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Tu-Swift Tells his Tale

27 Monday Apr 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, politics, psychology, Uncategorized, Veritas

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communication, fantasy, fiction, laguage, leadership, learning, legends, myths, short story, stories, symbols, tales, teamwork, Veritas, writing

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After the feast, Many Paths rose to speak, “On behalf of the whole tribe, and on behalf of this woman who now speaks as well, I thank you, Shadow Walker, for finding Tu-Swift and returning him to me … to us. There is much that we would hear from you as to how this came about. We also would like to hear from Tu-Swift. As the elder, Shadow Walker, would you care to begin your tale?”

Shadow Walker rose, “Thank you, Many Paths. I will tell my tale in due course. Having already heard from Tu-Swift and the others, I believe that my own tale, though a useful one for us to consider, is not the first one that the tribe must hear. I believe we should first hear from Tu-Swift and then from Cat Eyes. I can tell my small tale last.” 

Shadow Walker had discussed this with Tu-Swift who had reluctantly agreed. Tu-Swift, arose and Many Paths noted that as he did so, he braced himself strongly against the rough-hewn wooden table. The cheeks of Tu-Swift glowed with the red of the post-fire sunsets as he began his tale. Soon, however, he found himself “inside” the tale he was telling and his self-consciousness disappeared. A natural born storyteller, Tu-Swift illustrated his tale with sound effects, gestures, and facial expressions. Apart from babes in arms, the entire tribe, children and elders included, followed with rapt attention and respectful silence. 

Tu-Swift recounted his initial abduction, his confusion, his despair, his meeting with Day-Nah, their work with the horses, how Jaccim had been the gentlest of the three overseers, both with the boys and with the horses. He described how he had sabotaged some of the weapons of the ROI and made it easy for the horses to escape. As he told his part, he glanced at Jaccim, whose eyes widened and whose jaw dropped open. He had no idea that Tu-Swift had played any part at all in the destruction of the ROI village. 

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Tu-Swift went on to describe his joy at being reunited with other Veritas and their being attacked yet again with flaming arrows. He described his terrifying run to avoid the flames and the sudden stab of pain that wrecked his knee. He described his long, painful hobble back to the village in hopes of finding food in the burned forest, his discovery of the sword which he held aloft dramatically. Tu-Swift’s face exploded into a large grin as he told of his second re-uniting with Shadow Walker and the Wolf Pups. The Veritas gasped as one when he told of the harrowing flume ride. 

The Veritas learned at a young age to be respectful while someone told a tale. So, tonight, they said little or nothing — until Tu-Swift came to his last dream and as he told of his “decoding” of “Sooz” in the dream, he beamed at her. Now it was her turn to carminize and the others smiled at her. But as Tu-Swift began to explain his understanding of the game and its symbols, the tribe began to murmur restively. Tu-Swift had meant this revelation to be the exciting climax to his tale, but as he looked out among the Veritas, he saw understanding dawn quickly only on the faces of Many Paths, She Who Saved Many Lives, and Eagle Eyes. The eyes of those three grew wide with surprise and delight. Most of the Veritas, however frowned, shook their heads, and muttered below their breath to someone nearby. 

The frowns most of them wore were reinforced as they looked to one another. Now, the contagion of doubt even spread back to Tu-Swift himself who also frowned. He looked at Many Paths for reassurance. Tu-Swift’s nicely told tale ended anti-climatically as he mumbled something about that being the end of his tale and sat back down, again using the edge of the table as support. 

Many Paths quickly stood and spoke. Her mind raced with the astounding possibilities opened up by Tu-Swift’s revelation, and the possible uses of such symbols, but she reigned her mind back to the here and the now. What this moment needed was to re-establish the unity in the tribe that came from shared experience. As she looked about her she saw that only a few among her people understood what Tu-Swift had said. 

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Original drawing by Pierce Morgan

Many Paths used her strongest voice to speak to the people. “Tu-Swift, thank you for sharing your tale. I am eager to learn what Cat Eyes and Shadow Walker have to say, as I am sure the rest of the tribe is as well, but before we get to that, please indulge a few questions, for I am not sure I fully understand what you meant about these symbols. We have symbols for people and for other things. But you are saying that this is a different kind of language. Many of the tribes understand sign language which is common among us. But that sign language is limited. We understand each other when we are face to face.

“The language you speak of,” she continued, “is different. You claim there is a symbol for each sound — as in your example of your good friend Sooz. The “s” sound of “sooz” is shown by the stick figure representation of our sign language for “snake.” Then, the “ooo” sound is shown by the stick figure representing our sign language for “owl” who often makes the “ooo” sound. Last, the “zzz” sound of “Sooz” is shown by the stick figure of someone making our sign language for “buzzing bee.” So, such a language can cause one to think of a long sequence of words just as they would be spoken aloud. Is that right? Can this be so, Tu-Swift?” 

Tu-Swift swallowed hard. He did not enjoy being put on the spot again. What had seemed so obvious to him, was apparently not so easy for others to grasp. He bit his lip. Through the fog of his embarrassment, he realized that Many Paths understood perfectly. She was helping the many of the Veritas understand that which was already understood by the few. Tu-Swift stood again, and nodded. “Exactly so, sister. You will hear next the tale of Cat Eyes who believes that there are complete stories made with such symbols and that those who understand such language can “hear” a story in the ears of their imagination. Maybe it will become clearer if you hear her story now.” Tu-Swift sat down, but to the surprise of Many Paths, Hudah Salah arose and spoke. 

Many Paths recognized her to speak. Many Paths thought to herself how much she had changed since she first came to live with the Veritas. Then, she would never have risen to speak on her own but would silently support with her expressions, manner, and short utterances that which her husband Lion Slayer had already said. Now, however, she showed no hesitation to speak. 

“Lion Slayer likely knows more of this than I do, but among our people there is a legend of such a language. Near the southern edge of the desert where we dwell, there is a place we call, “The Desert of the Desert” because nothing grows there. Only a few have ventured there for everyone who does so returns sick. But more than one such have told of odd symbols written there on very large rocks. Our legends say that such stones speak to those who can listen to them properly. None of those who visited there heard the stones speak. But now, I have to wonder whether those symbols are cousins to the ones that the ROI use.” Hudah Salah sat and Lion Slayer stood quickly adding, “It is just as Hudah Salah says. Such symbols may be dangerous. For, as Hudah Salah says, everyone who goes to hear these stones speak returns ill but none of those who have returned heard the rocks say anything beyond the windy whispers of the desert night breezes.” 

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A buzz of murmurs began among the Veritas, and Many Paths recognized Cat Eyes. “Let me begin my tale. First, I thank Shadow Walker and Tu-Swift for rescuing me and I thank all of you for welcoming me back to my tribe. For I too am of the Veritas.” As Cat Eyes looked among the Veritas, she could see more uncertainty and confusion. “Let me begin my tale with a reassurance however. I lived among both the Z-Lotz and the ROI and saw many people, including children, using and playing with the symbols that Tu-Swift spoke of. None of these became ill. Certainly, no-one among either of those tribes believes that such symbols cause illness. I suspect it may be the extreme dryness or heat of a place where nothing grows that causes the illness. Or, perhaps those symbols are different. But these symbols I have carried myself for years and not gotten ill. I now believe that these symbols allow the ROI and the Z-Lotz to plan and plot and tell tales across great distances and across many summers though I did not realize it at the time I lived among them. I have thought about it more and more after Tu-Swift’s revelation.” To illustrate her point, she held aloft one of the matts of symbols and let it unfold as she held it in her hand. She lightly brushed her hand over the symbols. 

“This is not painful,” Cat Eyes continued, “and does not cause illness or I would be long dead for I have kept these hidden on my person or very near for years. Some of the richest among the Z-Lotz have a room where their children play and many of these kinds of matts are spread on the floor. The walls of these rooms are stacked with many sheaves of such symbols. They cause no harm that I could discern, nor the Z-Lotz who had their children play there.” 

Eagle Eyes held something aloft, “Sheaves like these?” she questioned. 

Many Paths worried that the clear telling of the tale of Cat Eyes might become derailed and confused. She took the object from the hand of Eagle Eyes and handed it to Cat Eyes. 

Cat Eyes nodded and exchanged a look with Many Paths. “Indeed! This is exactly the sort of thing I am speaking of. Where did you find it?” After a moment she added, “This one seems damaged. There are missing leaves.”  

Now it was Eagle Eyes’ turn to blush. “I found it when we searched for Tu-Swift and the others in the village of the Z-Lotz. I thought it was nothing more than a clever and less bulky way to carry fire-starting tinder. We used a few leaves to start a fire on our way back here. I had no idea….”

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Many Paths jumped into the conversation. “We must study such symbols and learn from them. It will no doubt take time. But meanwhile, Cat Eyes, please tell us your tale, unbroken. I suspect that although it is late, many would like to hear that tale tonight. Others may be understandably tired and eager to put their children to bed. What say you people? Shall we hear this tale tonight or on the morrow?”

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After much murmuring among the Veritas, the vote was taken by a show of hands. Nearly everyone longed to hear the tale of Cat Eyes now though the last bits of color had dimmed long ago. Many Paths nodded and gestured to Cat Eyes who began her own tale of how she had been stolen at an early age, even younger than Tu-Swift. 

“Sixteen summers ago, I was born among the Veritas, in a village over the Twin Mountains,” she began.

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Author Page on Amazon

Start of the First Book of The Myths of the Veritas

Start of the Second Book of the Myths of the Veritas

Table of Contents for the Second Book of the Veritas

Table of Contents for Essays on America 

Index for a Pattern Language for Teamwork and Collaboration  

The Walkabout Diaries

Travels with Sadie

Plans for US; Some GRUesome

Labelism

The Game

Wednesday

Where Does Your Loyalty Lie?

Roar, Ocean, Roar! 

The Dance of Billions

 

Skipping Stones

23 Thursday Apr 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, politics, psychology, Uncategorized, Veritas

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empathy, fantasy, fiction, leadership, legend, life, myth, politics, short story, story, strategy, tactics, tale, teamwork, truth, Veritas, writing

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The next morning, Many Paths awoke early. As she peeked outside, she could see that a heavy fog hung about the river. The sun itself appeared as nothing more than a gray disk. Many Paths sighed and briefly shivered as she arose and trod slowly to the river. She liked to stand and watch the flow of the water. She found it calming. 

She thought of Shadow Walker and yet again; she drew out from a small pouch, the Sixth Ring of Empathy, the last that she and Shadow Walker shared. She tried to recall when she and then the rest of the Veritas had begun calling him “Shadow Walker” rather than “Shade Walker.” It was odd, she mused. Most names became shorter over time. “Shadow” she supposed, was more precise. Specific things had shadows. But you could be in shade from many trees at the same time. You would not know which tree had caused which shadow. She still felt strongly that he was alive but she had no proof. 

Still clutching the Sixth Ring of Empathy, she began to reflect on last evening’s Dialogue and consider how things might go tonight. Perhaps she thought, we should finish the mock Killing Sticks and give people a few days to live with them before we explore them further. Even though a mock Killing Stick would not be like having a real one, she still thought it would offer more insight. They knew so little! Yet, time might not be on their side. Suppose Eagle Eyes & Lion Slayer had been tracked? Many warriors with such killing sticks could arrive to destroy or enslave the Veritas at any time. 

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If they all made the noise described by Eagle Eyes and confirmed by Lion Slayer, they should hear the use of such Killing Sticks in time to prepare for an attack. She needed to prepare the people. They could not be caught unawares as they had when they were attacked before and Tu-Swift had been taken. It still puzzled her that they had stolen Tu-Swift. She heard the caw of crows and turned in that direction. A large man was walking through the mist toward her. She hoped it could be Shadow Walker. As he loomed closer, she saw instead that it was Trunk of Tree. Though nothing more than a shadow in the fog, she could tell from the way he moved and his general outline that it was not her love, but this friend, this excellent warrior, this man who had lately grown problematic. Why was he seeking her out so early in the morning? 

“Good morning, Many Paths. It is I, Trunk of Tree. I woke early to check on our guard posts.” 

“Good morning to you, Trunk of Tree. Thank you. How are the guards?” 

“They are well. No sign of trouble. Nor did I catch any sleeping at their posts. I wish I could give each of the guards one of those Killing Sticks! But I did not come to speak of Killing Sticks — though they are much on my mind.”

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“They are much on my mind as well. We must all think on such a thing and dialogue again. So, what did you want to speak about?” 

Now, Trunk of Tree strode up next to Many Paths. He looked at her intently. “If I may speak frankly, I think we must accept the sad news that Tu-Swift and Shadow Walker are gone. I mean, they are not coming back. It is sad for all of us. But we must accept reality and move forward to protect the people from these Z-Lotz and ROI. Most especially because of what we have learned about the Killing Sticks.”

Many Paths sighed. “Do you see the sun?” 

Trunk of Tree frowned. “Do I see the sun? Well, I — yes, I can see it, though it lay yet well hidden by the fog. What…?”

“Do you think it will be hidden in this way when it is high overhead?” 

“No. I think the day will be clear, and it will be hot and yellow. In fact, we won’t even have to wait. Another little while and it will be shining brightly. It’s not a cloudy day. Just this morning fog obscures it. But what has this to do with Killing Sticks?”

“It has much to do with Shadow Walker. He too is hidden from our sight by the fog of time and distance. Yet, I believe him to be very much alive. We are connected. Actually, we are all connected, but I especially feel a connection to him and I tell you that at this moment, he is alive. Whether he and Tu-Swift can return safely, I cannot foresee just as we cannot yet see the shining sun.”

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Trunk of Tree shook his head back and forth slightly. It seemed to him impossible to have a frank and straightforward conversation with this woman. He grimaced and chewed his lips, searching for another path. In this, he lacked the easy skill of Many Paths. Yet, he continued. “I suppose it is possible he is alive somewhere, captured, enslaved, injured. Perhaps he has joined with the Z-Lotz. He is a proud and ambitious man and … “

At this, Many Paths broke into happy laughter. “No, Trunk of Tree, you — trust me, he is many things. He has skills. You have skills. But he is not as you say, a proud and ambitious man. That describes you, not him. What do you wish to say?”

“The tribe needs unified leadership. I propose that you and I join forces to provide that unified leadership. We cannot face an enemy that possesses Killing Sticks when we are divided. I propose that you and I marry. I know you still like Shadow Walker as I still like Eagle Eyes, but we must think of the tribe, not just ourselves. Join with me. With my strength leading and your wisdom as support, we will mount an attack on the Z-Lotz and take all their Killing Sticks. It is this which I see as the only sure way for the Veritas to survive. And thrive.” Trunk of Tree surprised himself at how well he had put forth his argument. Surely, she would see the sense of his position, now he thought. 

Many Paths stared at Trunk of Tree. “Who among the Veritas do you know to be my closest friends, apart from Tu-Swift and Shadow Walker?” 

“Who do I suppose… ? What? I have no idea. How would I know? I never thought about it. What does that — ?”

Many Paths intensified her gaze. “Think about it now. Take a moment. I’ll wait.” 

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“I suppose She Who Saves Many Lives. You talk much with her and she gave you all the Rings of Empathy. Did I guess right, Many Paths?”

“That is one of two. Yes. And, do you think it accurate to say she gave me the Rings of Empathy? Is that what you think? Were you and I and all the others not given the same tests? Am I not the only one who passed all the tests? What say you, Trunk of Tree?” Many Paths tightened her lips and furrowed her brow. She began to second-guess herself. Perhaps she had taken bait for an irrelevant conversation.

“I — I don’t know. I suppose. But She Who Saves Many Lives is clever. She may have wanted you to be her successor all along. But the point is that the people now need a strong leader. It is more important than ever. We can together offer that strong leadership. You are wise, but on your own, you have a tendency — you don’t always act even when the path is clear.” 

Many Paths felt like screaming at him that leadership was already united save for his attempts to undermine it. She wanted to scream that he had been completely inept in trying to gain support for his style of leadership. Most of all, she wanted to scream at him that she would never marry him and that she loved Shadow Walker. 

Instead, Many Paths pleasantly said, “Let’s skip some stones.”

“Skip stones? Why? We are having a serious discussion about the future of the tribe! Anyway, I can skip stones much farther than you. It’s obvious. What’s the point?” Trunk of Tree ground his teeth. But he bent down, took up a large oval stone that happened to lay at his feet and flung it into the river. It felt good to release some of his anger. He saw the stone skip five times before plunging at last into the rapids in the middle of the river. He grinned at Many Paths. “Can we now return to my proposal?”

Many Paths searched the ground. She picked up a flat stone. Then another. And another. And another. She looked carefully at the stones; hefted them one by one. She put them down beside her and whirled her arm about her. She stretched her arms carefully. She picked up one of the stones and walked to a place where the ground felt firm beneath her feet. 

At last, Trunk of Tree could stand it no longer, “What are you doing?” 

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Many Paths briefly glanced at Trunk of Tree and smiled. Then she took her stone and turned it about in her palm. She looked out at the river, noticing the parts of the river that flowed calmly and those that jumped and churned with turbulence. Then, she turned the trunk of her body nearly parallel with the earth and whipped her arm with surprising speed. The rock skipped across the river hitting the surface eleven times before landing on the far bank. She turned back to Trunk of Tree and smiled. “Thanks for indulging me, Trunk of Tree. Thanks for your patience. I am quite aware that these Killing Sticks pose a threat to our tribe, perhaps even to our very existence. That is why I really need you to do me a favor. You are a good warrior and a good general. I need you to prepare a contingency plan of what to do should we hear Killing Sticks. I do not want to be caught unaware as we were at our Feast that turned to Fire. Could you take on that important responsibility? For me, for the Tribe, and for my best friend, Eagle Eyes?”

Trunk of Tree stared at her, momentarily tongue-tied. “How did you throw your rock farther?” 

“What? Oh. That. I was just illustrating how important careful preparation is. To remind us both how important your plans will be. Just as in the Battle of the Three Forks. This time, we must be even more prepared. This may be the most important task for the survival of the Veritas, at least until we learn more. Perhaps you can enlist the aid of the woman who loves you, my best friend, Eagle Eyes. She was invaluable in our preparations for the Battle of the Three Forks. Working together may help overcome some of the understandable awkwardness that has temporarily grown between you. I need to confer with her for the morning on the making of the mock Killing Sticks. After that, she’s all yours for the next few days. To help with the plans.”

Trunk of Tree had much more to say, but Many Paths turned away and walked back toward the Center Place of the Veritas. She disappeared into the fog before he could utter a word. He stood for a moment staring at the rushing water. He shook his head and began thinking about how one might prepare against something so dreadful as a numerous tribe with Killing Sticks. 

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Soon, the sun dissipated the fog and Many Paths found Eagle Eyes at work making drawings of the Killing Sticks. She noted that there was a special place near the center where Nut-Pi had pressed to waken the Killing Stick. It was a bulge near the middle of the stick. Stone Chipper had gathered several appropriate sticks as well as three more among the tribe whose skills included carving. She walked over to compliment the group on their progress when she heard drums of the Veritas from afar. They announced the coming of people. With horses! Her heart quickened! The People Who Stand on Horses had returned! No. No. They were not, the drums said, standing on the horses, but beside them. Strangers, but without weapons. Who were these people? The drums said, Tu-Swift! The drums said, Shadow Walker! Eagle Eyes jumped up and embraced Many Paths. The eyes of Many Paths filled with tears and she ran toward the drums. Eagle Eyes and the party of carvers followed close behind her. 

She ran along the path that ran into the deep woods and out into a clearing beyond. She could see a group of people and horses atop a small knoll descending toward her. She sprinted even faster as she approached. The group with the horses kept moving slowly toward her. At last, she could make out the form of Shadow Walker jogging toward her. He seemed to be limping slightly. That would pass. Behind she could make out Tu-Swift who also appeared to be limping. She flung herself wantonly into the arms of Shadow Walker who reacher her first. The held each other fiercely as she kissed his face over and over, relishing the smell of him and the salty taste of his sweat. This moment at last had come and she wanted to relish it forever. Shadow Walker began to speak but she silenced him with kisses until Tu-Swift drew near and then she released one arm to draw him to her as well. The three of them held each other tight. Whatever else the coming days might bring, Many Paths felt that they could find — must find a way to survive those days, Killing Sticks or no Killing Sticks, spreading death or no spreading death. They would survive and the Veritas would survive, must survive. She had no idea yet of the discovery this little party had brought to the Center Place of the Veritas. In fact, even the members of that little party did not yet understand the full importance of the discovery they had brought with them. It would prove even more important than Killing Sticks. 

Original Masks by Sarah Morgan

Original Masks by Sarah Morgan

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Start of Book One of The Myths of the Veritas

Start of Book Two of The Myths of the Veritas

Introduction to a Pattern Language for Teamwork & Collaboration

Index to a Pattern Language for Teamwork & Collaboration

Author Page on Amazon

Sports Book on Amazon: The Winning Weekend Warrior which focuses on the Mental Game

Sci-Fi Stories about the Future of AI & Robotics: Turing’s Nightmares

Tips for Putting more Exercise into Daily Activities: Fit in Bits

Recollections and Reflections: Tales from an American Childhood

Eagle Eyes Returns

18 Saturday Apr 2026

Posted by petersironwood in apocalypse, politics, psychology, Veritas

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dreams, empathy, ethics, fantasy, fiction, guns, leadership, legend, myth, parable, prophesy, story, truth, Veritas, weapons, writing

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The news of the return of Eagle Eyes and Lion Slayer spread through the tribe quickly. When Hudah Salah first heard the news, she feared to believe it. She worried that she might have misunderstood the language of the Veritas. As she scanned the faces around her and saw them all looking at her expectantly, she realized that she had heard correctly. Tears of joy streamed down her cheeks and once she determined which way her husband would be coming from, she began to walk toward him in a quick but dignified fashion. As she spied the familiar figure of the man she had been promised to as hardly more than a child, she forgot her studied decorum and trotted and then sprinted toward him calling his name. A grin consumed him and he ran toward her as well falling into a long, tight embrace. 

The trio of berry pickers had just arrived in the Center Place of the Veritas when Eagle Eyes swung into the view as well. Trunk of Tree approached her awkwardly. She noticed something amiss in his bearing or she would have run into his arms as well. But perhaps, she thought, he has found another in my absence. For his part, Trunk of Tree saw her hesitation and considered that she was entering camp after a long absence in the company of another man, one for whom she obviously felt some affection. He frowned, not sure what to do in such a public forum. But Lion Slayer seemed to have eyes only for his own wife.  

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Many Paths embraced them both and suggested that rather than answering a thousand questions, they should all prepare a feast while their newly returned friends would have a chance to reconnect with their loved ones. After the feast, Many Paths suggested, the tribe should hear their tale from beginning to end, without interruption. After that, everyone could ask whatever questions they wished. Nods and assents as to the wisdom of this plan spread and the preparations were made. Many Paths saw that Lion Slayer took his wife by her hands and they made their way to their small tent. She also noted that Trunk of Tree spoke awkwardly with Eagle Eyes. After a few moments, Eagle Eyes walked over to Many Paths and the two of them embraced warmly. Eagles Eyes whispered to Many Paths during the embrace, “Many Paths, you can’t imagine how happy I am to see this place again. I look forward to sharing our adventures, but there is something I feel I must share with you immediately.” 

Many Paths glanced at Trunk of Tree who stood awkwardly nearby. She whispered back to Eagle Eyes. “Certainly, though Trunk of Tree needs your assurance soon.” 

Eagle Eyes stepped back a half pace. “I’m not sure he wants my assurances — or me. He seems much more distant than I pictured. Do you have any idea why?” 

“Yes, I think he was — it’s a long story, truly, but what is your urgent news? You and I — we can catch up later and I will say what I know about Trunk of Tree and what I surmise. Anyway, you should prepare yourself for the feast. First, what is your news?”  

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“I will say more later, to the whole tribe, if you deem it wise. Everyone got separated in a fire and Lion Slayer and I looked for our companions but found no-one. A large caravan left the village of the ROI, which burned down, by the way, to a very large place such as I have never seen. It had many walls and there we saw … we saw someone — perhaps, the leader of this City torture and kill someone.” 

“I am sorry you had to see that, Eagle Eyes.” 

“No, you don’t understand. It was the way he did it. He pointed a kind of magic spear at the man but did not touch him at all! Yet, it caused great damage and pain nonetheless. Three times he pointed this — we came to call it a ‘killing stick’ — and each time he pointed it, it made the sound of thunder and the flash of lightning. And, three times, blood flowed from another wound. We argued about whether we should try to steal this but if we were captured….”

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“No, you did the right thing. This is disturbing. But go now and rest for the feast. Talk with Trunk of Tree. You each thought you might be lost from the other. Some awkwardness is understandable. While you were gone — please don’t — never mind. Talk with him first, and we can talk later. I want to consult with She Who Saves Many Lives about your important news. You and I must talk more later.” 

They held each other’s hands and looked deeply into each others eyes. They nodded and parted, each to consult now with another. Eagle Eyes walked back to Trunk of Tree with her hands out. Many Paths, turned to seek She Who Saves Many Lives, but the minute she turned, there was the elder walking toward her. Her gait was graceful and purposeful, though it lacked the springiness of youth. 

Many Paths quickly related the observations of Eagle Eyes about the killing sticks. 

She Who Saves Many Lives staggered upon hearing the news and grabbed hold of a nearby wood stack for support. She bowed her head and shook it slowly side to side and muttered, “I should have told everyone. Or, at least told you.”

“Whatever do you mean? Told me what?” 

She Who Saves Many Lives sighed. “I had a dream, a prophesy dream, about such things. I should have told the tribe, or at least you, but I did not.” 

“Why?” 

“Indeed, Many Paths, now I think it a mistake. But the reason I did not tell the tribe? If they all knew that such a powerful weapon existed in the hands of our enemies and that we do not have such weapons, would it not panic them?” 

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“I don’t — I don’t know for certain, Revered One. But Eagle Eyes and Lion Slayer witnessed it first hand. And they did not panic. They made their way back despite such a weapon. They lived to tell the tale. Have you not always said that decisions are best when based on what is actually true — that we cannot pretend wishes are facts.” 

“I have said that. And I believe it. Yet, it is also true that moods can be contagious. I wouldn’t want to have everyone give up without a fight because of all this killing stick or a prophesy dream about such killing sticks. A dark mood of hopelessness can be every bit as deadly as these killing sticks.”

Many Paths nodded. “Shadow Walker was just now saying the same thing.” 

The Older Shaman frowned. “Shadow Walker? Is he back? Are you okay?”

Many Paths looked at She Who Saves Many Lives and said, “What? Oh, no, he’s not back. I miss him. But sometimes…he feels so close to me. I took out one of the rings of empathy while I was walking back with Easy Tears and Trunk of Tree. I felt such longing for Shadow Walker and that I mindlessly fingered the Sixth Ring of Empathy, I imagined that he was so close. I could hear him talking and saying the same thing about moods being contagious and about not knowing whether to share some truth with someone else. I miss him. But somehow, I am sure he is okay. First, let us feast and then let us hear the tale of Eagle Eyes. Then, if it comes to you, you might share your prophesy dream about the killing stick.”

“Yes. It was more than just the killing stick, though that itself is worthy of thought. Everything was dying. But, I should share something else with you. It wasn’t only that I was afraid of spreading a dark and hopeless mood. There was one very odd thing about this prophesy dream. It disturbs me.” 

Silence. Many Paths began to wonder whether such a wise one as She Who Saves Many Lives had also the difficulty of choosing among so many ways to proceed, or whether there was one clear path but it was a difficult one to follow, or even begin. Many Paths imagined herself at the edge of a cliff overlooking water roiling far below. A hundred enemies who she knew would torture and kill her ran screaming toward her. She would jump. But it wouldn’t be easy. What to say? What to say, Many Paths wondered. Then, she simply smiled, moved forward a step and took the hands of She Who Saves Many Lives in her own, letting the warmth of their hands flow through each other and making a circle with their arms.

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In this way, each of them really felt, as well as knew, that they were both close cousins, leaves on the same twig of the great tree of life. There was no need for secrecy. It’s all about all of us learning for all of us. All of us realize that it would be easier to leap off that cliff with someone else.

She Who Saves Many Lives continued, “Whenever I have had a prophesy dream before, I feel a strong wind in my face. I feel as though I am walking…not really walking…but floating forward, being drawn toward what I am about to see of the future.”

Many Paths nodded as she looked intently into She Who Saves Many Lives. 

“But in that dream…in that dream I felt wind at my back, yet I was sucked backwards. I don’t know what this means. I have always heard in the tales handed down to me of dreaming in the former way. Is it thus with you as well?”

Many Paths said, “Oh, I hardly think my dreams really qualify as prophesy dreams…” 

She Who Saves Many Lives tilted her head back and forth and clicked. “Many Paths. Come on. No need for false modesty. We’re trying to solve a problem here. Have your prophesy dreams had you going backwards or forwards or both?” 

Many Paths nodded. “All my prophesy dreams save one have been as the first one you described, being drawn forward. But I also heard about prophesy dreams always in the terms you described long before I ever had one myself, so I suppose that could influence how it appeared to me, or indeed, how I remembered it.” 

She Who Saves Many Lives nodded, “Or even how you describe it to me since you would still like to be in my good graces. Which you always will be, incidentally. But let’s get back to the one that was not like that. In that one you were going backwards?”

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Artwork by Pierce Morgan

Many Paths shook her head. “No, I wasn’t going backwards. I stood there and watched things happening all around me. It was as though I could see every direction at once. It was like…when you are in a dance and everyone is singing around you and all the voices go together, but if you try, you can pick out the singing of each person because each person’s voice is slightly different. You can hear where everyone is all around you. It was like that but I could see as well as hear all around me. All my senses were everywhere! And, there were patterns. There were patterns sliding across patterns. But in my dream, there was not past. Nor future. There was only present. And present extended everywhere — everywhere at once. The past, the present, and the future were simply different ways to look at the patterns and only from one angle. The dream seemed to be telling me that past, present and future are all one. It makes no sense, but that is what it seemed.” 

A long silence fell between them: the old leader and the new leader. Each considered the words of the other. At last, Many Paths realized that though she loved to gain the wise counsel of She Who Saves Many Lives, Many Paths herself was now leader. In her judgement, once the tale of the killing sticks was told, everyone should dialogue about these killing sticks. At that point, she guessed She Who Saves Many Lives would volunteer her dream as well. The tribe as a whole must decide what this meant for them. For her part, Many Paths found it hard to believe the tribe would ‘panic.’ No, there were many ways to kill. Even if there were many killing sticks among the people who steal children, even such as those must drink, they must sleep, they must breathe, they must eat. Even great oaks fall. So too, the mightiest great cat and the most colossal cave bear. No foe is unbeatable.

This topic of the Killing Sticks was something for the whole tribe to think on. She felt again a deep longing for Shadow Walker. Without thinking, she began to tumble the Rings of Empathy in her hands.

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——————————————-

Author Page on Amazon. 

The Winning Weekend Warrior focuses on the mental game for all sports including tennis, golf, softball, ping pong, basketball, etc. 

Tales from an American Childhood recounts early experiences and then relates them to contemporary issues and events. 

Fit in Bits shows how to work more exercise into daily activities. 

Turing’s Nightmares contains 23 short stories to explore the practical & ethical implications of AI & robotics. 

A Pattern Language for Collaboration and Cooperation

A Little is not a Lot

Guns and Love

Child Like or Childish?

Travels with Sadie Joint Problem Solving

The Walkabout Diaries: Sunsets

Absolute is not Just a Vodka

Dick-Taters

Plans for US; some GRUesome

Happy Talk Lies

Essays on America: The Game

Essays on America: Wednesday

Essays on America: The Loud Defense of Untenable Positions

Their Dead Shark Eyes

Imagine All the People…

The Dance of Billions

Roar, Ocean, Roar!

All We Stand to Lose

After All

Fish Have No Word for Water

Solomon’s Seal

16 Thursday Apr 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, Uncategorized, Veritas

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“This Solomon’s Seal is delicious, Cat Eyes.” Tu-Swift had not realized how famished he was till be began eating. His meals at the ROI camp had been barely adequate calorically and lacked vital nutrients. Then, he had spent days mainly running from fire, limping, and riding a hollow log. 

Cat Eyes finished a bite and said, “Thanks. Nothing special. It’s Solomon’s Zeal by the way.” 

Tu-Swift shoveled in some more of the delicate roots. He closed his eyes, savoring the flavor. After swallowing, Tu-Swift glanced at Cat Eyes. “That’s what I said. Solomon’s Seal.” 

Cat Eye’s eyes twinkled. “Yes. But it’s called Solomon’s Zeal.”

Shadow Walker chimed in. “I’m sure it’s called Solomon’s Seal, Cat Eyes.” 

Cat Eyes considered. “I learned about it long ago from my mother. In the days before I was stolen. I was young. I could be mistaken. But I really think Ma called it Solomon’s Zeal. In fact, I asked her what ‘Zeal’ was. She explained…” 

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Cat Eyes paused. She looked down and a far-away look came into her eyes. A teardrop slid down her cheek. Her voice roughened. “She explained what it meant. I suppose…since our branches walked over the mountain many years ago…I suppose we could have gradually changed the name. I don’t know.” 

Tu-Swift looked to Shadow Walker. “What or who is Solomon, anyway?” 

The group looked at each other blankly. Cat Eyes asked Jaccim and the two women, Rachel and Chrystal in their own language. All three were all familiar with the plant and had similar though different names for it. But all contained something like “Solomon” — though no-one had any idea what that meant. 

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Tu-Swift finished the last bite and said cheerily, “I don’t know who you are, Solomon, but thanks for the roots! I ate them with zeal.” He smiled broadly at Cat Eyes. Rachel tugged at her shoulder asking her to explain. Explaining wordplay across languages is never an easy task for the translator, but the expressions of amusement spread as she explained in various languages, one by one. 

Tu-Swift looked at her with something akin to admiration. This look was not lost on Shadow Walker. He kenned as well that Cat Eyes was special in more ways than her irises. Thinking of special women quickly led Shadow Walker to think of Many Paths. He missed her. He felt it as a hollowness that began in his chest and crept deeply into all his limbs. More than that, even the simple pleasure of eating after going without seemed somewhat flat. 

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At the same time, he felt responsible, as the oldest and strongest, for the safety of this entire party. He knew that moods could spread from one person to another and while they might be safe now from the ROI and the neighboring Z-lotz, such safety could be wishful thinking. None of them knew whether the Center Place of the Veritas itself had been attacked or whether any of the rest of their expedition had returned. It would be easy for Shadow Walker to walk the shadows and spiral himself into an ever-darker place of negative speculation. But such a mood could be contagious and so he forced himself to turn his mind elsewhere.  

As he often did, he took out one of the Rings of Empathy, the one only he and Many Paths shared. He turned it in his hand and felt a certainty grow that Many Paths was alive and well — at least for the near future. It could, of course, simply be a fantasy, but it made him feel better. And he looked over at Tu-Swift who hung on every word and gesture of Cat Eyes. She was beginning to relate one of the few memories she had from the Veritas land in the meadow between two mountains. 

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“We were out gathering medicinal herbs and came over a rise to see a long and lovely meadow before us, filled with the blazes of a thousand thousand blooms and blossoms of every hue. My Ma had a wondrous voice and she began to sing the story of the forgotten fields.” 

Tu-Swift sat mesmerized. Though he had many times heard the legend of the forgotten field of flowers, he had only heard it chanted, never sung tunefully as now. Cat Eyes seemed to sculpt the air itself. At long last, she came to the sad ending, the time when people forgot to enjoy the field of flowers and speak of their common gratitude for life and list the things they agreed on before beginning to speak of that which people disagreed on. 

Tu-Swift and Shadow Walker had many times heard the story before, but the companions of Cat Eyes had not. She did not try to reproduce the song but told them the gist of the story quickly. Tu-Swift sat for another moment simply looking in awe at Cat Eyes as she chattered in so many language so quickly. He realized he was tired, bone tired, but as he arose, Cat Eyes surprised him by continuing the singing. 

Shadow Walker had already arisen but sat back down in curiosity as well as common courtesy. He had never heard this verse either. The story had always ended with a sad lament, but now Cat Eyes was singing what appeared to be another verse. It made little sense but its mood was darker than the ending lament they were familiar with. She sang of a great death of spirit, and a time of darkness when the people stopped trying to find truth. She sang of a day that rose with a score of suns rather than just one — a day that spewed death far and wide.  

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Though it was only a story and a song, and surely this last part was completely fanciful, Tu-Swift tasted the salt of his own tear. He stared into the fire, remembering the fire that had almost burned him alive and tried to imagine that of which she sang— a day of fire everywhere.  A day of great death when people had grown too greedy and too rushed, when they had replaced woods, and fields, and meant to replace life itself. 

Tu-Swift frowned, sure as he readied himself for sleep that his dreams would be unsettling indeed. Someone of the Veritas village where she had grown up had made a horror story to scare children. He shook his head. 

Such craziness. People could never be that stupid. They know the story of the Orange Man. He shook his head and drifted off with this phrase reverberating in his head: 

“Such craziness.”

——————————————————-

Myths of the Veritas: The Forgotten Field (Prose; First Verse Only). 

The Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

The Myths of the Veritas: Beginning of Book One. 

The Myths of the Veritas: Beginning of Book Two. 

Author Page on Amazon. 

Where Does Your Loyalty Lie?

My Cousin Bobby

Labelism

You Bet Your Life

After All

We Won the War! We Won the War!

Who Won the War?

All We Stand to Lose

The Update Problem

The Stopping Rule

Dick-Taters

Absolute Is Not Just a Vodka

Lion Slayer & Eagle Eyes Return

13 Monday Apr 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, politics, psychology, Uncategorized

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Although Lion Slayer had not specifically been tested or trained the way that Eagle Eyes had been, since he was a human being, he could read the excitement on the visage of Eagle Eyes as she crouched down, turned back and scurried back toward him. 

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“What did you see? What’s there?” asked Lion Slayer. 

“I saw an old friend. The Mountain of Twin Peaks. We are only two days from our Center Place. Sorry, I mean…well, the Center Place of the Veritas. Who knows? Perhaps we will soon see all our friends. Let me return to the crest and scan the horizon for trouble for a while. If all looks well, we should continue our journey.”

“I pray to soon see once again Hudah Salem and that she is well. And, for Fleet-of-Foot as well.”

Soon, they both lay on their bellies at the crest and scanned the land below them for any signs of trouble. It occurred to Eagle Eyes that Lion Slayer was unlikely to see something that escaped her own eyes, but she kept that to herself. And, she could well be wrong. Just because she could see details and patterns that escaped most people did not prove he was incapable of recognizing patterns that she could not see. After all, he had spent years seeing patterns in a different environment than she had. He might well see dangers that she would have missed. As Shadow Walker discovered, a snake may find you by your heat. She imagined for a moment being a snake finding Lion Slayer by his heat. That line of though, for some odd reason,  reminded her that Lion Slayer looked strong and handsome.

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After a time, they glanced at each other, smiled, and nodded to signal their agreement that it was time to move forward. Though they had spotted no trouble, because they were visible on this downslope for a good distance in many directions, they moved only when the wind stirred and kept from moving in lock-step. Soon, they reached the cover of a large wood. They entered the forest in good spirits. Eagle Eyes had reassured Lion Slayer that they would very soon reach lands that she was intimately familiar with. 

“If we’re lucky,” she claimed, “we may make tomorrow night’s feast!

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Meanwhile, Trunk of Tree had somehow convinced himself that he would make a better leader than Many Paths. Try as he might, he could not convince others to share this opinion. All he did as he sought out support was to distance himself from others and encourage them to distrust him. Prior to his questioning of Many Paths, he had actually been popular and well-respected among the Veritas, both for his strength and for his not inconsiderable military instincts. But this campaign, he reflected, is going very badly for me. He brooded on his failure and recalled that ALT-R had used POND MUD in his various schemes. As he paced back and forth along a line of wild blueberries, he turned the problem this way and that. Aloud, he said, “Who can be my POND MUD?” 

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As chance would have it, Many Paths had come with Easy Tears to pick some blueberries and overheard his odd question. Preoccupied as he was, Trunk of Tree did not notice their presence. Many Paths found herself tempted to keep around the bend out of sight to see whether Trunk of Tree would say anything else. But she felt a mild dishonesty fringed such an action so she playfully announced, “Well, met, Trunk of Tree. I don’t think that things ended well for POND MUD, nor for ALT-R either. But I am sorry if you are mourning him. I felt bad that we lost both of them to the forces of greed and deception. In the end, it was as though they were the spawn of The Orange Man.” 

Trunk of Tree glanced back and forth between the two young maids and his cheeks reddened. “Well, I’m not really mourning him. I was just curious — do you know anything about their friendship? I mean, I don’t see why POND MUD did whatever ALT-R said. Do you understand it?” 

“Not fully,” answered Many Paths truthfully. “I did find out that POND MUD somehow got it in his head — well, because ALT-R told him so — that ALT-R had saved his life. Nothing could be further from the truth. I am almost certain that ALT-R tricked POND MUD into getting in the quicksand in the first place. And he could easily have pulled him out with a vine or brach or rope, but he made POND MUD really scared and convinced him he had to literally put his face in the mud in order to get out.”

“So….? Did you set him straight?” asked Trunk of Tree. 

“I tried to. I think many people told him the same thing. But he kept asking more people. He was looking for a certain answer — that ALT-R had saved his life. But no-one else thought so. That just made him — somehow — believe ALT-R … harder? Is that the word? As though he insisted on hanging on to this false belief. I don’t fully understand that part.”  

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The three of them began silently partaking of the delicious berries. After a time, Many Paths said, “Have you ever started to lose your balance and then the harder you try to right yourself, the more out of balance you become? It felt a little bit like that. POND MUD couldn’t help himself and when he did, he began to feel guilty — as though he were betraying his friend ALT-R to even consider whether he had been telling the truth. Ironic, eh? ALT-R was using him — abusing him really. But whenever POND MUD thought along those lines, he felt guilty so … so he was more peaceful inside to just believe the lies of ALT-R. I don’t really know, Trunk of Tree, but that is my surmise.”

“How stupid of POND MUD!” exclaimed Trunk of Tree, a trifle too loudly, it seemed to Many Paths. 

“Indeed,” answered Many Paths. “I feel sorry for him. I keep wondering what I could have said to allow him to see the truth that was staring him in the face.”

Trunk of Tree got a faraway look in his eye. “Perhaps you didn’t properly use the Rings of Empathy. Maybe…just maybe it takes actual physical strength to force insight onto someone.” 

Easy Tears frowned and tilted her head at that comment. Many Paths gave a sardonic smile. “You might be right, Trunk of Tree. I do not have such an understanding from She Who Saves Many Lives. It’s not…It’s just a ring. Well, seven of them. I use them to … connect with people; not control them. I have never tried to use them in the way that you propose.”

“Exactly. You’ve never even tried. That’s the problem with women. You and She Who Saves Many Lives aren’t using the true power of the rings. If a man had them — a man who had power in his heart and soul and body, he could make people see the truth. That’s why I think I should be leader. I would not be afraid to use the power of the rings.” 

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Many Paths reached into the crevice between her breasts and pulled on a leather thong. Out through the neck of her tunic a small leather pouch popped. “Well, let’s try your experiment then. Here. Easy Tears is enjoying those blueberries. As am I. But here, borrow the rings and see whether you can convince her they are no good.” 

“What? You can do that? You would do that? You would give me the Rings of Empathy? You’re a fool, but thank you.” He held out his hand and Many Paths plonked down the pouch into Trunk of Trees ample hand. “I’m not giving them to you. I’m lending them. Have a go.” 

Trunk of Tree could hardly believe his good fortune. He had plotted and schemed to obtain the Rings of Empathy and Many Paths had given them to him. He thought: I can get everything now. He held all the rings in his hands and begin concentrating as he intoned, “Easy Tears, you do not like the blueberries. You hate them in fact. You will give all of yours to me.” 

Easy Tears began trembling. She fell to the ground and muttered in a strange voice, “I love blueberries. Oh, no, I hate blueberries. I love them. I hate them. No, no. The power of the ring is too strong. Oh, they are burning me. The blueberries are setting me on fire. Oh, no!” She began rolling uncontrollably on the ground. 

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Many Paths could see that Easy Tears was convulsing with silent laughter.  Many Paths quickly knelt down beside her and whispered into the ear of Easy Tears “Don’t humiliate him. Break it to him gently.” 

Trunk of Tree held his hands high and shouted with joy. “You See. You see. I can harness the magic of the Rings.” 

Easy Tears was laughing so hard now that her face was wet with tears and she couldn’t catch her breath. 

Many Paths considered joining in the fun and leading on Trunk of Tree. In some fundamental way, that would be cruel. Wasn’t it just as wrong to bully Trunk of Tree with her superior insight into human nature as it would be if he used his superior strength to bully someone? Among many possibilities she considered that she wanted to sow doubt in his mind quickly but also gently. “Do you remember, Trunk of Tree, that wrestling trick you taught me when we were kids? I think you called it “willow wand”? Is that right? And the harder someone rushed at you…”

“Why are you asking about wrestling?” sneered Trunk of Tree.  Did you see how I bent her mind with these rings? I don’t understand why you never tried it. Or, maybe you did but you’re not strong enough to make it work.”

Many Paths sighed. 

“Trunk of Tree,” she began, and noted that a hint of exasperation had crept into her voice. She tried to concentrate on what she admired about Trunk of Tree and spoke again, this time with genuine affection. “Trunk of Tree, you know what a great jokester Easy Tears is and how she has facility to fool others with play acting. Right?” 

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“What are you saying? That she faked it? That was a real curse. Look at her even now, she writhes in pain. I am sorry, Easy Tears. I didn’t know how powerful I would be with the rings.” 

“Oh, Trunk of Tree,” chuckled Easy Tears, “You went along with my play-acting splendidly. I think we may have really fooled Many Paths there for a moment. Right, Many Paths? Admit it. You thought, just for a moment that maybe they really were magic. Come on. Admit it.” 

Many Paths nodded and smiled. Easy Tears had some brilliant thoughts. She thought: This way, I can ‘take the fall’ for the joke and save Trunk of Tree’s pride, provided only he’s smart enough to play along. “You did. You did. For a moment there, you two had me going. What’s that sound? Drums. Listen. Two of our own approach. It’s Lion Slayer and Eagle Eyes. They’ve returned. Let’s go hear their tale.”

Many Paths turned and ran toward the Center Place of the Veritas, deftly snatching her pouch with the Seven Rings of Empathy out of Trunk of Tree’s hand before he could even react. Soon, Easy Tears and Trunk of Tree were running behind her, eager to hear what news they had brought. At least for now, Trunk of Tree’s thirst for power seemed to her to have evaporated like a morning mist under the rising sun. Many Paths felt happy and grateful but for some reason, a seemingly random thought came to her:

“Winter is coming.” 

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Author Page on Amazon.

The Myth of the Veritas: The Forgotten Field. 

The Orange Man.

The First Ring of Empathy

Con-Con Man’s Special Friend

A Query on Quislings

The Update Problem

The Stopping Rule

Satire Slain; Fans Mourn Death of Genre

What About the Butter Dish?

Where Does Your Loyalty Lie?

My Cousin Bobby

The Walkabout Diaries:

Travels with Sadie

Donny Takes a Blue Ribbon in Spelling

Imagine All the People…

The Dance of Billions

Roar, Ocean, Roar!

Guernica

All We Stand to Lose

Who Won the War?

We Won the War! We Won the War!

Fish Have No Word for Water

 

A Small Snippet of Cloth

11 Saturday Apr 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, management, politics, psychology, Veritas

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Many Paths approached the Veritas Center Place with a smile on her face. She realized she was famished and the aromas of the feast made her mouth water. As she approached, she scanned the scene and nodded as most glanced up from their feasting to note her appearance and smiled. She nodded slightly and slid into an open space near Stone Chipper and A-OC. She enjoyed their company. It also afforded her an unobstructed view of Trunk of Tree. Ever since Many Paths had rejected his advances, he had mounted a whispering campaign to spread lies about her. Although the general conversation of the Veritas made it impossible to hear what he was saying, Trunk of Tree seemed oblivious to the fact that Many Paths could easily read his lips as well as the replies of his companion. She did this while carrying on a pleasant conversation about the pros and cons of various types of stone to use for spear tips and arrow tips. 

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Trunk of Tree had at first accepted the idea of Many Paths being chosen as the new leader. She had shown remarkable leadership and perspicacity in the Great Battle of the Three Paths. He had always hated doing nothing. Many Paths had not, in fact, asked Trunk of Tree to “do nothing.” She had asked him, and he had agreed, to oversee the understanding of how their defenses had been compromised enough to allow the attack of fire arrows during the Feast of Bel-Tanay. And, then, he had been put in charge of improving those defenses. That work was done. It pained Trunk of Tree to have no mate and in order to curb his worry about Easy Tears, he “decided” that she was dead, along with all the others who had gone on the mission to find Tu-Swift. In the mind of Trunk of Tree, Many Paths had sent too small a war party and now, they were certainly all dead. He had tried to strike an alliance with Many Paths through marriage but she had refused, instead sticking with the idea that these warriors were not dead but still on their mission. This was nonsense to Trunk of Tree. It had been weeks. And there was no sign of any of them. 

Trunk of Tree would bend the ear of any who would listen. At first, he tried to incite members of the Veritas to question her judgement, but Many Paths had been chosen by the Trials of the Seven Rings of Empathy. She had been chosen by She Who Saved Many Lives and while Many Paths was as yet unproven, She Who Saved Many Lives had earned great respect among all in the Veritas. Trunk of Tree garnered very little support for replacing Many Paths and putting he himself in charge. Trunk of Tree changed his tactics and began spreading lies about Many Paths, claiming that she had cheated during the trials. When that tactic failed to bring about any credence, he began spreading rumors that she had been intimate with Trunk of Tree and now she kept coming after him while he rejected her. That was almost true, he nearly convinced himself, because he had come after her. What difference did it make if he turned the story slightly to suit his own purpose? Of course, the Myth of the Orange Man kept coming to mind, but he pushed it aside as he tried to convince Squash Planter to support him. This is the conversation that Many Paths decoded from her vantage at the feast: 

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“How can she be over there smiling as though all is well when we are missing many of our best warriors?” began Trunk of Tree. Physical strength was an asset of Trunk of Tree, but diplomacy and politics were not. Many Paths noted that he did not bother to work from common ground but began straight-away with the topic he wanted to explore. She could see that Squash Planter frowned and glanced her way. She was uncomfortable with the topic and skeptical by nature.

Trunk of Tree pressed on. “She has always been very attracted to me. We lay together many times before I rejected her and then she turned to the now dead Shadow Walker. Once she realized he was dead, she again advanced on me. Really too soon for honor, in my opinion. But I think she is desperate now for a replacement husband. I just am not that man. I miss Easy Tears who is also no doubt dead. But we must overcome sorrow and do what we need to do to save the tribe. If I am chosen as the replacement, you will be among my commanders. We will have a War Party of strength and destroy these people who sit astride horses once and for all! And, when that’s done, we’ll go after the Nomads of the South. I suspect some treachery on their part is also involved. Doesn’t it strike you as an odd coincidence that a short time after the Nomads of the South return with Eagle Eyes and Fleet-of-Foot we are attacked by the Child Stealers? I say Those Who Steal Children and the Sand Eaters of the South work together to steal our richer lands. How can it be otherwise? Do you want your children stolen? Do you want them to come and steal our lands, trample all the squash plants, and make this whole land a desert?” 

Many Paths smiled slightly and shook her head slightly. Trunk of Tree was strong, but not at all effective as a politician. He talked incessantly and did not once try to understand the concerns of Squash Planter. Stone Chipper noticed her reaction and asked, “You don’t agree, Many Paths? You prefer the slow, carefully abrasion method of making arrow points?” 

“No, no. I’m sorry, Stone Chipper. I was smiling about something different. I have news I need to share with the tribe and I think it’s time. Most folks are done with their supper. I agree with you that the chipped points of flint are much, much sharper and better.” 

Many Paths stood now on her bench and held up her right hand. “Veritas. I have some news I need to share with all of you. I must warn you that it is not very complete news, but I did want to share it with everyone. “This,”she said as she held aloft the shred of blue clothing, “is from Eagle Eyes. I recognize it because she and I found the indigo gentian together that was used to dye part of her dress. She put this on the leg of one of the eagles she trained. This eagle came to me and allowed me to retrieve this small shred, sent as a sign that she, at least, is alive.” 

A cheer rose up from the people. 

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Trunk of Tree stood up on his bench and shouted, “How do we know that? It’s nonsense! I don’t see any eagle! Where’s the eagle? It’s just a piece of cloth. She’s lying to you!  Anyone can claim a piece of cloth is from Eagle Eyes. But the truth is that the warriors she sent out are all dead. Even my sweet Easy Tears!” 

Trunk of Tree scanned the faces in the crowd and could see no nods. They simply stared at him. Trunk of Tree looked intently, trying to connect with someone who looked sympathetic. What about this new group that walked into the margin of the Center Place? They were a rag-tag crew, he thought to himself and they drew more clearly into view. And then a voice he recognized rang out. 

“Is that so, oh, Trunk of Tree. We are all dead are we?” 

Trunk of Tree nearly fell backwards off bench. His mouth fell open, and he leapt down. The sight of Easy Tears blew out the flame his doubt, his fear, and his ambition. He sprinted to Easy Tears and wrapped his arms around her. Everyone now approached the returning warriors with a torrent of questions. 

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Many Paths stood on her bench and in a surprisingly loud and steady voice said, “Welcome back! We all have many questions. But I suggests that rather than attack our friends like a pack of angry fire ants, we invite them to a nice meal. Then, we will hear their story. Then, we can ask our questions. I’m sure we have many.

And so it came to be. Fleet-of-Foot told the main story from the beginning of their journey to their encounter with the odd door. He described, as best he could, the strange cold, hard, heavy material. He described their rescue of Tu-Swift and reassured everyone that Tu-Swift was — or at least had been — unharmed. When it came time to introduce Day-Nah, he looked to Hudah Salah who nodded and did the honors. Easy Tears continued the narrative and described how they had run in the night and were soon pursued by a war party from the ROI. She described how the fire arrows had started a fire and how the party had been scattered. As she told of the fire, she alluded to the Myth of the Orange Man. “Fire, like fear and hatred and lies, are hard to control. We believe that the village of the ROI has been destroyed, not by us, but by their own fire arrows. It seems to me, that the ROI have learned the wrong lesson from the Myth of the Orange Man.” 

She told of Shadow Walker and his injury and how they all decided that he alone would continue to search for Tu-Swift because they wanted to bring back what they had learned of The People Who Steal Children. “One thing we particular found odd was that they seemed to show no interest or skill in covering their trail. Nonetheless, we were stymied when we first came to the hidden door. We thought perhaps a people who have the speed of horses do not bother to cover their trail. In any case, Tu-Swift devised a way to release the horses. We do not know whether they will be able to recapture them. I’m sorry to say, we do not know the fate of Eagle Eyes or Lion Slayer. For that matter, we are not sure about Shadow Walker or Tu-Swift. What news do you have of these friends?” 

Many Paths spoke. “I am so happy to see you all well and uninjured. I confess, it would be nice to know about the others as well, of course.” The crowd muttered its approval. 

Many Paths continued, “I do have some news, but not much. Just before the feast, one of the eagles that Eagle Eyes trained came with a strip of cloth from Eagle Eyes. I know it is hers because I can smell her scent on it. But there is also the smell of fire. If she were still in the fire, I doubt she would take the time to send a message. Of course, I don’t know what happened later. It made me think how wonderful it would be if we could send more complete messages to each other by using eagles or wolves. I continue to feel that Shadow Walker and Tu-Swift will return to us. Time will tell. But let us learn more about these People Who Steal the Children of Others.” 

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———————————————

Author Page on Amazon. 

The Myth of the Orange Man.

Beginning of Book One: The First Ring of Empathy

Beginning of Book Two: Feast and Fire. 

Pattern Language for Cooperation

The Day From Hell: Why Should Anyone Care?

A little is not a Lot

After All

All We Stand to Lose

The Truth Train

Travels with Sadie:

The Walkabout Diaries:

It was in His Nature

 

Myths of the Veritas: When Eagles Return

10 Friday Apr 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, politics, Uncategorized, Veritas

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collaboration, communication, cooperation, Democracy, empathy, fiction, honesty, leadership, legends, life, lying, myths, politics, stories, story, teamwork, truth, USA, Veritas, writing

Though the winged creature was hooded, Many Paths stretched her hand forth slowly and carefully so as not to startle the raptor away. As she did so, she imitated the screes of joy the eagles sang when they rode the air high above. She hoped that would work. It seemed to help to train the wolves. She missed them too! So many of her favorite people gone — and at her suggestion. To the task at hand, she ordered herself. 

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It occurred to her at just this moment that perhaps the eagles were not singing for joy at all. Maybe they were exchanging information about the location of prey below! Or, maybe they were arguing about whose turn it was to have first go at devouring the body of the unlucky rabbit or mouse. Here I am, she chuckled, named Many Paths and still jumping to conclusions and taking the first line of thought that arises. 

What else might they be? What do people do? People speak of things far beyond their immediate concerns. Do the animals? Do they tell each other stories? Make promises? Do they apologize? Do they try to trick each other? Well, they certainly do that! 

Even as her mind raced about the challenges of cooperating with animals of a different species, her hand still slid steadily and smoothly to the target and she deftly undid the small knots. Now, she slowly withdrew her hand and murmured warmly to the raptor on her arm. 

“Thank you, mighty eagle, for this word from afar.” 

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Many Paths recognized the cloth even before it was fully unrolled: the shred was from Eagle Eyes! The two of them had travelled together to gather the rare indigo gentian which Eagle Eyes had used to dye part of her smock. 

Many Paths felt a sudden pull of connection to Eagle Eyes as she felt the cloth. She held it close and drew breath in through her nostrils. Perhaps it was only imagination but she caught the scent of Eagle Eyes. Something else was much stronger though! Soot. Fire. As she looked more closely, she could see that a tiny section of the cloth had been burned! 

She of Many Paths felt that she had to share this new information with the tribe … and soon. First, she wanted to think what it might signify. Many Paths frowned. She wished that Eagle Eyes might have somehow drawn a map — possibly even including the positions of all of the companions of Eagle Eyes. She couldn’t tell whether Shadow Walker or Tu-Swift were all right. Why couldn’t she include cloth from them too…or their signs. She recalled with a smile the map that She Who Saves Many Lives had given her for their test for the First Ring of Empathy. But of course, that map was much too large to expect an eagle to carry very far. 

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Many Paths strode toward the feast and tried to frame how she would present this. On the one hand, it was good news, but the news was ambiguous and incomplete. The fire part didn’t seem positive, but it was hard to tell. Too bad, she thought, that eagles couldn’t carry a better and more complete map. But the wolves could! Maybe they would bring more complete news. She felt a pang of affection for them as well as loss. She missed the wolves. Immediately, a much stronger feeling of missing flowed over her, for everyone, but especially Tu-Swift and Shadow Walker. She sighed and felt a big hollow inside, but then, the image of Shadow Walker came quite clearly to mind. She felt as though she could almost hear him talking though it seemed likely he was far away. The mind does play funny tricks sometimes, thought Many Paths, but it seems like he is telling me that my idea is right; we could communicate over distances by sending maps and symbols. Sounds a bit crazy, but why not? The wolves can track by a scent from something that is no longer there. What if we humans could learn to put a whole host of marks and scents on paper and then send it quickly via the wolves? She arrived at the feast and mentally placed this idea up on a branch of a tree she kept for “Interesting ideas to be thought about later.” For now it was time to reassure the people and tell them what she knew. For a split second, she considered the idea to pretend that she had simply “foreseen” that Eagle Eyes was all right and that there had been a fire. People might begin to believe she was magic and that could help focus the people to a purpose when the need became great. She could even weave a story that involved the “Magic Rings of Empathy.” 

Now she smiled at the folly of that course. If she were successful in this lie — because exaggerating one’s own powers is always a lie — it would only encourage her to make even more outrageous lies in the future. The people cannot be led on a wise path with lies. That seems obvious. 

Why then did she come up with such absurd courses of action? Maybe it was to continue to strengthen her resolve to do what was best for her people. For each time such a plot surfaced, at least so far, she had resisted the temptation. Mainly, she saw it was the wrong thing to do. Imagine that your eyes began lying to your toes about the position of a stone. Imagine that your mouth lied to your stomach and your hand lied to your mouth. 

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Even from a selfish standpoint, such exaggerations of her powers would be quite dangerous. She could be found out and lose all credibility with the tribe. Suppose someone believed that the Magic of Remote Sight arose from the Rings alone. Someone might contrive to steal those rings, with or without her fingers attached! If she shared the actual evidence she had, a shred of cloth, the whole tribe could apply their wisdom about likely interpretations. But if, instead, she presented her interpretation as fact, people could not think straight nor generate the full set of likely possibilities. 

Beyond that, Many Paths knew that she could never fully enjoy and participate in the feast or in talking with her tribe mates if she knew she were telling them a lie. She would be — forever alone — even if they never found out. She would know she was lying. She would know. And that would put up a wall between them. No matter what someone said to her, she would have to “check to see” whether her answer would betray her. A moment’s lapse of ethics, thought She of Many Paths, could lead to a lifetime of cover-ups and further lies. 

Instead, she took her place among warm greetings and admiration. She let it be known that she had some interesting news to share around the fire after their meal of venison and corn on the cob.

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————————————————

The Creation Myth of the Veritas

The Orange Man: A Parable of Lying and Greed

The First Ring of Empathy (The Start of Book One) 

Fire and Feast (The Start of Book Two)

An Essay on How we sometimes Confuse the Label with the Thing

Author Page on Amazon

Corn on the Cob (An Essay on Mindfulness and Gratitude)

At Least He’s Our Monster

Come Together Right Now

The Isle of Right

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

The Truth Train

A Lot is Not a Little

Absolute is not Just a Vodka

The Crows and Me

Guernica

Travels with Sadie: Teamwork

The Walkabout Diaries: Mind Walk

Pattern Language for Collaboration and Cooperation

Fifteen Properties

The “Not-See” Party

The Illness that’s Everywhere

09 Thursday Apr 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, politics, psychology, story, Veritas

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Eagles, ecology, family, fiction, greed, hope, leadership, legends, life, love, mental-health, myths, nature, pollution, story, Veritas, writing

“I don’t really feel sick. Not exactly,” said the white-haired lady.

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Many Paths sat down on the edge of the pine bough bed and looked down warmly into the eyes of She Who Saved Many Lives. She squeezed her mentor’s hand a bit tighter as she asked, “Can you tell me how you feel, Great Leader?” 

She Who Saved Many Lives chuckled a bit. “That’s you now, dear.” She squeezed the hands of Many Paths and returned the warm gaze. “You’re the Leader.”

“It is more like everything feels sick,” Saved Many Lives continued. “Not a lot, but some. I see, feel, hear, sense — an illness that is slight for now but growing and that it is — everywhere.”

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Many Paths now grew worried. Perhaps, as sometimes happened, something bad grew in the brain of She Who Saved Many Lives. Or, maybe she was being metaphorical and vague on purpose. That was one of her many “tricks” to get you to think for yourself. Maybe, thought Many Paths, she is even now about to teach me a lesson. I would certainly welcome it. The mood of Many Paths improved. She at least hoped that her mentor was teaching her. 

She Who Saved Many Lives sighed and continued:“It’s most like a dizziness. As when you spin around in a circle for a long time. Then you stop and the whole world seems to be spinning. You lose your balance and fall. And that is what this feels like as well. Something in the world is very much out of balance. It is falling. And though the earth still lives, there are those about in the world who would make earth herself fall.”

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“And that makes you dizzy?” Many Paths still thought a teaching lesson was not the only hypothesis, but the best. 

“It does when I look upon it. I want to understand what it is and how it came about and how to stop it of course. And when I study into it, that’s when I myself start to feel that dizziness. How can anyone want to destroy life itself? They want it to be imbalanced! They want life to stop!” She Who Saved Many Lives sat up and Many Paths could see her mentor’s forehead was wet.  

Many Paths thought perhaps rest was the most important thing to prescribe for her patient. But her “patient” was anything but; she seemed obsessed with trying to find out what was imbalanced. Many Paths decided to pursue the conversation. 

“How could the world get out of balance? If it were in balance to start with, why wouldn’t it stay in balance?”

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She Who Saved Many Lives nodded, “I have asked myself that same question. As you no doubt would appreciate, there are many possible answers. It might be that none of them are correct. It is possible that the imbalance was always there but too slight for us to notice. Over time, the imbalance became so large that it was impossible to return to balance.”

Many Paths remained more concerned with her patient than with such a philosophical discussion. But her curiosity had nonetheless been engaged. She Who Saved Many Lives had a gift for that. 

“I can see how a small imbalance could lead to a larger one. But it may also be true that imbalance and balance are themselves in a cycle. When a person is a tiny toddler, they fall a lot! They have very little sense of balance. At last they grow into adulthood and they have good balance. Then…no offense meant…but as you get very old, your sense of balance becomes worse. Then, you fall again.”

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“Yes, and of course, each of us individually dies. For us, as a separate being, we grow so far out of balance that we die. And yet normally, the whole of life is not thrown off balance by that. But my sense of things is that people are “falling” at all ages, not just toddlers and old folks. It is something — I don’t think there is a better word than “evil” — some idea or way of thinking that is not only wrong in some circumstances, but actually aimed at self-destruction. I think of NUT-PI and also from our own tribe, ALT-R and POND MUD. But it is not just them. Somehow, they or people like them are infecting others. It may be that I myself am ill. And because of that, I sense illness elsewhere. But I don’t honestly think it’s like that. The illness is everywhere — and it makes me sick to think of it — that there are life forms out there — as recounted in The Myth of the Orange Man — that want to destroy life itself for some trivial greed.” 

For a time, the two women sat in silence, each considering the words of She Who Saves Many Lives. Many Paths at last began, “I have felt something similar. I felt it when POND MUD and ALT-R betrayed us. But after we won the Battle of the Three Paths, it seemed as though the world was well again. Then someone stole Tu-Swift. Stole him. Who would steal the children of others? And then, in trying to find Tu-Swift, others left — and no-one is back. No-one. They may all be dead for all I know. Everything is sick. Yes. Very sick. And I don’t know how to cure it.” 

Many Paths looked for a time into the eyes of She Who Saves Many Lives for an answer, for a clue. Any moment now, she hoped, her mentor would ask one key question and this would all fall into place. At last, Many Paths realized that was not going to happen. Saves Many Lives had not been teaching at all. She was as confused as Many Paths. Saves Many Lives had reminded Many Paths that it was now her turn to be Leader. Many Paths took a deep breath and gave the hand of She Who Saves Many Lives one last squeeze and stood up. 

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“But we will find out how to cure it. We will find out. But for now, let us both get some rest. Tomorrow may bring good news or bad, but it will be another day. Many Paths smiled, turned, and exited the Cabin of her mentor. She looked out onto the Center Place of the Veritas. She smelled the cooking fires, and she heard the happy chatter of her people punctuated now and again with a laugh. It suddenly hit her that she loved this entire tribe and loved it with the same ferocity as a mother grizzly loves her cubs. She would find out what this illness of the world was and together they would cure it. They would fix it. Surely, life itself would come to her aid. 

She walked over to the edge of the broad, swiftly flowing stream. She smiled as she remembered the clever way that Eagle Eyes had turned this stream into a weapon in the Battle of Three Paths. She could see the pink and gold of the sunset clouds reflected yet transformed by the churning water. She knew that somehow and some day, all would be well once again. Life, after all, was robust. It also flashed through her mind that she was only a few feet from the spot where KAVA-NUT had been attacked by a trained eagle. That was something to behold. If we can enlist nature….

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Many Paths looked upward imagining the great eagle swooping down. She imagined that she could actually glimpse the eagle in the fading light…careening over the trees. No. It was an eagle, she decided, and headed this way! Could it be…? Many Paths quickly flung several folds of her robe over her forearm so that the Eagle could land there. She put her forearm up parallel to the ground and the Eagle alit. 

Many Paths recognized the Eagle as one of the ones that Eagle Eyes had trained. This one appears to have a badly broken leg, she thought. But as she calmed the Eagle, hooding its vision with her hand, she noticed that something was attached to the Eagle’s leg. She had to breathe deeply to calm herself enough to remove the something without spooking the Eagle. It seemed to be some sort of message.

———————————-

The Creation Myth of the Veritas

The Orange Man: A Parable of Lying and Greed

The First Ring of Empathy (The Start of Book One) 

Fire and Feast (The Start of Book Two)

Previous Most Recent Chapter in the Myths of the Veritas

An Essay on How we sometimes Confuse the Label with the Thing

Author Page on Amazon

My Cousin Bobby

The Stopping Rule

The Update Problem 

You Bet Your Life

Essays on America: The Game

What About the Butter Dish?

Math Class: Who are You?

Is there Honor in Killing Sticks?

07 Tuesday Apr 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, politics, Uncategorized, Veritas

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ethics, fiction, free, honor, leadership, legend, life, myth, peace, story, strategy, tactics, truth, Veritas, war, weapons, writing

Eagle Eyes and Lion Slayer moved swiftly away from the walled city, at first walking rapidly and later running quickly. They had both been shaken badly by seeing the killing stick. When they were sufficiently far from the city, and into a copse of white birches, they stopped to catch their breath and talk about what they had witnessed. 

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Eagle Eyes began by simply looking at Lion Slayer, grimacing and wordlessly shrugging her shoulders.

Lion Slayer responded simply by slowly shaking his head from side to side. 

They simply stared at each other for some time. At last, Eagle Eyes put into words what they both felt. “What was that? What did we just see?” 

Lion Slayer answered, “I have no idea for what it even could be. I have never seen or heard of such a thing.”

“Nor I!” said Eagle Eyes. “But I am fairly certain it was real and not play acting or ritual. The screams of pain were too real. If that was Nut-Pi, that is very bad news indeed.”

“Indeed it is!” 

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Eagle Eyes looked for a moment at Lion Slayer. “I’m glad you eventually came to fight on our side instead of working with Nut-Pi.” 

“Yes,” said Lion Slayer. “So am I. In fact, all of Nomads of the South as you call us — we feel that way. Nut-Pi is cruel and treacherous. He is quite possibly the one who began this stealing of children. My brother was one of the people who first spoke to the Cupiditas. Nut-Pi was not a nice person. Not at all. But he had a way of talking…it would make you think he was on your side and doing you a favor, but — no, no, don’t shake your head. I am not making excuses. It’s just…I’m agreeing with you. Nut-Pi has a giant city. He may have horses. He is very cruel, but he’s also a very persuasive liar to some. My brother never fell for it, but some of the Elders did. Frankly, I think the Cupiditas envied the Veritas.”

Eagle Eyes, “Why? Never mind. But now there is the killing stick! We don’t know what it is or why they steal children or how many killing sticks they have or how they work. We must get back and warn the Veritas.” 

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“But we could stay and find out more. Perhaps we could even steal some such killing sticks!” suggested Lion Slayer. 

“What?! What honor would be in such a kill? Nut-Pi showed no strength or skill. And it certainly was not a fair fight. Who would want to kill in such a way? Perhaps only Nut-Pi. Although…”

“Although what, Eagle Eyes?” asked Lion Slayer. 

“I wonder,” began Eagle Eyes, “if using such killing sticks makes a person into someone like Nut-Pi. But, no we must get this much information back there as swiftly as possible. We might learn more and we might not, and meanwhile, we might get captured and they would torture us for information about how best to destroy both our tribes! We can speculate further as we run. Come on!” 

They began to jog. Lion Slayer ran alongside through some sparse woods and then onto a burned field. “Do you know the way back to the Veritas from where we are?”

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“I know the direction but am not familiar with the terrain. Though as you see, we are lucky enough to have a sunny day with many small clouds.” Eagle Eyes glanced over at Lion Slayer. 

He said, “You mean because the clouds will keep it from being too hot or because it’s easier to know your direction when the sun’s out?” 

She said, “No. Both of those are true. But I speak of a third thing. The clouds help reveal the terrain beneath them.” 

Lion Slayer frowned. He took some even deeper breaths to ‘save up’ for more dialogue. “What mean you? Clouds reveal terrain? Clouds are clouds.” 

Eagle Eyes said, “Clouds do have their own nature. But it not just water that reflects. Everything reflects everything. Of course, the clouds are not like a still lake. But have you noticed that the water appears different when the sky is dark and cloudy from how it appears when the sky is clear and blue?”

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Lion Slayer answered, “Yes, but that’s because water reflects everything.”

Eagle Eyes smiled and said, “Indeed. Because everything reflects everything.”

Lion Slayer kept jogging but paused in his speech. At last, he said, “All right. Everything reflects everything, but not so you can see anything!”

Eagle Eyes laughed a bit, which slowed her pace. So, she controlled herself and continued, “You mean to say that you cannot see anything. I can. A cloud such as these changes slightly. Such a cloud over a desert shines a little more yellow; such a cloud over a snowy mountain appears whiter; such a cloud over a pine forest is greener; such a cloud over a large lake is slightly bluer. You can see fire reflected in it too though not a picture of the flames. Perhaps I can teach you by the time we get back to the Veritas center place.”

Eagle Eyes continued, “First, and perhaps most importantly, do you see any flickers of red up there?” 

Lion Slayer considered, “No, but I never do except at sunup and sundown.” 

Eagle Eyes shook her head, “If you ever know of a fire and there are such clouds as these, look and you will see. It can be pretty obvious. The others are a little more subtle. Look north and then look south and tell me what you see in the colors.”

Lion Slayer at last said, “They are different colors and shades and shadows both places. They aren’t one color or another!”

Eagle Eyes allowed herself a small chuckle. “Of course not. I don’t mean the cloud will be colored blue like a blueberry or white like a sun-bleached skull. Subtle. Subtle.”

They came to a well worn path but had to run single file. Eagle Eyes jogged on in the lead with Lion Slayer a few strides behind. They ran on in silence for a time enjoying the motion, and enjoying the slow descent. They also enjoyed not being on constant guard against discovery by the Z-LOTZ. 

At last, Lion Slayer broke the silence. “I’m not sure. But it seems like north is whiter and south is slightly more yellow. But it’s crazy. There’s no such thing or people would have told me.” 

Eagle Eyes said, “I wasn’t taught either. And that seems strange. Maybe the elders want kids to figure it out for themselves. But it might be that I noticed it because…well, I notice things.” 

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Lion Slayer tried to pay a compliment, “You do.  Have. Good eyes!”

Eagle Eyes said, “Thank you, but it isn’t just things I see. I hear things too. For instance, I hear from your breathing that you need a short break.” 

Lion Slayer replied, “No. I. Don’t. I.” 

Eagle Eyes stopped. “Fine. I need a short break. We’ll make better time if we don’t wear ourselves out. Plus there is water up ahead.” 

Lion Slayer said, “You see that in the clouds?” 

Eagle Eyes answered, “No, I see it in the plants and the trees. You don’t have this kind of lushness in your country. For you, the signs of water are quite obvious. There is desert and there is oasis. Right?” 

Lion Slayer nodded, “Yes, that’s true. Although, in the deep desert, one may sometimes see an oasis that is not really there. We call them a mirage. An oasis that lies.” 

Eagle Eyes nodded. “I hate lies. But I don’t think the oasis is lying really. I think what you are seeing is a reflection. But not off clouds and not off water. So…what could such a thing be reflecting from?”

Lion Slayer could now feel his legs becoming heavy. Eagle Eyes had been right. He did need to get a drink and stretch & take a short break. 

Reluctant to start a fire whose smoke might still be visible to Z-LOTZ scouts, Eagle Eyes shared the remainder of her pemmican provision. They ate silently for a time and sipped the cool fresh water that had indeed been where Eagle Eyes had predicted it to be. They agreed that they would walk for awhile and then jog again in the afternoon. As they walked, the conversation again turned toward the killing sticks. 

Eagle Eyes wondered aloud, “How would you feel if you killed an enemy with such a killing stick — especially if they had no killing stick of their own? Would you feel any sense of victory? Any pride? Or, would you become something like Nut-Pi? I don’t know. I used eagles against someone with no eagles. I used a change in the river’s course against those who had no idea that such was possible. But there was always some risk on both sides. What if you could kill someone from the other side of a mountain? Never having to see their face? Killing is not the first answer ever, but how does this strike you?”

Lion Slayer sighed. “If it were up to me, we would not use weapons at all. We would wrestle — something I am quite skilled at. But I can see why someone who is not so good a wrestler might prefer to use a club or knife. For honor though, the combatants must be equally matched. If they use killing sticks, we need to get some as well.”

 

 

 

—————————————————

Author’s Page on Amazon. 

Beginning of the Myths of the Veritas

Beginning of Book Two of the Myths of the Veritas

An Essay on Labelism 

Who Won the War?

We Won the War! We Won the War! 

Guernica

Essays on America: The Game

Timeline for RIME

An Open Sore from Hell

Guns and Love

The Forgotten Field

The Orange Man

At Least He’s Our Monster

The Truth Train

Roar, Ocean, Roar!

Take a Glance; Join the Dance

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

The Ailing King of Agitate

Dick-Taters

The Dance of Billions

All We Stand to Lose

After All

 

The Eyes of the Cat (MOTV)

26 Thursday Mar 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, Uncategorized, Veritas

≈ Leave a comment

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#leadership, fantasy, fiction, learning, legends, mercy, myth, peace, ROI, stories, strategy, tactics, trust, Veritas, war, writing

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When entering a dark place from a very light place, as all Veritas learned at an early age, prudence demanded using caution. The current situation of Tu-Swift and Shadow Walker demanded still more caution. Both had been injured; though not seriously; both felt limited mobility. Beyond that, the three women and one man that Tu-Swift had recounted as the occupants the cellar were all members of the tribe of People Who Steal Children! 

All of these factors weighed on the mind of Shadow Walker. He glanced around what was left of the ancient armory. He spied no more swords but there were a few spears and clubs which could prove useful. They would be heavy to carry far, even had they both been whole-bodied. Still, thought Shadow Walker, there is enough weight here that I could prevent them from ever leaving this cellar, if indeed, they are even still in there. Tu-Swift thinks they’re safe, but he is really still a child. 

Shadow Walker leaned close to Tu-Swift. “How sure are you that they are still in there? This could be a trap.” 

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“I am certain that they are still in there.” 

Shadow Walker chewed his lip thoughtfully. “How can you be so sure?”

Tu-Swift smiled, “This twig tells me so.” 

Shadow Walker frowned, “What? What do you mean, the twig…ah.” Shadow Walker’s broad smile now supplanted the frown. “You put an inconspicuous twig on the edge so that if this door were moved you would know because the twig would be moved. Ingenious.” 

Tu-Swift smiled too. It really warmed his heart to see Shadow Walker. “My tribe, especially including you and Many Paths, has taught me well, and for that I am grateful. As to the motives of Those Who Steal Children — of that I am less sure. But these four below seemed very … frightened. The man never struck me as personally cruel in the first place. And now, he’s in serious pain and has been for some time. Whatever his motives in the long term, I don’t think he’s likely to attack us.” 

Tu-Swift continued, “There is something else. These people … are … odd. I mean, they never laugh or sing or dance. I think they … follow orders. And, now they have no leader. I think if their leader were here, and he told them to attack us, they would do so. But without their leader encouraging them to do it … I don’t think so. Their leader though … even though I never saw him … I could feel a kind of cold wind of evil ever blowing outward from him. Or, as though he were a river of evil from another world, flowing into and poisoning our own.” 

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At last, after a long shared look, they creaked open the heavy trap-door — just a crack. The cellar didn’t just seem dark; it appeared to have sucked all the light out of the area. At least they could see that no-one crouched at the top of the stairs ready to ambush them. After some moments, their eyes began to adjust and they could see that the stairway was clear. They could hear the moaning of Jaccim Nohan, and Tu-Swift noted that it seemed somewhat weaker than when he had left.

Tu-Swift descended first. He used his sword now as a bit of a crutch. He greeted the people with a combination of sign language, Veritas (though he was sure none of them knew it), and a few words of greeting he had overheard. He tried to explain that his friend, Shadow Walker, was of his tribe and had come with medicine to help Jaccim Nohan. 

{Translator’s Note}: It was indeed a few words — one to be exact. The closest modern American equivalent might be a flat-toned: “Hey.” It seems, so far as we can calculate, by far the most common form of greeting. The ROI rarely went beyond this. But I will render it into the more common polite Veritas expression: ‘How does it go with you?.’ 

Shadow Walker took a quick look around to ensure no-one else was nearby and descended after Tu-Swift. He patted his chest and said, “Shadow Walker.” He held up the leaves and pointed to them. “Medicine. Heal you.” He pointed to Jaccim. 

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Shadow Walker’s eyes had now adjusted completely to the dim and flickering torchlight in the cellar. As he approached these odd people, he began to further appreciate Tu-Swift’s assessment: these folks hardly had the demeanor of warriors. They exuded fear, bewilderment, and confusion; he felt no anger or hatred whatsoever. That, of course, did not mean that there was no danger; not at all. A confused and fearful animal might attack even when the odds were stacked against it. Shadow Walker would continue to be wary, but he definitely wanted to reassure these people, not dominate them. 

Although the Veritas language and that of the ROI were very distinct, there were some similarities. Using a combination of speech and sign language, Shadow Walker gained their confidence enough to approach closely. First, he pointed to his ankle, still visibly swollen. He hopped and grimaced. He applied a small portion of the herb to his knee. Then, he hopped without grimacing.

Eventually, he “convinced” them to try the medicine. He prepared the leaves in boiling water and spun them about to cool them down before applying them. These “burns” were not of fire but moving across too long and too hard which also causes “burns.” Only as Shadow Walker gently lay the leaves did he realize the strangest sensation — as though he were laying these leaves here and now but also there and then. Not only that: he had the distinct impression that he was not himself but a different person. A woman. One that he knew. But the image flickered out before he could place her. How could he…? 

IMG_4202

Shadow Walker returned his attention to the task at hand, the here and now. The more he looked in the eyes of this man, the less danger he felt. Suddenly, he spun around as one of the women spoke from right beside his ear. 

“Thank you for helping Jaccim Nohan. I am called “The Cat-Eyed One,” for clear reasons.” 

Shadow Walker looked at her wide-eyed and simply shook his head from side to side. “If you speak Veritas, why didn’t you say so, Cat-Eyed One?” And now, Shadow Walker could see that indeed, her pupils were as those of a cat. 

“I had to learn whether or not it was safe to trust you. Once I was sure you meant us no malice, I thought I should let you know.” 

Shadow Walker frowned, “But how? How do you know Veritas?”

“I was brought up in a branch of the Veritas over the snow mountains,” began Cat Eyes. 

landscape photography of snowy mountain

Photo by eberhard grossgasteiger on Pexels.com

“There is no such tribe! Not of Veritas! No-one has survived going over the snow mountains! There is legend of a band trying, but they all perished and never returned!” 

Cat Eyes smiled. “And, if no-one else crossed the mountains and no-one returned, how do you know they all perished?” 

Shadow Walker replied quickly, “Because they would have let us know! That is our way. To share knowledge!” 

Cat Eyes smiled still more widely, “Indeed it is. And that is why I am sharing this knowledge with you. Though you seem rather an ungracious recipient,” she chuckled. “No, no. Patience, please. I will explain why no-one returned. On our ancestor’s journey, they crossed the mountains and some of that was on a sheet of solid ice. Once we had settled in a fertile valley, far beyond the snow mountains, and were sure that we were secure and not beset by enemies or disease and would survive, we sent a party up to re-cross and re-connect with our center place. But they came back saddened to tell us that the solid ice sheet was no longer solid at all. It was too treacherous to cross. The leader of their band stepped on ice and it broke, he begin to slip through a crack. His hands grabbed frantically at the edge as he slid down.  His friends could hear his screams — which thankfully only lasted a few long minutes — and that scream arose from a place far, far below. 

“After that, people were very cautious and tested the ice and walked with long poles, but the ice never improved. In fact, it got worse every year. I suppose some day, the ice may be totally melted and then we could make our way on dirt or, more likely, mud.”

Shadow Walker listened and began to take seriously this notion that he had close cousins he had not been known about. “But then, Eyes of Cat, how did you get here?”

Cat Eyes nodded and her face grew grim; her voice, quiet. “I was stolen. I was a child. They came on their horses and took me. I don’t really know whether anyone cared enough to try to track me… or…” Her voice trailed off.

Shadow Walker still didn’t understand why someone would steal children. “But why did they steal you from your own family? I don’t — that’s what happened to Tu-Swift as well. Why?”

Cat Eyes replied, “I recognize Tu-Swift. I knew he was Veritas and that he too had been stolen. But I never had an opportunity — the freedom — to contact him. You see, the ROI stole me to be a slave.”

Shadow Walker sighed. “I still don’t see why they would bother to go to all the trouble to steal someone else’s child. It makes no sense. Can’t they just use their own children? They are called the ‘ROI’?” 

Cat Eyes sighed as well. “Yes. That’s what they call themselves The ROI. Don’t you see? They use us for things they never want their own children to experience. They did things to me that they would never do to their own children.” 

IMG_3122—————————————————

The Myths of the Veritas: Book One.

The Myths of the Veritas: Book Two.

How Social Media Might Exaggerate Division. 

City Living vs. Country Living. 

Author Page on Amazon

Where Does Your Loyalty Lie? 

My Cousin Bobby

What About the Butter Dish?

The Ailing King of Agitate

The Truth Train

Absolute is not Just a Vodka

Poker Chips

The Con Con’s Special Friend

A Query on Quislings

Dick-Taters

The Game

Roar, Ocean, Roar

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