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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 

Return from the Old Place

08 Friday May 2026

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

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Tags

AI, environment, ethics, fiction, legend, life, myth, nature, politics, Resistance, short story, story, tale, truth, Veritas, weapons, writing

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Many Paths led their foursome back toward the Center Place of the Veritas. She contrived to walk near Cat Eyes and Cat Eyes walked behind Jaccim. Thus, Many Paths continued a sort of indirect dialogue with Jaccim. 

“Ask him if the mother horse loves her baby horse.” 

Cat Eyes quickened her step till she walked close to Jaccim. She noticed that he seemed fairly recovered from his injuries. 

“Oh, yes! Very much!” Cat Eyes translated back to Many Paths who then elaborated this idea by asking about all sorts of animals. When she judged that the mind and heart of Jaccim were both prepared, she shifted to a related but different topic. 

“It seems to me the natural order of things. The natural place of adults is to care for children, not to enslave them. We want to teach them but we don’t want to harm them. Ever. Every living thing has a pattern. A pine tree grows in the pine tree pattern. An oak tree grows in the oak pattern. A grape vine grows in the grape vine pattern.” 

in distant photo of tree on landscape field

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A long conversation ensued between Cat Eyes and Jaccim. At last, Cat Eyes looked back over her shoulder to Many Paths. “I think he understands. He understood after I gave your specific examples. I don’t know of a way to say ‘the natural order’ or ‘the natural place’ in ROI. That doesn’t surprise me. They have little respect for the way things are in nature.” 

Cat Eyes walked another hundred yards in silence. At last, she spoke again, loudly enough for all of them to hear. “It is as though everything in nature is there for them to use…to steal for their own use. So, perhaps it is not surprising that they also steal children away from their parents.” 

Many Paths furrowed her brow. She shook her head. She thought about it and thought about her dream and the dream of She Who Saves Many Lives. She looked out over the beautiful plain below and felt a hollow in her chest much as she felt when Shadow Walker and Tu-Swift were away and possibly dead. Her sorrow and worry now were not for the two people she most loved, but for her the entire tribe whom she loved. If these people who cared not for nature — these people who stole other people’s children… if they had killing sticks and they were numerous and cruel, this might all be destroyed — all the beauty, all of nature, all of the Veritas. Everyone and everything that she loved. Gone.

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For a moment, she pointed her hand toward Jaccim’s back. Her nostrils flared and she saw flames shoot from her hands and burn him badly. Then, Many Paths shook her head to wipe the fantasy from her mind. She felt she had reason to hate these ROI and the only one in sight was Jaccim. Yet, she may need him in more ways than one. And, was it his fault to be born among and learn the ways of the ROI? She might as well be angry at a flea for biting a dog or an eagle for snatching a fish. 

A more central reason for her sudden anger, she realized, was that she seemed completely unable to understand this man’s heart. She had all seven rings of empathy and she still had no idea how he could look at the world the way it seemed he did. But she must try. What if there were some useful truth in the way he looked at the world even though it was distasteful to her? And, even if that turned out not to be the case, it was certainly the case that understanding the way he thought would be of enormous use in case of war, or, in case of slavery. She had to try, for the sake of everyone she loved, to try to understand this man’s heart and mind. It is clear, Many Paths suddenly thought to herself — I must learn this man’s language. “Cat Eyes!” 

“Yes?” 

“I want you to teach me ROI. Will you?”

“Certainly. But really, you should learn from Jaccim. He knows it much better and he speaks with the … the flourish of the way the words are spoken. Perhaps…perhaps it would be good for everyone to know all the languages, at least some. Do you think so, Many Paths?”

“Yes. I certainly do.” Then, Many Paths thought to herself: How can the people do all that needs to be done though? She had taken the lead for awhile and suddenly a hart leapt across her path only a short distance ahead. She was thrilled with the beauty of the deer — as though all the parts worked together with the single goal of staying alive. Many Paths thought: That’s what we need to do with the Tribe as well, I think. Yes. I must explain all the plans, but different persons of the Veritas will be responsible for different parts. But we will all know the whole of it. And I may not even know all the parts we need, but there’s already a fair number. 

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She continued her planning: There is the matter of the Killing Sticks. We need to know more about them, but we also need to begin thinking about other weapons in case we cannot get them. Eagle Eyes would be good for that. But…she’d also be important in leading reconnaissance to the Walled Camp of the Z-Lotz, both because she’d been there and because of her superior eyesight. I could lead the thinking on alternative weapons, at least until we know more about the nature of the Killing Sticks. Some of the Veritas, but not all, should put energies into knowing as much as possible about these people who seem not to care about nature. But they are of nature. How can this be? How can this be? It is like a child hating his own mother. Perhaps that is why they steal people’s children. Perhaps such a child hates their own mother for not protecting them. Then, such a person might also not feel the truth of their connection to the Tree of Life. Yet, Cat Eyes seems all right. She’s not … disconnected. I think it’s time for a talk with She Who Saves Many Lives. 

Many Paths reflected ruefully that her usual joy in walking back toward the Center Place of the Veritas was now marred by her own thoughts. Once she decided to lead the group that would think about weapons, she could not turn that stream off. Instead of noticing the brilliant pink glow of some Lady Slippers growing near a stream, she thought of their medicinal properties as a soporific. She began to wonder how much would be required to poison opposing warriors, or, if it came to that, slave-owners. Poppy Pods could be used the same way. Cat Eyes had said that some of the slave children of the Z-Lotz had found ways to thwart their overseers. She herself had managed to sicken those who “owned” her. She had never used enough poison to kill anyone, not because she would feel guilty, but because it would increase the chances of being found out. She would typically contrive, not to sicken everyone in a family, but one person at a time, so that every few weeks, one or the other would find themselves retching all day or unusually tired. That way, her captors had simply assumed an illness was working its way through the family. She would feign these symptoms herself so as to avoid suspicion. 

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And, now, instead of enjoying the delicate blooms of the Lady Slippers for their own sake, Many Paths found herself eyeing everything in the field and the forest as a possible tool — a weapon of defense or offense. Wasn’t this frame of mind exactly what the ROI themselves did? And, according to Cat Eyes, this was also the true way that the most powerful and richest among the Z-Lotz viewed the world. Though they would put on a show of being consumed with piety, they were constantly scheming to get more through work or artifice or treachery. 

Many Paths wondered if she was simply feeding the bad wolf within herself. Would she become so consumed with how to destroy the lives of those who would kill or enslave the Veritas that she herself would lose the capacity to feel for others? Was there a path to peace that did not run through the fire of war? I must speak of this with She Who Saves Many Lives, she thought again. And, I will speak of this with Shadow Walker as well. Perhaps he and I can help each other keep the light of love alive through the coming trials. 

Shadow Walker had said that the People Who Steal Children had made no effective attempt to cover their trail. Perhaps they had spent so long plotting and scheming to get more that they no longer saw the impact of their own actions on the world. Or, perhaps, they could still cover their trail but believed so much in the superiority of their numbers and their weapons that they didn’t bother. Maybe hiding hoof prints is just too difficult and time consuming. She did not want to become a person who saw nothing, heard nothing, felt nothing except for how it furthered or did not further her plans to hurt others. 

Maybe, she reflected, there is a way to turn the minds of the Z-Lotz back to pleasurable things and back toward harmony. She Who Saves Many Lives had tried to do this with POND MUD and ALT-R. But they were somehow beyond — it seemed they had fallen in some way. Tu-Swift had hurt his knee fleeing the flames. He might — or might not — be permanently marred in his running. Perhaps ALT-R and POND MUD had been marred in their souls to such an extent that they could not ever have been healed. She had tried. Others had tried. And, what of this man NUT-PI? From all accounts, he seemed to actually enjoy inflicting pain on others. That might be a type of wound of the soul that festers and never recovers. In rare cases, she knew that the infection of a wound sometimes festers and the sickness of the wound spreads until it destroys the human body of a person, no matter what medicines are given, or how many healing songs are sung. Is this what had happened with ALT-R and POND MUD? And, NUT-PI? Could this happen to Many Paths herself if she kept dwelling on all the different ways to sicken, maim, hurt, thwart the Z-Lotz? 

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Original drawing by Pierce Morgan

She hoped not. Yet, even as she walked this path, one of her favorites, she looked at a different forest, a different field — one less filled with life. It was a path on which things of use rather than things of beauty stood out for her. Saplings became spears in waiting. Thorn Apples became possible two-part weapons. She could coat the thorns in a poison from the leaves and then arrange for the thorns to penetrate the skin. Rocks along the path reminded her of slings. Slings and rocks. These were weapons that could always be ready to hand for a people who were captured. Tu-Swift himself had used a small rock to sabotage some of the weapons of the ROI. 

Many Paths tried to drink in the beauty surrounding her with the eyes of her youth, and she could, but now it seemed an effort. After all, if she could not help lead her people so as to prevent the destructive war that seemed inevitable, there might not be any beauty left to drink. In the Battle of the Three Paths, two would-be enemies had been persuaded not to fight. But they had had to fight the Cupiditas. Those people could not be deterred, at least in any way that anyone had yet discovered. She resolved to spend some part of each day reminding herself of the way of seeing which was to feel the inner beating heart that she shared with all living things. But for the rest, she would dedicate herself to finding many weapons of war, the most important among those weapons being yet the way of peace. Perhaps, thought Many Paths, if the way of the Z-Lotz and the ROI is to stop seeing the harmony of nature, we can use the harmony of nature that they no longer see as a kind of weapon to destroy them. Or, maybe we can somehow rekindle that love-sight in their souls. 

Many Paths began to sing the legend of the Forgotten Field of Flowers and soon Cat Eyes and Tu-Swift began to sing along. Jaccim improvised a humming beat to accompany. Singing one of the songs of her people put Many Paths in a more harmonious mood and as she glanced to the northern horizon, the flashes of lightning in the dark clouds filled her with awe. The storm was headed their way, but she relished the smell of summer rain and looked forward to the downpour. 

island during golden hour and upcoming storm

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Many Paths came to the end of her song. To her surprise, Cat Eyes kept singing! She sang verses that Many Paths had never before heard. Cat Eyes sang with a beautiful clear voice. She sang with joy and she sang with a profound sadness at the same time. The voice of Cat Eyes filled the heart of Many Paths and she wondered yet again what deep wounds had been cut into the very heart of Cat Eyes and how those wounds had been healed. Many Paths nodded and made an effort to remember her next thought: Perhaps that soul-healing was also a weapon–or anti-weapon– whose secrets must be discovered.

———————————————-

Author Page on Amazon

Start of the First Book of The Myths of the Veritas

Start of the Second Book of the Myths of the Veritas

Table of Contents for the Second Book of the Veritas

Table of Contents for Essays on America 

Index for a Pattern Language for Teamwork and Collaboration  

The Orange Man

The Forgotten Field

Labelism

Wednesday

The Game

The Update Problem

Destroying Natural Intelligence

All we Stand to Lose

The Silent Screams of Dead Men’s Dreams

After All

The Isle of Right

Imagine All the People

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

 

  

Love’s Afterglow

26 Sunday Apr 2026

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You too!” 

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

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

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

Original Masks by Sarah Morgan

Original Masks by Sarah Morgan

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

body of water near mountain

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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———————————————————

Author Page on Amazon

Start of the First Book of The Myths of the Veritas

Start of the Second Book of the Myths of the Veritas

Table of Contents for the Second Book of the Veritas

The Orange Man

Table of Contents for Essays on America 

Index for a Pattern Language for Teamwork and Collaboration  

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

You Must Remember This

The Forest

The Jewels of November

The Walkabout Diaries: Sunsets

Travels with Sadie: Teamwork

The Silent Screams of Dead Men’s Dreams

Their Dead Shark Eyes

The “Not-See” Party

All We Stand to Lose

After All

We Won the War! We Won the War!

At Least He’s Our Monster

Imagine All the People

Roar, Ocean, Roar!

The Dance of Billions

 

Skipping Stones

23 Thursday Apr 2026

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

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

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

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

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

body of water near mountain

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

aerial photo of mountain surrounded by fog

Photo by icon0.com on Pexels.com

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

———————————————-

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

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

Original Masks by Sarah Morgan

Original Masks by Sarah Morgan

————————————————-

 

—————————————————-

Start of Book One of The Myths of the Veritas

Start of Book Two of The Myths of the Veritas

Introduction to a Pattern Language for Teamwork & Collaboration

Index to a Pattern Language for Teamwork & Collaboration

Author Page on Amazon

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

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

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

Recollections and Reflections: Tales from an American Childhood

Worst Monster of All?

17 Friday Apr 2026

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

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Tags

leadership, life, poem, poetry, politics, truth, USA

Photo by Vlad Bagacian on Pexels.com

Whispered around the campfire 

Many evil tales of wanton woe:

A terrible bear with claws of fire.

Gigantic maw of merciless crow. 

Slashing teeth of wolves in pack. 

Eating alive just for a snack.

Photo by Petr Ganaj on Pexels.com



But the scariest monster of every tale:

The naked ape who lost his tail.

Hell-bent on winning, 

He binged on his sinning.

Demanded it all.

Gorging on gall,

He was ripe for the fall 

With his ego so tall.

Left hand said: 

“I want! I need! I get!
You must forget.
You must forfeit.”

Right hand said:


“I want! I need! I get!
You must forget.
You must forfeit!”

Well, well, well. Isn’t that swell.

I’ll see you both in holy hell.

You can fight and you can stew

If that’s all you’re smart enough to do. 

You’ll lose it all in your ego-ooze.

Snooze and booze and all will lose.

Left foot said:

“I go first. I must be first. It is the law!”

Right foot said:

“Stupid Left, I win the draw!
It’s always Right for right foot first.
I sever you with sharpest saw!
And with your blood I slake my thirst!”

Left eye screamed its vivid dreams:
“I see what’s what and all that’s true!”

Right eye schemed and mimicked memes:
“I see Truth. I always do!”

But the scariest monster of every tale:

The naked ape who lost his tail.

Hell-bent on winning,

He binged on his sinning.

Demanded it all.

Gorging on gall,

He was ripe for the fall 

With his ego so tall.

With his ego so tall,

He was ripe for the fall.




The Myths of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy

The Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

The Myths of the Veritas: The Forgotten Field

Travels with Sadie Teamwork

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

Roar, Ocean, Roar!

The Walkabout Diaries: Friends

A Pattern Language for Cooperation and Collaboration

The Dance of Billions

Author Page

Freedom and Local Knowledge

16 Thursday Apr 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, essay, politics, psychology

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Tags

autocracy, Democracy, Dictatorship, fascism, freedom, garden, life, nature, politics, truth, USA, writing

Consider the photograph below. Tell me what you see and think about what you infer based on the combination of your perception of the photo and your general knowledge. You might want to jot it down. 

Let’s do a similar exercise based on the photograph below. Again, what is your take-away? I’ll give you a hint. I live in the San Diego area and these photos were taken just a couple days ago (early April, 2026) near where I live. 

I took the first photo coming out of the grocery store after doing the shopping. What I “saw” pleased me. I “saw” that my car had an empty parking space on both sides. That makes loading the car from the grocery cart easier. My car is the dark Lexus just beyond the large red pick-up truck. I can recognize my car from almost any small portion of it. 

I took the second photo on a Wednesday afternoon. It shows me that it’s still sunny out. It also shows that the gardeners have done with the work and left. The last thing they do is to take out  to the curb the lawn trash, the garbage can, and the recycling bin. I can’t see the bins, but I can see the shadows of the bins. When the gardeners come, I open the gate to the garden. Since they are now gone, I plan to take the dogs out in the back. I will first have to re-shut the garden gate so they don’t go bounding out of the garden into the street. 

There’s very little chance that you would have any way to figure out what these stimuli mean to me in my context and constraints and goals. And that’s okay. You have hundreds of goals, constraints, and habits that I know nothing about. 

It would be absurd for me to try to direct your life and it would be equally absurd for you to try to direct mine. Luckily, we live in a free country. Of course, there are some constraints on that freedom. It’s not legal for me to go steal stuff from my neighbors nor is it legal for them to steal things from me. But in many areas, large and small, each of is free to do as we wish. My neighbors might take their own trash cans out to the street and do it on their own schedule. 

Not everyone on the planet is lucky enough to live in a free country. 

A dictatorship seeks to control everything about your life. They do not take into account your goals, your context, your habits, your preferences, your constraints. They don’t care. They have neither the knowledge nor the desire to put in place controls that will be right for me. They won’t be right for you either. They won’t be right for anyone.

Except themselves. That’s what dictatorships do. They take power in order to control you, enslave you, and steal from you. 

And, if they feel like it, they’re perfectly fine shooting you in the face after you wish them a Good day.

——————

Finding the Mustard

The Self-Made Man

Author Page

A Pattern Language for Collaboration and Cooperation

Travels with Sadie Teamwork

The Walkabout Diaries Natural Variation

All We Stand to Lose

Dick-Taters

Absolute is Not Just a Vodka

The Myths of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy

FREEDOM! 

The Self-Made Man

The Orange Man

The Three Blind Mice

Stoned Soup

The Dance of Billions

An Open Sore from Hell

Roar, Ocean, Roar! 

Imagine All the People

Solomon’s Seal

16 Thursday Apr 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, Uncategorized, Veritas

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Tags

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Such craziness.”

——————————————————-

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

The Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

The Myths of the Veritas: Beginning of Book One. 

The Myths of the Veritas: Beginning of Book Two. 

Author Page on Amazon. 

Where Does Your Loyalty Lie?

My Cousin Bobby

Labelism

You Bet Your Life

After All

We Won the War! We Won the War!

Who Won the War?

All We Stand to Lose

The Update Problem

The Stopping Rule

Dick-Taters

Absolute Is Not Just a Vodka

Myths of the Veritas: When Eagles Return

10 Friday Apr 2026

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

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

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

silhouette of bird above clouds

Photo by Flo Maderebner on Pexels.com

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

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

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

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

animal avian bald eagle beak

Photo by Anthony on Pexels.com

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

selective focus photography of grilled corns

Photo by Engin Akyurt on Pexels.com

 

————————————————

The Creation Myth of the Veritas

The Orange Man: A Parable of Lying and Greed

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

Fire and Feast (The Start of Book Two)

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

Author Page on Amazon

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

At Least He’s Our Monster

Come Together Right Now

The Isle of Right

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

The Truth Train

A Lot is Not a Little

Absolute is not Just a Vodka

The Crows and Me

Guernica

Travels with Sadie: Teamwork

The Walkabout Diaries: Mind Walk

Pattern Language for Collaboration and Cooperation

Fifteen Properties

The “Not-See” Party

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