Jushak inclines his head for a moment, then moves up Cyan's arm to rest on her shoulder, opposite Berd.  He sits up and starts to wash, ignoring Berd's scrutiny.

Other animals are moving on the wall, and some - Boktnojk, Denokad, Vadchok, Gratag-nuk and Hokod - seem to move towards Cyan, clustering close to her shadow on the wall.  For these, at least, the decision has apparently been made.

The eagle, Boktnojk, launches itself into the air, peeling away from the wall and gliding across to Cyan's wrist.

Left circles around to hover close to Juchak, then swings towards the eagle.  + THERE IS NO THREAT FROM THESE CREATURES?  WE SENSE POWER IN THEM. +

Laughing aloud, tears on her cheeks, Cyan slowly turns in a circle, Juchak on one shoulder, Berd the other, Boktnojk on her forearm held before her.  No tresses for this mighty bird.  "No threat, Left!  None at all - these are the spirits of this land, given form by [click]-ogok and myself, in the dream we shared!"

Finishing, she faces the Archon, her free hand rising to brush a lock of hair from her visage, clearing her burning topaz eyes.  "They are my allies and friends, just as you are.  And they have agreed to assist us.  They are cunning, clever, and resourceful; I have no doubt they will prove their worth in our venture"

Berd hrumphs once, a sparkling cloud of smoke erupting from his nostrils, and settles down upon Cyan's shoulder to study the creatures intently.  But his eyes glitter with hidden pleasure and pride.

"I need only a short time," she promises, hurrying to where the dried-up muds and old charcoals sit.  "Berd...if you could renew these, I will bring the colours back to my friends, restore them to their glorious selves."  Her fingers itch to return her allies to their pride-worthy state; not merely for them, nor for herself, but for [click]-ogok, gone these long years.  For his memory - to keep it bright.

Pausing, she raises her free hand.  "But where is dokt?"

OOC - Berd will use his ability to renew the colours in the old muds and charcoals used by [click]-ogok, allowing Cyan to use THEM to renew the colours of the wall-paintings.

Berd sets to work, performing Cyan's bidding.  Juchak pushes against her cheek, and it is as if a voice speaks in her ear, though there is no sound.  A tale, of sorts.  The story of an animal who can not be tamed or trapped due to his cleverness, nor held in one place...  But he will come when called by a friend who knows the secret.

Cyan need simply recreate the vanished image, faded during the long years, partly due to time, and partly as a result of its subject's cunning.  Then she just has to speak to him to bring him back.

There is a cough behind her, and James' voice says, "You're awake.  And you've made some new friends."

Well then.  Clever, clever dokt.  Of course he would find a way.  "Well, then," Cyan whispers.  "I shall need to call when I need him, eh Juchak?"  Bending, she picks up the pigments Berd has restored and dribbles some water into them.

But at James' voice, Cyan spins, one hand full of colour, her emerald eyes bright.  "Ah, James!  Yes, indeed - new friends, but old ones at the same time.  Here is clever Juchak, upon my shoulder.  Sharp-eyed Boktnojk sits upon my wrist.  Swift Denokad paces hither, adventursome Vadchok rolls at my feet, Gratag-nuk swims upon the seas of the stone, there, and this?  This stalwart fellow is Hokod."

Her face grows more serious for a moment.  "And this..."  Her hands indicate the scattered bones and dust.  "This was [click]-ogok.  He painted most of these walls, though some of the images are from my own fingers.  He taught me to speak to these spirits through the pigments, to ask for their aid and friendship.  Juchak was one of his friends, indeed."  She tries a smile; it's a weak one, for the sorrow is still new.  "He was my friend as well.  Long, long ago for him.  Last night's sleep for me.  We met in dreams."

She cocks her head to the side.  "I can show you, if you wish.  I can - and should - show all of you.  Left?  Would you wish to see and understand?  Should we call the others?"

"Is it dependent on being here?" James asks, concern creasing his brow, "We should move on, there are important matters we must attend to.  If necessary, we can come back here when Amber is saved, and the Archons have their new home."

Then he notes Cyan's eagerness, and his expression softens, "Though I'm sure we can spare a little time.  Malkia is isn't back from her hunt yet, and without her we can't go anywhere."

"Understood, James.  But if we have any time at all - and we do, for I require a few minutes to refresh my friends, here - I can show you."  Hurrying to the wall, Cyan studies the pictographs of her friends, then begins.  "Hold still, Gratag-nuk...all of you should return to the stone, that I might assist you to your true magnificence."

It never hurts to compliment, Cyan knows.

"Berd can share the memories," she continues, sweeping a swath of blackness over the loon's wings, to be properly speckled in moments.  "It would be easy for him."  She shoots a quick smile to the drake, staring suspiciously across the back of her head at Juchak.  "I no longer have issue with his presence in my mind."

Pain engenders growth, and they both have been through much.

"Do you desire this?" she again inquires of Left and James.  "Would the others benefit as well?"  It might show the Archons more of these mysterious, alien beings they accompany.

+ WE DESIRE WHAT MAKES US STRONGER, GENERAL. + Left replies, a perhaps typical Archon response.  Less typical though, is the next statement, + BUT WE DEFER TO JAMES AND YOURSELF ON THIS, AS IT SOMETHING FOR WHICH WE LACK THE EXPERIENCE TO MAKE ANY JUDGEMENT. +

James nods thoughtfully, then, "Do it.  It can't do me, or the Archons any harm to learn about other ways of doing things.  Banglen-Yp or Malkia either, for that matter."

His voice, though, carries a hint of... something... disbelief perhaps, and concern for Cyan.    Despite the evidence of his own eyes, James is not altogether sure about this new development.

Cyan pauses, studying James for a long moment.  She could be offended, she supposes.  But the story itself...even the bard must admit that it sounds ridiculous, despite the evidence.  After all, it could have been a real dream, couldn't it?  Despite totemic paintings, shifting and moving about her?

A small smile touches her lips, and she returns to adding colour to Vadchok.  "Berd, then.  If you would?"

Berd's eyes glitter as he delves into her memories, open to his touch.  An instant later, he opens a bridging, offering it to James, Left, and any others in the company as yet in easy 'reach'.  He'll grant a similar choice to the rest when they return.

The bridging flowers and the memories flow.  Not like a movie, but memories in truth - known as if experienced by the recipients.  Immediate, but comprehensible.

...And then she's not alone, as a figure shuffles out of the inner chamber.  The horned man.  He is short, perhaps five feet tall, and bearded, and he wears a loin cloth made of some kind of animal skin.  As he moves out into the firelight it becomes clear that he wears a hood, of sorts, made from head of a deer, with the antlers still attached.  His torso is daubed with paint - hand prints in all the colours used on the walls, and he carries two spears, simple sharpened sticks with fire-hardened points.

He stops as he spots Cyan, brandishing the spears at her, not threatening to use them, more like simply showing that he has them.  He tilts his head to one side, and speaks.  Or, at least, he makes a series of noises which have the cadence of speech.  Grunts and clicks forming a pattern that might be words.

Then silence for a moment, before he raps his knuckles against his breast bone and makes a set of sounds, then repeats both it and the gesture.  "[click]-ogok.  [click]-ogok."  A quick nod to Cyan, then he extends his empty hand towards her, palm upward.

From the corner of her eye, Cyan sees one of the painted deer stepping down from the cave wall...

...A rabbit, rendered in black and white and only an inch long, springs from the wall, and runs up his outstretched arm to escape the stick figure who pursues it.  It crouches on his shoulder and starts to wash...

..."Chy-an agho."  He beckons, and walks towards the fire.  "Chy-an nok." pointing to the ground, then a gesture with both hands spread, and making a downward pushing motion.  "Chy-an nok."  Again the downward pushing, then he stoops to pat the ground, before moving a little to one side and sitting.  "[click]-ogok aku nok."

He moves to draw a long curved line which forms a cap above the images already drawn.  Then a bird shape, possibly a duck, above the others, but below the curve.  [click]-ogok taps the curve with a finger.  "Bokt.  Chy-an agho bokt."  A smile and banging of an open palm against the ground.  "Chy-an agho bokt."  The bird flies upward, escaping the boulder...

...Then the palanquet comes to life, and the primitive falls silent, an expression of rapt attention on his face.  When he speaks again, he points first to Cyan, and then to himself, "Chy-an aku [click]-ogok aku."  Using the un-charred end of the branch, he first makes sure Cyan is watching, then taps at his chest before starting to scrape marks in the dust.  "[click]-ogok togh."...

...and more...

Amazement.

...And then he stops, peering at the sketch, and taps a finger against the side of his head, "Yai!  [click]-ogok nojk Chy-an... deku.  Adcho djok."  Aah!  [click]-ogok sees Cyan... here.  It's good....

Pain.

...[click]-ogok points, "Nojk Chy-an.  [click]-ogok vek." - See Cyan.  [click]-ogok sleeps.  Where he points though, there is only a faint impression in the dust, partly occupied by a few shreds of long-dried fur....

And yes, joy.

...A trade then... to teach each other what they each know.  And more?

"Chy-an aku Juchak adcho nongodo.  Chy-an aku Juchak naka-[click] aku aku denok.  Aku aku bokt.  Juchak gocht." - Cyan and Juchak are friends.  Cyan and Juchack walk same same ground.  Same same sky.  Juchak wants this.

"[click]-ogok veknojk aku aku Juchak nojk." - [click]-ogok will dream same same Juchak sees....

And awakenings.

Sighing, Cyan pauses.  Then she sweeps a swath of burnt ochre down Denokad's flank.

"And you see," she whispers.  "I hope."  And she does.  [click]-ogok has revitalized her hope: hope for them, hope for herself, hope for the Myriad Worlds.

Left says nothing as the tale comes to an end.  Instead she reduces in size, becoming no larger than a coin, a fly, a gnat... and the sound of her reduces until it becomes the faintest of whines, only audible when she moves close.

James lets out a sigh.  "That was... interesting.  Certainly like nothing I've ever seen before, in all my travels."

"Or I, in mine.  Thank yo for sharing this with us." says a deep rumbling voice from the cave entrance, where Malkia's large form is crouched, the scent of a fresh kill clinging to her fur.

A small white bird, with five multicoloured wings, enters the cave, and speaks in a high pitched voice, •• We want to see more •• Banglen-Yp says shrilly, •• There was nothing like this on the screen ••

"Perhaps another time." Malkia growls, "I would move on.  My lands are unprotected while I am here."

"Glad I am to have shown you, James.  I admit, the experience was unworldly.  Rarely have I had such an opportunity...nor luck with friendship."  Cyan sighs.  "And now he is gone."  To leave this place...

"Berd?"

The drake raises his head, as if sniffing the air.  Slowly, the little dragon nods.  It doesn't matter where, when, or how they find themselves; now he will always be able to locate this place.  And with that, Cyan can create a palanquet.

"Thank you, father," the bard whispers.

With a shake of the head, Cyan touches James' arm.  "One among many found on this quest."  Rousing herself, she faces the bird/Banglen-Yp.  "I can, of course, show more of my travels.  I do warn you, it is not always pleasant."  She resolutely avoids staring at the tiny Left, not wishing to make the danioti discomfited.  Instead, Cyan faces her spirit-friends upon the wall, their colours revitalized.  "Can you follow, where we go?  Or should I call upon you at need?"

Berd?

With a long-suffering sigh, the drake opens a bridging, allowing a message to pass but not intruding upon the recipient's mind.

Left?  Is aught amiss?

+ NOT AMISS, EXACTLY. + Left's voice comes, a whisper in the silent chamber.  + THE TALE WAS DISTURBING.  PUZZLING.  THERE WAS MUCH ABOUT THIS ENCOUNTER THAT WE DO NOT UNDERSTAND.  NEVER HAVE WE HEARD OF SUCH A THING.  THIS CREATURE HAS BEEN DEAD FOR CENTURIES, PERHAPS A HUNDRED CENTURIES, OR MORE... AND YET YOU WERE ABLE TO SPEAK TO IT, TO INTERACT, AND SPEND SOME TIME WITH IT, A PERIOD MUCH LONGER THAN THAT WHICH WE EXPERIENCED. +

+ ADD TO THIS THAT YOU WERE SLEEPING, AND THIS BEARS ALL THE HALLMARKS OF A DREAM. +

+ AND YET FRAGMENTS OF THIS DREAM NOW INTRUDE INTO THIS WORLD.  WE FIND THIS DIFFICULT TO COMPREHEND.  THIS DISTURBS ALL OF US.  ARCHONS ARE NOT ACCUSTOMED TO SUCH EVENTS. +

Cyan smiles, hunkering down into a crouch.  "A moment, please, Malika."  Her emerald eyes seek out and find the darting point of light that is Left.  "I see your point, Left.  Something worthy of consideration."

She cocks her head to the left, rusty hair slipping down around her shoulders.  "On the one hand, it might be a dream, might it not?  Just a dream, and this congruence we see about ourselves nothing more than a creation.  Perhaps by Berd, for I hold no power over reality.  Might that be it?"

Still crouching, the bard straightens, a small smile appearing on her lips.  "Or...there is more within the Myriad Worlds than you might have guessed.  Mysteries abound."  The smile grows.  "I have travelled for many years, and every world through which I pass holds new secrets.  Some I have unravelled.  Most, I have not.  And I'm certain, very certain, that I have only touched upon the mysteries of those worlds, if at all.  I grant, my life has been short.  But still..."

She holds up her arm, Juchak upon her shoulder.  "More mysteries, great and small."

Rising, Cyan turns in a slow circle.  "This is one reason I fight so hard to preserve the Myriad Worlds.  Not merely to preserve the status quo, no.  There is no status quo, not really.  Everything is different, everything is in motion, everything has secrets and layers, so many that in my life I could never, ever hope to touch upon even a tiny depth of those secrets.  I have been very honored to have come to some understanding of your people, so there is that."  A small laugh follows.  "Hard won, but still."

Left is silent for a long moment, until, + WE DO NOT UNDERSTAND THIS BUT WE WILL... THAT IS WE ALL WILL... FIGHT TO PRESERVE IT WITH YOU.  UNDERSTANDING IS NOT NECESSARY, ONLY BELIEF IN THE GOAL, WHICH COMES FROM CONFIDENCE IN THE COMMANDER. +

James, meanwhile, moves across to talk quietly to Malkia.  The result seems to concern him, and he turns back to Cyan, his face worried, "Malkia believes that something she calls 'the long road' lays close to here.  With your permission she will take that route.  It is the fastest way to get to Amber, but there are inherent dangers in its use."  The lioness gives a low, grumbling snarl, "We have wasted much time.  There are dangers, but nothing you and Jim can't handle."

"Admirable sentiments, danioti," the General replies with a small nod.  Nevertheless, Cyan knows Left.  Unlike Right, Left will worry at this problem day and night, turning it over and over to see a perspective where it might be understood.

"And those sentiments run in both directions, Left," Cyan continues.  "I have every faith in you."

Turning back to James and Malkia, she offers a slow nod.  This has hardly been a waste of time, but argument boots nothing.  "Very well.  We shall take the long road, whatever it might be."  Berd perks up, studying the giant lioness with interest.  "My friends shall join us - they will follow if they can, and if not?  I will provide them with the means to join us."

Painting can prove to be a gateway, through the power controlled by the palanqueti; distance across the worlds grows meaningless.

"Come friends," she offers, holding out her arms to Boktnojk, Vadchok, and Gratag-nuk.  Hokod and Denokad will follow if they can, or await her opening a doorway for them.

The images, Cyan's new friends, move onto her arms, nestling against the fabric of her sleeves.  They seem to flatten, and become part of the material.  Malkia stands smoothly and walks out of the cave.

The lioness seems irritated, but says nothing further.

When the others come out of the opening in the hillside, Malkia is seated, head tilted back as she stares at the clear sky.  She makes a quiet *huffing* noise to herself.

James mounts up, with Berd perched on his shoulder, and the great cat starts to lope down the hill.  Long strides carry her down the incline with increasing speed.  Left expands, scoops up Cyan, and follows.  And is, in turn, followed by a cloud of smaller Archons and brightly coloured birds...

By the time the group reach the base of the hill, the land has shifted, becoming a vast expanse of marsh beneath a cloudless sky.  The lioness continues to run, gaining speed, and ignoring both the flamingoes which soar skyward at her approach and the white horses which scatter from her path.

She leaps, and one huge paw strikes something large and scaled, which twists to snap at her.  Too late, she has already moved on...

One of the coloured birds flies directly in front of Left, and the Archon swallows it up without slowing, and suddenly a tiny version of Banglen-Yp stands in the chamber with Cyan, obviously agitated.

•• I am near • I feel me •• All of me •• I am nearby ••

The world seems to lurch and, though the sky remains unchanged, desert sand flows past below Left...

With only a window to view the passage of the world - a window and her constant link to Berd - Cyan struggles against restlessness.  She'd rather be out there, in the wind and sun.  It's not that she doesn't trust Left - she does, implicitly - rather it is a facet of her character, her personality.  Freedom of movement, of thought, of spirit, all are important to her.

While not a prison, at times this small 'chamber' within the Danioti feels like a cell.

Even so, she has new friends with whom she can speak.  James may not be available, but certainly she renews her acquaintance with Juchak and the others.

Then, out of nowhere, Banglen-Yp appears.

Cyan jerks slightly, startled; certainly she hasn't been expecting this.  Nor Banglen-Yp's words.  "All...all of you?  So what we are with...that is not all of you?"  She pauses a moment.  "Of course.  No matter how strong you are now, you are not a universe."  Her amethyst eyes burn brightly as she stares out the window.  "Either you have come...or someone has opened a door.  How close, Banglen-Yp?"

•• To me it is close • to you far away •• It is a matter of perspective •• You would think Amber far away • but to me it is almost within arm's reach ••

Banglen-Yp smiles and, to demonstrate her point, stretches her arms out to the sides.  The left one keeps stretching until it's three times the length of the right.

•• That is the place • I believe •• I am in Amber •• In a cave of some kind ••

•• I am talking to Luke • and curious enough to do no harm •• For the moment ••

"In Amber!"  A cave.  It sounds like where the others found Dworkin!  But then the news turns less-good.  "With Luke?"  Appalled horror fills Cyan's tone.  Luke...possibly the worst of them with regards to diplomacy, with the exception of Kaelyn.  "Lords of the West...Left, if you would, please convey this information to the others, and have them inform James and Malkia!"

Nervousness pricks her and she moves, pacing the small 'room'.  "Can you feel more, Banglen-Yp?"  A thought occurs.  "The rest of yourself...if you can feel it, it can feel you as well, yes?  Then it knows we are coming?"

That's a point in their favour.  Hopefully it'll counterbalance any horrendous gaffs Luke makes.

•• We can sense each other • but dimly • from one space to another •• But we can not talk directly • there is a barrier between this world and mine which prevents all but the most basic sensation passing between us •• I am here  • and I am there • but little more •• Luke can speak to me because he is close by the barrier •• In effect he can shout across it and be heard • but this body is so far away that its voice will not carry • except for basic feelings ••

•• Ah ••• he has just explained that we • he and this Banglen-Yp • are friends •• And now he has explained the meaning of the word friends ••

And Banglen-Yp laughs, waves an arm, and small birds spring from her flesh (if it can be called that) to circle around her, singing ••You should try to relax • He's doing very well • especially considering that neither of them has ever met anything quite like the other ••

Left's voice echoes in the chamber, + I HAVE INFORMED THEM, GENERAL. +

"I don't have very much trust in Luke," Cyan mutters, continuing to pace.  She pauses to stare with some surprise at Banglen-Yp's 'manifestations'.  "Not in his loyalty," the bard finally clarifies.  "His...ability to speak with people on a civil level."  She shoots a look at Berd.  "You continue to argue that he has a smooth tongue, but I've seen precious little of it thus far."

Berd sniffs, curling up.  It's quite obvious his own opinion is considerably different.

"I think I understand about you and...you."  Cyan's face screws up slightly, her topaz eyes narrowing.  "How do we refer to the different yous?  Either way, this is splendid news that we've managed to find a portal to your home so quickly, and establish contact.  And that Luke hasn't ruined it, somehow."

Berd snorts this time.

The bard rubs her chin in thought.  "As you grow closer, will you be able to open more detailed contact with yourself?"

•• I hope so • but this is a new thing for us • sensing each other across a barrier •• We have never done this before • so we cannot say for certain •• Luke can touch the barrier • though he probably should not • and it may be that I need to be that close before I can talk to me clearly •• I am sorry that I can not be more clear at this time •• But communication between the other me and Luke seems to be going well •• So far ••

•• The other me is explaining what it is •• It is complex • but it makes an effort to communicate ••

Banglen-Yp smiles, and spins on the spot, her arms outspread •• Wheeeeee •• It says that it will • at least • talk to the Archons about their living there ••

Cyan quirks a small smile.  "Berd informs me that despite accounts to the contrary, Luke is not so prideful he would assume there would be no danger.  He finds it...unlikely Luke will make an attempt at physical contact.  Especially having seen your own capabilities."

She relaxes slightly at seeing the other 'woman's' elation.  "Glad I am that you will rejoin with yourself...and doubly glad that you have an optimistic view of this meeting thus far."

Turning away, Cyan narrows her sapphire eyes in consideration.  "Now, if only we did not have the experience of good starts falling apart into poor endings...while I try to avoid pessimism, I find myself drowning in concern.  I would arrive more swiftly but Berd is uncertain.  Transporting us that close to the Grand Pattern might prove impossible...or even dangerous.  Better to take this circuitous route, and hope that things continue as well as you describe until we arrive."

For long hours, Malkia leads the way through world after world, and each one worse than the last.

Bad weather, treacherous terrain, hostile wildlife... the lioness dares not approach the homes which they pass at a safe distance.  Even so, on at least one occasion, human (more or less) hunters launch arrows at the strange group of travellers.

Left explains it to Cyan, passing the information on from James.  Malkia is, apparently, taking a short-cut through some of the less pleasant regions of the Myriad Worlds.  And because she seeks the shortest route, the trail leads from one of these hellish realms to another.  Their only real advantage is that they can travel at a speed that few of the locals can match...

The good news is that Banglen-Yp continues to report that things are going well between her other self and Luke.

And then...

•• They know we are coming •• We're close enough to feel ••

Worried, Cyan spends much of the journey fretting.  There is Luke and Dworkin left with Banglen-Yp's 'majority', two of the least consistent and personable people of which she knows.  There is James, threatened by the lands through which they pass.  And there is the war; likely it continues, even now.

Finally news from Banglen-Yp.  They have nearly arrived.

"And?"  Cyan leans forward, her eyes a pale emerald.  "What news?  Have you any grasp of what your self is feeling?"

Might this work out for everyone concerned?

•• They are interested in the Archons •• In me too •• All of me ••  The creature which resembles a young woman waves something which resembles a hand, to encompass the copies of Archons which fly outside, composed of materials that had never been used by any real Archon, at least to Cyan's knowledge.

And she laughs.

•• They want me to tell them more •• About me • and about the Archons •• About everything I have learned while I have been here •• Is there anything I should not tell them ••

•• Is there a message that you would like me to send ••