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A Difficult Journey

17 Sunday May 2026

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

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empathy, ethics, family, fiction, leadership, legends, life, myths, politics, problem_solving, sense_making, short story, stories, story, tales, teamwork, truth, Veritas, writing

nature forest trees fog

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Trunk of Tree awoke just as the morning sun dispersed the fog. He sat up and then regretted it. Dizziness overcame him along with a pounding headache. He lay back down and the pain in his head doubled. His comrades began to notice that he had awakened. 

Easy Tears asked, “How is the head of Trunk of Tree this morning?” 

Soon the others had gathered around. “I’m fine. It’s late. We should leave soon. Where are we? Where’s the river?” 

Glances were exchanged and in a single minute of silence, Fleet of Foot was nominated and unanimously chosen as the one to take charge of telling Trunk of Tree what had happened and when exactly which truths should be told. 

“Last sunset, we were camped by the river and ready to settle down for the night when Jaccim noticed the horses were terribly nervous so indicating danger. There was lightening on the mountains and later we could hear water rushing toward us. Things got very confused then. You might have reminded us then about how Eagle Eyes used rushing water to destroy Cupiditas warriors. You might have led us to higher ground. You might have fallen at some point or been kicked by a horse, but you fell to the ground senseless at some point. Jaccim hoisted you onto a horse. He must be very strong, or perhaps you helped him a bit. Anyway, you lay senseless but safe all night. We tried to wake you up, but we couldn’t make anything like the roar of the water when the flood tore through here. Do you recall all the trees that were down there?” 

sunray through trees

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Trunk of Tree squinted his eyes. He took his head in his hands. “I don’t remember anything except we found water. And we need to find the Veritas. But we are Veritas. Aren’t we? But who is he? I don’t know you,” he said, pointing to Jaccim. “Why are there horses here?”

“Trunk of Tree,” said Fleet of Foot, “Listen to me. Look at me. I know for sure that you were bumped on the head hard. Hard enough to knock you out for hours. Your memory is … you need to take it easy for a few days till you remember what’s happening. We are Veritas. Yes. But this woman, Cat Eyes, told us of cousins over the Twin Peaks. And, this man, Jaccim, confirmed it. We are headed there now to learn what we can learn from these people. You are leading us. But for now, you should rest and let your head —- your head is like a bird nest that’s been scattered by the storm. Like the bird, you must now rebuild it from those broken pieces. Do you see?” 

Fleet of Foot looked first at Easy Tears and she nodded to him. He had done well, but her eyes shifted back to Trunk of Tree. He was going to go along with it. Easy Tears thought: Perhaps he had somehow learned a lesson to listen to those who know more. Or, perhaps feeling weakened put him in a more receptive mood. We will see whether this is a cool breeze or winter coming. Easy Tears looked back to Fleet of Foot and nodded again. Message received. 

For the next few days as they took it easy till Trunk of Tree seemed to have recovered his full strength, if not his full memory. After three such days of slow walking to accommodate the recovering leader of their expedition, they reached the foot of the first of Twin Peaks. At first, the path was fairly clear and open. Cat Eyes began to have a tingling on the nape of her neck. I am going home, she thought. I am at last going home. Will I remember anyone though? Or, will I be like Trunk of Tree and only remember my new friends? She shook her head slightly. She didn’t want to go through this whole sequence yet again. There’s no point, she told herself firmly. I will see soon enough, at least I will if this fool Trunk of Tree doesn’t get us killed by his stubbornness. He was still groggy, she thought. Maybe I could just pretend to like him, lie with him, and then in his sleep, while everyone else is asleep, I could… end him. 

scenic view of waterfalls

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Cat Eyes was somewhat startled to see Easy Tears and Fleet of Foot standing before her. Easy Tears spoke and the revenge fantasy dissipated like fog. “Does any of this seem familiar to you yet?”

“Oh. Oh, no. But I don’t expect it would. People stayed in our settlement for the most part. Venturing outside was … unnecessary … and also dangerous. We knew there were evil people out there. I mean who else would steal children away from their parents?”

They all considered this for a moment. 

Easy Tears said, “Suppose you met someone, fell in love and had a baby. And suppose you raised this baby for years. And then, someone stole your baby away. Wouldn’t you try to steal their baby away and trade it for getting your own back?”

Cat Eyes nodded. “I might indeed. I might get my revenge. But it has to be the right person. I can’t take it out on Trunk of Tree. It’s not his fault.”

Easy Tears and Fleet of Foot looked at each other. Easy Tears said, “Trunk of Tree? What does he have to do with this?”

Cat Eyes stared at the two of them. “Sorry. I was thinking about something else. Back to your story. Why couldn’t I just tell them that I would take their child unless they gave mine back?” 

Fleet of Foot nodded. “That might work. But the other person might simply keep your child but be more on guard about their own children. They might take your threat as a warning and they would prevent you from actually doing it.” 

“Especially,” added Easy Tears, “if they had Killing Sticks.” She paused for a moment. “So, I might. If that were the only way to get my own child back. Strike without warning.” 

After a fair pause, Fleet of Foot said, “What if that’s what the reason the Z-Lotz have the ROI steal children?” 

Easy Tears was taken aback. “What? What are you talking about? They stole Tu-Swift. They stole Dah-Nah. They stole Cat Eyes, too. No-one stole their children. At least, not yet.” 

Fleet of Foot continued, “But how do we know that? If we had stolen children, or our grandparents’ grandparents had, would we have sung songs about it? Even if it never happened, the Z-Lotz might think it had happened. Most of them may think they are somehow protecting their own children. Or trying to get their own kids back. I don’t know.” 

They sat, for a time, in silence. It was time to break camp. As Cat Eyes stood, she looked the two of them intently. “I know. I know how to tell.” 

“How is that?” asked Easy Tears. 

She answered in a quiet, venomous voice, “If you stole a child in order to get your own back, would you make it perform sexual favors for you in the meantime?” 

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“No,” answered Easy Tears, “of course not. That’s disgusting.” 

“Nor I, of course. Horrible,” said Fleet of Foot and he grimaced.

“I thought not,” said Cat Eyes. “That’s how you know they are evil. There is no excuse for raping a child no matter how many lies they tell about it.”  

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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  

Somewhere a Bird Cries

Peace

After All

All We Stand to Lose

We Won the War! We Won the War!

Who Won the War?

The Crows and Me

The Silent Screams of Dead Men’s Dreams

At Least He’s Our Monster

Wartime Playtime

14 Thursday May 2026

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

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books, creativity, empathy, Feedback, fiction, games, innovation, joy, learning, legends, life, myths, politics, short story, truth, Veritas, vicious cycle, war, weapons, writing

 

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Tu-Swift laughed.

He had mastered juggling four sacks, or four rocks and had been working all morning on five, but with little success. Sooz shook her head and chuckled good-naturedly. “Don’t give up, Tu-Swift. You’ll get there.” Then, after a pause, she added, “Though you may be an old man with a long white beard.” 

“What? You’ll pay for that!” He began to chase her around the training space. Being lighter, Sooz could turn more quickly. After a few moments, Cat Eyes appeared. Tu-Swift called out, “Help me catch this fox! I can’t turn fast enough!” 

Cat Eyes laughed as well. With a serious note in her voice, she added, “You shouldn’t be trying to turn fast. Let your knee heal, would you?” 

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Tu-Swift’s face darkened for a moment. The ground around them also grew dark as a passing cloud momentarily blocked the sun. He wondered briefly whether he would ever really regain his speed and mobility. Then, just as the ground grew sunny again, so did his face. Time would tell. Meantime…

Just then, he heard the deep voice of Jaccim. He was trying, but largely failing, to speak Veritas. With the help of Cat Eyes, he eventually made himself clear. He had asked why they were playing when there was likely to be a war which they should all be preparing for. They had been “marked” for war. This was no time for juggling nonsense or for laughing. 

Tu-Swift replied, “Hello, Jaccim. I see you brought your own clouds with you.” 

Sooz and Cat Eyes both laughed, though in a friendly way. Tu-Swift continued, “Jaccim, this is the way of the Veritas. Don’t you ever play?” 

Jaccim’s head snapped back and he frowned. He spoke and Cat Eyes translated. “Me? Certainly not! Play is for small children. Not someone your age. And certainly not someone my age. All of you should preparing for war. It is deadly serious.” 

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Many Paths who strode into the training area overheard the last part of the translated conversation. She smiled at all of them and supplemented her Veritas with sign language so that Jaccim would directly understand as much as possible. “You are right. It is serious. This is why we play. We need weapons. New weapons. Weapons that no-one will suspect. That is why  we watch and listen to those whose minds are like water flooding over new plains. They will go ways that we cannot foresee. Nor can others. What shall we care who wins a war if life holds no joy? Every moment now is precious. This is what the Veritas always teach. But now that we may be on the brink of destruction, joy is more important than ever.” 

Jaccim frowned and answered with a mixture of sign language and broken Veritas. “What may be gained by juggling bags or rocks? It is foolish.”

Many Paths smiled at Tu-Swift. She put her hand into a fold of her tunic and brought out a knife and casually tossed it to Tu-Swift. She quickly threw him two more. He easily caught all three and began juggling the three knives. 

Jaccim opened his mouth to speak, but before he could formulate his answer in the tongue of the Veritas, he heard three odd sounds a little like a horse’s whinny and a little like a large rock hitting a tree trunk. He frowned and then his mouth dropped open farther as he saw all three knives sticking out of three nearby tree trunks. Tu-Swift had thrown all three underhand and hard into three targets. Jaccim tried to speak but nothing came out. It wasn’t that he did not know the Veritas words for what he wanted to say. There were no words. Even a sensible language like ROI could not help him. Tu-Swift, meanwhile, calmly walked over and wiggled each of the knives out and handed them back to Many Paths. 

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She smiled at Tu-Swift and continued out of the clearing. As she reached the edge she looked back over her shoulder and said, “Keep up the good work.” 

Jaccim understood her words but not her thinking. She was supposed to be the leader. Yet she spoke of joy and play even though they would likely soon be at war. It made no sense, thought Jaccim. It’s what comes, he thought, of having a woman as leader. We would not have a woman as leader. Not the ROI. Nor would the Z-Lotz. It’s all foolishness. As the Veritas will soon discover for themselves. How had these people who play defeated the ROI and destroyed his village? 

Tu-Swift called out, “Many Paths! Have you a moment? I wish to show you something else!” 

Many Paths turned back, “I am on my way to meet up with Shadow Walker but I can see what else you have first.” 

Tu-Swift glanced at Sooz and once he had caught her eye, gestured over toward a contraption they had constructed at the end of the training compound. Two vines were suspended from a strong overhanging branch. The vines looped through a thick wooden plank which lay parallel to the ground. Sooz lifted a leg over the plank coquettishly as she smiled at Tu-Swift. He walked around behind her and pushed. He found pushing her surprisingly pleasurable and his cheeks flushed. 

back view photo of woman swinging

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Sooz swung forward and then arced back toward Tu-Swift. Just as she stopped, he pushed her again. Each time, he pushed at just the right time and she swung higher and higher. After a score of pushes, he changed the timing so that he pushed against her momentum and gradually slowed her to a stop. 

Jaccim shook his head. He could see no reason for such frivolity. 

Tu-Swift walked over to Many Paths. “We had been swinging on a single vine and Sooz thought this would work — and it did. But the thing we really wanted to show you is this. He walked over to a small pile of straps made of softened hide. He put a stone in a small, broad but shallow pit in the strap. He motioned for the others to stand behind a nearby tree and peek out. He put both ends of the strap in his hand and began whirling it around his head. He suddenly let go of one end and the stone went flying. It thunked loudly into one of the small, dead pine trunks that had been partly buried in the ground. Many Paths led the others over to see the result. The stone lay buried in the trunk. She nodded. “Nice,” she said. 

Many Paths nodded again. “Yes. This is good. You have an almost endless supply of stones. Imagine these flying into an army from many directions at once. It will be hard to defend against.” Many Paths smiled again at Tu-Swift and set off to meet up with Shadow Walker. 

As Many Paths left the clearing, she ducked under an overhanging branch of Witch Hazel and spoke aloud, “Thank you for your medicine.” She walked down a sweetly curving path toward a small spring. Three pink flowers, Lady Slippers, poked their heads through the dark greenery. She began thinking about the sedation caused by Lady Slippers and recalled what She Who Saves Many Lives had said. “After the sedation wears off, one may be nervous and high strung for a time.” Many Paths had only tried it twice and she experienced exactly what the elder had described both times. It had felt a lot like the way that the roots of Sweet Flag made her feel. But after the effects of Sweet Flag wore off, it made her feel tired and groggy. Odd, she thought. 

She chuckled at the swinging seat that Tu-Swift and Sooz had created though she couldn’t see how that led to the sling weapon he had shown her. It all had to do with the timings of the pushes, she reminded herself. Suddenly, many paths stopped. 

She thought of the swing, the pushes, the Lady Slippers, and the Sweet Flag. What if… what if I pushed with a little Lady Slipper and then… just when it began to wear off, I pulled with some Sweet Flag…a person might become very nervous and want more Lady Slipper… what would happen if they were pushed and pulled higher and higher? I wouldn’t poison the person exactly. Would it tear the body apart? Tearing the people apart with such pushes seemed to be what was indicated in the strange tales scribed into the sheaf of leaves that had been discovered by Lion Slayer and Eagle Eyes. Could that really happen? Was there a way to tear apart the Z-Lotz? Was there a way to tear apart the Veritas? And, if so, how could it be prevented? 

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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  

Where Does Your Loyalty Lie?

Come Back to the Light Side

Life is a Dance

Take a Glance; Join the Dance

The Dance of Billions

Imagine All the People

Roar, Ocean, Roar!

Resonance

 

 

Many Paths for Many Weapons

10 Sunday May 2026

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

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books, empathy, fiction, leadership, legends, life, myths, peace, politics, short story, stories, story, strategy, tales, truth, Veritas, war, writing

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In the Center Place of the Veritas, it happened throughout her life that Many Paths daily crossed the path of She Who Saves Many Lives. Lately, however, She Who Saves Many Lives had turned more often to the outskirts of the Center Place, dialoguing with the burbling brook, or watching for wildlife. So, after waiting for an accidental encounter for a few days, Many Paths decided to find the Elder intentionally to get her advice. As Many Paths approached the cabin of the former leader, she could already sense that the cabin was empty. It “sounded” empty and it felt empty. Many Paths looked at the sky, and a path appeared before her mind as to the one most harmonious to all her causes. So she took it. 

The day had broken hot and grown hotter. As soon as Many Paths ducked under the overhanging branches and entered the shaded outer woods, she felt the coolness like a drink of clear cold water. The deer flies immediately sensed her presence, but she, like most of the Veritas prepared herself for summer by using leaf tinctures of eucalyptus, thyme, lavender, and pepper. 

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Many Paths noticed that somehow, the flies sensed she was there and were attracted to her and yet…when they got near, instead of alighting and biting, they hovered and took off. Perhaps, there are ways to induce the Z-Lotz to wear perfumes or clothing that attracts insects such as wasps or ants or deer flies. Maybe we could make something that attracts the Z-Lotz thinking that we are “prey” but then, as they get closer, a different set of circumstances makes them think that we are not “prey” at all, but something quite dangerous, or disgusting, or unworthy of any attention at all. 

Many Paths emerged onto the grassy embankment alongside a brook which was bubbling its song to the world. She recognized the back of She Who Saves Many Lives, sitting silently on a fallen cottonwood trunk. Many Paths pondered seeing how close she could come to the older woman. It was a game they had played all their lives, but then, before taking a step, she decided against it. Maybe she would startle the older lady too much.

Without turning around, She Who Saves Many Lives spoke in her loud clear voice, “Well met, Many Paths. Come, come sit beside me.” She Who Saves Many Lives patted the dry, but mossy stump. “And don’t worry. If you sneak up behind me someday and scare me to my death, it was surely my time to become a more dispersed part of the great Tree of Life. You will have done me a great favor. I will at that last moment know you played a joke, and that you have truly mastered your skills as one who moves with the wind. And I will see the joke and the growth and know that I die with a friend who is a wonderful leader to our people. Is there a better death? I can think of none.” She Who Saves Many Lives smiled warmly and continued,  “But that time has not yet come. Now, Many Paths, about what did you wish to speak?”

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“As you know, She Who Saves Many Lives, we have various groups working on various problems and I am myself, leading the group to think of new weapons.” Many Paths sighed. “I am seeing weapons everywhere! Even walking here. Anywhere.” 

The Elder looked kindly at Many Paths and took hold of her hands. “It sounds to me as though you’re doing a good job. And, I know you have a great imagination. Yet, there is a problem?” 

“I’m afraid of what I may become if I see everything in terms of how it can maim, kill, fool, or protect. And even when — yesterday, I looked at the afternoon rainbow and tried to find a way to use it as a weapon. And I could not. Which I found frustrating. And, it made me not even like the rainbow! It’s beautiful! Shouldn’t that be enough? I don’t want to be a person who fails to see beauty. And, neither do I think it’s good for the tribe.”

She Who Saves Many Lives waited, as she knew good friends or good leaders often will have to do.

Many Paths continued. “Yesterday, I took a walk with the Wolf Pups and Shadow Walker. His ankle is fine now, but the way. Tu-Swift still has difficulties. We saw Stone Chipper with his son, Sees Horses. And the father showed me some very interesting rocks he had happened upon. He called it ‘mica’ and said he had never seen anything like it before. He showed some to us. It was … you could break this rock into very thin slices. They were so thin you could see right through the rock! It reminded me most of fish scales. Everyone was excited — I swear, even the wolf pups, though they were probably sensing our excitement. I immediately asked if it could be used for arrowheads. He said no, the material was very weak and to show me, he crumbled some in his fingers. Quite easily.” 

She Who Saves Many Lives waited. At last, as good friends and good leaders often will have to do, she prompted, “So you lost interest in the material?”

“No. That would have been bad enough, but I got more interested in the material. Because making arrowheads is something we’ve been doing for generations and generations. But making a weapon with mica. Now that would be something. It’s shiny. You can see through it. It’s weak, but light in weight. How do we use all that to make a weapon from it? That’s the question that my mind has been pre-occupied with ever since. But I cannot turn this mind for more than a moment to the question of how we might use mica in decoration or clothing or shelter. Though, by the way, it could keep the wind out yet let much light through. Most of my thoughts have been about how to use it as a weapon. And as I talked aloud, since I’m the leader, everyone else’s excitement … abated. Even the excitement of Shadow Walker. When he first saw this mica he was fascinated by it. Since it breaks easily yet feels hard, I wonder if one might build a bridge that every Veritas knows not to use.” The voice of Many Paths grew louder now with each word. “Because once you step out over the chasm it breaks into crumbs and you plummet to rocky bone-breaking death. Which, by the way, you deserve, because you stole my brother!”

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Many Paths had let go of the hands of She Who Saves Many Lives and now she stood, trembling with rage. Her voice became grim. “I will find every kind of weapon for these people. But what will it do to the tribe to make such weapons that … weapons that our enemies do not even see as weapons — poison disguised as food; traps disguised as steps; stones falling off buildings; air that kills; clothing that catches fire; it doesn’t end.” Many Paths took out the string upon which she had strung all seven rings of empathy. She sat now on a sandy patch near an old campfire, not far from She Who Saves Many Lives. “You gave me these rings of empathy and now…if I am to find weapons, will they not just get in the way? I mean won’t empathy get in the way?” She took the rings off her string and laid them out in a semi-circle in front of her. She arranged them distractedly. The sun was high and if she tilted the rings the proper way, each of them reflected light strongly in one direction. She played with tilting them so that the rays flitted across the face of a nearby reflector rock. 

She Who Saved Many Lives looked on. “You know in your heart that I did not give you the rings of empathy. You earned them. I didn’t play favorites. I think you are right to be concerned. Thinking about creative ways to harm or kill others is not something good for the soul. But you have such a good mind for thinking of weapons. Sometimes, of course, weapons have other uses, but that seems more like a rationalization, not a rationale. I think you are right though. At least until we find out more about the Killing Sticks, you need to think of all the ways to kill these People Who Steal Other People’s Children. They must not be allowed to keep stealing and killing or my prophesy dream may indeed come true. The Veritas could be wiped out. We know what happened as a result of the Orange Man, a whole tribe wiped out. We don’t want that, clearly.”  

Many Paths listened intently, not only because this was the way of the Veritas, but also because she was genuinely interested in the Elder’s thoughts. Nonetheless, Many Paths kept toying with the rings. She also recalled that she had put several pieces of mica into her tinder pouch, hoping that the cottony milkweed and dandelion seeds and cat-tail pollen would cushion the mica slices sufficiently to keep them whole. She was delighted to find they reflected spots onto the reflector wall as well and she wiggled them into the sand. 

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“Thank you for listening, Wise One. It feels good to be warming in the sunlight. It also feels good to listen to the light of your wisdom.” Many Paths did feel better, though nothing had really been yet resolved. “I’m warmer in the light of the sun. I’m warmer in the light of the sun.” 

“Yes, most of us are, Many Paths.” 

Many Paths stood up and grabbed a nearby twig. She set it up in the sand, like a tiny tree. “I’m warmer in the sun. I’m warmer in the sun.” Many Paths muttered this a few more times as she adjusted the rings and the mica slices so that they all beamed the reflected light onto the twig. As more reflections were added, it became more difficult to align them, that is, to tell where each reflection was. She found that if she started with the reflection above the nexus and slowly lowered it, she could put it right atop the others. It was clearly much brighter than a twig simply sitting in the sun. She felt sure that it was also warmer. She began to cautiously stretch her hand forward to see whether it had been warmed so quickly when the twig burst into flames. Many Paths jumped back. 

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Many Paths looked over at the astonished Elder and winked. “Everything is warmer in the sun. Perhaps I will rename myself ‘Many Weapons.’ Perhaps these Rings of Empathy really are more powerful than I was … led to believe.” 

“Many Paths, the power is in your mind. Now, as for the other, I can perform a ritual for you. And this is what I propose. So long as you are in the role of looking for weapons to use against the People Who Steal Children, I will paint your forehead and your cheeks with this blue war paint. You will be called “Many Paths for Many Weapons.” 

When we win and the Z-Lotz are no longer a threat, then I will remove your warpaint and we will simply call you “Many Paths” again. 

Many Paths looked at the wise smiling eyes of She Who Saves Many Lives. She nodded her head and saw the wisdom of formally recognizing a special role so that Many Paths would not confuse her natural bent with what she could accomplish. But she also vowed to try to think about how to make the Veritas stronger, healthier, and wiser in numerous ways. Among those ways would be using weapons but also learning how to create weapons out of anything. If they were in a battle; if they were — if they were captured. Look what Tu-Swift had done, she thought. “She Who Saves Many Lives, I have one more question to ask you. Do you think it appropriate to have a ceremony of a similar sort for Tu-Swift? He was able to wreak havoc amongst the ROI, even as an unarmed child. But, I have the same worry that I have for me and he is much younger.” 

“I don’t think working on how to defend himself would be more traumatic than having been stolen from the feast and thrown into a cage. Just as you feel you want to do something in your defense, and possibly for revenge, so too does he. But yes. He should be anointed anew until you defeat the Z-Lotz. However, you should be the one to anoint him. You are the leader now. I will only anoint you because anointing yourself is … it is not something seemly for any real leader ever to do. Your power, of course, should be … how on earth did you get that twig to burst into flames? That is not something I foresaw in the making of the rings. I did not know that they had that power.”

Many Paths said quietly. “The power of empathy is allowing each to know the heart of each. And, when that is truly done, then, the power of the rings is that all may be focused on defeating one. What is not even a weapon at all — such as a nice warming sun — can become a weapon when there are many working together.” 

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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  

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

Imagine All the People

The Silent Screams of Dead Mens Dreams

Small Things

Roar, Ocean, Roar!

Somewhere a Bird Sings

After All

Love and Guns

We Won the War! We Won the War!

The Dance of Billions 

Jaccim Fails to Explain

06 Wednesday May 2026

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

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

communication, empathy, ethics, fiction, leadership, learning, legend, loyalty, myth, relationships, short story, story, tale, trust, Veritas, writing

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Many Paths awoke early. The fragments of a dark dream hung about her. Tu-Swift! “Tu-Swift!” she called loudly. 

Her urgency startled Tu-Swift who jumped up suddenly saying, “What? What? What’s wrong?” 

Many Paths blinked and saw Tu-Swift standing and staring at her. “Sorry. I must have had a bad dream that you were gone again.” 

Tu-Swift shook his head. “No, I’m still here. You scared me.” 

Many Paths took in a deep calming breath and let it out slowly. “I’m sorry. I … I am glad you’re back, brother. It takes my mind a time to really believe it.” 

Tu-Swift nodded. “Yes. Sometimes I wake up and imagine I’m back in that wooden shack again in the village of the ROI. But I am here. I am safe. At least for now.” 

“For now. Yes, for now. I worry about the Killing Sticks though.” Many Paths took another large breath and added, “If there were no Killing Sticks, I would be spending all my energy trying to understand your discovery — and trying to connect with our brothers and sisters near the Twin Peaks. It seems that Jaccim may be able to lead us to the Veritas. But what do you think of him? Is the to be trusted?” 

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“Shadow Walker was also concerned. I don’t know. I remember ALT-R and POND MUD. ALT-R in particular spoke very smoothly and I would have believed him. Yet, he was corrupt. He even betrayed us to NUT-PI, the man with the Killing Stick. Perhaps I am not such a good judge of character.”

“ALT-R fooled many people of more summers that you, Tu-Swift. There’s no shame in that. Even She Who Saves Many Lives did not see the full evil of his heart. Nor I. But what of Jaccim? He is the only one among us who claims to know how to reach the tribe of the Veritas who live beyond the Twin Peaks.” 

“I trust him. I should say that I trust him here among us. And I trust him to lead the search party as he is best able. I don’t know what he would do if the ROI came here though. Maybe he would join them. You should talk with him yourself, Many Paths. You’re good at seeing the heart in someone.” 

“Thank you and I shall. I’m not so sure how good I am though. ALT-R and POND MUD — I failed to see that treachery. But you claim he was kind to you?”

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“I wouldn’t put it that way. I was essentially a slave. He was the least unkind. His two companions were sometimes cruel for no reason. To me, to Day-Nah and to the horses. Jaccim seemed cold but not actually cruel.” A frown crept across his face. “I am much happier to be back here with you and with my own people. The thing is…despite his injuries, it seems to me that Jaccim is actually happier here too. Don’t you find that odd? You might ask some of his companions. But that’s my impression.” 

“That would be odd indeed. I think I shall take your suggestion, despite the inconvenience of having to use Cat Eyes as a translator. Speaking of whom…?” She looked at Tu-Swift. 

Tu-Swift nodded. He had that slightly warm and slightly disturbing feeling that Many Paths looked at him in a way that made him say more than he meant to. 

“I know what you’re getting at. I like her. You have to admit that she’s quite remarkable. But Sooz is still my special friend. I would love to go with Cat Eyes to find her village. It would be an adventure. But I understand. I might just slow things down. Anyway, use your gift of looking into someone’s soul on him. You talk with him. See what you think.” 

Many Paths chuckled. “I cannot really look into someone’s soul. But I do try to see things from their perspective.” She took out a small vine on which she had strung her Seven Rings of Empathy and held them aloft and shook her hand playfully. “And, of course, with these Magic Rings, I can see through walls!” 

Tu-Swift smiled. “Very funny. Shadow Walker told me about the joke you played on Trunk of Tree.” 

“Yes. I suppose after what you two went through, you’re closer than ever. But don’t make fun of Trunk of Tree. He seems … for a time I was worried he might be on the path of ALT-R and POND MUD, but I think he’s going to be all right. It would not be helpful for him — please don’t tell anyone else. Honestly, I feel a little — I may have gone too far. He was really starting to annoy me. I was so worried about you and about Shadow Walker and he kept bugging me to just accept that you were both dead and that I should marry him.” 

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Many Paths shook her head. “Perhaps after breakfast, you could find Cat Eyes and Jaccim and the four of us could walk along the Rocky Ridge up to the Old Place and have a little lunch there while I question him. I still do not really understand him. He seems like a nice enough person. Yet, he lived among the ROI, and not only dealt with stolen children but he was apparently one of those who did the actual stealing. Such a heart, I cannot understand.” 

Tu-Swift took his leave and eagerly gobbled down his breakfast before searching out Cat Eyes and Jaccim. The two of them sat together, slightly apart from the main throng of the Veritas, sipping tea. As Tu-Swift approached them, he noted they were talking in ROI. Tu-Swift frowned. He did not like the sound of ROI. It reminded him of his time there, time when he did not know whether he would ever see any of his friends again. He took a deep, cleansing breath and continued to approach them. 

Cat Eyes spied him first. “Well met, Tu-Swift! Would you like some sassafras tea?” 

“Sassafras? Really, Cat Eyes? I didn’t know you could make good tea from sassafras. Jaccim. How are you feeling these days?” Tu-Swift spoke slowly and gestured so that he hoped Jaccim understood his greeting.” 

Cat Eyes judged from Jaccim’s puzzled look that he did not have any understanding. She quickly translated into ROI and Jaccim smiled at Tu-Swift. “Good. Good,” he said in highly accented Veritas. 

Tu-Swift nodded to Jaccim and said, “Good.” Then, he turned to Cat Eyes. “Many Paths asked me to arrange a walk with you after breakfast if you are amenable. We could go up to the Old Place and chat. Is that all right? I will probably ride slowly on Clip-Clop so I don’t slow you down too much. It’s a nice view from there.”

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Tu-Swift watched Jaccim closely judging whether he had understood any of his words. 

Cat Eyes spoke to Jaccim in ROI. Only then, did any light appear in Jaccim’s eyes. Jaccim nodded and spoke back in ROI. Cat Eyes smiled and turned to Tu-Swift. 

“We’re both fine with it, Tu-Swift. And, this tea,” she added as she handed a cup to Tu-Swift, “is not from the leaves of the Sassafras. It’s from the inner bark of the roots. Should we meet at the entrance to your cabin after you finish your tea?” 

On the trip up to the Old Place, Many Paths sang some songs. Although Jaccim struggled to understand Veritas, he could repeat some of the songs so everyone joined in. Most of the time, they had to travel single file. Many Paths remarked on the beautiful vista that opened up as they emerged from the forest. Others followed suit. Even Jaccim pointed to an unusually striking lone cedar tree, twisted by winds and weather. He said, “Good” in his odd accent. 

When they came to the Old Place, they sat in a circle and Many Paths passed around some pemmican for them to share. 

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Many Paths looked at Jaccim as she spoke but also held his eye as Cat Eyes translated her words into ROI. “How do you think of the ROI and the Veritas now that you have lived both places?” The question proved too abstract and vague for Jaccim, though because of the necessity to translate, it took awhile to realize this. Many Paths tried a different and more direct tact.

“Jaccim, do you prefer living with the ROI or the Veritas?” Many Paths could see that Jaccim remained puzzled by this as well, even after Cat Eyes not only translated the question but then tried to explain it in various ways. At last, she said to Many Paths, “He does not understand this question. So far as I can tell, he was — let me tell you how it was for me. I wanted to escape. I wanted to go home. Always. But I knew that I had to find some happiness where I was in order to stay alive long enough to have any chance of that happening. I could not spend my whole life wishing for something that might or might not happen and thereby not experience my actual life as it was. To be clear, this is not what he said. This is how I felt. But I think it’s akin. He was born into the ROI and now he is here. That’s that. He was never really given a “choice.” He cannot return to the ROI. He says he has no desire to go to live in a large cage which I guess is how he thinks of the city of the Z-Lotz.” 

Many Paths considered. She had hoped to come to the topic slowly and subtly but was making no progress. She decided to chance a more direct approach. 

“Jaccim, how could you steal children? I mean, how could you steal someone else’s child from them?” Many Paths had asked her question with a good deal of sign language and thought that perhaps Jaccim understood her question but she continued to look at his face as Cat Eyes translated. Once again, Cat Eyes and Jaccim spoke back and forth many times before Cat Eyes answered back to Many Paths. 

“I’m sorry,” Many Paths, “but I don’t think he understands the question. He says that he was told to do that by the people he had to obey. His assigned job was to steal as many as possible quickly; not to permanently disable the children; and not to be captured. It wasn’t his job, so he says, to understand why they stole children.” 

Many Paths frowned. Tu-Swift said, “I think that’s probably right. They viewed us, so far as I could tell, as another kind of horse. We are just tools, to them.”

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Drawing by Pierce Morgan

Many Paths shook her head in sadness. She wondered whether a people could be so … disconnected from the Great Tree of Life — so out of touch with their own heart — that they would not even notice how … hateful it was to steal someone’s child. Many Paths felt tempted to turn her hate onto Jaccim, but she intentionally slowed her breathing and tried to think what it might be like for her if she had been brought up among the ROI — doing things without question — whatever you were told — not thinking for yourself about right and wrong. Sometimes, that kind of discipline was required. But always? Even in hunting the Large Ones or in war, warriors sometimes see that plans must be changed in the moment. 

Many Paths sat silently, looking at Jaccim. She thought: He has spent his entire life not thinking about such questions. He just does what he is told to do by those he sees as his superiors. He has never thought about what it’s like from the child’s viewpoint or the parent whose child was stolen. Chiding him would accomplish nothing. He would have to be shown over a long period of time. For now, she thought, he clearly views me, and even Tu-Swift, as “superiors” so he can be trusted to fulfill his role. 

Many Paths smiled and asked, “Jaccim, do you notice how the horses gallop?” 

At last, a question he understood, thought Many Paths, because the answer came back quickly. Jaccim spoke with enthusiasm.

“Oh, they are so fast! And so … musical … in how they run.” 

“Yes,” replied Many Paths, as she began Jaccim’s first lesson in empathy; one taught to the Veritas in toddlerhood. 

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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 

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

The Isle of Right

The Orange Man

The Forgotten Field

You Bet Your Life

That Long Walk Home

The Truth Train

All We Stand to Lose

We Won the War! We Won the War!

Love and Guns

Guernica

There Never Was a Civil War

Absolute is not Just a Vodka

Dick-Taters

After All

An Open Sore from Hell

Travels with Sadie Joint Problem Solving

The Walkabout Diaries: Life Will Find a Way

Donnie Gets a Hamster!

Imagine All the People

The Dance of Billions

 

 

Love’s Afterglow

26 Sunday Apr 2026

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

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civility, empathy, fantasy, fiction, leadership, legends, life, love, myths, short story, story, tact, tales, Veritas, writing

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“Many Paths? Are you okay?” Many Paths recognized the voice of Tu-Swift and it nearly overwhelmed her. It seemed it had been so long since she had heard his voice. Each day after his kidnapping, she could hear his voice so clearly in her remembrances. She entered them diligently even after the rescue party left. She did not merely “try to remember.” She revisited the times and places of learning that she and Tu-Swift had shared. She conjured up his voice, his smell, the touch of his hand. She searched for some clue that might be helpful in finding him, even though the rescue party had left. Of course, along the way, she also encountered things she could have done differently; better examples that she could have used in her teaching; ways that she herself could have seen more quickly the insights Tu-Swift had offered her.

Now, Tu-Swift was right outside her dwelling, and not in memory only but in the flesh, alive, and generally well. Except, Many Paths realized, he is not really the same Tu-Swift. His voice sounds different. Definitely him, and yet, there is another note in that voice that was not there before. A deeper tone and a more thoughtful, more musical way of speaking signified to Many Paths that he was more mature, more confident, more balanced. To a lesser extent, she suddenly realized, the same could be said of Shadow Walker. 

Tu-Swift knocked again and spoke, “Many Paths? It’s almost time to begin the feast, I should think.”

“Yes, Tu-Swift, thank you! I’ll be down shortly. It’s so good to hear your voice again!” 

“You too!” 

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Many Paths could hear the uneven footfalls of Tu-Swift limp-running down toward the Central Fire and wondered whether he would ever regain his former speed. Then, Many Paths felt the gentle hand of Shadow Walker stroke her. She smiled and turned to face him. After spending most of the day in love-making, they had fallen asleep. Tu-Swift’s voice had awakened them both. Now, they had only a little time to be together privately before the Celebratory Feast and the Telling of Tales. 

Shadow Walker said softly, “You know, many times on my journeys, Many Paths, I really thought … I could … connect with you, especially when I felt this ring, the Sixth that you and I share.” 

“I did this as well, Shadow.” She smiled at Shadow Walker still more fully.  

Original Masks by Sarah Morgan

Original Masks by Sarah Morgan

“I did wish when we were out there, that we had been formally bonded. I understand that your position makes it complicated….”

“Shadow, we should be formally bonded. I am sorry to interrupt the flow of your words, but you were right and I was wrong. Not being formally bonded didn’t make it any easier whatsoever to deal with your being gone, the uncertainty of whether you’d come back, trying to make decisions. The truth is that we are bonded and, frankly, I don’t think it makes any difference whatsoever to us. But it could prove useful when it comes to others. For example, just because we weren’t formally bonded, after you were gone for some time, several young fellows each tried to suggest with more or less finesse, that he should replace you.”

“What? Who were these scoundrels? I’ll … have a word with them, shall we say.”

“Shadow, relax. It’s no big deal. The most persistent of the lot was your friend, Trunk of Tree. No, no, no, don’t frown so hard, you’ll crack your teeth. At least he was straightforward about it. He’s quite inept, however. Here I am missing you, loving you, beset by worries on every turn and he thinks to replace you, and, oh, by the way, in his version of reality, he would actually be the leader and I would — I don’t know — be his advisor. We need to give the poor boy some lessons in something — social relations. I need to get ready, but I do have to tell you one more story about your hapless friend. One of his complaints that I wasn’t using the Rings of Empathy “properly” because I wasn’t decisive enough and strong enough. So, I invited him to use the Rings and force his mind onto someone. Well, Easy Tears was there and she immediately picked up on it and pretended to be under a spell from Trunk of Tree. It was all we could do not to crack up.”

“He must have been furious when he found out the two of you had tricked him. He can be a bit dangerous, you know.” 

“Yes, you are correct, Shadow. So you see, I gave him a way out. Easy Tears pretended that she and Trunk of Tree had pulled the trick on me. Of course, he knew that wasn’t true, but he had a publicly acknowledged way to save face. Do you think I did right to play that little game? I could not convince him, not from talking alone, just how the rings were meant to be used. He just had this idea stuck in his head that he could use them to control people. I had to disabuse him of that somehow. Do you think I did the right thing?” 

Shadow Walker stared for a long time into the deep, dark eyes of Many Paths. “You are really quite a woman. And quite a leader, Many Paths. We are lucky to have you. You did the right thing. I would never have thought of it.” After a pause, he added, “Is there anything else I should know about Trunk of Tree?”

“No, not really. We did have short stone skipping contest this morning.” Many Paths smiled. 

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“Oh, I can just imagine how that went! Does he know yet how outmatched he was?”

Many Paths and Shadow Walker laughed together and Many Paths shrugged and said, “I explained to him that preparation was important and that was why I needed his help in preparations. In that, I am quite serious. These killing sticks are no joke if they are as described by Eagle Eyes and Lion Slayer.”

“Killing Sticks!? What are you talking about? Spears? Staffs? What Killing Sticks?” 

Many Paths sighed. “I’m sorry. I somehow thought someone would have told you. You should ask Lion Slayer and Eagle Eyes, but basically, they saw someone point one of these long sticks at someone and then, without touching them, there was a flash of light, a loud crack, and the person began to bleed to death immediately.”

Shadow Walker frowned. “I don’t recall any odd looking sticks in the village of the ROI. The first time, it was dark and I was only interested in saving Tu-Swift. The second time, it was mostly charred rubble. Have you asked Tu-Swift though? He was there for some days.” 

“No, but I will; I have not yet really asked him anything. And now it is time for you two to share your stories with everyone. Let’s get down to the feast, Shadow. Can we announce to the tribe our betrothal?” 

Shadow Walker looked her in the eyes and kissed her gently on the lips. “Most certainly, Dear Leader, most certainly.” 

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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

The Orange Man

Table of Contents for Essays on America 

Index for a Pattern Language for Teamwork and Collaboration  

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

You Must Remember This

The Forest

The Jewels of November

The Walkabout Diaries: Sunsets

Travels with Sadie: Teamwork

The Silent Screams of Dead Men’s Dreams

Their Dead Shark Eyes

The “Not-See” Party

All We Stand to Lose

After All

We Won the War! We Won the War!

At Least He’s Our Monster

Imagine All the People

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. 

———————————————-

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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empathy, ethics, fantasy, fiction, leadership, legends, life, myths, peace, prophesy, psychology, Sci-Fi, songs, story, truth, Veritas, war, writing

“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.”

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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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America, Democracy, empathy, fantasy, fiction, leadership, legends, management, myths, politics, power, story, strategy, tactics, USA, Veritas, writing

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

 

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. 

silhouette of bird above clouds

Photo by Flo Maderebner on Pexels.com

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.” 

animal avian bald eagle beak

Photo by Anthony on Pexels.com

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.

selective focus photography of grilled corns

Photo by Engin Akyurt on Pexels.com

 

————————————————

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

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