Coercion

Maral headed for Ambiguberg, the logical first step on her adventure. She was searching for an unknown city, and this was the closest, largest unknown (to her) city. As soon as the it came into view she knew it was not the right one. However, not having any other leads, she decided to explore a bit.

Upon entering, the city underwent the usual afternoon shifting. Maral tried not to panic as she felt the ground moving under her feet. Looking around for an escape, she discovered she was lost and disoriented. Her anxiety increased when she noticed the complete lack of nature and the looming buildings that appeared to be closing in around her.

Feeling desperate, she tried to gather herself, but instead she bumped right into Aileen. This lovely Fairy lady was kind and able to calm her. Aileen agreed to help her find the way out.  As they walked, Aileen made conversation asking where Maral was from and what she had been doing in Ambiguberg.

Aileen was disturbed when Maral explained her odd quest. Nevertheless, there was something undefinably compelling that drew Aileen to this helpless little Gnome. However, she felt it was best to turn the conversation to a safe topic, so she began to talk about herself.

Their journey out of the city was progressing smoothly until they reached a street where Aileen instructed her to exert the utmost caution. She had barely avoided getting trampled on many occasions, but there was nothing to fear if one was alert and quick.

 While crossing, Maral noticed something bizarre- a young Elf sitting in the middle of the road.

She ran to the Elf and urged her to get out of the street. Indignantly, the Elf pushed Maral away, “I am in a state of meditation that you are violating.”

“But the street is a dangerous place to meditate. You have to move or you’ll be run over.” Maral yelled as she checked for approaching traffic. At the moment the street was empty and silent.

“What are you talking about, you odd, little creature?!” Angrily the Elf stood to face Maral. “It is my choice to be in this spot and I will not move.”

Aileen sounded embarrassed and awkward, “Maral, really, you shouldn’t force your will upon someone else. It is not the way things are done here. We need to go.”

“But she will be run over if she remains here. You said yourself this is a dangerous road.”

“Well, perhaps for she knows something I do not!” Maral stared at her until Aileen quickly turned to the angry Elf, “Excuse the interruption, I had an experience, actually quite a few experiences, here that to me felt dangerous. With this knowledge, do you still choose to remain here?”

“Yes,” the Elf said firmly and defiantly sat back down.

“Ok. Come on, Maral.” Aileen said firmly taking her arm.

Maral moved in a state of shock. She could not believe that this Elf would not listen.

Aileen had begun to walk down the sidewalk but Maral stood frozen. The noise of wheels on cobblestone racing toward them was all her brain could process. In a moment, before anything could be done they had rounded the corner and trampled the Elf.

Aileen turned and saw the mangled Elf. She screamed and ran to her, expertly dodging in and out of traffic. Aileen tried to gather the Elf into her arms. “Maral! Help me, we need to get her to a hospital!”

Suddenly, a shifting occurred that took Maral away from the tragedy, deeper into the city.

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Aileen, a Fairy of Ambiguberg, was pleased to discover that the morning’s shifting had brought many shops to her neighborhood.

The inhabitants of this city viewed shopping much like others viewed hunting. There was a sense of urgency connected with bring home their necessary prey. They must act quickly and decisively before the shifting could take them away from their neighborhood. Working far from home was a common practice, but shopping far from home could be dangerous. Though the inhabitants moved at a remarkably fast pace, being laden down with many products slowed everyone.

It was reported that a few unfortunates had dawdled too long over a purchase and had been caught be the shiftings ultimate resulting in them becoming hopelessly lost. It is believed they still wander the streets searching for their homes and family weighted down with outdated clothes and yesterday’s technological devices. To prevent this from reoccurring, the notion of swiftly buying in bulk, whenever items are available, was adopted.

Aileen, aware that she was buying more than her family needed or could ever use, rationalized this with the notion common to man- perhaps there would be scarcity tomorrow.

However, as she considered their overstocked apartment she toyed with the idea of putting back the third mega-mixer that she had just placed in her chart. A feeling nagged her that she was overspending, but she brushed the thought aside and continued her work. Her husband made a great wage and these items were all on sale.

The day proceeded well until the afternoon’s shiftings brought the dreaded mail station into her neighborhood. Those nagging suspicions started to scream as she slowly walked toward the building. She hoped that there would be a random shift, which had been happening more frequently of late, that would take the mail station far away.

That did not happen. Entering, she found her mailbox bulging, as was everyone else’s. She opened the box; out poured a stream of bills from her last two months’ worth of purchases. She had never seen so many at one time. She had always prided herself on living within their means, an outdated concept in this city. But lately, the shops had been in their neighborhood almost daily.

Ashamed, she quickly gathered them up and hurried out. At the door she bumped into her closest friend. She noticed the concerned expression on Aileen’s face and the stack of envelopes in her arms. “Wait here, dear,” she said.

Aileen watched as her friend opened her own mailbox. Four times as many envelopes, presumably bills, exploded from her’s. She gathered them up in a disorderly pile, and dumped them into a large shiny machine in the corner of the room. The shredder greedily ate all her bills.

“There now, let’s have some tea at Bitters,” her friend said with a carefree air.

Delay

Maral stood at the mouth of the path which would lead away from everything she knew. She took her first step, but the heavy weight of the knowledge that she would be alone made her pause. No one else saw the image of the hazy, unknown city. They would remain in the comfort of the known.

She thought about all the wonderful aspects of her life. She was needed here, no one could deal with the invasive vines as well as she could. She had been the pioneer of fire-dwelling and wanted to know what would happen with it. But there was now a discontentment coating all things usual. It was pushing her to begin her journey.

For weeks, she had, daily, hoisted on her massive pack and stood on the path. However, each time, she would she remember something she needed to do- or someone she wanted to speak with- or one last hug to give and receive.

But today would be the day; she would begin, Maral took an uncomfortable step forward. Her pack was just too heavy, and her legs felt like lead. Discouraged, she sat down. As she sat she realized the image of the hazy city was gone. She also realized that she hadn’t been in the fire in a very long, time so busy she had been in preparing for her journey. Had she waited too long? Had her adventure opportunity passed her by?

She stumbled to the location of the fire. Dropping her pack, she stepped in. Immediately all the weight, the burden, the anxiety, the fear evaporated. She relaxed and breathed in the good smell of the presence of the fire.

After being still a long moment, the image of the unknown city returned. Here in the fire, Maral was able to clearly see her next steps. She would unload the pack and make it a manageable weight. If she left something behind that was required, she would trust that it could be found along the way, or she could do without it.

She noticed her boots were covered with invasive vines. They didn’t want her to go. Sometime in her delay they had crept up, making movement difficult. She carefully coaxed them off. She cared for them, but they would have to remain in the forest.

The sacrifice of the little vines gave her a gift, the ability to understand something that had been long forgotten, the sacred eternal language. She spoke an unfamiliar word. It sounded weird and powerful. When she drew in breath the fire entered her lungs. Alarmed, she jumped to her feet but found she was fine, better than fine. She felt equipped.

The Priority

The fashion district in Ambiguberg receives more foot traffic than any other in the city. Everyone from the very old to the very young come to see the excellent window displays and to shop.

At the end of the block, there once resided the most dreadful thing- a street sign. It informed the pedestrians they must yield to street traffic. But window displays are so captivating that nearly everyone who reached the intersection walked into the inappropriate obstruction. While they received only minor bumps and bruises to their body, dignities were severely injured.

There was an outcry from the population for an instant remedy. The founders of the city bent their reason to the will of the people. They removed the sign. This resulted in the death of many pedestrians. In times past, they had stumbled into the yield sign and had become aware of their dangerous proximity to traffic. Thus, they avoided the danger. However now, without any obstruction, they walk directly into traffic, getting trampled and run over.

The founders realized this would not do, so they assigned crossing guards to this location. These guards had the responsibility of protecting this corner so that pedestrians would no longer stop the flow of traffic by being run over.

The guards would caution people to yield to traffic. However, the pedestrians were so engrossed in their window-shopping that they completely ignored the warnings until their path was forcibly blocked by the crossing guards. They became so annoyed by this interference that they pushed the guards into traffic.

After the founders lost serval guards to the rush of traffic, they could no longer staff thisdangerous position. They resolved this issue by placing an unobtrusive A-board sign on the corner cautioning pedestrians. In addition, they widened the street to help the traffic flow around the continual casualties.

Repurpose

The presence of the strange fire had persisted but didn’t change or grow. The fire-dwellers had increased in number. Each experience was unique. They had not organized themselves or tried to force any structure on the fire.

Those with the anti-fire sentiment didn’t interfere once it was confirmed that no damage was being done. With glum resignation, they accepted the bizarre phenomenon was now part of their culture. 

Maral, the original fire-dweller, spent so much time there that it had become her new normal. She was still dedicated to her work with the endearing, yet troublesome invasive vineage. However, every moment she could spare was spent with the fire. She was a seeker, embracing the new and the odd. 

At some point, she began to subconsciously engage in a silent conversation with the fire. An odd concept or question would occur to her, and she would respond to it in thought. Then, chasing on the heels of her response, there would be a new concept in reply. Although this was extremely unusual, it did not feel unnatural.

Everything changed the day she heard this question- what is the purpose of your life?

It was easily answerable; all Gnomes’ life purpose is to care for and guard the forest.

What if your purpose is different?

This made her extremely uncomfortable. Certainly, a few other Gnomes had left the burrow to pursue their dreams, though rare it was not unheard of. But Maral was content and happy here. She felt created to do her work. She was excellent at it. She decided to ignore the question. 

But the question would not ignore her. It clung to her until her seeker-self was compelled to considered the notion that perhaps her purpose might be something other than what was familiar. Slowly, she began to change and dream of someplace new, an unknown city. It was hazy in the daylight hours, just on the outskirts of her imagination. The details remained so consistent that she became convinced the place existed and it was calling to her. 

And so, shockingly even outrageously, she planned to go on her first adventure. Unbeknownst to her, this would be the adventure of her life. If she had known what awaited her or how she would change the world, she would never have started but she didn’t…. and so, she did.

Ambiguberg

On the western coast of Annulus, there is a magnificent city. It is like any other city except for one rather extraordinary feature, it could move itself. You see, once construction on the core of the city was completed, the founders dedicated it to liberty and freedom. They required no moral code for the city dwellers save that they do what was right in their own eyes. This gave the city no foundation.

Soon after the founding ceremony, the city blocks began to shift. The city was rearranging itself. The inhabitants thought this phenomenon wonderful. Their city should be able to decide for itself where it wanted to be. The inhabitants knew there was no city in the world that could compare to theirs and proudly determined never to leave it.

Soon the city was rearranging itself so much that none of the inhabitants knew where they worked, where they lived, or where they could find anything specific. However, this inconvenience didn’t disturb them. They adapted by becoming very fast and efficient in order to cover the most ground in the least amount of time.

After a time, the constant shifting caused a tiny hole to open in the center of the city. The hole became known as the “anomaly”. Though the founders and all the brilliant engineers tried, they could not seal it up. Instead, they warned the inhabitants to avoid the area. The anomaly increased in size because of the grinding effect of the shifting. To compensate for the loss of land and infrastructure the anomaly consumed, they expanded the perimeter of the city.

One day, a visitor arrived. He noticed the inhabitants running around anxiously looking for their homes, places of work and family members. He examined the hazardous streets. When the city shifted, the anomaly would swallow up entire buildings with all their inhabitants.

The visitor asked the founders why they did not simply build a foundation for the city to stop the shifting. Their reasonable response was to throw the visitor into the anomaly.

Sisterhood

Mountain Trolls have a warrior-like disposition. There had been a dark period in history when they became wild and wreaked havoc. Trolls have long since turned away from their bloody history and embraced civilization and reconciliation. They have perhaps overcompensated by currently being extremely affectionate.

However, young female Trolls still battle the wild tendency of their ancestors. In this generation, they often times lose the battle. They are skilled at delivering blows and efficient at inflicting pain. Frequently, they have been discovered in bloody battles. The violence had risen to such a pitch that their mothers assembled to discuss the matter. At this counsel, it was discovered, by careful examination, that insecurity was the author of the troubles.

Gathering the girls, they commiserated with the feelings of rejection as well as the power rush of rejecting someone else, and the pride of being in an exclusive group. But that kind of power and pride is shabby and ignoble, girls were meant for greater things.

The counsel of wise women searched the ancient book authored by Wisdom. They found it had long ago given them a passage that spoke clearly to this situation. They shared it with the girls.

“Each girl is important, created with a specific purpose. All are equipped with weaknesses and also strengths. First, each girl must believe the truth that she has immeasurable value within herself. This will begin the war on insecurity. It will fortify the self-esteem to render insults and rejections powerless.  As well as make her strong and confident from a righteous source rather than the confidence won by the oppression of fellow sisters.

Together, girls can do anything, but separated, things of lasting value are out of reach. When there is prolonged divisiveness in your community, change. It begins simply with one choice, followed by choices made every minute, until habits are re-forged.”

The mothers then assigned the girls impossible tasks. Each day they would reread this passage to the assembly of girls before they began their work.

It was a long slow struggle with many failures. However, with each failure the girls began to see that they were far more capable than they had previously believed. Overtime, they completely stopped their infighting.

They exceeded all expectations when they became inspired and channeled their warrior nature into power and strength for accomplishing the impossible. Their new-found confidence enabled them to silence their insecurities and work together. Unified, they were unstoppable. What they accomplished was worthy of the history books.

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The Dilemma

Noise, noise, noise constantly surrounded by noise. This was all Bakko’s fault. Had the incompetent fool done his job, intrusive neighbors wouldn’t have gone knocking on doors begging for dry wood to supply the lighthouse. Hadn’t Desta given one log out of her meager supply? Wasn’t that enough? No, Keyon, her closest neighbor, had seen her low fire, and even with the dim lighting, his shrewd eyes had seen the leaks in her front room.

He had returned later, kindly inviting her to stay with his horde of monsters for the duration of the storm season. After receiving a firm refusal, he had grown more insistent. She reminded him that it was his responsibility to parent his ill-behaved six children, not her. But he had said if she would not move in, he would alert the community to the condition in which she lived.  

“Come,” Keyon kindly said, “we need each other.”

Only the widow’s pride could force her to bend to such extortion. She knew she was not welcome or wanted. All the children of the town thought she was a witch- and all the adults thought she was certainly as ill-tempered as one.

Desta resigned to her fate. She was no free loader- she attempted to help cook but Nala, Keyon’s wife, was such a maniac in the kitchen trying to feed the greedy monsters. It was impossible to assist at all. Desta missed her quiet, cold, dark little house.

Nia, six years old, crept into the living room one day whimpering pitifully. “What is the matter, girl?” Desta snapped, annoyed.

Nia startled, she hadn’t known Desta was there. “I cannot brush my hair. Mama says she has no time. She will cut it if she sees this.” Nia proffered the worst tangle that Desta had ever seen.

“Come here, child.” Desta commanded. She grabbed the brush, intending to mercilessly brush the tangle out as she had seen Nala do. But as the little girl stood before her chair, Desta’s old hands remembered carefully brushing the hair of her daughter. Gently she worked at the knot; memories flooding her of a different little six-year-old.

Nia turned with a smile. “Thank you.” She said timidly, “I don’t think you’re a witch.”

Desta placed her hand on Nia’s head, “And I don’t think you’re a monster.”

In that moment, the atmosphere changed. Nia, as ambassador, drew all the children to Desta. All her stagnate skills from long ago resurfaced. The children found her fascinating. With the children taken care of, Nala experienced a break from her endless stream of work. She was able to rest. Gratefully, she sat and talk with Desta.

Long ago, on the day Desta had buried her last family member, she had thought the days of smiles and laughter were behind her; she was wrong. Though she would never admit it, Keyon was right- we need each other. This loud and large family that had forcibly adopted her, returned to Desta her smile.

Strange Fire

If anyone read the book written by the wise men of old, they would have known the phenomenon had been foretold. But, unfortunately, that was not done so the fire took the Gnomes completely by surprise.

In the far northwestern corner of Annulus, there is an old forest the Gnomes of Plythrage care for. The day it began Maral was in the forest, enjoying the magic of nature yet longing for an indescribable “something” more. An unnaturally bright spark materialized in front of her. Frightened she ran to alert the others.

A small patch of woods was ablaze by the time they arrived, equipped with every instrument to fight fires. They worked hard to extinguish it, but all their skillful efforts had no impact.

This strange fire not only refused to respond to the Gnomes’ modus operandi, but it also didn’t spread past the initial patch though there was plenty of available, flammable forest debris. The most bizarre aspect of this fire was that it did not consume the forest. Rather it appeared trees, old and young, were dancing with the flames.

The Gnomes’ reactions were greatly varied. Maral, dazzled by the fire drew close, while most studied it from afar. The ones that were adamantly against anything unnatural and unknown began digging a deep trench in an attempt to contain this dangerous, possibly evil thing.

Maral reached out to touch the fire. The sensation she later described was similar to that of your foot waking up after it has fallen asleep, but not as uncomfortable, followed by a pleasant sensation of tingly-lightness. At first, she could stand the sensation for only a moment, but after enough exposure to it, she entered the fire.

She returned with a brightness of expression never seen before. She was the same but different. She could only describe what had happened within the fire by saying it was liberating and wonderful. Many others summoned up their courage and entered the fire.

It was undeniable, there were changes from flame-dwelling. Those pro-fire felt they had a new perspective, endless joy and an increased energy level. Those that were anti-fire described the changes occurring as acting childish, even foolish, lacking gravity and common sense.

The fire-dwellers were universally considered very strange, indeed. It depended who you asked whether that was defined as something wonderful or something dreadful.

Time would tell.

Lighthouse

Flint is a town of Giants. There it is universally acknowledged that the most boring job is keeper of the lighthouse. This was not always so. There were many seasons when the lighthouse profession was full of excitement and suspense- namely when the great storms attacked both land and sea. But, for years now, the storms have avoided the area. Some think, never to return.

Young Bakko had become an apprentice to the lighthouse during the last season of storms. Everything was well until the original keeper, Tabor, retired, thus propelling Bakko into sole responsibility of this house. He began to realize the full measure of solitude being the keeper required.

The consistently fine weather made lighthouse keeping dull work. Though he tried to fight it, grumbling overpowered his good nature and tainted his outlook with gloom. He felt he spent so much time tending the beacon’s fire for a perpetually empty sea. Discouraged, he did progressively less work each day.

His lackadaisical approach to his work climaxed when he accepted an invitation to a celebration that was unwise to attend given the unfavorable location and time. Bakko was enjoying himself until something happened that hadn’t occurred in years, an ominous easterly wind began to blow. He rushed back to the lighthouse with a sense of foreboding dogging each step.

There was old, faithful Tabor doing his best to chop wood. Out at sea, a wall of thick black clouds was speeding towards them. Ashamed, he knew the fire in the brazier was weak and trembling, and there was no wood ready to restore it.

Tabor was yelling instructions to him over the roar of the wind. Together they worked as quickly as they could to restore the beacon. Finally, there was a strong blaze and the two looked out at the dark storm. Tabor’s experienced eyes saw the wreckage before Bakko’s had. He ran to call for aid.

The Giants in town rushed to the shore to fish the sailors out of the freezing water. Bakko stood frozen as the weight of his failure fully settled upon him. Tabor was soaked and angry when he returned.

Tabor pointed out at the wreckage, “That is the result of carelessness.” Then he took a deep breath to calm himself. “The sea is never empty. You can’t abandon your post. Remember this night and remain diligent, even on the sunny days.”

All through that night the lighthouse led many ships to safety. Bakko would always remember; he rededicated himself to the lifesaving importance of always keeping the light burning.

The quiet days are over. Wake up from your numb nap. The great storms are upon us. - Tabor