’ video image then appeared.
“Hi honey… uhhh… Hi Nelony. How are you Shaela?” Wes seemed a little bit uncomfortable but managed to remain civil and polite.
“Hi honey. I think that Shaela and Nelony were just leaving,” Mila looked to them, a most scathing and urgent look in her eyes.
“No we weren’t. We have plenty of time,” Shaela replied without breaking her line of sight.
“The night’s still young,” Nelony agreed playfully.
“So what do you two do together on the camera in the evenings?” asked Shaela.
“Should we tell them?” Mila looked nervously to Wes, who shook his head negatively.
“I think they call it ASMR…” Mila replied innocently, winking at Wes who immediately caught on.
Five minutes had passed since Mila had started her relaxing session of aetheric weave powered ASMR, while both Nelony and Shaela watched enthusiastically. By the time ten minutes had passed, both were fast asleep, snoring up a storm on their desks.
“See? Now we can spend the last little bit of time on us… Wes? Wes?!!!” Mila said to urgently, suddenly realizing that he too had fallen asleep and was now passed out, out of view of his camera.
“Always enough time for them, but never enough time for us…” Mila said, saddened by how their planned evening had turned out.
She quietly shut the chat session down and after giving Happiu~isuka one last helping of kibbles, she turned in for bed and the dreams that were certain to herald their night’s delving into the depths of mystery.
The Great and Lost City
Mila awoke first, finding herself suddenly very uncomfortable: held in place in a standing position against the steel bars of their cage. She was fastened to the bars, with her left hand fastened to Shaela’s right, she too held in place upright, beside Nelony an arm’s length away.
They all three of them were facing the interior of some kind of holding cell, fashioned of stone like the dungeons of old, deep beneath the administrative center of the city.
“Mila!” Shaela whispered loudly to her friend.
Mila turned her head to face Shaela, shocked to see that she too was fastened similarly to the cage.
“Look. Wake him!” Shaela gestured with her chin, toward the stone floor in the middle of their cell.
There, laying in the middle of the floor, curled up in an attempt to preserve body heat was Wes, completely unbound. Upon their noticing of him, he shifted his position, perhaps turning over in an attempt to warm the side he’d been sleeping on, the floor sucking all of his heat as he slept.
“How?” Mila asked Shaela.
“I don’t know, didn’t you put us to sleep?” Shaela asked her.
“No. That was ASMR…” Mila explained to her.
“What in the blazes is ASMR?” asked Shaela, unfamiliar with the concept.
“It’s a sort of video phenomenon online that is supposed to help you fall asleep,” Mila explained to her.
“So I noticed. Well then try the opposite of ASMR,” Shaela suggested.
“The opposite? What might that be?” asked Mila, somewhat lost as to what might be used to quickly rouse one from the midst of sleep.
“I don’t know. Try clanging a bunch of pots and pans together? Seems to work for my cats,” Shaela replied.
“I don’t know what’s more frightening, the sound of pots and pans clanging or the fact that you used them to wake your cats!” Nelony retorted to Shaela’s suggestion.
As Nelony was in mid-sentence, they heard the creaking of hinges as the locked cell door swung open. Two guards and the same Justician then stepped into their cell, and they were once again facing the same bronze mask.
The two guards walked by Wes, who still lay fast asleep on the floor, barely shifting to make room for the guards as she stepped close to him, their apparently having not taken notice of him.
“I fear that I can no longer afford the delay, as the economics of this situation have grown considerably more urgent. Suffice it to say that I will grant your freedom immediately upon the revelation of the destination to which you’d planned to flee…” the Justician’s hollow voice pierced the veil of silence that had suddenly overtaken the cell.
Behing the Justician and the two guards, Wes suddenly leaned up and onto his rump, where he sat for a moment rubbing his eyes and trying to figure out where he was.
When he spotted the curvaceous shape of Mila’s lower extremities, he was quickly upon his feet confronting the two guards and the Justician.
“What is the meaning of this? Untie them at once and explain yourselves, lest I be forced to call for a Constable!” Wes declared boldly, elevating his chin proudly as he awaited their response.
Mila looked to him with a sense of hope, and a newly born smile upon her face.
“What has gotten into her…?” the Justician looked at her, puzzled, and then turned in the direction she was looking.
Wes stood there defiantly, facing the menacing Justician, who seemed to be looking right through him, as if he weren’t even there.
“Perhaps she praddles at ghosts?” one of the two guards suggested, both of them turning and looking directly in Wes’ direction, though neither responding to his presence.
“I said I demand that you untie them or answer to the law!” Wes once again reiterated himself, only to have the Justician return his gaze to Mila, as if he’d neither seen nor heard Wes at all.
“She plays games then?” the other guard offered.
“No. This seems a delusion she’s acquired as a result of spending far less than a quarter half-day chained to the cage. Perhaps if we tighten the chains, and leave her here until the morning’s light, one of them might be a little more forthcoming?” the Justician repeated his threat.
Before the Justician had finished his sentence, Wes had leapt upon the man’s back, and began hammering a way at him with his bare hands. Mila watched in at first delight, and then sheer horror as Wes attempted to throttle the Justician, who neither reacted nor moved in response to any of Wes’ attacks. It was almost as if he simply did not exist. It was as if he truly were a ghost, and nothing more.
Neither of the guards took notice of Wes on the man’s back, and it soon became clear that the only people who were aware of Wes were Mila, Shaela and Nelony.
Wes dropped off of the Justician’s back and ran around to face him, standing between the Justician and Mila.
“Come on! Why don’t you try picking on a man!” Wes tried getting in the Justician’s face, though it were honestly as if he did not exist.
“Tighten their chains, and bar anyone from entry to this dungeon. If Lorr comes searching, tell him that they were moved to another location due to the risk of their liberation by the hands of the Sisters of Lyra,” the Justician ordered the guards.
“But he doesn’t believe the Order of Sisters exist, not to mention that he’s the council’s electee. His rank in these matters outweighs even yours,” the guard informed the Justician.
The Justician wasted no time and turned to the other guard.
“Do as I instructed. I’ll take our peer here for retraining and have another guard join you shortly,” the Justician ordered the other guard, who unquestioningly went about doing as he instructed, despite Wes’ attempts to prevent him from doing so.
The Justician and the defiant guard left together, heading toward the dungeon stairs and ascending quickly.
“What are you going to do? Punish me for following the chain of command? You are the council’s right arm, not their elected representative. They’ll hear about this and reprimand you!” the guard continued his defiance of the Justician.
“Calm yourself, there’ll be no such outcome. You’re right and I stand corrected. I’d like you to go to the council and inform them of our catch in the dungeon, in order to preserve the law and their rights,” the Justician gestured to the left with his left gauntlet, and the guard stepped forward in that direction.
As soon as his back was to the Justician, the Justician swiftly plunged his bronze sword under the guard’s armour, piercing in an upward direction and exiting his through his neck. He fell gasping to his knees for a few moments and then fell flat to the ground and was dead shortly thereafter.
The Justician then retrieved his blade and promptly sliced through a part of his own left side, rending unto himself a sleight injury which he could claim he’d accrued in his own defense against the guard.
“Guards! Guards! Quick and at once! Secure the chamber hall!” the Justician yelled, putting his booted foot firmly down upon the face of the guard whom he’d stabbed in the back.
Four guards quickly ran from the stockade and joined the Justician.
“This one attacked me from behind. Tis’ but a flesh wound. There were two others, but they fled along the western battlements. I need you to go down into the dungeon and assist Kalvin of the 3rd Phalanx. The rest of you carry this man to the morgue and then organize a search party. There are certain to be more abound!” the Justician ordered the guards.
…
Wes by that time was out of breath after having tried with all of his might to stop the guard from tightening the chains. No matter how much force he put into his effort, the he could not move or alter the guard’s motion or intent in any way.
“I’m sorry milady. I’m just following orders…” the guard apologized to Mila and then moved on to Shaela, where he started tightening the chains around her wrists.
“A conscience without the conviction of courage is like having a set of claws without the tiger! You are but half a man,” Shaela responded to his apology.
“Wytch! I can only give so much!” he responded to her, but as he had with Mila’s chains, he only tightened Shaela’s half as much as he’d been instructed before moving over to Nelony and tightening hers.
He then left through the cell door, closing it behind him, continuing to his rendezvous point to meet with the other guard.
“My ghostly hero!” Mila exclaimed to Wes, who caught his breath.
“But what use is a ghost, except perhaps the ability to utter inspiring rhetoric? Case in point: in order for one to be truly free, one must free themselves?” asked Wes of her as he quickly went over to her chains and tried to loosen them.
“Oh great! our ghostly and inspiring but ultimately inept hero,” Shaela said to him sarcastically.
“You can keep us company until we figure out a way to free ourselves,” Nelony added encouragingly.
“Doesn’t something seem strange to you? Like instead of us being whomever we were that was clearly part of these events, whether they’re simply a dream or are part of some lost history, that we’ve become ourselves rather than those people?” Mila rationalized to them.
“Hold on a second there, I think she’s onto something. That’s right, what are the odds that if this was a real time in history, that there’d have been three ladies with our exact names?” Shaela broke her cynicism for a moment of thoughtful reflection.
“Then are we us, are we three women who were involved in this plot in some way? I suppose if we were, that would explain how I can remember the details of what’s beyond that door over there. Three complete times around a spiral stairway and we’re on the courtyard level. Past that gardens and a short walk from the the doorway into the main assembly hall. There’s a large portrait relief of a man of some implied importance on the wall just above the door, and I seem to recall wondering why there wasn’t a painting of her…?” Nelony gestured with her head in the direction of the door through which the guard had passed.
“Oh, you mean the painting of… oh my gosh. She’s right. That painting on the wall… its a painting of Lorr…” Shaela’s facial shade somehow managed to become even more pale than that of the goth she was.
“Then why can’t I remember these details?” asked Mila, as she looked to the chains that held her in place.
“…because you don’t have access. You’re part of the grounds supply service, outside of the infrastructure buildings and court. You’re a flower girl…” Shaela told her.
“That’s right. She is, isn’t she. That’s why we had to keep watch for Deoardin’s return. She doesn’t have access to those parts of the city’s interior,” Nelony somehow seemed to remember all this as if she’d lived it herself.
“A flower girl…? What’s a flower girl?” Mila asked them, her mind already wandering as to what possibilities that might entail.
“She’s her own flower girl,” Wes corrected Nelony.
“Don’t worry our little ghost of a hero. She has a great sense of dignity and confidence as a flower girl,” Shaela assured Wes, mostly leaving Mila in the dark at that point.
“That’s right… I recall. During the Moons of the Summer Solstice, I keep the fresh flowers in the city planters… and when the Autumn greets us with its fading brush, and during the Winter Solstice, the flowers are of a dried arrangement that I craft, and they’re set upon the planters to remind us that even when the darkness is the greatest, that the light that yields the flowers of the next season is already starting its ascension…” Mila found the details of her vocation and purpose within the city.
“The Festival of Petals is a feature of the outer ring, and that is why you don’t have access to the inner,” Shaela recalled.
“Me too though. I only have access to the Agricultural Nursery…” Nelony too recalled.
“But even that is just inside the inner ring, and though you don’t have access to the infrastructure buildings or the main assembly hall, you still are able to move around within the courtyard…” Shaela reminded her.
“Which is how and why I can remember what is beyond that door…” Nelony nodded in agreement.
“But none of that is getting any of you closer to freeing yourselves,” Wes reminded them as he kept struggling to free Mila from the chains.
“Yes, but we need to know where we’re going before we even try to get there. Not only that, but we’ve also learned why we were waiting for Deoardin…” Mila explained to Wes, and then turned her head toward Shaela.
“Because he’s part of the Lady’s First Guard, and she was ordered to leave the city upon the confirmed case of the plague. The fact that Deoardin returned alone indicates that there is a division in the council, or that she herself has refused to return,” Shaela explained to them.
“But why? Why is all of this important, and where is Lorr if we’re in a time period where they’re both still alive?” asked Mila of Shaela and Nelony.
“Its foggy… I can’t seem to recall… Its like a word on the tip of your tongue…” Shaela thought carefully but found no memory of why these details were important at all.
“Same here. I’m drawing a complete blank…” Nelony added.
“We only have but less than an hour’s time until the first light of dawn. We must free ourselves, or be subject to who knows what kind of cruelty at the hands of that Justician,” Mila declared, struggling once again against the chains that bound her.
“My chains are a bit loose, but he didn’t give me enough slack to get away…” Shaela pulled at hers finding that she had enough slack for her circulation, but not for her freedom.
“At least he had heart enough for that, despite as you stated, being a man that had the virtue of the claws, but not the tiger within to use them,” Nelony pointed out as she tried to squeeze her wrists through the slack of her chains.
“This is a dream, remember? Its not like any of this is real. We’re going to wake up at some point, and none of this will matter,” Shaela suggested to them.
“But it does matter, doesn’t it? I mean that’s the difference between knowing something, and taking responsibility for its worth and safety,” Nelony responded to Shaela’s suggestion.
Mila began reciting the words of a poem aloud:
A dream’s a dream and life’s a game.
One’s a weave, the other’s the same.
A skeptic’s logic does wonder tame.
If possibilities are endless, then doubt’s to blame…
Mila recalled the poem, though she could not recall from where she’d learnt it.
“That’s very charming and all, but it does us little good,” Shaela responded to Mila.
“On the contrary, what good are flowers if all that one can do is see them?” Nelony posed.
“She’s right. There’ something about those words. Its cryptic…” Wes said as he rolled the poem around in his head.
“Why are you making this about me?” responded Shaela to Wes.
“I’m not…” Wes quickly responded, somewhat shocked that Shaela would imply as much, but no more shocking that the man who’d once professed to feel something for her had instead directed his affection elsewhere.
“We’re not…!” Mila quickly added defensively, not letting her take Wes.
“This whole thing has been about you and I. You and Wes, and now you’re pointing out the flaws in everything I say…!” Shaela replied, the frustration of enduring the chains clearly compounding something that was already stirring within her.
“We’re pointing out the flaws? You’re the one who just remarked at how charming Mila’s words were, but basically saying that words have no effect upon anything…” Wes quickly came to Mila’s defense against Shaela.
Shaela stopped long enough to consider the situation, which on her part was a remarkable demonstration of her sense of introspection, for patience and empathy were rarely of her strengths.
“A skeptic’s logic does wonder tame… The wonder of the weave. And I, a supposed wielder of the weave, just tamed the extent of my own abilities with nothing more than skepticism. With doubt,” Shaela realized that she’d stepped right into those words and become snared by her own ignorance of them.
“But you realized that before skepticism stopped us from trying at all. Remember, we’re just learning,” Mila saw the difficulty that the merit of learning sometimes imposed upon herself and her friends.
Mila suddenly found that the chains were gone, and that her hands and legs were freed from that which bound her.
“…and yearning…” Nelony recalled the words that Miana and Gallea had used when referring to the Sanctum.
Nelony stepped away from the bars of the cell, the chains that had bound her all but gone.
“That’s it! One feeds the other, and maintains the momentum of the weave! That poem? Its a clue that the weave is the same in reality as it is in a dream!” Mila, Nelony and Wes immediately stepped over to Shaela and tried to free her from her bindings.
“It means that as in life, even as much so in a dream, that we’re not powerless,” Shaela spoke poignantly.
Shaela’s bindings at that moment then disappeared, and she too was freed.
“Not as powerless as we convince ourselves that we are,” Nelony added.
“Yet still held prisoner by our limits,” Wes pointed out as he tried to open the door into the tower stairs leading up to the main level from the dungeon.
He grabbed at the handle of the door and found that he could not move it at all.
Shaela stepped over to the door and listened carefully by placing her ear against it.
“The coast is clear… I hope. Just in case, let me help us out a bit with something I’ve been practicing…” Shaela’s hands began moving with elegance and fluidity, weaving the aether into a ovoidal shape until she could wield it with both of her hands.
She then pulled it apart into two, and those two in half once again until she had four equal pieces, each of which she cast towards their feet.
“It silences our steps and leaves no trace of our movement. I call it shadow step,” Shaela explained to them.
“As long as it doesn’t stink and doesn’t get on our shoes,” Wes responded.
“At my gig at the animal shelter? I’ve stepped in a pile of that more than my share of times…” Nelony added.
Shaela slowly opened the door and found her way up the stairs, slowly making her way around the spiral, upwards, bound only by the walls. Mila followed behind her and then Nelony, followed by Wes.
Shaela suddenly stopped when she two guards came into view. Both had their backs to the door and were looking in the direction of the inner gate that led out away from the infrastructure buildings into the common grounds.
“Two! Back to us!” Shaela mouthed carefully, using her hand to explain their predicament.
“Perhaps we should continue up, to the next level?” Mila whispered quietly, looking back to Wes and Nelony for confirmation.
Wes and Nelony looked at each other, and then back to Mila, both of them nodding in agreement.
Mila’s attention returned to Shaela, whose eyes kept darting back and forth between the guards and Mila.
“Let’s try up,” Mila mouthed to Shaela, pointing up as her lips moved.
Shaela put her finger to her lips: “Shhhh!” and then proceeded up the stairs, carefully past the guards and on upwards to the next level of the infrastructure building.
When she arrived at the elaborately arched doorway, her jaw dropped as she was presented with architecture and scenery that was beyond imagining.
It was far beyond anything she’d thus far recalled seeing, for this level was intended only for the bourgeoise. The nobles and the wealthy were generally the only citizens with the exception of the guards and support staff, who had access to this level and above.
As they peered out from within the stairwell, still concealed by Shaela’s work with the weave, they noted the elaborate clothing worn by most who tread the floors of this level, despite the fact that from Shaela’s and Nelony’s perspective, few of them if any seemed to be doing anything at all other than speaking amongst themselves and enjoying the scenery.
“How typical. While everyone else toils to pay the price of their worth, these ones are tootling about just passing the time as if it all were for them,” Shaela exclaimed, though keeping her normally forceful voice at minimal volume.
“Tell me about it. I mean they’re so out of touch with reality. There’s animals who are being slaughtered to feed them, and people who are working their knuckles to the bone to care for them…” Nelony added, slightly frustrated at what she was seeing.
Mila found it odd that both Shaela and Nelony, who in this dream world were both one step shy of being nobles themselves, could not see through the facade of impression that their real lives had crafted for them in order to maintain their status quot and never to question the clique of their caste.
She’d seen it before. People who in their lack of experience and ignorance had crafted their own prison, usually based upon a complete misimpression of the lives and circles to which they did not have access. One that was mostly founded on hearsay and one that protected those who bound themselves to it from ever taking responsibility for their own lives and success.
Mila knew that success and progressing one’s own financial stature ultimately depended upon others, but it started from within and the realization of an attitude that liberated one from the safety of such ideas as populism. Its far easier to enjoy the safety of one’s circle and not to try to progress beyond, for when any do, they rarely get far before that same circle is holding them back, for if one elevates themselves, the others look lost and lazy by comparison. The fewer they have to confirm their lack of motivation or interest, the lonelier they are, for they often depend upon others for their own sense of meaning and happiness rather than finding it within themselves.
Mila had been to her own darkest spaces in the months following the death of her parents and at the same time, had to learn about the wealth she’d earned by the sale of the paintings from her first show. A few months on and she’d come out of hiding, and had to learn to move amongst their circles. Those for whom wealth was a substantial aspect of their lives. There within she discovered an entirely different way of seeing the world, and of how things were actually accomplished at that level, for they were not concerned with the micro-efforts of the world, but the macro. The overall big picture where many at once shaped the world in which we live.
In the months that had followed, she’d never seen pettiness or prattle amongst her new peers. Instead, for the most part, they were the movers and shakers of the world, who shaped it by the careful application of will, intent and resources, guiding, and sometimes pushing the world in order to keep it from treachery, despair or destitution, for often those focused and working at the level of the micro: the unitary idea of the effort of one versus the effort of many, did not see the rest of the forest through the trees.
Many of those people like her who’d amassed a fortune felt a sense of responsibility rather than just having the means to a free ride, though there was one thing that Mila noticed immediately amongst them all. There were few who would individually, allow themselves to be bullied collectively. Most of them were somehow hardened and fearless, even against many and their force of will and determination often protected the intent of their philanthropical side, for to them it was more than just an excuse for tax write off and bursaries from the government to shelter their fortune. It wasn’t the means for them to absolve themselves of the guilt of their wealth or anything else for that matter.
Many of them were the chairs at organizations who had armies upon armies of volunteers, pushing forward to affect some sort of positive change in the world, but even amongst these sheep, there were wolves. There were many who were there simply because it offered them an opportunity to be rid of their worst, onto someone else who wasn’t trying as hard, and therefore they could simply continue with their worst unimpeded while others carried the weight for it. There were others who volunteered because it was a currency unto itself and one spent socially in their community, without a single thought as to the fact of the reasons that such an organization actually existed. Somewhere, there was someone in need, but for many of those wolves, that need was theirs alone, and collectively they could sometimes become quite dangerous to those who contended with their attitude.
Most who headed up these boards were hardened far beyond what most could conceive of, and when confronted with such a situation, it would end in one of two ways. They’d either confront it directly themselves and replace the entire volunteer group responsible, or they’d not say a word, hire a trouble shooter, who’d do it all for them, no matter how powerful or forceful that collective was. It was one thing to collectivize a workplace for better rights, benefits and pay. It was completely a different thing to collectivize a volunteer group in order to become predatory within a community, and misuse the resources of that organization to wreak havoc upon lives there within, all the while losing sight of what the organization was actually there to achieve and why.
Mila had known some such people. Women and men who’d created entire movements based upon voluntary contribution that ultimately made a difference in the lives of the sick and the hungry, while these collective wolves had never organized any such thing in their lives, even wielding such power as they did, for they’d often turn that power towards less than intentful purposes, and it was exactly that which distinguished the difference between the two. Their will, intent and what arose from it. And yet, those who had organized it would always be the first to show honest gratitude to those who’d contributed to its success. To its goal, which was to be of use and to be of service to those of lesser health and means. A compass that many of them had built into their hearts.
Mila had also weathered times when she’d been in the presence of others who did not understand this. Who were coming from their perspective and who did not see all of these hidden aspects and the responsibility that accompanied it all. Their sharpened words sometimes hurt her, for she cared for those people, her peers, many of whom had become dear friends in the time since having lost her parents, but she held fast, and bore sympathy for them, for she knew that they truly knew not that of which they were saying. And so it was with Shaela and Nelony.
The irony was that Mila had found herself in this dream in the role of one who’d no access to these areas of the infrastructure buildings and the inner courtyard. The interior castle itself, and yet through her life’s path, she’d come to know this life better than any of them. And so it was that she decided that she’d take it upon herself to be their guide, and mostly so to help alleviate them of the weight of their ignorance, for she knew once having traversed the bridge that had brought her to that understanding, that there was no weight heavier than as much. But most who carried it had carried it for so long that they were barely aware of it at all.
“We can’t go out there like this, dressed like this I mean,” Mila urged them quietly.
“And what do you propose? A mugging perhaps?” Shaela asked sarcastically.
“No! Let me try something…” Mila began moving, subtly at first with her hands as if wielding a paint brush in each of them.
She moved them delicately through the air, leaving a stroke here and dash there. And soon each of them had the beginnings of something that went far beyond their current wear. Something immensely spectacular and yet subtle and pastel. The women were soon wearing long flowing gowns, of silk and lace, and girdles neither too tight nor loose. Their blouses too were similarly adorned with lace and frills, and a shall for each, and when they were done, Mila’s weave then carefully etched upon the skin of their faces an extraordinary palette of make-up, and finally a hand purse for them each.
She didn’t stop there, and despite Wes’ lack of presence, she painted him with a grand outfit of the court nobel, and he felt worthy to have such a woman on his arm as she.
“Good idea. That worked quite well. I’ve forgotten how far you’ve come since our effort with dealing with the environmental disaster at West Bay,” Nelony remarked, looking at herself in the tiny hand mirror she’d found in the purse Mila had painted for them.
“Not bad. Even he looks to be a handsome fellow,” Shaela added, modestly so on behalf of Mila.
“That’s better. Now, we can move amongst them freely and even those two guards won’t recognize us,” Mila’s magical brushes disappeared into her purse and she stepped out through the archway into the upper level of the inner castle.
The Castle And The Weave
He was a tall man. Taller than most at six feet and one inch, he seemed in imposing figure but he held a friendly spark in his eyes. A distant echo of hope, and not simply the opposite of fear but rather true hope, in and of itself, for hope alone much like fear was simply the unwillingness of one to take responsibility for their future. True hope however, was what one knew that with enough will, and the right kind of effort, could be bring about something truly remarkable and into fruition for the betterment of the world.
The truth was that this city, this kingdom, looked to him for such direction in these difficult times, when comradery and trust were at an all time low and the quarantine law had become the only comfort of potential safety.
The plague had affected many other places throughout the world, and news of the many tragedies that had befallen empires both distant and near had reached them much the same, though throughout they’d been spared any such disaster and any harm to their people, either from disease or enemy, and this city had few.
Until one day, it arrived at their doorstep.
“Your highness? You will be glad to hear that we’ve isolated another group of dissenters. A small one, however disruptive,” the Justician addressed Lorr.
“Justician Tenebre? You have no doubt been kept busy. The people are struggling through difficult times and so it stands that for some, that weight exceeds their ability to contain it. Hold them but only to the extent that is required by the law for any of their crimes, and no more,” Lorr ordered the Justician.
“Will that be all your highness?” asked Justician Tenebre.
“No. Not even nearly. You assured me that you’d have word of my wife’s whereabouts. Of her safety. Speak on this matter Justician,” Lorr insisted of the man who’d only an half hour previously, driven his sword into the back of one of the members of his own guard.
“She has not returned, and for her own safety given the current threat of the plague, though I do sense that there is something most unlike a woman who has sworn herself to her husband, but I dare not discuss such possibilities in your presence,” Justician Tenebre gave his answer without hesitation or any sign of bias.
“I give you permission to speak freely. I demand it. To what are you alluding?” asked Lorr of Tenebre.
“I fear that she has… I can’t speak these words,” Justician turned his eyes away from Lorr, looking down at his own two boots.
“I said speak, Justician. Do not make me say it again!” Lorr’s voice became louder.
“I fear she’s taken a lover…” the Justician did not look up. He instead remained focused at his own boots. Smiling.
“If you utter such words again, I shall remove your tongue myself. She would n’yer do such a thing. It is her safety and that of her people she’s protecting. Not a secret lover,” Lorr’s voice became stable and firm.
“Your highness, we’ve a meeting to attend within the hour to deal with these matters. The Order of Faith. The Merchant’s Union. The Commander General of the Norbids. The Temple of the Sacred Weave. The Guild of Artisans. You are no longer the only one with stake in this city, your highness, and I remind you most humbly so, and urge you to consider this,” Justician Tenebre raised his head and met Lorr’s eyes as he cowered behind the other powers of the city.
“And yet it was the vision of Lady Lyra and myself that wrought this benevolent and prosperous city from nothing, but the dirt, stone and metal across this land reshaped into everything you see. It was our knowledge of the weave that begat this process from its beginnings, and the inspired effort of the people that keep it going, more so now than in any time that has passed,” Lorr’s gaze did not break during his oration and it was the Justician who looked away first.
“I am aware your highness, and if it is as you say, then tell them, not the Commander of the Justician’s Court,” Justician Tenebre kept his eyes down, not daring to meet Lorr’s gaze again.
“Dismissed Tenebre,” Lorr watched as Justician Tenebre strode away in the direction of the Norbid barracks.
…
Lady Lyra stood near the back of the tent, a large one with a great interior and a tall roof. It was decorated with paper lanterns and silk curtains, giving it an oddly inviting beauty and a sense of comfort despite their makeshift settlement having been erected in a closed valley, bracketed to the north and south by mountains leaving only the east and west as their only route of flight.
Despite her lack of restful sleep, she still exuded an energy far beyond that of most, and a near endless sense of optimism despite the perils that plagued her.
Before her, nine ladies and three men sat on an elaborate area rug, twelve students in all. Near the entrance to the tent stood two guards, both of them Norbid Magi as the Commander General of the Norbids had demanded that a Norbid detachment accompany Lady Lyra throughout her quarantine away from the city and their ears caught bits and pieces of the lesson, which they regarded far below their own ability, very much affording Lady Lyra a sense of secrecy even in the midst of those from whom she was attempting to hide such treasure.
“Now breath deeply, drawing from your lower abdomen and filling first your belly and then your chest. Hold it, and let it out slowly. With every breath you draw, there is the Aether. I permeates everything. It is alive with its own curiosity but no will to act upon it. It is drawn to body, mind and essence and seeking direction…” she explained to them as they sat upon the rug, each of them cross legged and breathing in a quiet yet purposeful manner.
“When you draw it from the air, it feeds your life. Your very essence and becomes the expression of your will…” Lady Lyra explained to them.
“But what if one is thinking bad things? Won’t it follow that aspect of their will?” asked one of the male students.
“No. Your thoughts and your will are two separate aspects of your existence. Think of your thoughts as the place where you are free to explore every aspect of being, from the deepest and darkest places of your essence right through to the peak of your light. It is the place where you learn unhindered. It isn’t where your designs find root to become your will manifest, but it is the place where you explore potentia. Possibility. What never is or was. Simply that which is independent of an interconnected state of being. where we mostly learn to understand ourselves. It is the initial place from whence we move forward to interact with others while retaining a sense of self. As such, it is the first aspect of our being that begins our journey into empathy: the ability to understand others by relating the joy and pain of their experience to our own. The yearning is that deeply rooted longing of our essence to find purpose and meaning in the learning. In understanding the Aether and the nature of everything. The Aether looks to us, and to all other living things, giving us the ability to shape the very fabric of reality. Deep within our mind is where we first learn to explore the aspects of being that open the doors to that trust, because it is a contract between the Aether and us all, and one of which we’ve been a part since our birth and before…” Lady Lyra paused and looked to them ensuring that they were each breathing purposefully and tasting its propensity for life within.
“And what if I long to say… reach inside of Yara’s mind, and peek at her thoughts? Cojoin mine with hers?” asked another one of the men.
“There is a difference between what you think and what you intend, and even what you will to be. Yara’s mind is within that sacred space that is hers, and if you were to attempt to shape the Aether in such a way so as to bypass her barriers and to peek inside, you’d be committing a heinous act of violation of one’s being, for in our experience as we’ve ventured for centuries trying to understand the great and secret weave, all who do attempt to step beyond that boundary are in one way or another, attempting to subvert will, and most that do this, attempt to do so from a collective mind and without permission. What goes on in your mind, is yours and not requiring you to answer for it to anyone else, for it is the place where you are free to learn and understand the world absent of the biases of others, for most bias when directed outward or forced upon others, is a form of tyranny and control. Would you reach into a child’s head and make them answer for their play and if one were to do so and were discovered, how would it play out for them thereafter? Ironic given the fact that most people who’d delve into mind are most often looking to exploit a person based upon what they find. The ultimate playground of their creativity with all of its tremendous wonders and frightening terrors. A person’s deepest secrets lay within, and history thus far as shown us that such secrets are almost always wielded for their power over others. When one or many steps over those bounds, they are almost always doing so over matters of the subverting of the privacy and the will of others. Trust is the truest form bond between people, and complete trust is the most true form of love there is. Those who’d break into the mind of others are often of the worst ill and intent for the rest of humanity, and more often than not, their doing so has stirred up more conflict than any other source there has ever been…” Lady Lyra looked Aswal to answer him.
“What if I were to merely think about violating Aswal’s mental space but without acting upon it to make it so?” confirmed Yara herself of Lady Lyra.
“The essence is eternal. The mind is sacred and the body is will. None of us could upend essence of anyone else anymore than we could for ourselves. It is the very aspect of being, but without mind and body. Your thoughts are mind and therefore your own, and you’re free to think them, no matter what they are. They are not manifest, nor do they create reality without the trust of the Aether, but the Aether is naive and can be misled, therefore it is our sense of will and purpose that is the front gate to how we affect the world and how we change it. Shaping the world via the Aether and without physical action is possible via will. Asserting one’s own intent upon the Aether to weave it without the use of Thaumaturgical means like an artist’s hands, shaping a sculpture. The boundary between what you think, and what you will upon the world is entirely within your grasp. Separating what you think from what you intend and what you will is the difference. If you wish to think about getting into Aswal’s mind wreaking whatever fancy you hold within your thoughts is entirely yours, until you attempt to make it manifest through your intent and will, and only then. Remember, the greatest violation of another human being is their trust. There has yet to be a conflict where such a crime was not instrumental in the outcome,” Lady Lyra explained to them.
“But how is it possible for anyone to protect this and to enforce it? These ideas you’re teaching us?” asked Nenmil.
“It isn’t. That’s what makes trust so important. Most who try to subvert these secret aspects of conduct attempt to get around them by other means. For instance, there have been very secretive attempts to by other orders to subvert all practitioners by breaking into the minds of everyone as a collective, and getting past the mind barrier of all, to get at their secrets and then to make those secrets the social weight of everyone else around them. This is how tyranny pits people against one another. By digging into the minds of others and making their thoughts the burden of everyone else, and as a result, most people, including the most astute, end up running in circles and chasing ghosts as a result of this burden, which is often implemented by the very people who violate that sanctity themselves. It is a form of power they hold over everyone, and whenever in history thus far it has appeared, it was always a struggle of generations to eliminate it and tame the malice and tyranny that rose as a result of its effort upon civilization. It is the forbidden architecture and part of the tyrant’s tools. We live by trust in these matters, but when you feel the invasive energy and hateful voices of those violating your mind barrier, that is a sign that they have risen from their depths and are attempting once again to subvert humanity. From voices without bodies within the mind, to break down the gates of humankind,” Lady Lyra explained to them the about the first Wytch wars.
“You are without doubt, and none can take your essence, but in your trust, think freely, intend well and act responsibly. That is what it is to be a Wytch of the Sacred Weave. Sleep on this tonight, and Yara? Aswal? Stay out of each other but if you do want to traverse that boundary between you, then I suggest that one of you fill out an application for the other. I believe there is still room for courting good company between a lady and a man, even from outside of the safety of the Sanctum’s walls. Dismissed,” Lady Lyra smiled at them and they stood, thanking their teacher each one of them in turn as they left through the front of the tent.
Lyra stood silently for a moment, facing the back of the tent, her face full of worry and concern for the city that they’d fled a six day ago when she heard the sound of hooves as they stepped off of the dessert sand and onto the gravel that lined the interior of the stone canyon.
By the time she’d turned to face the entrance to her tent, a man had stepped through. He was thin and lean, but not much taller than her, if only to be standing near five feet and nine inches in height. He wore a purple and black cloak, lined with symbols etched in true mercurial silver thread, each of them glowing ever so slightly in the dim light of the tent. His moustache was long and dangled from the sides of his mouth, twisted into braids, each held in place with a sapphire bead and a knot at their end. The top of his head was clean shaven and lined with tattoos.
“Lady Lyra, I return to you bearing ill news, and at least some small glimmer of hope, though I would prefer to rescind this news to you in that order?” the man spoke in a deep midtone voice.
“It is a relief to see you again Deoardin, though I have to admit that I’d have preferred to see you again in person at the city. Please do tell of me this news you bear,” Lyra responded to him.
“As you wish. I regret to inform you that the Court Vice has fallen, as has his Apothecare…” Deoardin spoke, his voice still firm and bearing only the tiniest of a hint of the pain that accompanied his news.
“Celdin has fallen? When did this come to pass?” Lyra’s voice wavered as she struggled to hold back tears.
“He was in his death throes upon my passage through the front gates and by the time I’d made it to his triage, his breath had passed, as had that of Leuwain,” Deoardin kept his gaze high, but none so much as to impose any imposition to hers.
“The plague…?” she confirmed with him.
“Aye Milady. Both of them, but Justician Tenebre assured me that they held on as long as they could. That the chattering death had staid itself until their final moments,” Deoardin assured her.
“He was always a strength to our city, and certainly even more so with one such as Leuwain caring for him. I find it unbearable that this cruelty took a woman such as her, who has singlehandedly saved so many. The irony hidden to us by the great and sacred weave… can be so…” her bottom lip quivered and the first tear fell from her lashes before her gaze found the tent rug beneath their feet.
“Incomprehensible Milady,” Deoardin responded in suggestion.
“Purposefully so, or lets us hope. Cryptically so as if to imply some kind of meaning beyond our understanding?” Lyra’s tears continued to fall.
Deoardin remained silent on her words.
“…and the good news?” she found the strength to liff her chin.
“There have been signs that the scourge is loosing its grip. A number of the guards have made a full recovery and even more of the Norbids. They’ve begun channeling the Aether by the direction of Master Apothecare Alderess. They’ve not had a night of chattering death in two. That is surely a sign that this scourge is losing momentum Milady,” Deoardin offered her.
“Perhaps their good health itself might be contagious as well. That does offer hope, yet only a glimmer. But it is a glimmer I’ll gladly embrace rather than the passing of another’s breath,” Lyra finally turned to look at him.
“And you Deoardin, how are you holding out?” Lyra asked the Master Thaumaturgist.
“It is not necessary for you to hold concern for me Milady, for I am here to serve you,” Deoardin yielded nothing.
“And it is mine to be concerned for all, and you are not beyond that concern, with all you’ve given. Perhaps it is time that I returned to the city, if there is even this small sign of the scourge letting up. Two nights without chattering death in the barracks is worth the risk, and my citizens are my concern,” Lyra’s eyes cleared and her face firmed up with the purpose of direction.
“You’ll be no help to them should you fall ill. I feel the risk is far too great. At least give it another night. The Eaters of the Weave are clearly not in abundance this season, and therefore your safety here is far more than closer to the scourge. Will you do us this Milady?” Deoardin requested of her.
“We leave on the third quarter after Moon gaze, and that should put us at the front gate by the dawn’s early light. I will bolster the efforts of Apothecare Alderess myself. Perhaps between us we can make swift the eradication of the scourge,” Lyra stepped over to her desk and closed a book that sat there upon, carefully replacing the silk threaded mark that held its page.
“I will go and tell the Cavaliers to make preparations to leave by the second quarter, and the guards to strip down camp before they settle in. We’ll be on the whisper sand trail by the third quarter Milady. Please promise me that you will turn in and soon?” Deoardin turned to her and for the first time since his arrival, he showed the concern of a good friend.
“You in like. Dreams be well,” Lyra turned and left the tent.
“What dreams do dare anything less than your night’s wishes?” he responded, following her as she let out the slightest bit of a laugh at the gall of his words.
As the sun sank behind the canyon ridge the two parted ways, one going toward the guard’s camp and the other toward the Cavalier’s encampment.
As she stepped walked over to the entrance of another smaller tent, she uttered some unintelligible words:
“Sa ket tet nak!” her hands glowed and let out a sudden flash of light which struck the gravel, and a glowing entity crawled up from the dirt with a thick body and a tiny head with two glowing eyes.
It towered above her tent, gravel and sand billowing from it as it stood guard.
As Deoardin approached the Cavalier encampment, he took notice of several vultures circling the sky a distance away on the other side of the canyon.
“McDorville! Prepare to depart by the second quarter of the Moon’s gaze this night and post guards before you settle in. I think there’s a chance we might have visitors tonight,” Deoardin ordered the Captain.
“Aye. It is good to see your face healthy and sound my friend. There’s still some stew in the pot from late dinner. If we’re leaving so early and there’s a chance we’ll be in for some company before first light, then I’d suggest you get your fill,” the Captain suggested to him.
“I’ll have bread upon waking. Besides, there’s little more so potent than a Thaumaturgist with an empty stomach,” Deoardin responded as he stepped over to his tent.
“Lets hope they’re not looking to have breakfast of us…” Captain McDorville gestured toward the vultures.
(October 20, 2026 – 17:00 EST – I’ll try to write some more tonight…)
Coming soon… More to come September 25, 2026
Credits and attribution
Special thanks to Butterfly Yaya Han @ yayahan.com and the world of comics and cosplay, who have certainly given inspiration and wings to an entire creative side of things with regard to costume and props. May they rekindle that sense of innocence that we somehow lost on our way along the road to adulthood. On that note, I’d also like to thank Kropserkel for the same inspiration and to remind you that you can see Kropserkel’s work on the movie Resident Evil: Apocalypse [Nemesis]. Kropserkel has been one of the most prevalent and enduring forces holding the torch for a return to Battlestar Galactica, a show which was born during the same era that gave us Buck Rodgers (Erin Grey and Gil Gerrard).
Special thanks to Twilight Zone Night Club circa 1985 on 185 Richmond Street, Toronto, Ontario, Canada. So many important experiences happened there and with so many friends that I’d be a lonely fool not to remember them.
Thank you to the clubs that followed, and to Wes, who ran many of them including Guvernment, Joker, and the Big Bop to name a few. Thanks Wes. 😉
Thank you to BCR, Phil and Dylan. True artists of a kind, including Skippy.
Thank you to Andrew R., Frank A, Michael S., Joan M., Janice L., Bernard, T.J., J.M., Jun, Nelson, Chris, Angela, Barry and Miguel and so many others. Keep the spirit of art alive. Nelson, remember that first song I played on the piano at the soup restaurant on Lakeshare Blvd at lunch? That’s our Koan. 😉
Special Thanks To Rocket Fuel Lakeshore Blvd West, perhaps the best place in history to get a coffee, circa 2001-2004. Miss you all very much. Its great to see that special place still inspires so many.
Special thanks to Udemy, whose courses I have relied upon for the last few years to allow me to grow my skills at my own pace, even finding time between my frantic work pace here at Shhhh! Digital Media.
Special thanks to Perplexity AI and their Comet browser, who have recently become a part of my software toolkit. Their AI powered helpers accelerate your research, reference at every step of the way, not to mention built in tools for content generation, though Shhhh! Digital Media does not rely on text generation for any of its stories, though I do work with AI for suggestions, and scientific accuracy of concepts in Butterfly Dragon, and for delving into the more esoteric traditions of mysticism that are aligned with the story and background of Era of the Spellbound.
Artwork: Amy Wong, Wendy Pusey, Ghastly, Birdman, Brian Joseph Johns, Daz3D, Unreal Engine…
Tools: Daz3D, Corel Painter, Adobe Photoshop, Lightwave 3D, Blender, InstantID, Sadtalker, Google Colaboratory, Microsoft Copilot (Windows 11), Hitfilm, PhotoPea (a great web based Photoshop stand-in if you’re on a low budget or in a pinch), Borderline Obsession…
Shhhh! Digital Media 2026 Tools: Word Press, Gutenberg, Blockspare, Sliderberg, Rank Math SEO, Elespare, JS Archive List, Google Site Kit, Ultimate Blocks and WProofReader.
SEO is an entire mountain unto itself. My advice is to content creators is to set aside a budget for professional SEO setup and management. It’ll give you much more time to focus on creating meaningful content. If you’re budget limited, then stick to the easy optimizations and build up your audience until your budget includes room for professional SEO.
Mage Flow AI model which I’m using increasingly for editing and occasionally, generation from text.
DeepSeek AI for suggestions on exercises to improve aspects of describing scene and settings with a more sensory focused grammar.
InstantID by: Wang, Qixun and Bai, Xu and Wang, Haofan and Qin, Zekui and Chen, Anthony.
Research Paper Title: InstantID – Zero-shot Identity-Preserving Generation in Seconds.
Sadtalker by: Zhang, Wenxuan and Cun, Xiaodong and Wang, Xuan and Zhang, Yong and Shen, Xi and Guo, Yu and Shan, Ying and Wang, Fei.
Research Paper Title: SadTalker: Learning Realistic 3D Motion Coefficients for Stylized Audio-Driven Single Image Talking Face Animation.
Two Minute Papers: A YouTube channel dedicated to computer science geared towards the end of the advancement of computer graphics technology.
Gratitude: Our Mentors, Senseis, Sifus, Sebomnims, lifetime inspirations, family, friends, the Nomads (ask Stanton about that one), the Music, the Movies, the Theatre, the Arts, ASMR, (both YouTube and Bilibili and the many other creators on those platforms), the Gaming and Developer communities and of course, the audience.
Martial Arts (in the words of real experts and at least one comedian)
- https://brucelee.com (home of the real Dragon and an entire family of inspirations)
- http://iwco.online International Wing Chun Organization (International presence of a very scalable intensity martial art, protected and developed by Shaolin Nun Ng Mui) and the alma mater of Jinn Hua’s own specialized variation thereof,
- https://iogkf.com International Okinawan Goju-Ryu Karatedo Federation (even Hanshi had his teachers),
- https://itftkd.sport International Taekwondo Federation (Here there be Tigers),
- https://tangsoodoworld.com Tang Soo Do World (the path of Grandmaster Chuck Norris),
- https://www.aikido-international.org International Aikido Federation (how else would Navy Chef Steven Seagal liberate a
Nimitz Class Aircraft Carrier from a team of hijackers?), - https://www.stqitoronto.com Shaolin Temple Quanfa Institute (The City Of Toronto’s own Shaolin Temple),
- https://www.enterthedojoshow.com Master Ken’s Ameri-Te-Do presence (If we can’t laugh at ourselves, then we can at least laugh the loudest at others, and other Zen)
Thank you to the Divine Miss M and to Ms. Hirose of our Own for the inspiration for the character Aikiko Tanaka. May they always embody the empowerment of women and their self determination, despite the direction that some of the stories on Shhhh! Digital Media might take.
Magic (performance, illusion and perhaps the real thing)
- Magic Week Archive Videos from the history of the performance magic masters.
- Doctor Angela’s Symposium Learn about the truth and history of magic from a scholarly Phd. A great informed resource of both knowledge and speculation.
- Da’at Darling A student of the esoteric mysteries ✶ Thelemite & Pagan YouTuber • Podcaster • Author of Planetary Theurgy (2026) Creative Director of Katharsios Press. She’s a real busy Wytch.
- Real Witchcraft in Romania An insightful video whose central subjects are all witches in the country which originated the Dracula and Undead mythos that still pervades modern society to this day.
Special thanks
- Aitrepreneur
- Mickmumpitz
- PixelArtistry
- Hugging Face
- YouTube educational content producers
- AI content production pipeline
- AlphaSignal
Martial Arts Education, Courseware And Artisanship
- Jade Xu
Ladies and gentlemen, this is the lady who will choreograph and perform all of the Butterfly Dragon’s martial arts performance sequences if ever there is a live action version. Regardless, Jade Xu is an inspiring Wushu martial arts performer, along with her cast of co-stars, they really bring performance encounters into next level experiences for all to enjoy. - Aikido Shinburenseijuku
Experience the spirited tradition and execution of waza (technique) through the expertise and guidance of Shirakawa Ryuji, each of his videos exploring intriguing and applicable aspects of this circular and angular focused martial art, but most of all, step away from the claustrophobic perspective of many martial artists with regard to this branch of jujitsu, and learn to understand the true dynamics and application at play here from a renowned master. - Martial Club
These fellows are the living embodiment of performance martial arts, producing absolutely vivid and incredible action stories, taking martial arts to the next level. They’re literally doing what I’d always hoped I could do with Butterfly Dragon, but with their own well written and performed live action stories and stunts, after gruelling rehearsals and training to achieve their ambitions. In their own humble words: promoting the virtues and ethics of traditional martial arts in the modern world. - Shi Heng Yi Shaolin Training For Self Mastery
A reknowned Sifu under whose tutelage you can study the theory and practical applications of the Shaolin Arts for health, physical and mental wellbeing in every day life. His online and self-study courses offer students the chance to train in the comfort of their own choosing, and at their own pace under Shi Heng Yi’s informed guidance. - Jesse Enkamp: Karate Nerd
Jesse, a reknowned Sensei who runs his own dojo, explores the world of Martial Arts, traveling around the world to many exotic locations to meet practitioners of a variety of different arts. Truly an adventurer into the world of martial arts, delving into new territory with every video.
Jesse’s Kobudo Mastery at kobudomastery.com
Jesse’s Karate Flexibility & Mobility Training
Jesse’s Strength Training for Karate - Rokas Sensei: Martial Arts Journey
A reknowned Sensei of Aikido who in seeking to understand the roots of Aikido and its applications, seeks to stress test its effectiveness in a number of real world situations while studying its history.
Rokas Sensei has also developed an incredible seasonal series called the Ultimate Self Defence Challenge that introduces select martial artists from the world over to face challenges that test their rank and mettle against other competitors. An absolutely amazing series with top notch production. - Seamus O’Dowd
An extensive and growing archive Katas, Techniques and Waza (mostly Shotokan), focusing on form, precision and technique. - Iaido: Train For Katana Mastery Like Samurai
The original weapons focused curriculum under which Samurai became masters of their art. - Tapp Brothers Exercise For Better Motion
Extensive courses for calisthenics and body strength, stamina and flexibility. They offer course that are geared directly for the improvement of flexibility, athletics and overall performance.
Special thanks to Captain Shayne and his wonderful butterfly sister!
Special thanks to Bandcamp for giving indie music artists a home under one roof.
Written and published by Brian Joseph Johns, Shhhh! Digital Media.
Copyright © 2026 Brian Joseph Johns.
