Chapter 2

The morning broke clear and frosty, a bit of dew on the leaves. Well that did not go too well...

The Fugue is too strong, the bell jar has descended. Bolts of white lightning had shot out of oblivion, torrents of hot gleamy mind fragments hailed from the vaulted heavens...
Now a gray pall settles into the cracks and crevices and what is left of human personality still festers and moulds.
O bottomless depths of night drought, how shall we bring back the flickering shards of glinty perception?

Tellavand was the place we last met.
Gallarand was the last place I spoke to her.
Hellarag is where I reside now.

Granted we shared some time in this particular local, conditions being what they are, still one can give thanks for any time at all spent together.
All is not lost, my soul is intact, some interest in this conditional refurbishment lingers, hope, that least promising of words still lingers.
When in the time it takes to walk from one end of infinity to the other, where some one must stand, at particular point...
Just how did it come about that I have to spend eternity in the o so not friendly confines of my skull? Rokys bloody hammer, Daniels town of the Devil, and my foolish grin all renting space on the same planet at the same time, what sublime farce.
We have walked down the same path, the road of resurgence, ever shaking off the awareness of awareness.

Hat flip into the back kip
Swing to a you can do so woo too.
Reboil snakes in oil, trout burst out.
Dijon is mum, shes the one.
Got gout, stupid lout.
Pansy tansy, cant stand me.
We do diddle fiddle with me spittle.
Cracker jack, cant bring her back.

So that is how it has to be, I am going to plunge onward, try not to think too much about it. Hurts to think about it. Why do I dwell on the state of things.

Fractal Chaos Theory
Quantum Decoherence
Carrot Top

To envision world-me in such a manner...

Egregious lethargic mistake.
ELM

He sat on the log and looked around at the forest. “What a funny place to find my self”, he said. “Why it is almost like all this is made up, some sort of fairy tale”.
Just then an old woman dressed in rags approached him from out of the brush. “And what brings you to the wood old maid?” Standing up he could see that she was very old and had an evil grin on her face.
“Why I am out for a morning stroll and come across boys playing camp at the edge of my wood”.
Laughing she peered up at the officer, “When all is come across, when all is lost, there shall be brought to us your heart on a cross”.
“So you think me game for your thoughtless riddles, begone hag, before I set the dogs upon you!”
The hunched old woman crept close, hissing through missing teeth;
“Great cat. Nine lives sky of blue, she will forget all that you knew, for while I stand here, your doom has once again grew!”

With a great shriek she ran off into the woods.
“Come back, I don't think that was grammatically correct!”
Turning to the camp the officer wondered.
“How do they find me?”

Chapter 1

A Journeys Start.


“Been there”, the old man was saying, “about two days walk past Belfor forest, fairly easy jaunt I do say”.
“So you have seen the castle?” I said, fairly incredulous.
“You bet sunny boy, dilapidated old haunt it is. Didn't stick around, kinda spooky up there.”
So that was it, I thought, the rumors of the place were true, but what about the rest?
“Did you see any of the mythic folk about the place?”
“I saw...


So that's it, I see Sylvia's point now, writing a story is o' so tedious! So much must be said, so much described, he said, she said, he went, she went.
Its a slow grind out.
Way too much like work.
Thats it for my novel career!

Billlinks, besotted bellows!
I will a willy winkel
too Tad a tooley toon!

So much better, not being fixed in the probability field, none of that collapsing wave form for me, no sir!
But what than? Rambling discourse?
Quick poet wit?
Stream of unconsciousness?
The big questions don't interest me, nor does the small everyday stuff, what to do?



“I saw a pixy fly into the gate, but other than that nothing unusual.”
“Thank you sir!” with a friendly wave I departed from the old fella. This was exciting stuff, mythic beings dwelling in a haunted old castle, perhaps my supply mission could take a small detour, I did not need to arrive at the fort for two weeks, the Major would not be too concerned with a small delay.

“Hitch up the wagon, we are taking the Belfor road!”
“But captain that route oughtn delay us gettn to the fort, timely like.” Lunder said. The Sargent was obviously distraught.
Don't worry man, that bit of crumpet you got waiting wont get spoilt by a few days sitting!”
I laughed heartedly, so myopic that mans sense of the world.
“Why, a once in a lifetime chance to see beings from days gone by, and all you can think on is a bit o tart, open your eyes my good Lunder, so much to see, so many things yet unknown to us, wide open vistas ahead!”

Grumbling he had the men hitch up the wagons and we headed out of the village, the mysterious ruined castle our new goal.



Well we cant have too much going on in our minds now, this never ending stream of quantum revelation, this hustle possibility, of things, places, and people, all crowding about this singularity point of wave field collapse. All this stuff, an infinite amount actually, bursting to get in,
in to what?
My conscious awareness quantum modulator.
My head
My tomb.
This dead place where infinity goes to die.

Huka juka, is this story gonna get stucka? (You may say it already sucka).
Riters block, twist and knot.
This life of mine consists of rot.



The wagon was creaking under its heavy load of hardware, as we neared the edge of the forest. The sun was just on the horizon, the clouds a wispy pink.
I said; “We shall set up camp by the side of the road here, the trees will provide some shelter in case of rain.”
“But captain, what about the wolves, we wont see em coming from next to the forest here!”
“Shut yer gob!” Sargent Lunder yelled. “Ain't been no wolves in these parts fer fifty years, ya scardy cat.”
Random bickering ensued amongst the men as camp was set up.
My unit consisted of myself and the Sarge, plus a dozen regulars. And a supply wagon. And here I was.
Me, as fine an officer and gentleman as the royal army had produced, driving wagon!
I had suddenly found myself volunteered for the supply run the day after the card game, winning a weeks pay from the major had proven to be tactically wise, but strategically foolish.
Just my luck I had thought, until happening upon the villager and his tales of mythic beasts and treasure in the old castle. Now an opportunity had presented itself for me to perhaps get back my winnings, and more, a lot more.



Was there a time I had believed in a dream? That my vision of what could be for my life was not sealed off by the impenetrable wall of the laws of multi dimensional physics. How could such a dreamy lad have fallen so far? From dream to scream?
Where is the seam? Quiver light moon beam.
Halcyonic historonic, all this is just moronic.
Swill my fill, cancel out my will.
Till...
Till
Till dawn

Well...

Well it is late, no we can not stay up too late, all right I shall write just a little, cant you see I am trying the best I can, well I suppose I ought to come to some kind of point, you have just got to believe I have something to say, that's it we have reached the end.