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Myths of the Veritas: Inversnaid Revisited

16 Saturday May 2026

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

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Cupiditas, death, ego, family, fiction, greed, leadership, legends, life, myth, politics, Resistance, short story, story, stubbornness, truth, Veritas, writing

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Trunk of Tree led the small group through the fields of wildflowers buzzing with bees and up the grassy foothills that marked the edge of the lands the Veritas considered as home. Jaccim and Cat Eyes came next, each leading a pack horse. Cat Eyes discovered that she had a fondness for horses and, oddly enough, for Jaccim himself. Each day of the journey, Jaccim became more familiar with the Veritas language, thanks to tutoring by Cat Eyes. She spoke with Jaccim partly to learn more of his people, but this proved difficult. Jaccim had memorized a few verses that the Z-Lotz had insisted everyone learn, but he could not explain what the verses meant. 

In fact, Jaccim knew almost nothing about the history of his own people, nor how they came to be aligned with the Z-Lotz. Cat Eyes discovered that Jaccim had learned how to handle horses from his own father and uncle. He had ridden from an early age and had taken part in a number of different raids when he was younger — raids to steal children for the Z-Lotz. To her astonishment, Cat Eyes learned that Jaccim had never asked himself why they had been stealing children, or what was to become of the children once they were delivered to the Z-Lotz let alone how these cruel predations ravaged the children or their families. It was just what he was told to do so he did it. Cat Eyes sighed and shook her head. She considered trying to give some insight to Jaccim about what her life had been like but decided this was not the time. They were relying on Jaccim to find a path through to her homeland. If she were successful in having Jaccim see and feel just how reprehensible his actions had been, how might he react? She did not know; but she didn’t want to chance his bolting with the horses, which could have been one possible reaction. 

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Original drawing by Pierce Morgan

Sometimes, Jaccim was silent for long periods of time. Sometimes, Jaccim asked Trunk of Tree to stop for a moment. Jaccim would close his eyes, apparently in some sort of inner dialogue with himself. Then, he would open them and scan their surroundings. Then, he would point and nod. Trunk of Tree would continue down the path chosen. When Cat Eyes grew tired of her tutoring, she would drop back a few paces to chat with Lion Slayer and Hudah Salah. She had learned a few words of the language of the Nomads of the South when she was in the City of the Z-Lotz, but she was learning much more from them. In particular, she asked about various kinds of plants, animals, and physical features that she saw. When she learned a new word, she would store it in her head. She began to notice as the journey wore on that the words of the Nomads and the words of the Veritas and the words of the ROI and Z-Lotz, while all different, were not so different as they might have been. 

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At one point, their small group rested under a large, spreading oak which dominated a long slope of golden grass. Called “oak” in Veritas, the Z-Lotz word was “oag” and the Southern Nomads called it “oh-kah.” At first, Jaccim only referred to the tree in terms of the ROI expression: “hard to work wood tree”, but at last, he recalled that some called it “oat-tah.” While Cat Eyes carried on her linguistic queries, the rest of the group began to prepare a lunch. Jaccim tethered the horses to a low hanging branch. Fleet-of-Foot, who had been mainly walking with Easy Tears, jumped up and grabbed a branch, pulled himself up, and soon clambered to the crown. From here, hidden in the thick summer foliage, he peered around in all directions. He also cupped his hands around his ears while spreading his ears out slightly. Thus able to hear much fainter sounds, he slowly turned his head, listening as well as watching for any possible armies, game, or … what was that sound? As he turned toward the still-distant Twin Peaks, he heard a slight sound of … rushing water? It seemed to be coming from the nearby foothills. These hills were similar to the ones they had just left, but grew steeper and larger. Somewhere in those hills, fresh running water gurgled over rocks and sang its song loudly enough for him to hear from his high perch. Convinced that they were in no immediate danger, he climbed down to have his share of the lunch and told the group of his discovery. 

The next morning, after they climbed the top of a hill, they could all hear the roar of water and soon, they could see the sun glinting off the rushing water in the distance. Jaccim confirmed that long ago, the raiding party had also found this stream. It took most of the day to reach the water. The “stream” that Jaccim had mentioned was more properly called a river now. Cat Eyes pointed to the high peaks before them and, they were able to see tiny threads of silver cascading down the sides of the mountains. Some of that distant water would eventually find its way into this river, she reckoned. They refilled their water skins. As they sat around their small evening campfire telling their stories and making their plans, they were treated to a distant show of lighting and a reverberating thunder. The horses, despite being tethered near the coolly flowing water, paced nervously and nickered. 

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Trunk of Tree, who had grown weary of stories and plans at last said, “Let’s get to sleep. I’ll take the first watch. Then, Lion Slayer. Then, Fleet of Foot. We leave early in the morning.”

Jaccim shook his head, “We’re all tired. We have a long journey tomorrow. Many days after. We must move away from the river.” 

Trunk of Tree grunted. “Absurd. I’m in charge. This is a perfect spot. The horses can drink their fill. We cannot easily be seen. There is game. Sleep now. Walk in the morning.” 

Cat Eyes glanced at Jaccim. He was frowning. His mouth moved but no words came. She asked in ROI, “Why should we move, Jaccim.” 

Jaccim spoke quickly in ROI and supplemented his speech with sign language. “The rain on the mountain will melt more ice and bring much water. This water — or much of it — will come riding down the mountain like a herd of horses or buffalo and trample everything beneath it. We must move to higher ground or be trampled.” 

Cat Eyes translated for the group. 

Trunk of Tree held up his hand part-way through. “Absurd. No. We are safe here.” 

Cat Eyes could see that Trunk of Tree was “digging in” and ignoring the ideas of others. He was the sort of person, she saw, who found it particularly difficult to “change his mind” once he had made a decision. She shook her head and closed her eyes so that Trunk of Tree could not see her rolling them in disgust at his intransigence. 

Cat Eyes spoke in her softest, most enticing voice. “Trunk of Tree. You are our leader. I have no idea whether there is danger here. How can we know? But I do know something of the power of water. When we escaped from the war party that came to the burned village of the ROI, we rode hollowed logs. We almost went over a cliff but, thanks to luck, and Jaccim’s quick thinking, we were able to get to shore just in time. The logs were big, but when they went over the water cliff, those logs smashed onto rocks below as easily as I can break a twig — or, Trunk of Tree, in your case, as easily as you can break a large branch.” 

Trunk of Tree shook his head again. He looked at Lion Slayer. “Have you ever seen or heard of such a sudden river coming?” 

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Lion Slayer answered, “I have not seen such. We have too little water. In my life, I have never seen too much. But we do have stories about such. Too much water comes too quickly and kills plants, animals, and even strong trees, stout in trunk, have fallen, according to the stories. But no, I have not seen such myself.” 

“But I have. And, so too have you seen this, Trunk of Tree, or at least the aftermath.” It was the quiet clear voice of Easy Tears.

Trunk of Tree frowned at her. “What are you talking about?” 

Easy Tears smiled in the fading campfire light. “I am talking about the Battle of the Three Paths. Eagle Eyes devised a way to make much water come at once and washed away quite a few of the Cupiditas warriors. Some of the Veritas may have forgotten. Lion Slayer and Hudah Salah were not there, but you might remember, Trunk of Tree. Do you?” 

Trunk of Tree considered. “Maybe something. I was busy fighting. Perhaps. But I doubt it could have actually toppled the warriors. Not if they were strong.” 

Fleet of Foot nodded, “I saw it with my own eyes. It was something I will never forget. One minute a throng of Cupiditas soldiers were running across a shallow stream and suddenly the whole lot of them were knocked off their feet and taken away from us. Listen!” Fleet of Foot pointed upstream. The others turned and listened. In the quiet, they heard the horses whinnying but also stomping the ground and jerking at their tethers. 

Jaccim added, “Horses know danger. Horses know danger. Good ears!”  

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Cat Eyes cupped her hands behind her ears. “NOW! Move!” 

Trunk of Tree stood and threw his arms in the air and shouted, “This is ridiculous! Absurd! It’s only water! I don’t hear anything!” 

The others grabbed what they could and scrambled to higher ground. Jaccim however, went first to the horses, untied them and swung his leg up around one of them and grabbed hold of the other by the rope that necklaced the neck of the other. 

The voice of Cat Eyes rang out, “Trunk of Tree! Come! We need you to lead us! Don’t get swept away like the Stupiditas!” 

“I’m staying right here! You are all fools! I don’t….” 

The group had all climbed a nearby hill but there was no sign of Jaccim, Trunk of Tree, or the horses. Now, everyone could hear the roaring water bearing down on their location. Jaccim rode up astride the largest horse, still carrying water skins. He led another horse and across the back of that horse, Trunk of Tree lay senseless. 

Jaccim looked at Cat Eyes and shouted in ROI to be heard above the roar. “Sorry. I had to knock him out. For his own good. Will he try to kill me when he wakes?”  

Everyone now looked down at the valley right below them. In the dim light of the moon they could see, not a river, but a wall galloping down the valley. It was a wall not just of water but of ice and logs and mud and rocks as well! It destroyed everything in its path. 

Cat Eyes screamed back, “I won’t let him!” But she could barely hear her own voice. She wasn’t sure Jaccim could make out what she was saying. She used sign language to emphasize her promise of protection, but no-one was watching. All stared down below, mesmerized by the chaos beneath them. The riverbed swelled. The wall of water passed them and became a mere churning sea of blackish brown water swirling in the moonlight. 

Cat Eyes slowly shook her head and gritted her teeth. Trunk of Tree, their supposed “leader” of this expedition had almost gotten the whole lot of them killed. And why, she wondered. The answer came to her unbidden. His pride, she thought. His stupid pride. He made up his mind without knowing the facts. Then, when he heard the facts, he refused to listen. As though his ignorance was somehow better than facts. And that ignorance and vainglorious vanity had almost destroyed all of them and instead of connecting with her people, his stupidity has nearly cost them … the Veritas might not have ever found out what had happened to them. She might never have seen Tu-Swift or Many Paths ever again. And the Veritas would have to face the Z-Lotz with seven fewer warriors and without the horses and without the knowledge to be gained by connected with the Veritas beyond the Twin Peaks. 

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She considered killing Trunk of Tree herself. It would be easy enough to do while he was unconscious. She knew exactly where to press hard on his neck. It had worked on one of her worst tormentors in the Z-Lotz village. She had gotten away with that because that monster, known as M-M-M, was old and terribly fat and unfit. Everyone had dismissed his death as natural. She had left no marks on his body. And she had even pretended to grieve for him … as though she had been desirous of the attentions of that cruel monster man. But no-one would believe someone as strong and fit and young as Trunk of Tree died in his sleep. If anything, they would blame Jaccim for hitting him too hard on the head in order to knock him out. It would be seen as accidental but — they were arguing right before. Too risky, perhaps. But how else to take down a leader who nearly led his own expedition to death for no reason, other than his own stupid pride at being unwilling to admit his own ignorance? Disgusting. 

Trunk of Tree’s idea of “leadership” was to impose his will on others. Wasn’t that exactly the same as old M-M-M — imposing his will on her? His pleasure had seemed to come, not from the sex itself really, but from making her engage in sex against her own will. She saw Trunk of Tree as nothing more than a younger version of M-M-M and she desperately wanted to kill him in his sleep. Once he awoke, it would be much more dangerous. But it was also dangerous to let him stay their leader. Why had Many Paths even chosen him to “lead” this expedition. She must have known what kind of a person he was. Leader! Hah! 

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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  

Inversnaid (poem by Gerald Manly Hopkins)

Essays on America: Wednesday

Labelism

Where Does Your Loyalty Lie?

You Bet Your Life

The Ailing King of Agitate

D4: Dictator’s Disease

 

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. 

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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 Shiny Things

13 Wednesday May 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, family, management, politics, Uncategorized

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art, books, fiction, leadership, legends, life, myths, peace, photography, politics, stories, story, tales, Travel, truth, Veritas, war, weapons, writing

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The days continued to lengthen. The herbs and dyes had been collected and prepared. Masks had been constructed for everyone in the tribe old enough to talk and walk. After considerable dialog, the tribe concluded that all of the Veritas, and not just the young adults needed to be initiated into the ways of the warrior. Although kids had often spontaneously imitated the actions of their older brothers and sisters and engaged in mock combat, now the Veritas faced an enemy who stole children. If such children were snatched, it was important that they be able to fight, in order to delay capture, and to maim or injure the attackers. They must also be able to lie in wait patiently and be able to strike after capture; to see when the opportunity arose; and then to strike in such a way that they had little chance of being blamed. 

Jaccim had confirmed that the Z-Lotz greatly preferred to steal children. Kids could be trained early to be docile slaves. Occasionally, attractive full-grown women would be stolen as well but they tended to be less docile and therefore less desirable to the Z-Lotz. Many Paths had already performed the molting ritual on Tu-Swift and he had worked with Sooz and Cat Eyes to teach the youngsters of the tribe to fight. This training had been mostly about perception and reaction. Now, the training would turn more serious and young children were about to be taught about weapons, hand combat, and about poisons and imagination. 

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Many Paths wanted the children to be initiated and wear make up and masks so that when and if the Veritas found themselves once more at peace, they could remove these masks and make up and that removal of the outward trappings of war would hopefully help also remove the killing mindset that she meant to help inculcate into everyone in the tribe. 

A great feast of wild boar, honeyed grain-cakes, roasted nuts, and boiled cattail had been laid out in the late afternoon. After the feast, the Veritas came to Many Paths one by one, oldest to youngest and stood before her. She handed each one a mask and anointed each with two dark marks of charcoal on their cheeks. The masks resembled various animals and were worn on the back of the head or, more rarely, on the side of the head. They were not meant to disguise the person’s face. Instead, the masks were intended to confuse the enemy about the orientation of the Veritas warrior so that killing blows would tend to arise from unsuspected places. 

The Veritas came to her in order from oldest to youngest. Though Many Paths followed tradition in this, she could see the wisdom of that tradition. The youngest would have seen many examples of how to behave from the elders and then the adults and then their older brothers and sisters. She felt and displayed a fittingly somber mood for the business at hand weighed heavily upon her. And though she intoned the ritual words with feeling, at the same time, half of her mind began to mull on the situation that required turning the people to killing. She heartily wished that the world had not turned so ugly and warlike. Yet, those wishes had no impact on reality. Many Paths did promise herself that she would continue to remind people of the lessons learned from The Battle of the Three Paths. 

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In that battle, NUT-PI had arranged three armies to fight against the Veritas. Two of those armies had instead become friends. Peace proved to be a very strong weapon. Many Paths would come to caution the Veritas not to become so enamored of weapons that they overlooked the possible paths to peace. Though she believed this, Many Paths also recognized that the alliances between the Cupiditas and the Nomads of the South and between the Cupiditas and the Fierce and Formidable Warriors of the North were both tenuous and temporary. They did not have a preponderance of true common interests.

This shallowness had made rational dialogue possible between Many Paths and those tribes.  Their “loyalty” to NUT-PI was nothing more than a temporary convenience, fairly easily overcome by showing them the lies of NUT-PI and a path to a more permanent self-interest. Also, no blood had yet been spilled. Once blood had been spilled on both sides, talk of peace could easily be shouted out by the drums of war that banged in the heart of every warrior amplified by sorrow, fear, and anger. Many Paths reminded herself that she needed to have a frank talk with Lion Slayer about whether any from among the Nomads of the South would choose to fight with the Veritas. 

She decided to wait a few more days for such a conversation and to include his mate, Hudah Salah, as well. When they had first arrived to spend a year with the Veritas, Hudah had seemed unwilling to say much and agreed with her husband on every point. Something had changed however. Many Paths thought there were three reasons. First, she had become much more familiar with the Veritas language. Second, she now had many actual friends now among the Veritas including Fleet of Foot and Eagle Eyes. Although those were still her closest friends, she knew everyone in the tribe and everyone knew her. Third, the great fire had separated her for a time from her husband and she had had to survive without him, without knowing whether he was alive or dead. Many Paths judged that his deepened their love but also grew her independence. Many Paths also thought that Lion Slayer would be more likely to imagine everyone among the Nomads of the South would feel however he felt. Hudah Salah, would be more in tune with the heart of the entire tribe. She would not unthinkingly imagine that all of them would be as eager or reluctant to join in a lethal fight as she herself was. 

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The “coming to war” ritual ended with a long, energetic dance. This served to burn off some of the nervous energy that naturally arose from everyone in the tribe preparing for war. It also served to remind each person among the Veritas that they were part of a larger whole. Everyone participated including Many Paths and She Who Saves Many Lives. Though the latter was not so quick as she had once been, she moved with a grace and beauty that caused many in the tribe to smile. Long energetic dances also served as a training for long marches or fierce battles. Everyone took note of everyone else so they came to expect the tempo and style of everyone else in the tribe. This, Many Paths realized, could be quite helpful in coordinated group action. Everyone could see, for example, that Shadow Walker’s ankle was completely healed while Tu-Swift had still not recovered his former speed. A lot of information was exchanged about individuals at the same time and that caused each individual to feel more integrated into the whole. It occurred to Many Paths that some such a dance should be repeated with whomever joined in the Veritas endeavor, whether the Veritas who lived beyond the Twin Mountains or the Nomads of the South. The dance also tended to physically exhaust everyone and, as a steady wind bends the long grass, it would bend everyone toward much needed sleep rather than useless worry. 

The next day began bright and clear. Many Paths met early with Tu-Swift, Eagle Eyes, Cat Eyes, Sooz, and Shadow Walker. She began by describing her experiment with reflections that had caused a twig to burst into flames. Using the Rings of Empathy and many pieces of mica, she arranged the reflections so that they all focused on a small dried twig. Again, it seemed as though nothing was happening when suddenly the twig burst into flames. Salah Hudah had been weaving nearby, not participating in the conversation. But when she saw the twig burst into flames, she exclaimed something aloud in her native tongue. She walked over to the group and spoke in Veritas nearly as well as those who were born Veritas might. 

“These things,” she gestured around at the rings and mica, “are all shiny. Very shiny. We have in our land some shiny things as well. There is a shiny black stone which can be polished so much that you can see yourself as if looking in a clear, calm, lake. We call it ‘OB-ESS-DIAN.” And, there is another thing on the edge of the deep desert lands where no-one goes. It is also shiny. Very shiny. We polish it. We shape it. But it is evil. We call it GLAZ. Those who touch it get burned. We only discovered a few winters ago. We thought to make jewelry or … a kind of pond to look at yourself. I think it could be useful weapon this way too. But dangerous. It burns the hands as though you were too long in the sun. But it is not hot.”  

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Many Paths thanked Salah Hudah and contemplated once again how much better it was to have made friends with the Nomads of the South rather than fighting them. She vowed to try to find such a way even with the People Who Steal Children. But such people killed with no honor. With Killing Sticks. How could peace come about? It was a puzzle: an important one, but seemingly unsolvable. 

Tu-Swift brought out his sword and moved it about. “This is very shiny too. As is Shadow Walker’s. I think…here’s let’s try making both of them shine onto a twig.” Shadow Walker worked with Tu-Swift and they reflected the sunbeams from their sword onto another dry twig. It did not burst into flames. They waited. At last, Cat Eyes stretched forth her hand and gingerly touched the twig.

“It’s warmer than just the sun would do, but not warm enough to burst into flame. But something else might work very well. In the village of the Z-Lotz, many of the richest families have such a portable pond looker as Salah Hudah described. But no-one I heard of got burned from it. So, perhaps it is made of something different. I don’t know.” 

“Thank you, Cat Eyes. How many of these portable lookers are there in the whole of the  Z-Lotz village?” 

Cat Eyes sighed. “I was there as a slave. So, I was unable to go wherever I liked. There are many people. Sometimes, I visited other houses. All of them had such things. But I seldom went to small houses. I would say, these many. But I really don’t know.” Cat Eyes held up both hands ten times; each time, all fingers were splayed out. “One hundred.” 

Many Paths nodded. “One hundred. Yet, so few as ten pieces of mica, and seven shiny stones can make a dry piece of wood burst into flame. Imagine what one hundred shiny things might do if all the many paths of light come together at one time and place.” 

Shadow Walker said, “That, I think, would be very hot indeed. However, we don’t own those possible weapons. I don’t see how we can get them. But what of the shiny things of the Nomads of the South? How many of those are there, Salah?” 

“Of the black OB-ESS-DIAN, there are many. Ten times ten. Of the clear ones… there may be one or two, but to my knowledge, once people realized they caused burns, no-one wanted them. People gave them back to the deep desert.”

The group thought about that for a time. Presently, Tu-Swift said, “I don’t understand. Why don’t they just use a long handle or many layers of cloth to protect their hands? Surely, you tried this, Salah?” 

“Tu-Swift, you speak true. People did try this. We sometimes make even stones by hardening mud in fire. They become quite hard. But when they are first made by such hot fire, the stones themselves are too hot to touch. However, we take them out of the oven with large mittens made of many layers. People’s hands do not get burned. But there is something different about GLAZ. Many layers of cloth do not prevent burns though the GLAZ is not itself hot. It seems magic but evil. That’s why we returned it to the deep desert where no-one goes.”  

Cat Eyes began to speak. “Fire ants feel like burning when they bite you. But they are not themselves hot. Their tiny side teeth pierce your skin. Perhaps such ants are made of the same stuff as the GLAZ at the edge of the desert.”

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Salah Hudah nodded. “Perhaps. We know also of these fire ants. They sting. They feel hot. But people recover. The burns of GLAZ do not get better. More moons, more pain. They are something from a world of evil. I think the people, my people,…maybe they lend you or trade you for OB-ESS-DIAN. But all this to set a fire? Isn’t it easier to use fire arrows?” 

Shadow Walker spoke next. “We should not forget what happened to the ROI. They used fire arrows against us twice. The first time, they surprised us. It helped them steal Tu-Swift. But the second time, they tried to destroy us, and they succeeded in destroying their own village and many of their people. According to Jaccim, the ROI were led by a cruel lying leader, and then, so far as we can tell, he was killed himself. I don’t much like fire arrows. But it’s better to use them than to become enslaved.” 

Tu-swift added thoughtfully, “Perhaps we can get the Z-Lotz themselves to destroy their leader. He seems very cruel.” 

Cat Eyes scrunched her face up and chewed her lips. “Perhaps. The people I stayed with, the richest among the Z-Lotz privately scoffed at NUT-PI — just as they did about their beliefs — but, because they are rich, they like having NUT-PI as a leader, if you can call him that. No doubt, there are many people in the village of the Z-Lotz who would like to have NUT-PI gone, but I’m not sure they are prosperous enough to have — I think they are called ‘looking glasses.’ Does that make sense? I think only the rich people like them.”

Many Paths nodded. “I’m not sure. If it is as you say, then the rich would have to have very good reason to use this weapon of many looking glasses against NUT-PI. But there could be other ways to bring many weapons to bear through many paths. For instance, arrows, even if not fire arrows, could be fired from many directions at once. Rocks could be thrown from many directions. Small amounts of many poisons might be given. And, maybe we could use mica and jewels to make many reflections to heat up … to heat up a Killing Stick until it catches fire. Or, perhaps, we could even use the killing GLAZ. If NUT-PI thought it was very rare, and very precious, he might desire much of it. If he surrounds himself with such GLAZ, he might get quite sick and not know why.” 

Eagle Eyes had been fairly silent and now began to draw a map of sorts in the dirt. “All of these weapons we are discussing converge from many paths on to one place; for example, NUT-PI. But if we were to kill the Z-Lotz leader, wouldn’t they simply pick a new leader?”

Many Paths said, “It might take them some time. As I best understand it, if one of the Cupiditas kills the leader, then that person becomes the new leader. I don’t know about the Z-Lotz though. If they do the same, it might be confusing if many people at once killed the old leader. Who would get to be the new leader?” 

Cat Eyes said, “I am not sure, but I think the Z-Lotz might do something similar. It might be confusing for them if many people together killed their leader. He is a very loud screamer, but I don’t think he’s very brave. I’m not sure why I think that. Anyway, he’s not very athletic. He looks nothing like Shadow Walker or Trunk of Tree, for instance.” She smiled at Tu-Swift. “Honestly, Tu-Swift, in a fair fight, I think you could take him. But I don’t think a fair fight is of any interest to him.” 

Tu-Swift blushed. “I would love to do that if he’s behind the stealing of children.” 

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Many Paths spoke again. “We have many ideas. Which path proves most fruitful though will remain a mystery until we find out more. I think that the construction of a good weapon that will be effective depends on knowing more. We need to find out more. How are their walls constructed? Can we tunnel under them to sneak in? Can we dig under them to cause collapse? Are the walls too high to fire arrows over? Rocks? Should we attack with many? Or, should we sneak in a few? Can we steal enough of these looking glasses to make a weapon? Can we steal their killing sticks? More swords? Can we sabotage their bows and arrows as Tu-Swift did to the ROI? And, how can we use our horses? Will they join us in this fight?” 

Shadow Walker took a deep breath, “Many, I think I should go visit these Z-Lotz. Maybe I could trade with them and get some Killing Sticks in this way. We have many fine and beautiful baskets. And, Salah Hudah, do you think these shiny things that cause burns can be recovered or — ?”

Salah Hudah shook her head violently. “I don’t think you should touch them. I don’t think you’ll find them — at least not easily. Our people just wanted to get rid of them. They are covered up now with shifting of many sands. But they burn without warning. And worse. One woman who especially liked these. She was very beautiful. She had many suitors who brought her such as treasures. She paid much. She became something else. Her body began to grow like mushrooms. No longer beautiful. And, she was sick in every way. And died. That is what triggered everyone to throw them out.” 

“I should go with you,” volunteered Eagle Eyes. I can see danger before danger sees us. And I have been there before. “What of you, Cat Eyes? You know this place better than anyone else? Will you come too?” 

Cat Eyes nodded. “I will go. I like this place much better. Much better. But perhaps it would be well for me to go first to my people. Some may recognize me. I may recognize them. I can be…I can be like a pair of logs over the brook and allow others to cross. Perhaps the Veritas over the Twin Mountains will have other weapons or other knowledge. Then, we can decide what to do about the Z-Lotz. It is also possible they might leave us alone?” 

“I hope that,” said Many Paths. “Why must people steal children? But I don’t think they will leave us alone. I do not think they will leave the Nomads of the South alone either. Nor, the Fierce and Formidable Warriors of the North. Nor anyone who simply wants to live in peace. If I thought otherwise, we would not have all sworn to the way of the warrior. But that does not mean we must attack at once. More knowledge would be good. Let us first try to reach the Veritas beyond the Twin Peaks. Jaccim knows how to find a path there, so he thinks. 

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“Meanwhile, we will grow stronger and faster and learn the skills of killing in case we need such skills. We will continue to train even the smallest among us so that if any such are captured, they will be weapons; unsuspected weapons like Cat Eyes.” 

Now, Eagle Eyes spoke, “You are wise, Many Paths. I have a thought though about yet another weapon.” 

“We have trained a few from among the Wolf Pups. And, we have trained few from among the Eagles. What if … you know that I can draw a likeness of any of you and that you will know who that likeness is. Eagles have eyes even better than ours. I am wondering whether it is not possible … perhaps if I can see the Z-Lotz leader, I can teach my eagles, and more eagles besides, to attack this hateful man and pluck his eyes out. Could it be possible? I don’t know. And for Wolves the same. Except they do not see as well as do we ourselves. But each person smells different. If someone can steal some of his clothing, perhaps such pups could be trained to attack and kill something that smells of him.”

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Many Paths smiled at her friend. For the first time since she found out about the Killing Sticks, she felt confident that there was a way to prevail against such a weapon and that they would find it. And use it. “Those are excellent ideas, Eagle Eyes.” 

Everyone in the group nodded. 

Many Paths spoke again, and her voice sounded clear and confident, “I promise you, we will not rest until we find a lasting and believable peace with these Z-Lotz. Or, we will destroy their leader. If that doesn’t stop them from stealing children, we will destroy the next leader. And the next. At last, everyone shall also be destroyed and all of their Killing Sticks — until they stop stealing children.” 

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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  

Travels with Sadie Teamwork

The Walkabout Diaries Lest We Forget

We Won the War! We Won the War!

Love and Guns

 

    

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 Knows the Way

01 Friday May 2026

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

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communiation, cooperation, Democracy, dialogue, diversity, fantasy, fiction, leadership, legends, life, myths, peace, politics, problem solving, sense making, short story, stories, strategy, tactics, tales, truth, Veritas, war, writing

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Among the several dialogues brought on by recent revelations — Killing Sticks, Walled City, Tamed Horses, and Drawings that Talk — the one that Tu-Swift invariably participated in dealt with Other Veritas. Tu-Swift did find the topic itself of considerable interest but his main motivation was that he would see, and sit beside, Cat Eyes. 

Cat Eyes seemed to him exotic, not just because of her amazing eyes, but also because she had lived in such different circumstances from most of the people he knew. He found the other two ROI women someone exotic too, but it was slow work understanding each other and they just never held the magic that he felt for Cat Eyes.

Tu-Swift and Cat Eyes also shared a life-altering experience that Tu-Swift’s other friends could not really fathom — being torn from family and thrown into a small box. They were both forced to do something for others. Though they had both hated that, they both learned something as well. Tu-Swift had learned much about horses and he had freely told his tale to the Veritas and answered all the questions that anyone asked him: Sooz, Cat Eyes, Many Paths  — he would tell anyone who asked. In fact, he rather enjoyed the attention. 

Cat Eyes had learned something about this strange new way of communicating using the “Drawings that Talk” and they were working together to understand the small bit of such drawings that they had. But when Tu-Swift asked her mundane and seemingly easy questions about her time with the Z-Lotz, she would often get a faraway look in her eyes, say something vague and then ask him another question. It piqued his curiosity because she recalled some things in extreme detail such as the very large dwelling within the Walled City where she lived for several years. But when he asked her whether she had her own partition, she claimed she couldn’t recall. 

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Tu-Swift found himself slightly suspicious. If she wasn’t being honest about her memory, maybe she just made up the tale of the other tribe of Veritas. Yet, he felt sure that story was true. He wanted to go on an expedition to see such for himself. 

Many children, having been stolen from their own tribe would become fearful and timid. Tu-Swift however, perhaps because he had an active role in his own escape, felt as though he desperately needed to learn more about the world. If there were things such as People Who Steal Children, and Killing Sticks — things that could tear his family apart and tear his tribe apart — things that he had never known about, he wanted to learn as much as possible about as many things as possible. And the Veritas over the Twin Peaks intrigued him. Perhaps they also had Killing Sticks — or even more powerful weapons. Or, yet another way of communicating. 

In wanting to learn more about the Veritas of Cat Eyes, Tu-Swift was hardly alone. As the tribe discussed trying to reconnect with this lost tribe, nearly everyone wanted to do it, but they were also much moved by the words of Cat Eyes who had described that people had died in the past trying to find their way back. Though abducted young, Cat Eyes was sure that she had not been taken over this melting glacier. She had been strapped on the back of a horse and had caught random glimpses of woods and fields. From the tale of Shadow Walker, as confirmed by his companions, the People Who Steal Children are exceptionally bad at hiding their tracks. That makes for a curious dilemma. Why did these Veritas not try to find Cat Eyes when she was stolen? 

It was argued that, of course, such a rescue party — perhaps several — may have followed them and fallen into a trap. Cat Eyes had no way to know. They could not solve the mysteries until they had a chance to dialogue with these Veritas of the mountain, but no-one could find a good plan to get there. Essentially, the same dozen people had met three times and talked themselves in the same circles. 

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Now, they sat for a time in reflective silence. While in silence, Jaccim approached their circle and caught the eye of Tu-Swift. Jaccim gestured for him to come over. Tu-Swift glanced at Cat Eyes and wordlessly asked her to accompany him. Jaccim and Tu-Swift could each make themselves understood to the other, but it took time. It would be more efficient with Cat Eyes there to translate. Jaccim realized, of course, that Tu-Swift was no longer his captive. In many ways, their roles were reversed though Jaccim was free to roam among the Veritas. Tu-Swift was working with Jaccim to construct a suitable place for their horses. Besides the mare & colt that had come with them, another stallion and a mare had found their way to the Veritas. Jaccim had reached the point in training where he could use Tu-Swift who seemed to have an innate talent for rapprochement with the creatures. 

The last thing he wanted to do was to impose on Tu-Swift which would remind Tu-Swift and possibly others that Jaccim was of the People Who Steal Children. He never thought of himself that way but he understood others might. He’d rather be known as someone who could make a contribution. Jaccim therefore asked if they were done with their dialogue for now. He observed nothing was being said. Times of silent reflection were not common among the ROI so he assumed that they were likely “done” but he did not want to be disrespectful of their ways.

Cat Eyes explained to Jaccim the dilemma that they had been discussing and explained that they were thinking silently of how to communicate or reach the Veritas by the Twin Peaks. Jaccim frowned and said, in ROI, “Why not just take the path the ROI take? We could go there on horses once these are trained in a few weeks. We wouldn’t have to steal children.” 

Instead of translating into Veritas forTu-Swift’s benefit, Cat Eyes began having an excited conversation with Jaccim in ROI. At last, Cat Eyes told Tu-Swift the good news. Then, she grabbed Jaccim by the arm and brought him into the circle. She explained to everyone that this man knew a way to ride horses into the land of the Veritas who lived near the Twin Peaks. She might find her home or she might find only an empty place, once lived in, but now deserted. 

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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 Do You Draw the Line?

The Orange Man

The Forgotten Field

Tools of Thought: Many Paths

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

The Silent Screams of Dead Men’s Dreams

We Won the War! We Won the War!

Who Won the War?

After All

The Crows and Me

Roar, Ocean, Roar!

The Isle of Right

The Dance of Billions

The Walkabout Diaries: Mindwalk

Travels with Sadie: Taking Turns

Bohm Dialogue

 

  

Tu-Swift Tells his Tale

27 Monday Apr 2026

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Original drawing by Pierce Morgan

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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——————————————-

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Start of the Second Book of the Myths of the Veritas

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Table of Contents for Essays on America 

Index for a Pattern Language for Teamwork and Collaboration  

The Walkabout Diaries

Travels with Sadie

Plans for US; Some GRUesome

Labelism

The Game

Wednesday

Where Does Your Loyalty Lie?

Roar, Ocean, Roar! 

The Dance of Billions

 

Love’s Afterglow

26 Sunday Apr 2026

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

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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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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

 

A Map, of Sorts

24 Friday Apr 2026

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

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After Shadow Walker and Tu-Swift had been embraced by all of the Veritas, including Trunk of Tree, they had a chance to circle back to Many Paths, who continued to shower them with affection. Their entire party, including Cats Eyes, the ROI, and the two horses all served as sources of amazement. 

Jaccim and Tu-Swift cautioned people to stay well back from the horses. Even the colt could deliver a serious kick or bite if terror overcame them. Trunk of Tree had followed Many Paths out of the village and had greeted Shadow Walker and Tu-Swift warmly. He quickly understood that he could help by keeping people at a distance from the horses, so he did. 

The Veritas asked more questions than anyone could answer. At last, Many Paths spoke in a loud, clear bell of a voice. 

“We all rejoice in the return of our excellent comrades, Shadow Walker and Tu-Swift. We will hear their tale, as they must hear ours. Such recounting is best done from beginning to end, carefully, and not in answer to a bee swarm of questions. You all know why this is. One must plant the seed in the proper season, let it grow in the proper season; harvest in the proper season. If one is pressed to answer questions out of order, here and there, scattered like dandelion seeds blowing this way and that, one may answer so as to make a good story for the conversation, rather than answering for an accurate reconstruction. 

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“Like you, I am impatient to learn more. And, there is much to learn. But we do not want to corrupt such lessons. After our evening meal, we will hear the tale of how Tu-Swift became not so Swift and of how Shadow Walker became Shadow Limper.”

Titters of laughter broke out among her appreciative crowd.  

“But for now,” she continued, as she held aloft her hands sporting all seven Rings of Empathy, “these rings tell me that I must interrogate Shadow Walker alone for a time, concerning a private matter.” 

Many Paths took Shadow Walker’s hand and she pulled him toward her dwelling. Many of the adults in the tribe chuckled for all knew exactly what kind of “interrogation” Many Paths had in mind. The children of the tribe knew or felt that the words of Many Paths showed one meaning but something else was hidden beneath. They sensed that both from the countenance of Many Paths herself and from the reactions of the adults. What that underneath meaning was, the children, for the most part, could not guess. In any case, they were more fascinated by the odd way that the strangers spoke, the scarred face of Jaccim, by the Irises of Cats Eyes, and the sheer size of the mare. 

Many Paths had fantasized about her next meeting with Shadow Walker on multiple occasions during his absence. They all began with a sudden and violent animal coupling. That fantasy had seemed so real. But in the moment of their actual being alone and lying beside each other at last, she first wanted to drink him in through all her senses, perhaps to convince herself that they shared this here, this now, this moment, and now this moment and yet another. 

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Many Paths, both by natural bent and by training, had lived a life of conscious gratitude. She felt gratitude for the sunrise: its beautiful variety; it’s promise of a new day. She felt gratitude for being alive as she woke; and for the life all around her; for her ancestors. She felt gratitude for being able to relieve herself and for feeling the cold of the morning. She felt likewise gratitude for the sun setting and the warmth of the campfire and for its constant, random flickering. She felt gratitude for her memories and her hands and her skills. 

These were all child’s play — practice sessions, in a way — for the gratitude she felt now that he — Shadow Walker — had returned, alive and whole. Look! Here was another moment of his being real, of his being alive!

Now, they each had much to tell each other. Many Paths had not yet decided how to bring up the several instances in which Trunk of Tree had tried to undermine her authority or convince her they should join forces and “lead together.” Of course, he would have to be told, and soon, but she had to think carefully about exactly how to do that.  

“I am so happy to see you, you cannot imagine,” she began. “And so thankful you found Tu-Swift.”

“Oh, Many Paths, I can imagine because I am so glad as well.”

“Shadow, I really don’t want to spoil your memory, but at least tell me whether you are all right — and Tu-Swift. And who are these people? Did you ever find out why they steal children? How did you find Tu-Swift?” 

“I am glad to see you still have patience enough to wait,” chuckled Shadow Walker.

Many Paths laughed too. “You are right. I’m sorry. But are you both all right? And what is … never mind. All you all right?”

“At one point, we had to run flat out through smoke to escape fire. We all became separated. I turned my ankle and it’s almost healed. I think it would have now been fine except that we had to keep hiking despite any injury. There are so many things to tell, but anyway, Tu-Swift really hurt his knee for the same reason. But his injury — I am not sure whether he will ever heal completely. I guess we will know in time.”

“Thank you, Shadow. Maybe you could give me the outline of the journey you took and you can later relate the story in detail tonight.”

“All right, Many Paths, I shall. Of course, it would be very helpful to have a map of the region.” Shadow Walker gave her a sly smile.

Many Paths’ eyes brightened. “Oh, I have a map if that will help!” She began to rise. 

Shadow Walker put his arm out. “No, no. Your map won’t do. We went beyond your map. But I just need something to frame my story. It doesn’t need to be detailed. This will do for my map.” As he said the word ‘this’ he motioned to the body of Many Paths. 

Shadow Walker began to tell his tale: how they had all been together and how they had followed a trail that was as loud as a thunderstorm. He described the strange door that they had come to, made of something cold, hard and smooth. (He unclasped her belt and slid it aside to dramatize the moment). 

He described how they had rescued Tu-Swift and how he had helped with his own rescue by damaging the weapons of the ROI. He recounted how they had been attacked with fire arrows. (And, he illustrated this by a rain of his fingers landing very gently over her body and sliding away downhill like raindrops or tongues of fire). 

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And he told how that fire had split apart their party. (He gently parted her lips with his own to illustrate the point more vividly). 

He showed her how the flames spread over the hillside and engulfed the ROI village. (Because it was important for the Leader of the Veritas to remember this, he illustrated by rubbing his hands together to warm them and showed her how flames may climb gently but sometimes land on another spot to make a fire).

He spoke of his running headlong to escape the flames uphill and downhill. (He demonstrated by gently tracing the contours of her body). 

He told of his indecision when he woke up all alone about where to go next.  

Many Paths sighed and said softly but firmly, “I know exactly where you should go next.”

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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 

An Essay on Gratitude

Index for a Pattern Language for Teamwork and Collaboration

The Impossible

Where Does Your Loyalty Lie?

Plans for US; some GRUesome

Ramming your Head Into a Brick Wall

Donnie the Promiser

After All

All We Stand to Lose

The Dance of Billions

Dialog: Killing Sticks

20 Monday Apr 2026

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

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As was traditional among the Veritas, before beginning the delving into such a troublesome topic as how to make sense of killing sticks, they sang their songs of the origins of the Veritas. They sang a song about their daily life and another about the dangers of greed and lying (taken from their story, “The Orange Man.”) Lastly, they ended with a song about the forgotten fields. 

These elements were traditional, but Many Paths opted to push their common ground even further because she knew this could be a very divisive topic. She intuited this partly from overhearing snippets of conversations as she passed by. She saw the puzzlement and concern on everyone’s face now. And, she reckoned that the idea of a weapon that kills so quickly quite reasonably caused much anxiety. When people were anxious they often shied away from the truth and from exploring many paths before running down one. She didn’t expect everyone to think of as many branches as she did, but she hoped they wouldn’t sprint thoughtlessly down the first path they spied. 

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“If you will indulge me, I would like us to recount for a few moments, our successes in the Battle of the Three Forks. I do this for two reasons. I recount this victory because it will remind us of our ability to work together and our creativity because in that battle, we used many weapons that some among us invented. Eagle Eyes, as you may recall, invented the slippery slope after watching the ant lion; she also trained the Eagle to protect her and found a way to divert the river. And what was our greatest weapon of all?” 

“Arrows well-aimed.” someone shouted. 

“Well, those are vital and we have some exceptionally good archers here.” In the mental screen of Many Paths, the image of Shadow Walker drawing a bow sprang to mind. She missed him all the time in the form of a dull ache, but seeing him so vividly in her mind’s eye sharpened the pain as a hot pepper may do to a toothache. She drew a curtain over that image and continued. “I suspect our greatest weapons were being patient and trying to understand our enemies. As a result, two of those so-called enemies were not even actual enemies. In the case of the Nomads of the South, we have formed friendships and exchanged goods to both of our benefits. I recount this tale because it is natural to fear a new weapon that we do not understand. It is wise to dialogue this. Let us do so thinking with our whole brain. Do not become panicked. We have long survived and we will survive long after. So — open your hearts and open your minds. What do we make of these killing sticks?” 

Trunk of Tree, being Trunk of Tree, immediately took a stand against the legitimacy of the question. “Before we go any further, I’d like to say our first step should be to verify this rather preposterous story with another witness.” 

“You do have another witness,” said Lion Slayer. “Me. I was there as well. We both saw and heard the same things. We surely were not struck by the same hallucination at the same time.”

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“There might be many ways for an illusion to occur. I do not fault you, but I am willing to lead another expedition to observe — and even steal this killing stick.” 

Lion Slayer slowly shook his head. “ I do agree, that it would be good to find out more, but it will take at least a week. And, once you are there…it is huge beyond your imaginings. In fact, we would have been captured several times except that Eagle Eyes really is just that. But there are at least 100 times as many people there as we have Veritas. We saw what we saw and we came back here without being seen or caught. 

Eagle Eyes spoke up, “Lion Slayer’s right.” If you went back again to get an unnecessary verification, that person could be caught. That is not only a danger to the brave persons who would attempt to witness another such use; it is a danger to the whole tribe. If such a one were seen, these Z-Lotz would know that we know about these killing sticks. This may well hasten an attack as they would wish to do so before we learn how to make such weapons or defend against them. And, if such a one were caught, they would surely be tortured for information. Perhaps they would successfully resist or mislead but if they have a weapon such as this, who knows what kinds of torture they might have?”

In the Veritas form of dialogue, it was not necessary, particularly at the beginning to answer point with counterpoint. People just shared their thoughts and experiences. The Veritas actually listened to all of those who had spoken so far. There was a silence as the sun set in violent crimson and the roaring fire began to look brighter with the setting sun. 

Hudah Salem said, “I say to you that the Nomads of the south also think it good that we did not fight. It was not our fight. This now, we know more about the Z-Lotz and Nut-Pi. This now, we are happier still not to fight you.” 

Many Paths nodded. “So far, the strongest weapon we have found is not a weapon at all, but finding common cause so as not to fight at all.” 

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Trunk of Tree spoke again, “But imagine that the Nomads of the South had had such killing sticks, assuming they do exist. They may have been less reluctant to kill if it were so easy and so risk-free for them.”

A long silence ensued. The Veritas tried to imagine how having — or not having — an easier, more risk-free way to kill might or might not influence their actions and decisions. 

At last, Many Paths spoke. She realized that Trunk of Tree was likely using the dialogue as a way to demonstrate his wisdom and power. Nonetheless, it was more important, so she thought at the time, to seek the truth. “I believe you may be correct, Trunk of Tree. I would add that how much such killing sticks would encourage or deter going to war would depend on how a particular tribe thinks about life and how they reward their warriors and on what basis. All of these considerations must also be in our calculations as well. Eagle Eyes and Lion Slayer, I have a question, perhaps on the minds of many. In this meeting you witnessed, suppose that the leader of the Z-Lotz had not had a weapon of any kind. Would he have prevailed over these other men in any case?

Lion Slayer shook his head. “We cannot tell. We did not get a good look. Neither man seemed particularly — neither of them looked like Trunk of Tree. The one called Nut-Pi was a slight man, not young, but neither was he old. The first two he killed looked to be able-bodied warriors. The last man killed, the one he tortured, was portly. In a fight without weapons — who knows? We could not judge their skills.” 

Eagle Eyes spoke next. “As Lion Slayer said, we did not have a chance to see the war skills of either. I can say with certainty that both Nut-Pi and the man we think was leader of the People who Steal Children were cowards. Neither one was as brave as are our warriors.” 

Trunk of Tree questioned this as well. “How can you say this? You do not know.”

Eagle Eyes replied, “It is true. I do not know for certain. However, the Z-Lotz leader, Nut-Pi, though he had a killing stick, had numerous guards around him to face these unarmed persons. He used a weapon which easily and immediately killed two men. And yet, he did not use it just once but many times on his last victim. He intentionally and cruelly inflicted pain. Such damage as caused by the killing stick could have killed quickly. He chose to do it slowly instead. That is a bully. He used his power and his weapon to humiliate and cause unneeded pain. These are signs of a coward.” 

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There was a general murmur of assent. 

“The other man — the leader, so I think, of the People Who Steal Children begged for his life. He did not try to help his comrades. As Lion Slayer said, he looked to be one who has things brought to him all his life, or at least recently.” 

Many Paths added, “Indeed, we already have evidence that Nut-Pi was a coward. He did not participate in the Battle of Three Forks though he tricked others into fighting. He promised the booty to be gained from the defeat of the Veritas to three different tribes. Surely, he knows one thing cannot be given to three different tribes. He lied to his own comrades and allies. Such a man is a coward.” 

Trunk of Tree again spoke. Since he had no direct knowledge of the affairs, it began to seem to many among the Veritas that he was not participating in a true dialogue. This rarely happened, but it had happened. 

Trunk of Tree said, “So there are cowards with killing sticks and cowards without killing sticks. From this we learn nothing. A strong leader, who is not a coward could be a very formidable leader and lead his people to victory after victory.” After a short pause, he added, “Assuming such killing sticks even exist, of course.” 

Eagle Eyes shot a look at Trunk of Tree and caught his eye. She signed to him subtly so that others might not see, but openly enough that Trunk of Tree caught the meaning of her deft sign language, as did Many Paths and several others. “Do you think I am a liar, Trunk of Tree?” the gestures asked.

Easy Tears spoke next, “Trunk of Tree, we welcome you to share your thoughts with the tribe, just as we welcome the thoughts of everyone in the tribe. But I, for one, would like to hear from others what they think of this killing stick. And, speaking of sticks, Many Paths, perhaps it is time to make use of the Talking Stick as well.” 

There was a general murmur of assent at this suggestion. The tribe had not forgotten that not so long ago, Trunk of Tree had spoken against the leadership of Many Paths and even now, it seemed that everything he said was aimed toward making him leader and making him in charge of the killing sticks, no matter what the costs. 

Many Paths stood and held aloft the Talking Stick.  She glanced around the circles and saw that Stone Chipper wanted to speak so she handed him the Talking Stick. 

“You all do know that we use arrowheads and spearheads and that the preparation of such requires work. Yet, most of you do other work, so you do not realize how much skill and how much work is involved in making a good arrowhead or a good spearhead or a really good axe. It may be that these killing sticks require much less work. Or, it may be that these killing sticks require much more work to fashion. We have no idea. We also have no idea how much skill is involved in keeping one or using one. We do not know how much using a killing dulls it. Can it be used ten times? A hundred times? A thousand times? Not everyone is equally skilled at bow and arrow. Not everyone is equally skilled at using a spear thrower. Sometimes, in learning to use our weapons, one of our own is injured. You have all heard how flaming arrows, which seem like an excellent weapon accidentally destroyed an entire village. We know nothing about the dangers of such killing sticks. Perhaps one who seeks to learn to become highly skilled might accidentally kill others or themselves while they are learning. Perhaps we should all have one. Perhaps no-one should. But I believe it would be foolish to steal them from these people of the great walled city, these Z-Lotz, until we know more about them. It isn’t just like stealing their bows and arrows which we know how to use and make and care for.” 

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Stone Chipper’s son, Horse Viewer offered his hand to his father who laid the Talking Stick for the first time in his son’s hand. Stone Chipper hoped his son’s would prove wise. “When I was young and first followed my father to help find appropriate stones, I generally walked barefoot. As I grew heavier and my father walked more quickly, I disliked the sharp stones on my feet. So, I began to wear moccasins as most do. This protected my feet. But it also made them softer. Is it not possible that using the Killing Sticks would make the arms that throw spears and the arm that strings and draws a bow softer and weaker as well? That is my thought.”

She Who Saves Many Lives took the Talking Stick and said, “And that is a good thought, Stone Chipper.” Though the tribe awaited her to say more, she passed the Talking Stick to A-OC.

“It is thus with hands as well. And muscles,” said A-OC. “When it is the season to climb the trees and fetch fruit, my skin and my arms both become stronger. But when it is a season of much weaving, only the tips of my fingers are hard.” With that she passed the Talking Stick to Bent Finger.

He silently held up the crooked index finger of his left hand. “It is true that the animals of the forest, the trees, even the rivers adapt as do our own bodies, but not always. Sometimes accidents happen and there is no repairing it. As you see, my badly broken finger never did straighten or regain its earlier strength. This makes me wonder about the accidents that might happen with such killing sticks about our camp.” 

P-OC gently took the Talking Stick. “We talk of killing sticks. But if I understand the tale told by Eagle Eyes and Lion Slayer, they saw one killing stick. Do we really know whether there are more?” 

Lion Slayer signaled his intention to speak again. Many Paths took the talking stick from P-OC and handed it to Lion Slayer. “It is true, P-OC. We only saw one. That is an important point. In the place where Sadah and I were born, there are many grains of sand. They are each but a very small rock, so tiny that even an ant may carry such a very small rock with no harm. But when there are many many such small stones and they fly together like a large murmuration of starlings, these insignificant tiny stones can kill the strongest among us if he is left unprotected.   So, I agree that it makes a great deal of difference if there is one such killing stick or a hundred or a hundred hundred.” 

Eagle Eyes spoke next, “I do not know whether there are a hundred or a hundred hundred, but I am fairly certain that there are seventeen. I mean, at least seventeen.” 

Lion Slayer was taken aback. “But we only saw one. What do you mean?” 

Eagle Eyes explained. “I agree that the number is an important point, so I have been returning to our observations from before we arrived at the giant camp of the Z-Lotz. When we were searching the horizon for signs of our comrades, I saw many — well, 17 to be exact — of such similar sticks being carried among the party. I just thought at the time that they were odd spears or walking sticks. I did not realize at the time that they were sticks that kill so I did not pay much attention to them. But upon returning as I just have to what my eyes saw, there were seventeen.” 

Lion Slayer shook his head slowly. “I do not recall seeing any others. But I do believe Eagle Eyes. She is amazing. Her eyesight is much better than normal. It is possible…how do you…you notice so much, Eagle Eyes.”

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Many Paths picked up the Talking Stick and noticed Trunk of Tree wanting to talk. She used her prerogative though and added, “I, for one, believe Eagle Eyes. But we still do not know whether there are 17 or 100 or 100 of 100. This seems important for two reasons. First, a hundred hundred such weapons could be overwhelming while even so many as seventeen might be defeated by our archers. Aside from that, if there are only seventeen such Killing Sticks and each one owned by someone else, then, if we were to steal one to study, we would surely be found out. But if there are hundreds, a few missing would be far less noticeable.” 

Trunk of Tree could no longer contain himself, “Wait! A few minutes ago, you were cautioning against trying to learn more Now, you want us to steal such Killing Sticks.” 

Many Paths tilted her head toward Trunk of Tree and held the Talking Stick high. “Trunk of Tree, you must wait your turn, even as so must Eagle Eyes and Lion Slayer who were actually there or even as so must everyone. You must wait your turn, even as young Horse Viewer did, though he be only of nine summers.” 

Gentle laughter murmured among the gathering and Many Paths continued. “I did not say either of those things. In fact, in my whole life, I don’t recall ever saying that we should not learn more. What I do believe is that it would be wonderful to know more about these Killing Sticks, but I also believe that there would be great risks in trying to steal one or more of them. I did not say that we should attempt such a theft. I said that if we were to steal some and that there were only a few, these Z-Lotz would likely notice that they had been stolen.” 

There were nods among many of the Veritas. 

Fleet of Foot signaled for the Talking Stick and Many Paths handed it to him. “Many Paths speaks true. I have been thinking of something else though. What would it mean if we had many such Killing Sticks and it were so easy to kill? What would it mean if we could kill with so little effort? Might not the people use them to kill each other?” He looked at the Veritas in the firelight as he spoke.

“Have you never quarreled with your neighbor and raised your voices in anger and tussled with them momentarily. Perhaps you were so angered you went home and plotted to kill them. But that took some thought. And as you thought about what to do, you soon came to realize that you had no real desire to kill your friend. You were merely angry. And so what if she were in the wrong. Your friendship is more important. And, the next day you embraced her and forgot the argument of the yesterday, choosing life and love, in the today.

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“Imagine you had ready to hand one of these killing sticks and you got so mad you stung her to death with it. Your friend is dead. You will never be the same. Now, also are two families devastated. Anger and division will creep into our numbers as never before. 

“And suppose,” continued Fleet of Foot, that many tribes all have such weapons? Will they not have such moments and cause wars with the killing of many on both sides? And could these killing sticks not also be useful in keeping slaves?” 

Easy Tears added, “Yes, but there are other ways to do that — to keep slaves.”  

A-OC took another turn, “Is this possible misuse among ourselves not a greater danger than the temporary military disadvantage? If we cannot safely still such killing sticks, can we make  these killing sticks?” 

Stone Chipper asked, “Do we have any idea how they might work?” 

A long silence followed. 

Eagle Eyes said, “I know fairly well what they looked but I have no idea how the work.” 

Many Paths spoke, “It grows quite late. We must discuss this further, of course. For now, we must post more guards. Trunk of Tree, will you please consider how best to do that?” 

He nodded, glad of something to do and glad of the honor that Many Paths bestowed after chiding him somewhat for speaking out of turn. 

“Eagle Eyes, tomorrow, perhaps you and I and Stone Carver and Easy Tears may begin making some models of these Killing Sticks. I would like us to make perhaps seventeen — quite a good number for now — and spread them about among our people. I would like those who are given such to imagine that they are actual Killing Sticks. And, I would like everyone else among you to also imagine that they are true Killing Sticks. I would like to see how people react to these Killing Sticks among us as we continue to discuss what to do. Even though the Killing Sticks are not real, having such a thing — it is much like the masks we use to help with hunting. It will help us decide how to deal. Even such Killing Sticks as Nut-Pi has will not kill all our cousins in the sea and the air, all our brothers that hide in their tiny caves. Life will persist. This I know. Peace now be with you all.” She glanced at She Who Saves Many Lives. Even in the dim and flickering firelight she could see a small nod and an approving smile on the lips of the Elder. 

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————————————————-

Author Page on Amazon. 

A Pattern Language for Collaboration and Cooperation

Where Does Your Loyalty Lie?

My Cousin Bobby

Donnie Gets His Name on a Tennis Trophy

Donnie Takes a Blue Ribbon in Spelling

The Invisibility Cloak of Habit

Bohm Dialogue

Absolute is Not Just a Vodka

The Myths of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy

The Myths of the Veritas: The Forgotten Field

The Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

The Silent Screams of Dead Men’s Dreams

Dick-Taters

Math Class: Who Are You?

An Open Sore From Hell

After All

Guernica

All We Stand to Lose

There Never Was a Civil War

Love and Guns

Imagine All the People

The Dance of Billions

Roar, Ocean, Roar

Eagle Eyes Begins to Tell her Tale

19 Sunday Apr 2026

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

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Eagle Eyes, fiction, leadership, legends, Many Paths, myths, short story, stories, tales, Trunk of Tree, Veritas, writing

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Though still somewhat exhausted from her journey, Eagle Eyes felt like pitching in with the preparations for the upcoming feast. Whenever she closed her eyes to rest, visions of flames the size of trees danced behind her eyelids. Even the familiar and normally pleasurable sounds like the beating of drums or the cutting of wood startled her and made her flinch. She could see again in her mind’s eye, the horrible torture and death that she and Lion Slayer had witnessed in the City of the Z-lotz. Though she had very much been looking forward to re-uniting with Trunk of Tree, she felt a strange distance from him upon her actual return. 

She spied Many Paths sitting alone and weaving some leaf-plates for the feast. She hunkered down beside her and smiled. “Do you mind if I help?”

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Many Paths smiled. “Of course not. I always welcome your company. And I really missed you. Of course, I worried about you as well. Each day, I wondered whether it was even wise to send so many after Tu-Swift….” Here, her voice trailed off and she sighed. “Damn!” She exclaimed as she cut the inside of her index finger on the sharp edge of a reed. “I have to be more careful,” she muttered. 

“That happens. It’s understandable that you still have much on your mind. I hate to add to your burdens, but, can you tell me anything about why Trunk of Tree seems so cold to me?” 

Many Paths sighed and sucked on her cut. She took out a small leaf of Witch Hazel from her medicine pouch and held it firmly on her small cut. She looked at Eagle Eyes. 

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“Perhaps. I am not sure. I can tell you my best guess, but it is really only that. You should talk with Trunk of Tree frankly and ask him yourself. But you should know this. When days passed and we saw none of you returned, he began to question my judgement as leader. He thought that we should have sent out a massive war party. No, no, don’t frown. I don’t really blame him. I questioned whether I had done the right thing myself. There were so many unknowns. Like so many braves before him, he got it in his head that because he was stronger than I am, he should be the leader. He spoke to others among the Veritas. And, although there were some who were privately questioning my decision, his way of approaching people — he did not gain any real following. In fact, I think he made himself less popular than he had been before.

Many Paths sighed as she finished weaving one plate and began on the next. “I think that in order to make his case more strongly, he assumed or at least argued that all of you were dead — including you. I am quite sure that part of him is quite happy to see you. But at the same time, the return of so many of the search party, notwithstanding that we still have no sign of Tu-Swift or Shadow Walker, has dispelled any slight support he might have had. So, your very presence reminds him that he was wrong — at least about all of you perishing. It still might be that he was correct. Maybe we should have sent out a large war party.”

“No, you were not wrong. A large war party — or what we call a large war party — Many Paths, I have to tell you, the place that we saw was huge. It was filled with uncountably many people. And there were many strange things. Even if all of us had attacked such a place, I fear all of us would have perished. And, I have no idea how these killing sticks worked or how many there might be. But why should he be ashamed of being wrong? Everyone makes mistakes.” 

“Indeed, Eagle Eyes. Everyone makes mistakes. It is not worrisome that he was wrong. Obviously, I am happy you and so many others survived. It does bother me that he is so stubborn. But there is more you should know as well.” 

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Original Artwork by Pierce Morgan

“What, Many Paths? Did he find another woman to take pleasure with because he thought I was dead?” 

Many Paths stopped weaving. “Not so far as I know. However… he did approach me. No, no, no. Nothing happened. He thought that since you and Shadow Walker were both ‘obviously’ dead, he and I should wed and rule ‘together’ though it was clear from his talk that what he really meant was that he would actually rule and I would support him.” 

“So you considered his proposal? You were willing to abandon Shadow Walker — and me?”

Many Paths shook her head violently. “No! No! I listened to what he said. I never thought that — he is not my — I never thought you were dead. I was — I am still sure that Shadow Walker is alive. I can feel his life out there heading our way. When I received your eagle and the bit of cloth you tied to it, I realized that you had probably survived a fire and that such fire, though far away, had colored our sunsets and sunrises for days. Of course, I showed this cloth to Trunk of Tree but he dismissed it. The two of us never had any kind of coming together. I’m sorry. I know he’s your friend but I do not believe he should be leader. You, Eagle Eyes — you I think could be a fine leader. But Trunk of Tree, to tell you true — I think he is too full of himself to be a good leader. Look over by the chestnut tree.” 

Eagle Eyes glanced over at Trunk of Tree who leaned back against the trunk of a very large chestnut tree and glowered at the two of them. In his hands, he turned a large rock over and over in his hands. Eagle Eyes could see the rippling muscles of his forearms. She wished she were being caressed instead of a rock.

Eagle Eyes looked back at her friend, Many Paths. “Are you sure you did not encourage him to come after you?” 

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“Of course. I am very much in love with Shadow Walker and very sure he is still alive. I am less clear about Tu-Swift. But in any case, I was also sure that you were alive as well. I wouldn’t betray you. I can’t imagine myself with Trunk of Tree even if you and Shadow Walker were both dead. You have good reason to be exhausted and yet here you are — you’re helping me make plates. Trunk of Tree has mainly been busy stirring up trouble, frankly, and there he sits while nearly everyone else is aiding to make the feast. I admire his strength. I admire his courage. He is good looking. And he is a good leader on the battlefield, but he wants to make everything a battlefield. An idea comes to him and he wants to immediately do it without thinking through the consequences. No. Not for me. I did not lead him on, I assure you. Not even a little.” 

Eagle Eyes did not want to believe bad things about Trunk of Tree. But she knew her friend Many Paths to be honest and open-hearted. “I believe you, Many Paths. Of course I do.” 

“Thank you, Eagle Eyes. Thank you.” 

They wove plates for a time in silence. Many Paths said, “But tell me more about your adventures! What did you see on your journey?”

“Oh, we do have other discoveries to share, though surely none are as important as the killing sticks

“I agree, Eagle Eyes, but what other discoveries?” asked Many Paths. 

“Take a look at this!” Eagle Eyes drew from her pack a strange object shaped like a brick. She took two sides of the brick and opened it to reveal a host of white cloths inside. “These very thin hard cloths or skins make excellent tinder for fire starting. It’s a clever arrangement to carry so much tinder in such a small space.” 

Many Paths took the strange object from Eagle Eyes. As she examined it, she quickly realized that each of the skins was nearly filled with odd stick figure drawings. “Look here, Eagle Eyes. Each of these skins, if that’s what they are, has many markings. Someone went to a lot of trouble to draw that many little pictures.”

Eagle Eyes took back the weird object and glanced through all the layers. “You’re right, Many Paths. It’s true; there are a sea of them, each one different from any of the others. Yet, these two are the same, and these. Wait. No, they are not all different, but there are many different types of pictures.”

“How odd.” Many Paths turned the object over and over in her hand. “It cannot be a story because then the pictures would change from beginning to end. Why would they do this? For decoration I suppose, but you can only see a few hundred at a time and the object itself doesn’t look durable. Maybe it has some religious significance? Is it not true of the Z-Lotz that they are very religious?”

Eagle Eyes nodded. “They make a show of religion, from what we understand. But, it may be a ruse. We shall see.” 

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“Anyway,” said Many Paths, “this also prevents a mystery, but does not have the priority of your disturbing news about killing sticks. What else did you see?” 

“We found a door. It was made of something so strong and hard. It was as hard … it was as hard as ice, but unlike ice, you could not break it or chip it. And, it was heavy. It took many strong pushes to open that door. We saw more of this odd material in the large walled camp. But let me ask you another question. Why are you sure Shadow Walker is alive?” 

“I cannot really explain it. I feel connected to him. Of course, I feel connected to Tu-Swift as well. But when I take out the Sixth Ring of Empathy…it could just be wishful thinking. I also feel that Shadow Walker will do everything possible to ensure the safety of Tu-Swift. When I touch the Sixth Ring of empathy, I often feel that he is doing the same. It could be delusional, but somehow, I don’t think so.” 

After a moment, Many Paths looked about her and saw that the Veritas were beginning to gather for a feast. She could only perceive small snippets of conversation, but there was a general air of excitement. People were glad that so many of the Veritas had returned and it appeared as well that some sort of vengeance had destroyed the village of the People who Steal Children though it was their own fire arrows that destroyed them. Everyone was eager to learn what others had seen most recently. 

close up photography of burning woods

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When it came time for storytelling, though she didn’t know all the details, she strongly suspected that the tale of Eagle Eyes would be the most dramatic. But she was reluctant to end all the tales with the tale of the killing sticks. She judged it better, on balance, to begin with Eagle Eyes and Eagle Eyes agreed. 

As Eagle Eyes stood to begin her tale, she realized for a moment that she was tired, very tired. But she was home. She glanced around and caught the eye of Trunk of Tree. She smiled at him and he seemed to give a genuine smile in return. Of this much she was sure. Like everyone else, he very much wanted to hear her tale. She decided that though she would look at everyone, she would return her gaze to Trunk of Tree. She would make him feel as though he had been with her the whole time. In this way, she hoped to bond them once again with her experience which could become their common experience with a decent telling. 

She began: “You all remember that at the feast of Beltane, we were attacked by surprise with People who Stand on Horses. And these people had fire arrows to destroy as though they had forgotten the Legend of the Orange Man. We discovered that Tu-Swift, the brother of our leader Many Paths, was missing. To our great horror, we discovered that these People who Stand on Horses are also a People who Steal Children.” 

Original Masks by Sarah Morgan

Original Masks by Sarah Morgan

———————————————————-

The Myths of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy (Book 1 starts)

The Myths of the Veritas: Feast and Fire (Book 2 starts) 

The Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man (An older, isolated tale). 

Introduction to a Pattern Language for Cooperation and Collaboration. 

Index to Patterns so far. 

Dick-Taters

Love and Guns

The Silent Screams of Dead Men’s Dreams

All We Stand to Lose

We Won the War! We Won the War!

The Crows and Me

Fish Have no Word for Water

After All

 

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