Harry's notes: More on the short introduction of Ad Primus Rem. New characters. Some answers. Enjoy, and please talk to me; am I amusing you?
Harry let his body fall to the ground when it reached his position, centered above the spot where the crackling paths of connection met and writhed around his mind; his body curled into a fetal shape, discarded below his imagination; he looked about, feeling as if he were in a room with a project pending that could be hurriedly completed from the unlabeled bins in that room, stuffed with parts and pieces. Those bins must be inventoried before any progress was made. It was an unorganized environment of chaos, in neat little packages.
That gave Oldman food for thought, his favorite dish. He studied the construct formed in Harry's thought. Words came from him in a questioned phrase, as he examined the configuration created in Harry's mind from many perspectives.
--Do you mean, Organized Environment? He questioned. Silence, then Harry's body took a great breath of air.
"Awarenessssssssssssss" The exhaled word carried away in the night becoming sibilant hissing static.
Oldman felt a prickling, as if hair stood from his mind. He examined the bins, shifting them into a pleasing arrangement. Harry's thoughts moved quickly, centering in the chilling, crackling lines of force as they expanded across the boundaries of all environments. It felt as if the very air around him was being wadded, twisted, and torn in the nearness of his concentrated manifestation. Harry studied the phenomenon from new perspective. A sheened globe, like a great soap bubble, popped into existence around them.
They hung in a silent bubbled doorway of Harry's conscious; the shining paths led away in all directions under the sheltering trees below the summit. A questing intensity came from his presence, answered by Oldman, as he occupied the body in the shining suit to stand and walk over the leaf-carpeted floor to a nearby deadfall. He began breaking a stout limb from it easily with the strength of the armored suit.
--There is only one thing to do. It's your idea after all. Oldman said, striding back to the stone where Harry hovered among the nest of writhing paths. He raised the make shift staff high, saying forcefully.
--Knock! He struck the limb against the stone with a force that sent shattered shards and splinters about the nexus, then threw the broken remainder to the ground. The sound of the three mighty strikes rebounded in the silence.
THRUMumum, THRUMumum, THRUMumum.
***
Mira looked to where Oldman struck the limb against the earth. The sound echoed away over the hills; she watched the silver suit pause to look around itself and then turned and walked away into nothing. She reported, asking for instructions, while watching the empty spot on the hill with surprise. All had seemed a pleasant lark until now, except for the strange actions and behavior of Harry. Now, she had lost him; She turned about the empty hill, searching for any hint of him.
***
A strand of shining path began to tremble as if a spider crawled over it toward prey; it became still again.
--Label that one for sure, muttered Oldman. They walked a short way along it, setting off their own trembling reaction of the path. Harry's awareness moved back into his body as they halted, looking down into the distance of it.
A green nimbus came toward them; hissing sound grew as did the image that was seen to be the Green Warrior, striding into sight as he had when first encountered by Harry. The moon lit shadows of the forest floor appeared as a window high above yet near.
He stopped a short distance away; they studied each other. It was apparent he was Fay; his mind was as distinguishable as if a man and animal were standing together. Harry hesitated, and then took a step toward the glowing green figure. He peered into the smoked lenses that made the eyes of the owl helmet and blinked in surprise as they became clear. A huge pair of magnified eyes looked back; they were green as good emeralds and seemed to hold their luster too. The effect was unexpected and eerie; he found himself a step away without conscious volition.
They stood in close proximity; their thoughts held closely. The green man looked intently, as his enormous eyes searched over Harry's features, and then he spoke. The sound of his thought felt ancient, weary yet strong in its obligation to interdict intruders. The sword was held ready in its hand.
--You are the one who blundered about my door, he accused. ...I followed you in my thoughts until I fell asleep one night and then woke the next morning with a blinding head. You slipped from my thoughts like a fish wiggling about in the hand and falling back into the stream. Now you knock on my door that has not seen visitors in many times. You wear the shining armor of my people although you are human. The cloak of mating hangs from your shoulders and the love of her shines forth strongly over your armor in royal colors. The icon of service is on your left arm and an emblem of achievement on your right. You stand alone before me with no sword.
--Well, he's not exactly alone. Oldman said in a matter of fact thought. The green man's thought was like an untaken breath, though he never moved. The magnified eyes narrowed as he processed the knowledge.
--A Dreamers familiar! He said in surprise.
Harry noticed that no cloak hung from the green armor and felt a pang of sympathy, easily read by the warrior before him, and commented.
--You have felt the soul fire also; he said in thought that revealed his own cured pain.
--It burns in him still, Oldman declared. ...He has seen eons of the smoldering coals fed stingily by despair and duty. A burst of amusement emanated from the green warrior.
--You are truly a thief of thoughts. He said, searching Oldman's presence.
--You are no slouch yourself. Tell me, do you play poker?
--No, but I think I would like to. He answered, searching Oldman's seemingly open thoughts and examining rules, play, and nuances.
Harry raised questioning eyebrows, and then realized that they were not visible under the scaled helm. He unsealed his helmet and removed it, revealing his bespectacled hirsute face.
--Excuse me, will you accompany us to the entrance for a moment. Harry asked, as the conversation veered away from more pressing things.
--I will stand in the doorway; I can go no further. Harry looked puzzled for a moment, then realized it was because of duty, not inability that he must stay within the path that led elsewhere.
--Come then, he said with a smile, moving the few short steps to where the forest sheltered the notch of the hill.
***
Mira watched closely for any sign of Harry's return and waited for instructions. A short time passed and he came striding out of nothing again. He called for her and the jug that had accompanied them to the summit, then waited as she stood beside them, looking into at the strangers eyes that returned her stare keenly.
--A young one, the green warrior thought in wonder at the first Fay seen in eons.
--Not so young! Mira said, burning brighter with emotion and action. Her colored globe swirled with fiery brilliance, expanding and then contracting into a wisp of a young woman; her slender form looked to the green man with the prideful reality of her new found maturity. Her lavender aura waved in irritated wing like ripples.
--Your pardon, my lady. He said, with a sweeping movement of sword and arm; ...I meant no offence.
--Mira send, "momentous steps." Harry held out his hand to her and waited; she took it, watching behind her with some trepidation as the forest disappeared from sight. Slowly they walked away along the shining path.
--We have much to talk of, Harry sent to him, as they moved along the path that showed its exit dimly, far ahead. He remembered ceremony and spoke again. ...But first... He stopped and took the jug from Mira's hand and opened it, holding it high, saying with bowed head and with a great somber feeling of respect that was joined by Oldman.
--Ed ga ri, we greet you. Edgar looked into his eyes, from the hidden recesses of his helmet, as Harry drank. His form seemed to shiver, as if cold had suddenly penetrated the glassine armor he wore. Unsealing and removing his helmet revealed hair as white and long as Margay's; his flowing beard appeared snow glistened with frosty strands of energy. He sheathed the sword, still carried in his right hand, in a scabbard hanging from his back and dropped the helm, taking the jug from Harry's proffered hands. Mira bent, retrieving the helmet from the path, and looked up to Edgar as she rose beside him.
Looking deep into the jug with roiling emotion evident on his aged face, he raised the jug high; light glimmered from the movement of the armor that was like a gesture of triumph.
--Har ri na, Oldman, I greet you. He drank. His nostrils expanded with the scent. A sound of enjoyment escaped him as he swallowed. He turned to Mira and repeated the ceremony of obeisance to her, then taking his helm from her and offering the jug. Her hands moved over his glove in a touch that was near a caress.