THE LUMINOUS DOME



by Stephen Linhart


(c)1996 - All Rights Reserved
Created With ButtonTalk(tm) 1.4.1
Email: Stephen@Stephen.Com
http://www.stephen.com/

* BEGIN *

About ButtonTalk


| About The Luminous Dome | Return to The ButtonTalk Page |

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


The Luminous Dome
by Stephen Linhart
Copyright 1996

Return to the Title Page

Created with ButtonTalk(tm)
Portions (c) 1996, Stephen Linhart


.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


The Luminous Dome was created with ButtonTalk(tm), a tool that lets writers create interactive text. It's easy to learn and easy to use.

You can find ButtonTalk on many online services and FTP sites that carry Macintosh software. It's free for personal use.

For more information about ButtonTalk contact me by email at:
Stephen@Stephen.com

Or visit my web page at:
http://www.stephen.com/

THE LUMINOUS DOME

Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


WORK IN PROGRESS

This is a work in progress, and you've reached an unfinished section.

So far, I've written only about 4,000 words of a short 30,000 word piece. I expect the equivalent of a novel in this format might be about twice as many words as a traditional novel.

At this point, still trying to explore and demonstrate some of my ideas about interactive fiction in general, and about ButtonTalk in particular.

Title Page

* BEGIN *

The Mortal Woman

Falling In The River

Maze


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


She unwinds a length of deep red cloth from around her body, still holding her lute in one hand. Underneath, she is wearing a thin blue wrap with elaborate gold designs.

She reaches out to you and places the red cloth in your hands.

Wear the red cloth as a kilt.

Wrap yourself in the red cloth after the fashion of this mortal woman.

Drape the cloth over your shoulders as a cloak.

Toss the cloth onto the ground.


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


The woman begins to unwrap the cloth from around her body.

Flee through the archway.

Wait patiently.

Consider her beauty.


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


A mortal woman stands before you in the archway. You did not hear her approach.

She is wrapped in red cloth, with many bracelets on her slim arms. In her hands is lute of strange triangular form. She stares at you in wonder or dismay.

Hide from the mortal.

Sing of night winds and the long migrations of butterflies.

Speak to the mortal woman.


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


"You are a rude creature, whatever else you may be. I will not give you my dulcimer. It is too precious a thing to trust in the keeping of such a lout."

Seize the dulcimer by force.

"I am sorry lady. I don't know what possessed me to such behavior."


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


She laughs like crystals of amber. Her smile is the sun. Perhaps she is casting a spell, but you do not care.

"May I see your lovely instrument?"

"Are you truly a mortal?"

"Have you a cloak or tunic?"


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


"Have I not told you that I am? Or do you not hold the spoken word in high esteem?"

"But allowances must be made when strangers meet. And so I forgive you."

"May I see your lovely instrument?"

"Have you a cloak or tunic?"


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


"Allowances must be made when strangers meet. I forgive you."

"May I see your lovely instrument?"

"Have you a cloak or tunic?"


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


She hands you the strange lute, gently and with reverence. It is lovely to the hand as well as the eye. You touch the strings gently and the barest hint of music touches your ears.

The mortal woman smiles lovingly at the wondrous instrument.

Return the lute, gently and with reverence.

Flee through the archway, taking the instrument with you.

Hold tight to the wonderful lute and race down the stairs to the dock.


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


"Truly, I do not know. It was like the change of seasons or the glow of dusk on stony mountain walls. Perhaps some strong enchantment winds itself about your name?"

"May I see your lute?"

"Have you a cloak or tunic?"


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


"I am a simple woman. A musician of the court."

"But who are you and why do you speak so strangely?"

"I have seen mortal women before, but I do not think you are mortal."

"I speak not strangely at all!"

"Enough questions. Show me the lute!"

* Give your own true name. *


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


She repeats your name thoughtfully. As she speaks you sense a shift in the axis of... of... what was that?

"What was that?"

Flee through the archway before she can conjure.

"You will not conjure with my name."

Reach out to touch her mouth.


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


She puts a hand on your shoulder. "Wait! I will not harm you."

You are startled by the speed of her movements. But the sparkle of her laughter puts you at ease.

"Lady... have you a cloak or tunic?"

"What was that?"

"You will not conjure with my name. I serve Umbriel the Queen."


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


She puts a hand on your shoulder. "Wait! I won't harm you."

You are startled by the speed of her movements. But the sparkle of her laughter puts you at ease.

"Lady, have you a cloak or tunic?"

Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


In two steps she has caught you. She puts a hand on your shoulder. "Wait! I won't harm you."

You are startled by the speed of her movements. But the sparkle of her laughter puts you at ease.

"I have seen mortal women before, but I do not think you are mortal."

"May I see your lovely instrument?"

"Have you a cloak or tunic?"


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


The poor woman looks so confused. She turns slowly, staring, while you follow around behind looking over her shoulder.

Break into laughter.

Take the instrument.

Tap her shoulder.

Flee through the archway.


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


She laughs, and her laughter is like crystals of amber. Her smile is the sun. Perhaps she is casting a spell, but you do not care.

"May I see your lovely strange lute?"

"Have you a cloak or tunic?"


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


You bow in greeting and face the mortal. It is not a meeting you would ever have guessed, but you retain your dignity.

"What a lovely instrument. May I hold it?"

"Who are you, and what sort of creature?"

"I am the west wind and the morning star."

"Have you a cloak or tunic?"


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


The mortal woman smiles sadly as you make off with her strange and wondrous lute.

As you run, gaps of glaring light open in the tiles under your feet. Everywhere you look is a terrible glaring whiteness.

You awaken in a mundane world without mystery or wonder.

+ T H E E N D +

Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


The mortal woman smiles sadly as you try to seize her instrument. Something is drawing you back away from her.

Gaps of glaring light open in the tiles under your feet. Everywhere you look is a terrible glaring whiteness.

You awaken in a mundane world without mystery or wonder.

+ T H E E N D +

Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


You distract the woman by tapping on her foot. When she bends down, you snatch the lute...

But the lute doesn't snatch. Some powerful force surrounds this mortal woman.

She turns to face you, "Are you teasing me? Who are you?"

"I am the west wind and the morning star."

"What a lovely instrument. May I see it?"

"And what sort of creature are you?"

"All things in due course. Have you a cloak or tunic?"


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


She turns to face you, "Are you teasing me? Who are you?"

"I am the west wind and the morning star."

"What a lovely instrument. May I hold it?"

"And what sort of creature are you?"

"All things in due course. Have you a cloak or tunic?"


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


"I will not conjure at all. I am not a sorceress or mage. I play upon my dulcimer and I sing. The only magic I know is the enchantment of music."

"May I see your lovely dulcimer?"

"Have you a cloak or tunic? For I am cold and damp."


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


The wall is built of stone, netted with ivy, and overhanging near the top. You climb easily over the wall and drop down the far side.

The sounds and smells of the night forest are comfortable and familiar. It is almost like waking from a dream.

Report your strange discovery to the Queen.

Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


A faint path winds deep into the forest, rising slowly. Soon you are climbing more steeply. Soft needles prickle your feet beneath the outstretched bows of great fir trees.

The path brings you to the base of granite slab. Its hard smooth surface is cool to the touch.

Climb up the stone slab.

Find a way around.

Return to the river.


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


You slide nimbly down the smooth stone slab and land with a bounce on a pile of fir needles and few old birch leaves. The air seems very still here after the open breezes up on the rock. You hear the croak of a distant toad.

Find a way around the stone slab.

Return to the river.


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


When you reach the top of the slab you discover that the path continues. Whoever made this path must climb directly up the slab.

Follow the path on up the sloop.

Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


The rock is steep and smooth. But it is a slope not a wall. You make your way up, placing each hand and each foot with care.

Near the top, you stop to rest. You can sit comfortably with some weight on your hands and feet so that you do not slide.

Think back over the events of this night.

Gaze out at the night view.

Climb to the top.


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


You scramble over lose rock and through brambles around the edge of the steep stone slab. A frightened snake skitters away. When you make your way around to the top of the slab you discover that the path continues. Whoever made this path must climb directly up the slab.

Follow the path on up the sloop.

Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


The path climbs into an oak wood. It seems odd that oaks would thrive here. But before you have time to consider this you are footsteps approaching.

Hide in the shadows under a great oak trunk.

Call out to the approaching stranger.

Continue along the path, quiet and alert.


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


A tantalizing view stretches out below you. The moon frosts a fertile land like a wild garden of flowers, trees, fields and fountains. Through it all runs the glittering and sinuous river. Its voice is soft but clear from your high vantage. Beyond the river, more spectacular than before, you look down now upon the luminous dome, glittering like a net of stars.

Here and there in the distance you can make out long walls climbing the hill tops. Whether they are many walls or one, you cannot tell. But they look to be the heavy work of human folk.

Think back over the events of this night.

Climb upward to the top of the rock face.

Slide down.


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


The night was fresh and young when you set out to explore the creek. Beasts and birds slept or hunted in the forest, much like any night. You followed the gully, rising steep-walled into the northern hills. Finally, you emerged on the plateau by a small spring.

You first glimpsed the wall from the pool of the spring. It continued as far as you travelled in either direction; so you climbed it and made your way through that garden land until you glimpsed that luminous dome.

You can see the dome glowing in the valley below you now.

Gaze out at the night view.

Climb upward to the top of the rock face.

Slide down.


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


You dream of falling in a vast blackness full of stars. Tiny stones whirl around a cloud of gas. Mortal armies fight ceaselessly in the vault of time. You land on a bed of feathers to hear the screeching of geese. Star dust and a million seeds fall around you. It is daylight in a small hut. There are mortals everywhere and you are naked, without tunic or possessions. You hide in the dark and cannot find your way out.

--* --** ++ **---** *+*+* **-------++ * **** - ++ * ** *-*-+ * -

Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


You struggle in complete darkness for a long time. Finally, you see a faint glow. As you move nearer it becomes torch light glistening on water. You are naked and alone on a tiled porch lit by many torches. Dark water laps against a stone dock below.

---++ * **** - ++ * ** *-*-+ * - --* --** ++ **---** *+*+* **----

Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


You are standing on a floor of many-colored tile. It chills your bare feet but is very beautiful. An exquisitely carved rail runs around three sides of the porch. A wall of marble towers above you; at it's base a broad archway. Torches burn in glittering stanchions on the rail. Their glow returns like starlight from the quiet water below. But the sky is absolutely black.

Turn away from this dark sea and seek a way out into the forest.

Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


"We should enter now. It is best that we not keep the lord waiting. I am to play at tonight's feast."

She leads the way through the arch, into a long dim tunnel. A chill wind flows through the tunnel making you shiver.

Follow.

Turn back.


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


First moon of autumn is waning. But still it weaves a path on the swift and noisy waters. Beyond the river, a strange luminous dome hangs in the night. Its glittering surface isn't the work of your own people. But surely it cannot be the crude work of mortals.

The fragrant woodland beckons to you with night secrets. But none could be more wondrous than the glowing dome across the river.

Return most swift to report your discovery to the Queen.

Drink of the dark noisy waters.

Attend the voices of the night.

Cross the shimmering path of moon beams.

Delve into the secret places of the forest.


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


Soft close lapping echoes the stealthy noises of the forest. And there are deep somber voices full of dread. Their roar and boom speak in words. Or is it just water plunging over some rocky fall, distant in the night?

The moonlight may show you to strange eyes even now. It is time to be gone from here.

Break free of this revery. There is much to be done.

Best to leave now. Let the Queen decide the fate of this place.


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


Moonlight on water lifts you free across the waves and the strong deep muscles of the river. It is a strange water, barely restrained by the pull of the earth. At any moment it might rise up into the starry sky.

You spring lightly onto the turf of the far bank.

Cross back for the sheer joy of riding moon beams.

Dance upon the fragrant lawn by the river.

Stop for no games. Pursue the secrets of the glittering dome.


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


The moon is low and the water wild. Riding on the flickering path of light is like taming wild dragons. You fall into the enchanted river with a splash and a shout!

The water is icy cold but very pleasant, almost relaxing. This is more fun than the flickering path. You could swim the swirling waters all night.

Climb out quick as a cat in a lily pond.

Swim soft, sweet, swirling, summer night.


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


You thrash wildly, arching your body and grasping at foam until direction loses all meaning. You cry out to the Queen but your mouth is full of water.

Keep struggling.

Surrender to the river.


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


It's not summer. It's autumn, and you are under a spell!

The roar of the river drowns out all other sounds. Rushing water drowns out all other sights. Water surrounds your body. It tastes clean and wild. The smell of it is like wind off the mountains.

What a beautiful night...

Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


Suddenly you are falling, and the river is falling with you. Foamy white spray is all around you, plunging down into darkness with a great noise.

Surely this is the work of some great mage or sorceress.

Struggle to do something. Anything!

Fall tumbling down in contented amazement.


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


As the water touches your mouth you know it is enchanted. A thousand years of moths circle your mind like a candle flame. Their many colored wings are a wonder and a terror. Wings like veined marble. Wings like writhing flames. They fall on you like snow burying some tiny creature beside a toadstool.

Leap up and dispel the enchantment!

Drink deeply. Sleep...


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


The waning moon glitters on the foam streaked surface of the river. The luminous dome glitters more brightly beyond.

The scents of countless trees and flowers mingle in the air. Some are familiar. Others you cannot place. Still others are day smells, oddly displaced in the night.

Return to report your discovery to the Queen.

Drink of the dark noisy waters.

Attend the voices of the night.

Cross the shimmering path of moon beams.

Delve into the secret places of the forest.


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


Through pathed gardens and shadowy glens, you make your way back to the high wall of stone which you crossed in the clean hour after dusk.

Over many streams, by wooden bridge and leaping stone to stone, you retrace your steps. But soon, nothing is familiar. It is as if the very land has changed.

Press on. The wall must be near.

Work your way back to the river and the dome.

Pause to think.


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


An arrow strikes your breast. The world is pain. Your vision blurs and you know no more.

+ T H E E N D +

Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


Tall watchtowers guard the stone wall. You make your way merrily toward the nearest tower.

As a swift feathered shaft flies from the tower, a horn blows loud in the night. The tower is occupied and the guards vigilant.

Go to meet the guards.

Hide behind a tree.

Flee into the fragrant woods.


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


You seek a way back to the river, but again you become confused. There is a heavy scent of flowers in the air... many flowers. Perhaps you are being drugged?

You are surprised to see a high wall covered in ivy. You approach cautiously. This is the very spot where you dropped down from the wall when you arrived at this enchanted garden!

Were the flowers here before?

Oh well. It doesn't matter. Settle down for a nap.

Climb over the wall, swift and fleet.

Venture to see if there is anyone in the towers that guard the wall.


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


Your song is wide as mountains and deep as the pools of night where stars dwell. As you sing, the mortal woman smiles. She prepares her instrument.

Sing on.

Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


Her music is cold fog at dawn and birds greeting the sun's first rays. She enfolds your voice with music and then she too begins to sing.

Her song weaves itself with your own as if long rehearsed. A silver fountain rises under your night winds. Your butterflies rest on her bows of green.

"Oh rapture."

Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


You fall, tumbling down with the foam into a dark deep lake. Your tunic of birch leaves is torn to bits.

You are deep under water. There is no light and no way seems up.


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


You swim through rough and choppy water. Dark foam washes over you. There is a terrible pounding.

A powerful current drags you down into dark silent depths.

* THE END *

Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


The air is chill and dark. Cold water sways ceaselessly around you. A dull roar echoes in unguessed distances. You can see nothing at all.

Swim.

Swim.

Swim.

Swim.


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


The air is chill and dark. Cold water sways ceaselessly around you. A dull roar echoes in unguessed distances. You can see nothing at all.

Swim.

Swim.

Swim.

Swim.


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


The air is chill and dark. Cold water sways ceaselessly around you. A dull roar echoes in unguessed distances. You can see nothing at all.

You are very tired.

Swim.

Swim.

Swim.

Swim.


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


The air is chill and dark. Cold water sways ceaselessly around you. A dull roar echoes in unguessed distances. You can see nothing at all.

Swim.

Swim.

Swim.

Swim.


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


You burst up through the water into wonderful air, saved by luck, fate or friendly spirits.

The water is deep and gently moving. The roar and tumble of the falling river is near but not upon you. All is dark... except, perhaps, the faintest glow, like a distant firefly.

Swim toward the glow.

Make for the roar of falling water.

Move away from both the noise and the light.


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


You swim on into the dark. The distant light approaches slowly.

It has been a night of chaos and calamity.

Swim on.

Pause to sing of rest and nourishment.


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


There is a roaring in your ears. Something is tossing your body like a rag. You see humans slaughtering each other on a field of battle. Someone is laughing.

No!

Petty mortals.


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


You sing of wild berries on the heath and clouds on the moon, daffodils, dew drops and sleeping 'til noon.

The song refreshes your spirit.

Swim on toward the approaching light.

Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


After a long dark swim, you come to a quiet dock and a stone porch. Lanterns sparkle in your damp eyes.

You climb onto the dock, exhausted, dripping wet and naked. You have lost your tunic and all your possessions.

Climb the tall, curving stair to the porch.

Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


You are delirious with exhaustion. Perhaps you have been swimming in circles. It no longer seems to matter.


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


More exhausted than ever before, you swim on through dark waters. A chill has begun to grip your bones. You can still glimpse a pale light in the distance.

Pause to sing of rest and nourishment.

Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


The moon-streaked lawn rises from a bend in the river to the long shadows of a beech forest. A wide path leads toward the glittering dome.

Between the river and the trees, the earth and the stars, you dance upon the green. Mingled scents of many trees and flowers wander on the night breeze.

Sing to the night birds.

Lay down to rest on the cool grass.

Enter the beech forest.

Follow the broad path to the dome.


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


You smell almond and anise, plum, pomegranate and primrose. The breeze speaks of gardens as you rest quietly on the grass. A tiny white flower brushes your cheek. The rush of water seems distant and muted. The birds are hushed. You are content.

Sleep...

Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.


You sing and nightingales sing with you. Never have you heard them sing so beautifully. You are transported by the give and take of voices. While you sing you hear no other birds. But the voices of the river and countless tiny insects seem to join your song.

You realize you have reached the place where madness and genius meet. Everything is as it was moments before, but it is transformed.

Enter the beech forest.

Follow the broad path to the dome.


Title Page

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.