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Tu-Swift Dreams of Drums

03 Friday Apr 2026

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

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Tu-Swift Dreams of Drums.

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Tu-Swift’s lids felt heavy. As they fluttered shut, the strange markings on the hides swam before his eyes. In the distance, he could hear drumming. Drumming. Very pleasant. Very nice. Tu-Swift remembered hearing the drumming as She Who Saves Many Lives intoned a long poem for all of the people. It was a poem about animals, and people, and language. Tu-Swift, like all the Veritas, had memorized it at an early age. He knew the prose version as well. As She Who Saves Many Lives sung the ancient song, one of the braves, Stone Chipper, used sign language to portray the same story. Perhaps from working with stone, he looked like stone. The muscles of his chest, shoulders and arms writhed as he moved from position to position. It had been hard for Tu-Swift to follow as a child.

Now, in his half-dream state, Tu-Swift could slow the playing of the memory and the memory became the dream. He could see the positions that Stone Chipper used. Then, an odd thing happened (as they are wont to do in dreams). The arms of Stone Chipper became sticks. And every time that he moved them into a new position, he heard the voice of She Who Saves Many Lives saying the sounds of the animals. 

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The sounds. Did we steal them? Did we borrow them? How can we steal them? The snake still hisses. The owl still hoots. The bee still buzzes. And before his internal eyes, Tu-Swift saw the snake and the owl and a swarm of buzzing bees all dancing and playing together. Now, they lined up and came toward him. First, the snake flew toward his face hissing – ‘sssssss.’ Just as it reached him, it opened its mouth, sharp fangs, forked tongue, and then the snake veered off. The hoot owl hooted and stretched for Tu-Swift, talons first. The hooting sound became louder and louder: ‘ooooOOOO OOOO!’ But the owl also caromed away. Now, the swarm of bees zipped toward him buzzing all the while. Suddenly, one of the girls Tu-Swift fancied from home, Sooz, appeared before him smiling. Except now she had cat eyes. She said her name, ‘Sooz’,  and nodded to him just as she had when they first met. Now, she did something odd. She waved her right arm into the crook of her left elbow making the sign for snake; then, she quickly turned her hands outward making them into the claws that signified owl and then her fingertips all moved nervously like a swarm of buzzing bees. Now, she flew away from him and as she disappeared into a bright green cloud, she said, “Remember me. Remember Sooz.” 

Tu-Swift muttered in his sleep, “I will Sooz. I will.” 

Shadow Walker chuckled to himself. He looked down to see the fluttering eyes of Tu-Swift who obviously walked now in the shadow world of dreams. He recalled some of the times that Many Paths and Shadow Walker had spoken of each other’s dreams. He had been dreaming of her, in fact, when something inside him told him it was time for him to keep watch and let Tu-Swift sleep. 

Shadow Walker again turned his thought to the girl with the eyes like a cat. She seemed to be telling the truth even though her tale was amazing, if true. Still, she was definitely holding something back. There was something important that she had not yet told them, but he wasn’t sure what it was. Possibly, she herself had done something against the ways of the Veritas. Although…how could she help it if she were stolen as a child? 

Shadow Walker now heard Tu-Swift muttering again, first about drumming, and Cat Eyes, and language. Like all dream mutterings, it made little sense. He would ask him about it upon wakening. Shadow Walker had found that dreams were easily recalled if they were remembered upon waking but seldom recalled if one began the chores of the day. 

Meanwhile, quite oblivious to Shadow Walker, Tu-Swift now found himself dreaming of sitting astride a horse, a giant golden horse. He held ropes in his hands and he could control the horse via these ropes. Jaccim Nohan trotted alongside on another horse and spoke to him in Veritas. They now seemed friends, but that was not surprising in the dream world. Jaccim’s body turned into sticks of firewood, but he continued to talk…although…it wasn’t exactly talking. He was using his stick limbs to form sign language. Yet, Tu-Swift heard it as words spoken in the voice of Jaccim but the words were not ROI but Veritas. He listened to the words and kicked the giant horse firmly but not cruelly and lightly whipped the reins. The giant horse took off galloping up a hill, leapt up into the sky and Tu-Swift was flying atop his horse — sailing through the sky effortlessly though the steady drumming hooves continued even louder than before. 

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Now, Tu-Swift had fallen off his horse into a pit of giant snakes – squeeze snakes – who were going to squeeze him to death. Where was his horse? He tried to slide the snakes off of his arms but they wouldn’t go. They could speak his name! “Tu-Swift! Tu-Swift! Wake up!”  

Tu-Swift shook his head and came awake. Shadow Walker was shaking him. “Wake up! Wake up! War drums. We must go. Now. Wake up!” 

“What? Whose war drums?” Tu-Swift tried to focus but it was difficult. 

Shadow Walker took Tu-Swift’s head in his hands and stared into his vacant eyes. “I don’t know. But it isn’t Veritas! Wake! We must go!” 

At last, Tu-Swift returned to this world and he saw Shadow Walker quickly putting their things together for a quick journey. “What of Cat Eyes and the others?” 

Shadow Walker sighed. “I think we may have to leave them here. Or at least Jaccim. He is too hurt to travel quickly.”

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———————————-

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Sci-Fi Scenarios about the Future of AI

Pattern Language for Teamwork and Cooperation: Overview

A Story of Early Work in Human Computer Interaction

The Creation Myth of the Veritas

The Myths of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy

The Myths of the Veritas: The Second Book

Where Does Your Loyalty Lie?

What About the Butter Dish?

You Bet Your Life

The Game

Dick-Taters

Labelism

Absolute is not Just a Vodka

Poker Chip

The Ailing King of Agitate

Roar, Ocean, Roar

Imagine All the People…

The Dance of Billions

An Open Sore From Hell

Cats Eyes Shows her Gift

28 Saturday Mar 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, psychology, Uncategorized, Veritas

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fiction, leadership, learning, legends, myths, peace, politics, ROI, stories, strategy, tactics, trust, truth, Veritas, war, writing

Shadow Walker sighed and grimaced and ground his teeth. The more he considered the words of Cat Eyes, the angrier he made himself. Meanwhile, Jaccim drew back, afraid now that his “healer” was about to destroy him instead. The women drew back as well, feeling the escalation of tension. 

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Tu-Swift spoke next. “What is wrong, Shadow Walker? I think you are scaring our patient. And everyone, actually.”

Shadow Walker looked back over his shoulder at Tu-Swift. “Yes. I will talk no more of this right now, but I do want to learn more about — many things. But first, let me finish administering these cooling herbs.” 

Jaccim soon abated his whimpering and seemed to sleep. A large part of Shadow Walker’s brain remained suspicious. He still wasn’t sure he believed the story of Cat Eyes, but if there were another branch of the Veritas, it would extremely desirable to make contact. He motioned everyone to draw away from the sleeping ROI. He gestured for them to sit in a small circle. They obeyed without question and it seemed to Shadow Walker that their immediate compliance wasn’t just because he was a man with a killing sword. It seemed as though these women … expected to obey. He chuckled as he thought about Many Paths or She Who Saves Many Lives “obeying” someone. Well, maybe he could work this to his advantage, he thought. 

Shadow Path looked to Cat Eyes, “Do the other women also speak Veritas?” 

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Cat Eyes shook her head. “No, not really. We’ve all come from different places. We’ve taught each other a few words of each other’s language, but they won’t understand you if you speak that fast. If you ask me to, I can speak what you say in ROI. We all speak that. All of us were stolen at an early age for … well, as I said, as slaves.” 

Shadow Walker shook his head. “I still don’t see. Why steal children? You have to feed them for years before they can do useful work.” 

Cat Eyes stared at Shadow Walker for a long while. Her lip trembled and it seemed to Shadow Walker that she now looked through him to another place and another time. At last, she said, “’Early taken; easily shaken; slaves will see: it is their destiny’. That’s not a very good translation, but the ROI, and the Z-LOTZ as well, have such a saying. It means that you steal a child early and train them to be a slave and they won’t expect anything different. If you steal a grown man or woman, they will sabotage you when they can, possibly even murder you in your sleep. You have no such danger if you steal a child young enough.”

Shadow Walker glanced at Tu-Swift whose jaw had fallen open. At last, he spoke. “Can this be true? They steal children young just so they can … train them to be slaves with no spirit?” 

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Cat Eyes nodded. “Yes, I’m afraid that is their reasoning. It does’t always work, by the way. Sometimes, even small children learn how to rebel in small ways. But the ROI and Z-LOTZ believe in the wisdom of stealing small children. In fact, it’s even one of the sayings in … well, in this gift I have. Please don’t ask me about how I obtained it, but I wanted to show it to you. I don’t quite understand it, but I think it’s important.” She pointed to a small bag nearby. “Can I show you?” 

“This is not a weapon, I take it?” asked Shadow Walker. 

Cat Eyes laughed a bit. “No, it’s not a weapon. At least, I don’t see how it can be such. But I do not totally understand it.” She strode off a few feet, rummaged through her bag, and brought out a smaller bag which she brought over the circle. From within the smaller bag, she took out a large skin with many markings on it. There were also two smaller skins, also with many markings. In addition to markings, there were several nicely made pictures of different animals. Several small stones also fell out. 

Shadow Walker frowned. He glanced at the others. No-one seemed to understand. “What is this?” 

Cat Eyes shook her head. “I don’t really know. But it is used by the children of the Z-LOTZ to learn ROI and by the ROI to learn Z-LOTZ. I have seen them use this and when they point at this mark, for example, they almost always say the same thing which is not a word but only a part of a word.”

Tu-Swift tilted his head to one side and looked at Cat Eyes. She did have rather intriguing green eyes. “Part of a word? What do you mean?” 

Cat Eyes replied, “You know the creation myth, of course?” 

Tu-Swift humpfed. “Of course!” 

Cat Eyes nodded. “So, you recall the part about taking sounds from different animals. The ‘z’ from the bee and so on. The ‘z’ of the bee is what I mean by part of a word. It doesn’t mean anything till it’s put together with the sounds of other animals or things.” 

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Tu-Swift bent over the markings on the large skin and stared at them in more detail. “What on earth are these drawings of? They all look like firewood that’s been dropped at odd angles. What is this a picture of?” He pointed to one of the many marks.

“I really don’t know, Tu-Swift. I’m really sorry. I was a slave. My job…one of my jobs… was to watch the children of one of the priests of the Z-LOTZ. I watched them play and every so often my master would come in and watch as well. He seemed very pleased when his children would point to these markings and say parts of words. It was one of the most puzzling things I saw in the giant center place of the Z-LOTZ and that was indeed a place of many puzzling things.”

Shadow Walker then said, “Who are these Z-LOTZ and where are they? A giant center place? What do you mean by that?” 

Cat Eyes had been trying to swat away the constant droning questions from her two female friends, but she could ignore them no longer. She quickly spoke in ROI, summarizing for them the conversation thus far. Then, she turned back to Shadow Walker. 

“If our Center Place over Snow Mountain is an acorn, this village you burned down is a seedling. But the Center Place of the Z-LOTZ is a full-sized oak of the forest. I never saw all of it. There is a wall to keep all the slaves inside so we could not escape. It is not too far from here. Perhaps two or three day’s ride.” 

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Tu-Swift and Shadow Walker asked two different questions at the same time. 

Tu-Swift: “Have you ridden a horse?”

Shadow Walker: “Why were you there?”

Cat Eyes looked at one and then the other. “Let me answer Tu-Swift’s question first as it is much easier. No. I never really controlled a horse. I have been tied onto a horse. It is not fun. As for…”

Tu-Swift cut in, “Me too! I agree! I was bruised.” 

Cat Eyes nodded. “Yes. I don’t remember much about how I felt after they stole me. I mean, in terms of bruises. But I was older when the ROI took me to a Z-LOTZ priest for … well, that’s where I found this — which might be a game. I was there to watch smaller children and … learn other things.” 

Shadow Walker could feel that Cat Eyes knew more but something about her time there was deeply troubling. “What can you tell us about the Z-LOTZ and the ROI?” 

Cat Eyes responded, “They have an alliance but they are quite different people. As different from each other as they are from the Veritas — except that both are quite cruel people. I don’t recall a lot from the time before I was stolen, but I know we Veritas were kind people. And you seem kind. The ROI only care about doing everything quickly and making a lot of something. They mainly steal children for the Z-LOTZ. Some, like the three of us, have been used as slaves here as well, usually after…after a time with the Z-LOTZ. The Z-LOTZ — they have elaborate rituals and feasts. They have elaborate myths that everyone is required to repeat word for word. And everyone is supposed to believe them. So far as I can tell, the actual priests of the Z-LOTZ don’t really believe any of them. When my master had other priests and their wives over for feasts, they joked about how they used these myths to control the people. I think, in their view, it wasn’t just the stolen children who were slaves. Everyone was.”

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Tu-Swift listened to this with ever-widening eyes. He found Cat Eyes to be fascinating and believed every word that she uttered. Shadow Walker still had his doubts. 

“If you were a slave, how did you come to find out so much?” asked Shadow Walker.

Cat Eyes frowned. She appeared to be taking this question seriously. At last she said, “I think I found out so much because they treated me as a slave. They didn’t actually think of me as a real person. As for the Z-LOTZ, I also don’t think they realized how much I understood their language. I had already learned a little of their language before I was sent there. The ROI don’t really talk all that much. They rely a lot on sign language — which is not that different from the Veritas. You were able to make yourself understood just now when you convinced them about the medicine.” She paused, and added, “I may be good at learning languages? I don’t know. But some of us — we did things — bad things, I guess. To get back at them. Some of the slaves though.” Here Cat Eyes paused, bit her lip, and a small tear appeared at the corner of her eye. “Some did not recall anything about their homes and they thought…they thought being a slave was just what they were supposed to do. But I remembered that not everyone is cruel. My people…our people were not cruel.” 

As she had said all this in Veritas, the other two women began pelting her with questions in ROI so she turned to them and quickly explained that she was just telling what she knew about the ROI and the Z-LOTZ. 

Then, Cat Eyes turned back and smiled at Tu-Swift. “I am glad you didn’t … I am glad you got rescued, even if you had to burn down our village to do it. When you appeared and I heard some words of Veritas, it gave me hope again.” 

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Shadow Walker shook his head. “I need to say one thing. We did not burn down this village. The ROI did that themselves! They meant to burn our small rescue party up with fire arrows. They shot them behind us into the dry grass and the wind blew the fire toward us and the fire nearly killed us all. I am still not sure whether or not all of the others in our party escaped. But we outran the fire, though we could not see very well as we ran and both Tu-Swift and I were injured. But the fire kept spreading into the forest and on to the village. We don’t use fire arrows. Only the ROI do that. As we know from the Legend of the Orange Man, fire, like hatred, is hard to control, once unleashed.”

Cat Eyes nodded. “I know. That is why…I am not proud of all the things I did against the Z-LOTZ and the ROI. I was only a child. There were so many of them. I could not fight them in the normal way. I used … other methods. Poisons for one. My mother was a medicine woman and I already knew things that she began to teach me when I was very young. I didn’t kill anyone. But I made many of them just slightly sick in some way. Just enough that they would not suspect poison. Sometimes, I would weaken their walls.  And a few times, I put small holes in buckets so some grain would seep out as they carried it thus making a path for the rats to follow to their pantries. I put other irritants in their clothing. I taught some others to do the same. We had to be very careful. But they — we never showed our hatred outwardly. They thought of us…they didn’t really think of us as people and therefore not as enemies from within capable of doing damage. But damage — we did do damage. Anyway, what now? You said some of your party are yet unaccounted for?” 

Shadow Walker found her story amazing, but he was still not convinced. He glanced at Tu-Swift and could see that he, at least, believed every word. 

Shadow Walker said at last, “Thank you for sharing your story. I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but Tu-Swift and I need to hold our own small council for a time. I need to go above and do a more thorough search to make sure there are no other ROI around.”

Cat Eyes looked him in the eyes. “Yes. I think most of the ROI escaped and were heading to the giant Center Place of the Z-LOTZ. We hid out here so we wouldn’t be given once again as slaves. I don’t think there are any left behind as guards. Is there anything up there left to guard? It seemed the entire village was about to be destroyed.”

Shadow Walker looked at her face which seemed so open and honest. “Indeed, there is not much left of your village. Nor have the horses returned. But I did meet one ROI on the way here. He tried to kill me — with this — (here he flicked the newly acquired sword) and I was very lucky to have escaped with my life. I have seen no sign of others — yet. One cannot be too careful. We will go and take a look. And, we need to decide on our next steps. We will guard you and search for food. We will talk again when the sun rises.” Shadow Walker stood, bowed, and began to back toward the stairs. 

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Cat Eyes bowed back to Shadow Walker and Tu-Swift. “I understand. You would be safer down here I should think. But you do not yet know me well enough to trust me.”

“I trust you!” said Tu-Swift. 

Shadow Walker looked into Cat Eyes. “I mostly trust you. But it’s a lot to take in. We might be safer down here, but is there any other way in or out of this cellar?” 

Cat Eyes shook her head. “No, just those stairs.”

Shadow Walker said, “Well, it would be easy to move heavy things from the armory across the trap-door and make it quite impossible for any of us to leave. We would be trapped down here to slowly die of hunger and thirst.” 

Cat Eyes nodded. “Yes. But maybe then we should all leave? Except, I don’t think Jaccim is well enough. Maybe, in the morning, he will be recovered enough to travel.”

Shadow Walker said, “Yes. We will — do you think you can lend me all this until morning? I would like to contemplate this more.” He gestured at the marked skins. 

Cat Eyes nodded solemnly. “Yes. I hope you can make more sense of it than I could.” She quickly gathered up the skins and stones and put them back in the small bag which she handed to Tu-Swift. She looked him directly in the eyes now, “Sweet dreams. I will see you in the morning. But before you go, do you mind if I take a look at your knee, Tu-Swift?”

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Tu-Swift assented and she began to feel his knee and his entire leg. She massaged it gently and at one point not so gently. Tu-Swift cried out suddenly and Shadow Walker raised his sword. Without taking her eyes off Tu-Swift she addressed Shadow Walker. “I am not going to hurt Tu-Swift. I think his knee will feel better in the morning though. You go and ‘guard us’ as you put it. We will reconvene in the morning if you like. Hopefully, you will not pull heavy things over the trap door and trap us in here to starve slowly.” She then looked up at Shadow Walker and smiled at him. 

Shadow Walker looked at her and said, “No, we will not trap you in here. I did think of that when we first came here, but no.” 

Tu-Swift thanked Cat Eyes, for his knee did feel less … misplaced. Cat Eyes smiled back and again said, “Sweet Dreams.” 

Tu-Swift muttered something and followed Shadow Walker up the stairs. They pulled the heavy trap door over the opening and sat on the ground. Tu-Swift immediately took out the marked skins and the stones and begin looking at them intently. Tu-Swift glanced up to ask Shadow Walker a question but he could see that Shadow Walker felt exhausted. Tu-Swift offered to keep first watch and looked at the marks. 

Hours later, when the Starry Hunter was overhead, Shadow Walker awoke and said he would stand watch for a while so that Tu-Swift might sleep.

Tu-Swift immediately fell into a deep sleep and began a strange and wondrous dream.

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The Myths of the Veritas, Book One

The Myths of the Veritas, Book Two

The Creation Myth of the Veritas 

The Aging King of Agitate

Dick-Taters

Finding the Mustard

What about the Butter Dish?

Absolute is not Just a Vodka

Poker Chip

My Cousin Bobby

A Query on Quislings

 

The Eyes of the Cat (MOTV)

26 Thursday Mar 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, Uncategorized, Veritas

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

IMG_3122—————————————————

The Myths of the Veritas: Book One.

The Myths of the Veritas: Book Two.

How Social Media Might Exaggerate Division. 

City Living vs. Country Living. 

Author Page on Amazon

Where Does Your Loyalty Lie? 

My Cousin Bobby

What About the Butter Dish?

The Ailing King of Agitate

The Truth Train

Absolute is not Just a Vodka

Poker Chips

The Con Con’s Special Friend

A Query on Quislings

Dick-Taters

The Game

Roar, Ocean, Roar

The Doors of Mystery

21 Saturday Mar 2026

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

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“What an amazing sunset,” Fleet-of-Foot said to no-one in particular. His companions, Hudah Salah, Easy Tears, and Day Nah sat close by. 

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Easy Tears noticed that Hudah Salah, who had previously said very little had become much more talkative since their escape from the fire — and her separation from Lion Slayer. Here she was again: “Perhaps the fire in some way joins up with the fire of the sunset. Then, he shines more brilliantly than ever.” 

Easy Tears listened carefully to Hudah Salah, just as she did to everyone in her own tribe. “That’s an interesting possibility, Hudah. Let us think on that.” 

{Translator’s Note}: And, unlike our more “civilized” society, where everyone is judged on being able to respond immediately with arguments carefully crafted to push people into one of two predefined camps, what Easy Tears actually did was the following: She allowed herself to think. She did not try to dissect the idea, nor prove it, nor disprove it. She let the idea loose in the archives of her mind. Easy Tears, in particular, did not like to put up walls either between herself and others or within her own memory archives. There was no “Restricted” area. The idea could play around in there as long as it liked. What was the hurry? Their bodies all needed restitution and traveling by night is not always a good way to make things quicker. And, now they were all enjoying the sunset. 

Of course, unlike the Veritas, your translator was brought up in a world where speed is all and if you can’t get your next version of software out the door yesterday, you can go out the exit door for good. So, when I describe things, I tend to phrase things in a much more simplistic fashion than what actually went on in the minds of the Veritas, as best we can tell from the burgeoning field of statistically inferential macro-psycholinguistics. It would be helpful then for you, the reader, to remember that my translations will tend to reflect my own modernistic blinders – and yours. But let’s get back to finding out whether these folks are going to get back to the center place of the Veritas alive and tell Many Paths, their leader, what they have learned about The People Who Steal Children. 

As Easy Tears allowed the idea to roam freely, she did not have to “watch” the idea or “be careful” where it might lead. So, she could just sit back and watch the sunset. The idea conjured a trumpet that sang a song about fire. Most of the various artifacts, people, ideas, places, in the mind of Easy Tears paid little attention to this particular tune. A few however, had their say. Easy Tears recalled how hard it had been to see when they were running through fire. Even when the flames were not an issue, the smoke made it hard to see. So smoke interacted with sight. 

Another memory heard the tune and danced to it. Easy Eyes had been a small child, but one who had already revealed her eye for beauty and design. Everyone who wished to, was encouraged by the Veritas to share designs for patterns on both the autumnal and vernal equinoxes. She had created several ideas in her head and one in particular had caught her eye. That would be the one! She worked in secret on her full scale project and as it neared completion, she became more and more disconcerted. The design no longer seemed a thing of real beauty. She recreated the small scale version and it still held exquisite beauty and balance. What, she wondered, was going on? She had gone back to her larger design and it appeared empty and bland. So, the size of something could even change its nature. She had added additional elements to the large scale design and had, in fact, received much praise for her design. This was sincere praise, not just pat-the-sweet-little-girl-on-the-top-of-the-head praise. And, she knew it. So, smoke rises and spreads and becomes more sparse. 

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Easy Tears related these awakened memories to the group and Hudah Salah translated for Day-Nah. 

Fleet-of-Foot, though not quite so open as Easy Tears, also allowed these words and memories free access to his own experience. “For some reason that I cannot explain, it reminds me of skipping stones on a creek or a pond. You want stones that are as round and flat as possible. But, the size of the stones proves crucial too. If a stone is too small, even if it’s flat, it will curve in the air and slice right into the water too steeply. If the stone is too large, even if well made, you cannot throw it fast enough and it will only skip a few times. So, here too, the behavior depends on the shape, or design, but also on the size. 

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“Yes,” added Hudah Salah, “in my experience size matters. And also speed. In our lands, much sand there is and one grain or two — this is nothing. But we have — you and Eagle Eyes — you saw such a storm, during your visit. Much sand coming fast – it can kill you. The nature of much is different from the nature of one or a few.” 

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Photo by Noelle Otto on Pexels.com

After a long pause, and when the sunset had faded from crimson all the way to gray ash, Easy Tears said, “We think it may be the case that something about the nature of much smoke together on the ground to be different than much smoke not together high in the air. But sunsets vary so much. We must ask to join with the wisdom of others to decide. Let us sleep. I will keep first watch.” 

The dawn also proved visually stupendous. The foursome broke camp and continued their journey even before the color reached its peak. They saw no sign of their friends nor, thankfully, of the People Who Steal Children. They did see horse hoof marks and that kept them on the alert. 

Occasionally, they returned to the topic of the beautiful sunsets and sunrises and whether it was related to the fire. 

Hudah Salah remarked, “In the heat of the summer, it seems as though the sun actually pushes you down, as though the light is heavy.” 

Fleet-of-Foot turned back to look at Hudah. He smiled at her. An image of them together flickered through his mind. Then, the same idea stole into his mind in words. After all, he thought, life must go on. If Eagle Eyes and Lion Slayer are both dead…. Or, perhaps, they just decided to go off together? How could they have just disappeared? We were all running together. Maybe they’re sick of all this fighting. That’s ridiculous. I know she’s okay and I know we will be together. Feed the good wolf; feed the good wolf he reminded himself. 

Easy Tears spoke. “I have a feeling it has something to do with light that reflects or the light that isn’t there.”

Now, Fleet-of-Foot was amazed at Easy Tears. “Light that isn’t there?” 

Easy Tears, motioned to Fleet-of-Foot to come closer. “Look at the bare ground over there. What do you see?”

“Many things. You mean, your shadow?” 

“Yes, Fleet-of-Foot, my shadow. It is lack of light. What color does it appear?” 

Fleet-of-Foot frowned. “Color? No color. Well, I suppose it looks a little bit blue compared with what is around it.”

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Hudah Salah broke in, “Oh, yes, it is blue. It can be quite obvious in the desert. The sun is yellow but the not-sun is blue.” 

Fleet-of-Foot considered. “I see what you mean. But, I’m not sure…”

Easy Tears pointed to the other side of her, “Now, look over there. What do you see?” 

Fleet-of-Foot shrugged his shoulders. “Not shadow?”

Easy Tears laughed. “Don’t guess! Look! And keep moving. My shadows will come with me!” 

Fleet-of-Foot shook his head, frowned, and took another look as he strode alongside. At last he said, “Well, to tell you the truth, you have another shadow on that side but it’s vague and a bit greenish.” 

Easy Tears continued. “Yes. You see those bright red sunrise clouds high in the sky? There is shadow from the light of them as well. 

They strode on silently for a time. 

Fleet-of-Foot said, “You are truly amazing to have ever noticed that!” 

Easy Tears laughed. “Oh, I didn’t see it. I lived for years and never noticed it. Eagle Eyes pointed it out to me. She truly is amazing! Haven’t you noticed?” 

Fleet-of-Foot blushed and hoped the others attributed it to the high red clouds. He cleared his throat and mumbled, “Yes, of course.” 

They continued all day with few breaks. At last they found themselves on the path they had taken on the way out. A few hours later, they were at the same odd door that stymied them for a time on the way in. They had intentionally left it closed in the hope of thwarting what they assumed would be a large group of the People Who Steal Children riding on horseback. Now, their way was blocked by a large heavy door that six of them had had difficulty with. How could they open it with only three adults and a small child. The alternative was to try to find another route but nothing obvious had presented itself. 

The three of them pushed and pulled to no avail. After some minutes, they managed to move it perhaps half an inch. Then it stopped and further effort proved fruitless. The three sat down heavily and looked at each other, trying to catch their breath. They looked around and realized that none of them knew where Day-Nah had gone. 

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Fleet-of-Foot called out, “Day-Nah!” 

“Day-Nah. Here. Help me.” 

Fleet-of-Foot cautiously approached the voice and soon saw Day-Nah pulling at something. Fleet-of-Foot soon saw that it was a thick rod of the same stuff that the door itself was made of. 

Fleet-of-Foot was amazed and wanted to learn more. “Where? Where did this come from? What place?” 

Day-Nah stared at him uncomprehendingly. Fleet-of-Foot thought back to his time among the Nomads of the South. Suddenly, the word sprang to mind. 

As soon as he said it, Day-Nah’s face brightened and he ran over to a nearby hollow log. Fleet-of-Foot thought it an odd place to hide a club, but it seemed to be a good club despite its odd shape and long length. It was made of this hard, heavy material and he was happy to have it. But he could not use it to break down the door. It was made of the same stuff and way too thick to be destroyed with a club. 

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Fleet-of-Foot returned to Easy Tears and Hudah Salam and showed them the club. Waving it slightly, he said, “This may prove useful should we encounter the People Who Steal Children.” 

Hudah Salam looked at him and smiled. She walked directly toward him and for a moment, he thought she might kiss him! 

But it was not to be. She merely, took the “club” from him and walked over to the door. She put one end into the small slit and put both hands on the other end. Then, she braced her feet and pulled backwards. The door moved! 

Fleet-of-Foot laughed and shook his head. “Oh! How not fleet-of-thought I am!” 

His friends laughed too. Easy Tears glanced at him and smiled. “I didn’t see it either. But I suspect Eagle Eyes would have. She’s good at that kind of thing.” 

Fleet-of-Foot smiled. He knew exactly what Easy Tears had meant by ‘that kind of thing’ though there was really no word for it. But there should be, he thought and they pitched in and quickly moved the door. 

On toward the Center Place of the Veritas they strode. After a few moments, Fleet-of-Foot waved the lever and said, “Well, it also makes a good club.” All of them laughed for it seemed to them at the time that the worst was over. 

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Author’s Page on Amazon

The Pros and Cons of AI

Introduction to a Pattern Language for Collaboration and Teamwork

The Creation Myth of the Veritas

The Orange Man

The Beginning of the Tales of the Veritas 

The Beginning of Book Two

Bohm Dialogue

The Forgotten Field

The Dance of Billions

Roar, Ocean, Roar

We Won the War! We Won the War!

Who Won the War?

Guernica

The Walkabout Diaries: Sunsets

Peace

Too Many Tu-Swifts?

10 Tuesday Mar 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, creativity, psychology, story, Uncategorized, Veritas

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coping, dissociative state, dreams, fables, fantasy, fiction, gratitude, hope, leadership, legends, myths, psychology, short story, stories, strategy, truth, Tu-Swift, Veritas, writing

{Translator’s Note}: Sometimes, when one finds oneself in an emergency room, they ask you to rate your pain on a ten point scale. It seems that the Veritas had quite a rich and varied vocabulary for pain — and for pleasure. Although it is clear that the Veritas could count (at least that; though the academic debates are raging now about how they could have made the astronomical predictions that they apparently made without advanced mathematics), they would have found the concept of “rating” pain or pleasure bizarre. Even in my own childhood, the idea of rating something as complex as a movie (let alone a human being!) on a numerical scale would have seemed preposterous. As for the Veritas, precisely because they have so many dimensions and nuances of pain, there are not very many instances of any particular token. So, what follows is, as always, my best effort attempt to describe the pain of Tu-Swift. 

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Tu-Swift literally forgot who he was; or, more precisely, Tu-Swift trifurcated. The Tu-Swift that he considered to be him found himself embedded in stickiness, as though he were a hapless bug caught in the web of an onrushing horror of hairy legs and giant fangs. Yet, the more he struggled, the more entrapped he became. He could sense but not really see the spider. He could not even control his eyes. An invisible force focused them on the scene ahead where two other versions of Tu-Swift struggled with each other. 

Tu-Swift (the observer) felt a surge of pride at the image on the right. He appeared taller, stronger, prouder looking than he had ever remembered feeling. But despite the outward beauty, something was wrong here. Instead of being connected to life in general and the Veritas in particular, he felt himself to be “it” – the only thing that mattered. From that odd perspective, he didn’t have to “know” how things worked and how to solve problems. He only had to tell a convincing story convincingly — so convincingly that people would mistake it for the truth. He felt strong when he looked at this shadowy reflection of himself; strong, and a little ashamed. He felt ashamed because he recognized that that had been pretty much how he saw the world when he was yet a toddler. Still, it was tempting. In a way, it would be so much simpler never having to know what is actually true; never having to take the needs of others into consideration.

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On the left, the Tu-Swift avatar looked small and somehow — broken. This version of himself made him feel weak and powerless. It (he) sat cross-legged on the grass and petulantly broke blades off. Tu-Swift spoke to the boy. “Get up! Get up!” 

The boy on the left spoke back. “I can’t. It’s too much effort. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Look!”

The boy pointed at something behind Tu-Swift. He struggled mightily to turn to see what it was, but he could not turn his head. But he could feel the searing heat of the spider. He could only stare at the two boys before him and suddenly, he saw the boys disappear into a web of memories. He did not have to be exactly like the boy on the right or exactly like the boy on the left. He could pick and choose the situations when he wanted to be one or the other, but he was in no way limited to those two boys. He could pick and choose from everyone he ever met. Why had he not seen this before? It was like choosing a mask or garb for a ritual dance. Only … it need not be superficial. Thinking like Many Paths — that was more than putting on a mask. I think better with her.

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He grabbed what he wanted from each of the two boys and immediately felt the searing heat of the monster that burned and blackened everything before it. Tu-Swift began rolling. His pain changed from an ember of deeply burning ruby red to a thunderstorm of flashing blue light and every bolt struck deep into the knee of Tu-Swift. Each bolt exploded outward in further flashes of blue so that, for a moment, his entire left leg erupted in blue pain. 

After a few such rolls, Tu-Swift felt the freezing cold of rushing water. It stung and made him catch his breath, but it felt wonderful and somehow safe. But cold. What’s wrong with my knee, he asked himself. “Where is everyone?” he said aloud. His thoughts now began to once again unravel as he muttered to himself.  

“Need … to take … inventory. Right knee. What is wrong with you, knee?” Tu-Swift, in his altered state, half expected he knew and answered himself back. “But something … something is very wrong. I fell. Need shelter.”

Near the river bank, on one side, lay hard rock cliffs. Tu-Swift managed to crawl into a cleft in such a cliff. His self once more disintegrated.  

photography of flowing plunge waterfall

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This time, instead of seeing two other versions of Tu-Swift, he saw everyone he had ever encountered, or at least, that is how it seemed. Just as he had always been able to hear the voice of Many Paths offering apt advice, he now realized that he could get advice from anyone in the tribe; or those of other tribes; even from the People Who Steal Children.

Tu-Swift imagined the voice of Shadow Walker calling out and showing him how to speak with drums or the sounds of birds. Those turned out to be important skills and he was filled with gratitude for Shadow Walker. And, he imagined he could hear the memory of Hudah Salah also calling out his name with her strange accent. It was exciting to think that people could speak so that only some might understand. Of course, he had been told that there were other tongues besides that spoken by the Veritas people. But it wasn’t until he had really heard such voices that he understood how important it could be to know other languages. Now, it was real and he was filled with gratitude for Hudah Salah for opening his eyes. 

Tu-Swift realized that his own eyes were extremely tired. And he mentally waved farewell to the multitude of people out there ready to lend their knowledge to whatever task was at hand. He closed the eyes of every Tu-Swift he could and fell into a deep, unknowing sleep. 

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Author Page on Amazon

The Creation Myth of the Veritas

The Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

An Essay on Gratitude

Life Will Find a Way

Math Class: Who Are You?

After All

The Self-Made Man

Somewhere a Bird Cries

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

The Impossible

Is a Dream?

Imagination

Trees Die at the Edges

27 Friday Feb 2026

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

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creativity, despression, fantasy, fear, fiction, hope, innovation, leadership, learning, legends, life, myths, politics, psychology, stories, story, thinking, truth, writing

When Tu-Swift had awakened after his first day of stable duty, he initially thought that these people who stand atop horses must have beaten him. When he considered the matter, he realized it was simply that his body was not used to the particular work. That did not lessen the pain. 

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When he awoke after the second day of duty with the horses, however, he was even sorer and his hands were blistered. As he awoke, and the dim light shattered his night dreams, the physical pain stabbed most when he first began moving. He had long ago learned, as had all the Veritas, to put physical pain out of mind. He chose not to do this. Focusing on his physical pain helped fuel his resolve to escape this place and to take his small companion with him. The aches and burns also kept a deeper, darker pain at bay — the doubt that he would ever be rescued. 

He imagined the voice of his sister, Many Paths, encouraging him not to fill his belly with the first plausible hypothesis that came to mind. Yes, it was possible that the Veritas had been utterly destroyed in the surprise attack, but was it likely? He reminded himself that the Veritas had not only defeated the surprisingly numerous Cupiditas, but also withstood two potential enemies — the Nomads of the South and the Fierce and Formidable Warriors of the North without even fighting them. 

The Veritas might still be engaged in battle with the horse people. Or, they may be on their way to rescue him but it would take longer on foot. They might have already been here with a small party and seen that this compound is too heavily guarded for a small force. That seemed somewhat unlikely, but still possible. Surely, if they had gotten close, they would have signaled or queried him with the modified calls of birds. And, he would have responded to let them know he was here. The modified bird call language was not sufficiently nuanced for him to know how to warn them that there was another child here in need of rescue. 

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He silently thanked his tribe for all that they had taught him about survival. But Day-Nah was a problem. It wasn’t his “fault” that he was so young and small, nor that he knew so little of the language of the Veritas. While even Fleet of Foot could surely not outrun a horse on open ground, Tu-Swift felt he stood a good chance to outrun his pursuers if he could find the right kind of terrain. But Day-Nah? A better option for him would probably be to hide high in a tree or in a small hole until they gave up looking for him. Tu-Swift realized he knew little about these people who stand on horses and steal children. Day-Nah was not much use as a slave so perhaps they would give up on the search without much persistence. 

Three large, well-muscled men came to awaken the children and left them each a bowl of food. Soon, they were pushed and pulled out into the large open place with horses and foals again. The men gestured and made it clear that Tu-Swift should separate and catch more foals and tie them up. As they entered the clearing, Tu-Swift noticed that poison ivy vines hung heavy on the trees surrounding the paddock. 

He recalled the words of She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives when he had remarked to her a few summers ago about the poison ivy in his own village. The elder shaman had explained how trees needed each other to survive high winds and to kill off parasitic intruders such as poison ivy and boring insects. In the manner of such a teacher, she had gone on to say that it was the same with the Veritas. Each member of the tribe helped nurture and protect all the others.

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“Trees die at the edges. That is the way of it. And, so it is with us. A person alone in the vast world is much more at risk than the tribe,” she had pointed out.

At the time, he had take much comfort in her words. 

Today, however, a great sadness and despair threatened to overwhelm him because now he himself was a “tree at the edge.” 

A memory now flashed into his mind — a huge spider web that he and Shadow Walker had happened upon. Shadow Walker had invited him to observe with him for a time. The spider hung out at the very center of his web. Whenever a flying insect strayed into its web, it would rush to the bug, bite it, and wrap it with webbing. Once, however, it happened that two bugs hit the trapping web at the same instant. The spider rushed off to wrap up the larger one for later consumption. Spider then returned to the center. Spider seemed unable to remember where the second insect had landed. One by one, he carefully and methodically thrummed the strings, one by one. At last, one of the strings caused a renewed struggling by the insect. Instantly, the spider travelled up that spine of his string to the hapless bug, bit it, and prepared it for later consumption. Shadow Walker had questioned Tu-Swift who at last saw that the bug’s fear had caused it to give away its position and hastened its own death. 

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Shadow Walker waited until Tu-Swift had seen this before putting it into words. “Fear is natural when one is trapped. But we are humans. We can wrap our fear in our own thoughts for a time and hide it – and ourselves – until we find a way to escape. To further cement the point, Shadow Walker grabbed Tu-Swift by the wrist and held him tight. “Get loose!” 

Tu-Swift had tried to jerk his hand away. He pulled and tugged, but Shadow Walker was much stronger. It seemed hopeless. Then, he realized that Shadow Walker was encouraging him to think — not simply to react. He looked at his wrist and noticed that it was more of an oblong than a circle across. And Shadow Walker’s hand was not a completed circle but a circle with a gap. Rather than struggle, Tu-Swift had relaxed. He imagined sliding the edge of his wrist out through the slight opening where Shadow Walker’s thumb and fingertips came together. Tu-Swift imagined a swift jerk of his wrist through that opening. He forced himself to relax still further. Then…zip! He slipped his wrist out through the gap before Shadow Walker could react.  

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Fear could kill you. And calm thought could save you. Tu-Swift had learned this lessons well. 

Tu-Swift took deep breaths of the cool clean air. Even the horses smelled good to him as he breathed in their sweet odor. He looked around at all the life that thrived around him. None of it survived and thrived through sadness. Feeling sorry for oneself might be “justified” but it was not the path to survival. The path offering promise, the path of resolve spoke to his inner heart of courage. He would wrap his fear and sadness up for now so that these captors of kids could not see it. He would think instead.

He gestured to one of the three burly ones who accompanied Dah-Nah and Tu-Swift to give him a switch such as they all carried to whip the horses with. The man complied assuming that Tu-Swift wished to use the whip to help separate mare and foal. Instead, Tu-Swift used the handle of the switch to draw his plan quickly in the sandy soil outside the paddock. When he began, one of the men reached to take the switch away, mumbling some words in anger. Then, the men began talking to each other in their odd and unfathomable language. At last, they allowed him to continue his drawing.

He first made a drawing in the shape of the current paddock. Then, he showed an addition with many narrow quick turns. Now, he used his hand as a horse to show that his hand was too big to fit through these narrow passages. He reinforced this analogy by making sounds mimicking the horses and whinnying when his hand was “stuck.” He gently took one of Day-Nah’s hands in his and showed how the small boy’s hand would fit through these narrow passages. Then, he gestured out to the horses. He pointed to one of the nearby mares, a beautiful palomino. Again, he showed how his hand unable to get through the passage. Next, he pointed to her foal and used Dah-Nah’s hand to go through the narrow passage. Dah-Nah’s face lit up. He understood. Surely, the men would as well, he hoped. 

Original Masks by Sarah Morgan

Original Masks by Sarah Morgan

And, slowly, one by one, the men’s faces revealed that they all “got” Tu-Swift’s idea. They felt a little chagrin that they had not thought of such an obvious ploy themselves, but the ROI were a practical lot. If they found an idea that they could use, they used it. They did not reject it out of hand as the Z-Lotz might have done simply because they had not thought of it themselves. 

The men made it clear that the boys themselves were to construct this addition. The largest of the burly men pointed to a large set of cut planks that had already been cut to use for fence repairs.

Tu-Swift nodded enthusiastically. He returned to his drawing. He showed how he would keep the existing fence in place while they constructed the maze addition and a smaller place for the foals to gather. When all that was finished, they could remove the piece of fence that would prevent the foals from entering. 

Tu-Swift had transformed his fear and despair into a plan. He thought to himself, “Not all trees die at the edges. Not these two.” 

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Author Page on Amazon. 

The Winning Weekend Warrior focuses on strategy, tactics, and the ‘mental game’ for all sports including golf, tennis, baseball, and others. 

Turing’s Nightmares illustrates possible ethical issues around AI and robotics with 23 scenarios of the future. 

Fit in Bits suggests numerous ways for the ultra-busy to work more fun and exercise into daily activities such as sitting in meetings, walking to your car, shopping, traveling, playing with kids, etc. 

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

Life Will Find a Way

The Walkabout Diaries: Life Will Find a Way

Your Cage is Unlocked

Somewhere a Bird Cries

Wednesday

Dog Trainers

Tools of Thought

Fish have no Word for “Water”

All We Stand to Lose

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Myths of the Veritas: Stories, then Plans

13 Wednesday Oct 2021

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

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fiction, homecoming, legends, myths, stories, strategy, Veritas

There are some things whose memory we retain throughout our lifetime. Some remember their first look through a telescope or a microscope. Some remember their first taste of alcohol or coffee. Many remember their first kiss. All remember the first time they held their newborn baby and grandchild. So too, was it among the Veritas. 

Tree Vines and Gathers Acorns immediately recognized the voice of their daughter despite their many years apart. They began to run toward the sound, but when they came within sight of her, they stopped. The couple held hands, and stared at their daughter who had now grown into a young woman. 

Tree Vines thought of so many wasted years, but so many stories to tell and listen to. He would make it up to her — ever allowing her to be stolen in the first place. 

Gathers Acorns regretted never have had a chance to talk with her daughter about so many important things. And who had raised her exactly? And, what kind of a person was she? But she’s my daughter, she thought.  I want to hold her at long last. 

Cat Eyes bit her lip. She thought: Could these be my parents? I have a family? Why did they let me get stolen? Of course, they had no choice. Tu-Swift doesn’t hate Many Paths for letting them steal him. I shouldn’t be mad at them but at the Z-Lotz and the ROI. That’s who I’m really mad at. But I am mad at my parents as well. It’s crazy. I wish I could have talked with Tu-Swift before I met them so suddenly. That didn’t happen so…I do feel like hugging them though.

All this flashed through each person’s mind in a split second of awkwardness and indecision. Then, the three of them melted into one six-legged, six-armed goddess of love. There were tears of joy and there were tears of regret and there were tears of anger and frustration as well. 

Many Paths approached the reunited family holding hands with both Eagle Eyes and Shadow Walker. Soon, Many Paths noticed that the gaze of Eagle Eyes had shifted away from Family Together at Last to Trunk of Tree. She ran toward him and flung her arms around him. Many Paths noticed that Trunk of Tree smiled with true happiness. She was happy for him. She let out a little chuckle. 

Shadow Walker then smiled as well and tilted his head at Many Paths in a clear sign of query. The smile upon the face of Many Paths broadened. She rested her head on the shoulder of Shadow Walker. She spoke quietly so only he could hear. “I love you so much. I missed you. Among other things….” She paused and looked up at his large, warm & smiling eyes. “Among other things, I missed your wise counsel. I was just thinking how desperate I was to talk with you or Eagle Eyes or Tu-Swift. And, you were all gone. She Who Saves Many Lives is still sick and she’s asleep, so I didn’t want to disturb her. And, I’m not sure…well, sometimes she seems delirious. The other night in her sleep, she sat upright suddenly and said something like:

“It’s all happened before! This has all happened before!” 

I was about to start a conversation with her but she fell back down into a deep sleep. I mean what does that mean? So, I’m not sure I can trust her judgement right now. And everyone I really wanted to talk with was gone. And, now, you’re all back. And I don’t know … I know what I want to do. But there’s so much to do with the tribe. Can you wait a few hours while we deliberate?” 

“Wait for what?” Shadow Walker pretended not to have any idea what she was talking about. 

Many Paths simply hugged him tighter and said, “I must ask you this though. Are you all right? Did they harm you?”



Shadow Walker winced. He didn’t want to think about how he and Eagle Eyes had been ambushed so easily when they thought they were sneaking in unseen. “Not really. It’s no fun being in prison, but they were going to torture all of us. If it hadn’t been for Eagle Eyes, I’d be dead. She’d be dead. The parents of Cat Eyes would be dead. We really cannot thank her enough.”

Many Paths laughed. “Let’s let Trunk of Tree thank her first.” She smiled at him coquettishly.

Shadow Walker laughed with her for a polite period and then said, “Well, if they are going to have a private thanking session, then we … and well met, Trunk of Tree. Well met.” 

Trunk of Tree went straight to the point. “There is much to discuss and many people to thank. But right now, we must prepare for war.” 

Many Paths took on a serious tone as well. “I agree. We need to prepare for war — but not in such a way that it makes war more likely. We don’t know what the Z-Lotz will do. First, let us delve into what we have learned. Then, we may prepare more completely and thoughtfully. We must hear all the relevant stories first and then make plans.” 

Eagle Eyes, who had accompanied Trunk of Tree, said, “Don’t wait too long. But I don’t think we are in immediate danger. They seem to have lost their horses. And, I think they will be preoccupied for a time choosing their leader. I can’t tell how long, but the very people who would argue that Shadow Walker wasn’t a “real” king because he hadn’t by himself slain NUT-PI now face a situation in which no-one can claim to have killed NUT-PI or Shadow Walker. So, to regain legitimacy, they may well try to kill Shadow Walker, but they must first fight amongst themselves about who should do it. I think it will delay their plans. You see, none of the would-be kings wants to share the killing with any of the others.”

Many Paths shook her head and muttered, “What a lovely system. And I suppose no-one else gets hurt in the process?” 

Eagle Eyes and Shadow Walker exchanged glances. He spoke thus: “People — innocent people — do get hurt in the process. Of course. How could it be otherwise? NUT-PI, in his attempt to kill the eagles, instead killed several of the Z-Lotz. I’m sure he didn’t care, but I felt bad for them. That’s one reason — I hope I did the right thing — I destroyed the killing stick and then later, when I had a chance to take one or two, I took none. It may not have been … we have no idea how they work. I was afraid if we tried to take one apart to understand better how it works, we would have killed ourselves. Also, I remembered our “imagining exercise” where people pretended to have them to think about their uses. And two of our tribe were about to use the killing sticks over nothing. I mean over something so trivial that I cannot recall what it was. And, I guess that they don’t recall either. There is a reason that they are called “killing sticks.” Because that is what they do. Kill.”

Many Paths said, “I think we must continue to debate this, but not now. Now, we must focus on hearing the stories about the Z-Lotz and their likely tactics. And … but, Trunk of Tree, where did you come from? How did you get Tu-Swift and Cat Eyes?” 

“I discovered a very short path to the Veritas on the other side of the mountain. I was hunting deer and the deer led me to this place that was a narrow cleft and then, I was at their village and there was Tu-Swift and Eagle Eyes. These two are … well, they know more about bawks than anyone else! You should see it.” 

Tu-Swift, who had also joined the small group, said, “He means ‘books’ — it’s ‘books’ Trunk of Tree. Anyway, there is so much in those books, so many stories, no much information … and so much we still don’t understand. But this much we do understand. I have to tell you something. It is amazing and wonderful, but also … difficult. But we must understand the true story of how we got here before we plan what to do next. Do you agree?”

Many Paths shrugged. “I cannot disagree, at least not until I know more about what it is you’ve learned. What is it?” 

Tu-Swift took a giant sigh. He looked down at the ground for a moment and then right into the eyes of his sister, Many Paths. 

“This has all happened before.” 

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The Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

The Myths of the Veritas: The Forgotten Field

The Myths of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy

You Must Remember This

Ah Wilderness

The Forest 

The Psychology of Change: Children Teach

23 Friday Apr 2021

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

change, fiction, stories

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In thinking about the psychology of change, one possible approach is look at stories of psychological change. Any specific story may be premised on a thrilling but unrealistic process of change. On the other hand, if we find story after story that presents a particular set of circumstances conducive to change, it may signal that the stories are capturing something fundamental about at least one kind of change, or at the very least, they capture something about the way we believe change occurs. 

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As a psychologist, many of the movies that move me the most are ones wherein there is fundamental character change. Conversely, movies or shows whose protagonist(s) keep making the same mistakes over and over again to be frustrating. When it comes to character change, in movies, there seem to be several common variants.

Protagonist goes to (hick town, home town, foreign country, war, boot camp, school, etc.) — a novel environment and generally one that the protagonist initially misperceives and/or actively dislikes.

Hick town: Heart of Dixie

Home town: Sweet Home Alabama

Foreign country: Under the Tuscan Sun

War: Full Metal Jacket

Boot Camp: Stripes; Private Benjamin

School: Legally Blond; To Sir, with Love

Beauty Pageant: Miss Congeniality 

In many cases, a child is key to the psychological change of the adult. Perhaps you recognize some of these examples: 

Silas Marner.

A Christmas Carol. 

Finding Forrester. 

I am Sam. 

The Blind Side

The Magic of Belle Isle

Ana

Karate Kid

Matilda

In some cases, the agent of change may be a person with lower status; e.g., a servant as in East of Eden. In other cases, it can even be an animal as in The Call of the Wild. Sometimes, change occurs among multiple characters and from multiple sources as in The Sound of Music. Here, the children help change Maria, help change the Captain while Maria & the Captain also change each other. 

In many cases, the “change” is portrayed, not as purely the accretion of new skills, but as the re-emergence of something that was there all along but needed to be elicited. For instance, in The Magic of Belle Isle, Morgan Freeman is already an accomplished writer, but he hasn’t written anything for awhile, finding solace in a bottle instead. In attempting to help a young girl find her voice as a writer, he rediscovers his own. In many cases, as the mentor or teacher tries to teach a younger person, they often get back in touch with their own (earlier) self. 

Psychotherapy may be viewed as a kind of teaching as well. In Good Will Hunting, for instance, Robin Williams plays the part of therapist working with a brilliant but emotionally damaged young man played by Matt Damon. The therapist manages to open up the angry young man, but at the same time, the patient opens up the therapist to the possibility of having a relationship again. The patient does this by reflecting back to the therapist the very things the therapist is saying in order to open up the patient.  

We see something of a similar kind of process in Akeelah and the Bee. Here, the talented speller, Akeelah gains a tutor in spelling and he teaches her spelling (and many other things as well). But she also re-awakens in her tutor, passionately caring about life. 

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What do these stories seem to be telling us about change in adults? 

  1. For the adults, the change seems to be a re-awakening of something that is there, but hidden beneath defenses that have been erected to shield from pain. 
  2. The conditions for change occur because the adult teacher, to be effective, has to “open up a deep and honest channel of communication.” Though unintended, once that channel is opened, it is a two-way street. The teacher may well have opened up solely for the benefit of the student, but once open, they benefit as well. 
  3. The channel is not just informational; it is empathic; it is emotional. 
  4. Change is contagious. In Akeelah and the Bee, for instance, it isn’t only Akeelah and her tutor who change. So does Akeelah’s mother; so do some of the other kids in the spelling bee; indeed, Akeelah’s entire neighborhood joins in an effort to teach Akeelah. 
  5. Change is not monotonic. As people begin to change, they almost inevitably “backslide” at some point. Good Will Hunting, for instance, begins a relationship with a woman but then tries to sabotage the relationship because he’s terrified she will end it. 
  6. Effective change agents pay attention to what works for that particular person. Akeelah’s tutor, for example, notices that Akeelah uses rhythm when she’s trying to recall how a word is spelled. He doesn’t try to “talk her out of doing that” or “show her a better way.” Instead, he encourages her and introduces a skipping rope to make the rhythm even more of a “whole body” experience. In The Blind Side, the adoptive mother discovers that Michael Oher (a strong, talented athlete) is fiercely loyal and although his nature is gentle — and perhaps too gentle for the violence of football, by having him think of the ball carrier as someone in his family — someone he needs to protect, Michael becomes an extremely good blocker. 

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Other posts related to the “Psychology of Change.” 

The Update Problem

What about the butter dish?

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

Comes the Dawn

Roar, ocean, roar

The jewels of November

The most serious work

Ambition

The Impossible

Peace

Wilbur’s Story

Come back to the light

Who knew good grades are an aphrodisiac

The forest

The teeth of the shark

Essays on America: The Update Problem
What about the Butter Dish?
How the Nightingale Learned to Sing
Comes the Dawn
Roar, Ocean, Roar!
The Jewels of November
The Most Serious Work
Ambition!
The Impossible
Peace
Wilbur’s Story
Come Back to the Light
Who Knew Good Grades are an Aphrodisiac?
The Forest
The Teeth of the Shark
Essays on America: The Update Problem
What about the Butter Dish?
How the Nightingale Learned to Sing
Comes the Dawn
Roar, Ocean, Roar!
The Jewels of November
The Most Serious Work
Ambition!
The Impossible
Peace
Wilbur’s Story
Come Back to the Light
Who Knew Good Grades are an Aphrodisiac?
The Forest
The Teeth of the Shark

She Who Saves Many Lives

23 Thursday Jul 2020

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, COVID-19, family, health, politics, psychology, Uncategorized, Veritas

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

death, fiction, legends, life, myths, parable, stories, tales, tree, Veritas

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She Who Saves Many Lives heard a familiar voice, as though from far away. I am dreaming, she realized. It is Tu-Swift. I wonder what he wants. Oh, of course. He wants me to bring Suze back to life. But I cannot do that. He knows that. Such a lovely dream. I must return. Such peace. So many flowers. There is a field of flowers. Wild roses, pink and white form hedges around the perimeter. And such lovely blue lupins. The happy white daisies. The bright sunflowers. You must see how beautiful it all is, Tu-Swift. But of course, he sees no such thing. His friend just died. I must rise from the dream now and give him my love. It seems so … difficult … to awaken. It’s the fever. The red plague. Now Many Paths is talking too. What is she saying though? I must return to the dream. There, everything was easy…and beautiful. Understanding words is hard. Too hard. And understanding the meaning is harder still. And listening to the heart behind the meaning — the hope, the love, the fears — that is harder still. It is nearly time. Nearly time. But I must tell Many Paths something. And I must tell Tu-Swift something as well. Lids are such heavy things to lift. I never noticed that before. 

“Hello, Many Paths. Hello, Tu-Swift.” The old shaman sighed and thought: My voice sounds so weak. Just a few hours ago, or possibly a few days ago, I sounded strong. And, look at my old lady’s skin. A covering of tiny red mountains. That is not so pretty. 

Tu-Swift bent over her and said, “You’re awake! Good! Suze needs you! Many Paths cannot wake her! She needs a tonic from you or some magic or — I don’t know what! You must save her! Please!” 

clouds dark dramatic heaven

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She Who Saves Many Lives looked at the face of Many Paths. The eyes of Many Paths held the answer that she already knew. She looked back to Tu-Swift. He knew as well. “I am so sorry, Tu-Swift. This red plague is not a good thing for us. Please back away from me. Don’t look at me like that. Of course, I still love you. While I was asleep, I recalled a story my mother told me long ago when I was a child much younger than you. Another plague came and people had to leave our village and go camp by themselves for a full moon. Those who stayed in the village almost all died, like Suze. Those who camped by themselves mostly lived. We must do the same. Stay back from the sick people. Even well people! Or you will get sick too. If two or three of us must talk, we must talk with a fire between us. Now, please, Tu-Swift, do not come close to me again, but you can go and make more of the healing tea for me. Leave it at the threshold and I’ll get it…or Many Paths may bring it to me. She’s just recovered. She won’t get sick again.” 

Many Paths looked down at She Who Saves Many Lives and gently murmured, “Rest, Mother. Save your energy.” 

The old Shaman smiled and spoke, “Yes, I will, but I may — I may soon join back with the soil from which the Great Tree of Life draws nourishment. There is something you must know. I need to … I had a dream. Perhaps I dreamt of the Forgotten Field of Flowers. Perhaps Not. But it was very beautiful and varied. And, it occurred to me that just as we who are among the Veritas all have something unique to contribute to the tribe, so too the various tribes have learned to adapt to various circumstances and therefore become expert in various things. This is the teaching of The Forgotten Field of Flowers, of course. That teaching is about people who may argue among the Veritas. But why limit it? Why not have all the Tribes come together and learn from each other?” 

photography of maple trees

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“Yes, as shown in The Battle of the Three Paths. In small. But are you saying include other tribes, even The ROI and the Z-Lotz? The Z-Lotz are treacherous! They steal children! That’s not even — that’s against life itself. And, they came — they may have brought the disease of red sores intentionally!”

“Yes. You cannot trust them. Not yet. But perhaps they will learn the value of truth from us and they could change. And, perhaps we can learn something from them. It doesn’t mean we have to steal children, or spread disease as they do.”

A silence grew between them. Many Paths held the old shaman’s hand. She could see that the Old One was drifting off to sleep so she held her hand and lay down beside her. Many Paths took deep calming breaths. She herself was not back to her full energy level so she let herself be lulled by the warm day into drowsiness. She listened to the sounds of her people at work outside. So many sick and unnecessarily so. It was hard to feel anything but contempt for the Z-Lotz who had brought them this disease. She wondered about Shadow Walker and Eagle Eyes. What if they never returned? Perhaps they had been killed or taken captive. Maybe it was a mistake to even go there. As she usually did when she worried about Shadow Walker, she began to fiddle with the Sixth Ring of Empathy — the one that she alone shared with Shadow Walker. She turned it this way and that. She put it on her finger and her eyelids grew heavy with sleep. 

person beside bare tree at night

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She glanced over at She Who Saves Many Lives. She could see the many lines in her wrinkled visage. There was history there, Many Paths realized. And in her form was written, not just her personal history, but the history of the people. And in her form was written, not just the history of the Veritas, but the history of all people, for surely they all did form one small branch of the great Tree of Life. Many Paths contemplated this branch. Most of her friends were on this small branch — She Who Saves Many Lives, Shadow Walker, Tu-Swift, Eagle Eyes, Fleet of Foot. But every daisy, every oak, every butterfly, they were all on and constituted that great Tree of Life. 

Many Paths listened to the beautiful haunting cooing of a mourning dove from somewhere outside. She wondered whether the dove also realized that they were from the same tree. If we are all of and make up the same tree, was it then possible, as She Who Saves Many Lives had hinted, for different tribes to get along? Many Paths closed her eyes and pictured Shadow Walker. Having him away — that was hard — especially when there was no guarantee that he would return. She touched the Sixth Ring of Empathy and traced the circle of metal around her finger. It calmed her and made her realize that the Tree itself was safe. So long as people of character like Shadow Walker did what they could, not only for themselves, but also for the Great Tree of Life itself, all would be well. Many Paths smiled. She knew in her heart that her friends would do what they could. Everyone’s path ended in this life. And yet, every path also led to other paths. A stream might dry up — even a lake — but water — water itself was plentiful. The path of paths went on forever. The water circled itself back into life. And the tree of life will be here long outlasting our individual lives, Many Paths realized. But this Tree of Life is not something separate from me, or from Shadow Walker or from Tu-Swift. We are all part of that Tree. In a way, dying was only an illusion. A tree doesn’t die, even in winter. It may lose all its leaves and look dead, but it is only dormant and waiting for another spring. None of us really dies. Still, I prefer him here, warm, in the pleasurable press of our warm bodies together. I will always have the memory, and there is that vast tree, The Tree of Life. That lasts forever. He is one of my favorite parts though. Yet, I feel as though he is alive. It could be illusion.

Many Paths jerked as her head began to fall with sleep and then she chuckled as an image flickered for a moment behind her eyes — an image of Shadow Walker and Eagle Eyes sitting together on the throne of the Z-Lotz. She shook her head at that silliness then returned her mind back to the challenge that She Who Saves Many Lives had set for her: to bring all the tribes together. Was that possible? Or even desirable? A tree branches ever outwards. The branches don’t try to impale each other with thorns! Yet, Tu-Swift now feels as though he has been impaled. She Who Saves Many Lives sleeps. I will go and I will find Tu-Swift and comfort him. Can the Z-Lotz really have brought this plague here intentionally? And can I meet with them; dialogue with them if they have? But if I cannot meet with them, are we doomed yet again to war and killing and hatred? Then, her thoughts returned to Tu-Swift. Tu-Swift is alive and hurting. I must go see him. I just need to rest my eyes for a moment, then, I will find him. 

Having concluded that, Many Paths fell into a deep sleep. 

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The Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

The Myths of the Veritas: The Forgotten Field

The Myths of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy

Author Page on Amazon.

Such Sweet Sorrow

11 Thursday Jun 2020

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

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

civilization, ethics, fiction, greed, innovation, leadership, legend, myth, stories, tales, truth, Veritas

snow covered mountain under blue sky

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“Let’s go! It’s time to go!” The impatient voice of Trunk of Tree rung out too harshly in the soft glow of sunrise which reflected off the glaciers atop the Twin Peaks and suffused the village in a soft pink glow. 

“Patience, friend,” said Fleet of Foot. “I want to try one more time to convince Cat Eyes to come with us. And, since you’re in a hurry, have you chosen a book yet?” 

“I don’t want one. Just extra weight. They are mostly nonsense and lies anyway. Huh! Animals with necks as long as their bodies? Go have your conversation and then let’s go!” 

Fleet of Foot shook his head and stared at Trunk of Tree. He sighed. “How can you … can’t you see how important these books are? You can at least see that they are important to this entire tribe. You know that many of the Veritas of the Center Place…” Fleet of Foot shook his head and broke off. He could see by the look on the face of his friend that he would not be convinced. At least not this way, he thought to himself. “Never mind. I’ll go talk with Cat Eyes one last time. I won’t be long.” 

Cat Eyes was not difficult to find. Ever since they had arrived she had been an object of attention and now, all of these Veritas of the Twin Peaks treated her with a reverence beyond her years. Fleet of Foot stood quietly amid a small circle of people of all ages. Now, this particular group was dialoging about something called “logic.” When a decent cesura in the flow of conversation appeared, Fleet of Foot stepped forward and said, “Cat Eyes, I am sorry to interrupt you but may I please have a word with you in private?” 

scenic view of mountains

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Several of the Twin Peaks Veritas glanced at Fleet of Foot. The group walked a few yards away and continued their dialogue. It seemed that the treasure that they had uncovered included books on almost every topic imaginable. Once Cat Eyes had brought the secret of decoding to her tribe, they had spent much time on these artifacts. The knowledge of how to decode them had spread quickly through the entire tribe, though decoding was still a slow process. Gentle Talons, the leader of the Twin Peaks Veritas, had gifted each of the Veritas one book of their choice to take back with them to the Center Place.  All had eagerly and thankfully accepted.

Jaccim had chosen a book about training horses. Hudah Salah picked a book that promised to show how to use water on a desert to make it a field. She remained skeptical that such a thing could be done, but if it were possible, it would mean something wonderful for her tribe. Lion Slayer had opted for a book about lions and their close kin. Fleet of Foot had found a book with many pictures that claimed it showed how to run faster. Only Trunk of Tree had eschewed choosing any book at all. 

“Cat Eyes, I think you know what I wish to speak about.” 

“Indeed, Fleet of Foot. You want to persuade me to come with you. I suspect you do this mainly on behalf of Tu-Swift.” 

Fleet of Foot blushed. “He does … he does hold you in high regard.” 

Cat Eyes reached into her shoulder pack and brought out two books and a small piece of bark. “I wish you to give him these.” She handed him books as she said, “These are two books about training birds. I hope he will find these useful. One is my choice and one is Trunk of Tree’s though he doesn’t know that.” She smiled, “I know Tu-Swift is working with Suze to train Eagles to attack NUT-PI. Maybe these will help. I think they will. And…” Cat Eyes, who had always seemed confident, but even more so since returning to her home, especially so. Now, however, she hesitated, unsure whether to go on.

Fleet of Foot looked at her. “And…?” he prompted.

“And, although I tried to express how I feel in what I wrote for Tu-Swift, please convey to him my feeling which is hard to put into marks on paper birch. I feel split in two. I really loved my time with the Center Place Veritas, and I especially loved Tu-Swift. He will always have a special place in my heart of hearts. Look at my eyes. You must tell him this so that he believes it. I know that in some way he fancies me as well. But he and Suze have something special as well. To me, the two of them seem better matched to each other. I am an oddball. I was a child here. Then, I was a slave. Then, I was a stranger in your Center Place. But now — now, I am home. I not only belong here. I can do something important for my people. I am teaching all of them about the wisdom of these books and — I think Tu-Swift will understand how important that is. But you must make him also understand how I love him.”

european-rabbits-bunnies-grass-wildlife.jpg

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“I will do that.” Fleet of Foot again reddened as he said it. “Why not come back though and tell him yourself. We have the tunnel. It is only a few days journey. You can come back and describe what is here and then when you feel like it, you can come back again.” 

“Perhaps I will one day visit. I have no faith right now that the tunnel will keep working. Based on what I have read so far, no-one alive really understand how those tunnels — and especially the doors — really work. Jaccim certainly doesn’t — and what disturbs me even more is that he doesn’t care that he doesn’t know. He doesn’t seem to care that he has always just done what he has been told to do — what he was expected to do — even if it was to steal children. He isn’t even cruel. He seems like a nice man; fundamentally kind. Yet — he stole children. And he uses things with no idea how they work and he’s never made any attempt to learn. The people who made the tunnel, and I now think the city of the Z-Lotz, are long dead. They were killed in some horrendous wars. If you get back to the Center Place and many people explore the tunnels and we read more in the books about how they work, maybe I will some day visit — visit — the Center Place Veritas and Tu-Swift. And perhaps I will hold the children of Tu-Swift and Suze and tell the stories about my birthplace. But for now, this is my place. You see that yourself. I know you do.” 

Cat Eyes sighed and continued. “Tell Tu-Swift that someday I hope we shall meet again. Meanwhile, I wish him well in his endeavor to teach the eagles to hunt for NUT-PI. And, when we hopefully are done with that monster, I have another request. I am hoping he can train the eagles as well to hunt for, but not attack, my parents. No, don’t make that face. I realize that they are probably dead. But one never knows. They may have journeyed out to find me and ended up in a place by themselves. I know. I know. You need not put such a look upon your face. It’s been many years. I realize that. But I myself was lost from here for many years. Yet I am alive. And here. These are some likenesses of my parents from my memory and from the memories of two others who can make good likenesses and knew my parents well. It’s hope, Fleet of Foot. It’s hope. You must understand. I was hoping that they would be here. I need the hope. Even if they are never found or never return, I can still hope. It is a way to keep them alive in some small way.”

Fleet of Foot nodded. “I do understand. I will give Tu-Swift your messages — and your feelings.” 

“There is something else. I feel … the Eagles have their own life. To use them as a weapon… I would be glad if something came of training them besides murder. Tu-Swift wondered about turning the Eagles into weapons as well. Is that any better than Killing Sticks? It bothered him but he resolved it. He overcame it. But I wonder how different that is from whatever went on in Jaccim’s mind to allow him to steal children from their parents.”

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Fleet of Foot nodded. “Yes. As you say, Eagles do have their own lives. Many in the great web of life use others in the web. But the Eagles are free to attack or not attack, however you trained them. A Killing Stick however is not alive. It has no use I can see except to kill. It is not part of the web of life. It is not like the Eagles. At least I don’t think so. Tu-Swift, and Eagle Eyes before him, love the Eagles. If the Eagles choose to kill, it is partly due to that love returned. I don’t think of it as I do the Killing Sticks.” 

“Nor I. But I think all of us would feel better if the Eagles were also trained to find people and lead us to them. Imagine. Wolves can also be trained for such a purpose. But for that…wolves do not see well like Eagles. They can smell the scent of animals though. I don’t have any artifacts from my parents left. After they had been gone for years, people began to use the things they left behind. But I suspect that my scent must be like their combined scents. So, perhaps you can use this scrap of my tunic to have wolves find them too. It’s not likely. But it’s possible.”

Fleet of Foot blinked. “That is an amazing idea! To use the wolves to find people by scent!” 

The cat eyes of Cat Eyes twinkled. “Yes,” she chuckled, “though it isn’t mine. I read about it in a book. It can be done. Or, at least the book claims that it can be done.” Now Cat Eyes laughed aloud. “I can see your friend Trunk of Tree over there pacing and glowering, impatient as ever to get going. You had better begin your journey. I do wish you luck. I hope the tunnel still works and all of you return to the Veritas of the Center Place. And I hope… I wish Tu-Swift luck. That sounds cold. Just tell him I love him. But my life is here. And his life is with Suze. And with his sister. And you. And Shadow Walker.” 

“He’s … young,” said Fleet of Foot.

Cat Eyes laughed. “Yes, he is younger than I, but he has … you must understand … it is not just years. He and I, of all the Veritas I have met were the only ones who were stolen from their parents. We share that. And… if you can survive it, it ages you. He is older than he seems. Or, let me say instead that he seems older than he is. Of course, you’re right. He should be with someone of his own age, like Suze. Farewell. Leave now or Trunk of Tree will shed all his bark!” 

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Fleet of Foot glanced at his friend and could see that Cat Eyes was right. He laughed and Cat Eyes joined. Fleet of Foot took her hands gently in his. “You are a remarkable young woman Cat Eyes. I do believe we will meet again. I hope so. On behalf of Tu-Swift, I thank you for the gifts.” 

The small group of Center Place Veritas stood at the entrance to the path toward the tunnel and said goodbye one more time. Cat Eyes stood far off and waved to them. Even from a distance, Fleet of Foot could see the tears on her cheeks. Among the group returning through the tunnel was one from the Twin Peaks Veritas. Gentle Talons had chosen one from among his tribe to accompany them on their journey and to return in due course. This young woman’s name was “Flowing Waters.” She had artistic talent and, although quite bright and articulate, had been unable to master the decoding of books. Gentle Talons was hoping she could bring some drawings of the Center Place and its inhabitants back to Gentle Talons and his tribe some day.

A small number of Twin Peaks Veritas accompanied them on their journey back up to the door of the tunnel. Cat Eyes was not among them. She was already busy decoding more books and teaching others to do the same. Those who had come stood well back from the tunnel door acting for all the world as though some dark evil monster might emerge.

Hudah Salah noticed this wariness among the onlookers and considered. The only thing that had ever come out of that tunnel prior to the small Veritas delegation were child stealers. So! That really was a dark evil monster. No wonder they looked nervously toward the entrance, ready to bolt at the slightest urging. 

Hudah turned and watched carefully as Jaccim opened the tunnel door. It opened and though no obvious monsters emerged, the Veritas from beyond the Twin Peaks drew no closer. They continued to stare as their visitors, now including one of their own — Flowing Waters —entered into the oddly lit corridor that stretched beyond sight. They continued to stare as the doors closed. The onlookers collectively sighed. It seemed as though the entire party had been swallowed by a gigantic monster of rock. They turned and walked back home, eager to learn more of this wonderful world through the magic that The Chosen One had revealed to them all. 

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Inside, the returning Veritas, along with their guest, again gaped at the odd lighting and high ceilings. They strode along the smooth path confidently. Only Fleet of Foot found himself wondering whether this tunnel might collapse. On the way in, though he had been awed, the didn’t imagine the tunnel would “stop working” any more than a tree would stop growing or a bee would stop buzzing. Now, thanks (or no thanks) to Cat Eyes, he realized that this tunnel was not something to be taken for granted. It did not just spring into being. It had been built. And the people who had known how to build such things were gone, if the books were correct. Fleet of Foot thought about some of the many gifts the Veritas had received from their ancestors. How to start a fire, bow and arrow, which plants could be used for which diseases. Why had he always accepted these as part of the world? They were part of his world, but each meant his ancestors for thousands of generations had worked to make these devices better. Everyone he had known his entire life had experimented to make things better. 

Almost everyone, he realized. What if the likes of ALT-R and POND MUD had made these tunnels? They might have constructed them to appear an easy path — and then, they could collapse thus trapping and crushing an entire party under a mountain of hard rock. Did the books lie? Could there really have been a people so blind that they knew the story of the Orange Man and yet made the same mistakes again destroying in the process not just a single tribe but an entire civilization? No point in dwelling on a danger he had no idea how to defend against. He may as well walk to the end with as much happiness and joy in his heart as he could muster. If these were to be his last few moments on earth, he may as well enjoy them. 

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

He smiled and caught up with Flowing Waters. 

“Thanks for traveling with us, Flowing Waters. I saw some of your drawings. Excellent! I especially liked the sunset on the Twin Peaks.”

“Thank you, Fleet of Foot. I like to draw. Do you?”  

snow capped mountain

Photo by Life of Wu on Pexels.com

—————————————

Author page on Amazon

The Creation Myth of the Veritas

The Forgotten Field — A Myth about the Importance of Finding Common Ground

The Orange Man — a Myth about the Importance of Truth

The First Ring of Empathy — The Beginning of Book One of the Myths of the Veritas

The Beginning of Book Two of the Myths of the Veritas

The Beginning of Book Three of the Myths of the Veritas

Hauntings Across the Time Zones – A Poem

Camelot – A Poem

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