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Sunday, March 9, 2025

Reflecting on my new writing process...

I've been busy with life, work, and school. I haven't had a weekend to dedicate to writing in a while. But I forced a few minutes out of the end of tonight. It was hard at first, like that writers block feeling of staring at a blank page, even though it wasn't blank as I had started chapter 3 two weeks ago. But I felt "lost", like "where am I going with this"? 

So, taking queues both from my template (what tiny goal are we trying to achieve right now and how can we answer it with yes/but or no/and), and queues from the other writing lessons I've learned (what are each characters motives, what would the twin cats care about, that will affect what they say and what he learns...)... And then taking detour into dialogues with AI about what currency might look like in a world with ubiquitous magic and real gods... 

It began to take shape. It started slow, like cold honey, and then began to flow more easily as I explored those ideas. 

It began to feel like a block of marble that I was chipping away at carefully, to see what figure might be waiting to be uncovered, as some famous artist said, I think?

And even after only about 20 minutes doing these things, I felt completely unstuck. 

This process is working. I'm not going to haul off and teach a class until I'm at least 500 chapters into it and I know it's working. 😂 

But I definitely feel this process has merit. And others don't need my process. But I can show them techniques and tools and flavors, and let them become their own chefs, as Brandon Sanderson says. 

Lastly, I began writing my "Integrative Statement" for a seminary class. It's oddly vague instructions left me floundering a bit. 

But I recalled the professor says he did that on purpose to let us put what we wanted. 

As I drafted the first section, I realized that all my biblical studies in academics are making my storytelling better. This is because, despite European theologians best attempts to obscure this with their stupid "systems", the biblical authors were deeply saturated in narrative, story, metaphor, allegory, poetic imagery, and using the written arts to weave together and explore archetypes of the human condition. 

CS Lewis and JRR Tolkien and Brandon Sanderson all do the same. So did Jesus. 

This is the model. This is The Way. 

Story as Device, but not preaching. 

Saturday, February 22, 2025

Chapter 2 - Dinosaurs, Magic Lessons, and a Wolf Killer

Markus felt stiff, and he stretched and yawned. As his brain slowly booted, he realized he was naked, covered in some kind of blanket, and he opened his eyes to see the apex of a tent. 

Heart racing, he sat up as quickly as he could manage his aching bones, and looked around. He found himself draped in a tartan rug, and the smell of campfire smoke wafted into the tent. He looked through the slit in the tent, and could just make out three suns low in the sky but rising. 

“Ugh,” he said to himself. “I’m still in the nightmare.” 

“Nightmare?” A deep bellowing voice laughed. “That’s some way to talk about my camp. I don’t think it is half bad, considering the needless comforts you humans require.” 

Janie the cat was gone from his feet, and Markus peeked his head outside of the tent. 

Sitting on the far side of the campfire, was a massive humanoid, with green and grey scales, a wide shield-like head, with three horns. His hands were three large fingers and a thumb, which were holding a pot and a ladle. 

Markus froze, unsure how to proceed. 

“Come. Come, child. You must be hungry after a long sleep.” The deep voice of the creature encouraged. “Janie said you might be wary, but I didn’t expect this kind skittishness. Come, come. I don’t bite... Rather… I do... But I won’t bite you.” The large triangular head bobbed as he smiled. 

“Um-“ Markus started, then held the blanket around him tighter, “I… um… I am naked.” 

“Ah, Yes.” The gargantuan creature said. “I forgot, Janie left these for you.”

The creature waved a massive hand and a small bundle, tied with twine, floated into the air and then toward Markus’s tent, setting down just inside. The creature nodded, and went back to reading a book that looked far too small for his massive hands.

At the top of the bundle, under the twine, was a note with a paw stamped into a rainbow colored wax seal. 

***

Dearest Markus,

This was not the transition I had hoped for, and I am terribly sorry to do this to you, but I have to leave for a bit.  It has come to my attention that there have been some developments that require my direct attention. Apparently, I have been gone far too long. It was worth, you were worth it, but, I must attend to this for a bit. 

Worry not, I have left you in the best hands I could find. Ko’Akh is a dear friend and a wise sage. If anyone can help you get a real start on this journey, it will be him. Alas, while I am a Watcher and Seer, I have never been a great teacher. A storyteller, yes. Oh my yes, but not a teacher. 

Listen to him, watch him, and pay attention to your inner self, it will guide you.

I will try to return as soon as I can, but for now, stay with Ko’Akh until he delivers you safely to a human settlement. 

Your Watcher, Janie the Cat

PS: I burned your clothes, they were stained and would stand out in this reality. I know you watch too many movies, but I couldn’t resist setting you up with this package.

***

Markus untied the twine, and pulled the cloth wrapping apart. Inside, he found a Kilt in the blue-green tartan, a black tunic, a belt with some small bags hanging on it, and a black cloak. Along with this, he found a T-shirt from back home, which sported a stylized hand of the Vulcan greeting. 

Finding the other materials surprisingly higher quality and better fit than his Ren Faire gear back home, Markus put himself together and tugged at everything a few times to ensure it was together. He found the bags held a few coins, and a small utility knife was sheathed at his side.

The creature, apparently Ko’Akh, was still reading and lost in thought as Markus stepped out of the tent and into the light of three suns, cloak draped easily over his shoulders, hood back. The smell of food hit him from the fireplace, just now noticing how hungry he felt.

Tentatively, Markus stood and walked across the yard to the fire and sat on the opposing log. “Is that breakfast?” Markus asked hoping it was edible for a human.

The massive creature bowed his head slightly, set down his book, and filled a bowl using a ladle. With a dexterity belying his size, he placed a spoon inside the bowl, and reached his hand out. The bowl floated across the fire slowly, and paused in floating in front of Markus, who received it.

“I’m Ko’Akh,” the creature said, with a guttural sound at the end of the word, as if clearing his throat. It reminded Markus of Klingon, or the German composer Johann Sebastian Bach.

“I’m Markus,” he said, raising the spoon to his mouth. 

For a while, neither spoke. Ko’Akh allowing Markus to take in the scenery and give an appraising few glances at him. 

“So…” After a long silence, Markus broke the ice. “Talking cat, talking wolves, now a talking Triceratops man.”

“Hey now,” Ko’Akh laughed. “I’m not sure what a triceratops is, but I’m a Threxan. Of the horde of Ko’Enns, keepers of the ancient wisdoms. Please to make your acquaintance young human.” 

“I’m not exactly young, I’m 36.” Markus offered. Then speaking out-loud but more to himself, “Great, I’m talking to a dinosaur man.” 

“Our young-lings don’t even leave the heard until they are at least 100-years. I’m still only middle aged, and I am 2,000 years old. So, forgive me, but you are a young one. Though, for humans, I understand you are middle aged yourself. So, from your perspective, I can see how you would not feel so young.” Ko’Akh let out a slow bellowing laugh. 

“When you are quite ready, there is much to do, a big journey ahead of us.”

“A journey, where?” Markus asked.

“Janie left on an urgent duty, but assigned me to escort you to a village of your fellow humans. No wolf packs will bother you with me around. Vile creatures.” Ko’Akh shook his head at the thought of them.

“Wolves?”

“All dogs, vile, Just vile. Never trust a dog, even the cute ones, they’re always making a mess of things. Cats. They are your allies.”

Markus couldn't argue, he had been a cat person, or, at least, a cat adopting him was the only way he ever decided to keep an animal, one who, apparently can talk, and also have urgent business. So he was feeling less sure that was ever his decision to begin with. 

After Markus was done eating, and set his bowl down, Ko’Akh stood and waved his hands in a flowing motion over the entire campsite.

Markus took in the sheer size of the creature. He stood at least eight feet tall with a mass easily in the hundreds of pounds, and yet the ground only shook slightly when he walked. He was draped in a long robe with symbols all over it, with a large hammer in his belt, as well as cooking pots and other paraphernalia hanging about.

The bowl Markus had set down vanished, the campfire was suddenly cold and smokeless, the tent disappeared behind him. The rocks around the campfire rolled away into an unorganized layout. In less than two minutes, the campsite was missing as though it had never existed.

“Take nothing but pictures, leave nothing but footsteps,” Markus murmured to himself. 

“That is a lovely saying,” Ko’Akh said. “I shall add it to my texts.” 

Leaving the former campsite, Ko’Akh began walking into the woods then looked back to see if Markus was following.

Seeing no other choice, Markus stood to follow. “I wonder if they have burritos?”

***

For what Markus guessed was half a day, though with three suns it is hard to tell, they worked their way through forests, up and over rocky hills, through streams, and into a slowly changing landscape of new trees. The original forest had been primarily pine trees, but now various other trees dotted the land as well.

Throughout the journey, Ko’Akh walked with an agility that belied his size. As they walked, Markus thought about how much Janie the Human would have loved this scenery, and would probably have been twice as brave as he was. Plus, she loved camping, while Markus’ idea of camping was a hotel without room service, not that he’d seen a hotel in the last few years as his fortunes dried up. 

Every so often, Markus slapped his face again, to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, or force himself to wake up. No such luck, they were still walking. At least he was wearing his new boots, provided by Janie the Cat, which he found were shockingly still comfortable even after hours of walking. He wondered if they were magic boots too. 

Finally, they came to the first sign of civilization, a sturdy stone bridge crossing a wide river. 

“Excuse me, Ko’Akh, what is this place called?” 

“This place?” Ko’Akh asked, pointing to the bridge. “Is Maplewood Crossing.” 

Across the river, there were maple trees as far as Markus’ could see, the pine trees stopping at this side of the river’s edge.

“No,” Markus replied. “I mean, this place, this… planet? This reality?” 

Ko’Akh stopped their trek across the bridge, turned around, and placed an elbow on the bridge railing. They were halfway across the bridge, which may have been at least a mile wide, Markus guessed. 

The giant gave him an assessing stare, then spoke.

“When Janie, as you know her, asked me to watch over you,” he said. “I never imagined you would be so poorly educated. You don’t seem to be much a magician, and you’ve never met a Threxan, and you seem so…  helpless, if you’ll excuse the tactlessness. Then again, you do seem like the kind of case she would find fascinating.” 

“Um…” Markus said, while fiddling with the old ring on his necklace, which Janie the Cat had left on his naked body. It was his wedding ring, which he now wore for a memorial, and sometimes for stimming when he’s overwhelmed, which he always was. 

Markus down, resting his aching legs, leaning against one of the rail posts on the other side of the bridge. “Thanks, I think? But… do you have a name for this… reality? Do you know what planets are?”

“The translation magic may not be working well in this case. Your village must be a long way away.”

“You have no idea, compadre, you have no idea.” 

“You must tell me about it sometime, but later, when I can get my recording crystals set up.” Ko’Akh sat down for himself against a rail post, somehow managing to bring his legs into something approximating a lotus pose. “Let me see if I can give an answer that would help. This, planet, as you call it, is one of three inhabitable orbs which rotates our three suns.”

“Three habitable planets?!” Markus exclaimed.

Ko’Akh smiled and nodded. “You really don’t get out much. Yes, three, though, not to humans, per se. You are all so fragile, especially if you are without training in the Manna arts.”

“I’ve been sheltered,” Markus offered. “Apparently more than I realized.” Markus made a note to himself to follow up on what Manna Arts might be, though after the glowing blue light saber stick event, he had his guesses. He unconsciously rubbed his forearm tattoo, which was visible but no longer glowing.

“Indeed,” The giant man said, as he stretched his arms and yawned. “Well… This orb is called by many names, in many cultures, but many of us have come to call is Ha Aretz .” 

As he spoke, the dino-man pulled out a small scone, like the one Janie the Cat had given him yesterday, and threw it at Markus. Ko’Akh filled a fresh skin of water from the river before tossing it as well.

Markus felt the energy surge through him again, washing away his tiredness. His arm tattoo glowed, briefly as well, before settling back into white and black ink. Markus always imagined he would be brave enough to get a tattoo, though this wasn’t what he imagined it would look like. He always thought it would be Yoda and Spock standing together. He guessed nobody here would be able to draw that one, having no reference. Although, he might get them to replicate his shirt, maybe.

Ko’Akh, having finished his scone in one great bite, continued… “There is also Oceana, which you would find inhospitable, and Zora, which you would find less hospitable. My people cannot visit Oceana, due to not breathing under water, and there are no visitors facilities. However, I have been to Zora a few times. It is primarily a place of fire and lava, which is why Dragonites and other fire beings call it their home.”

“DragonBorn,” Markus sat up straighter. “There are DragonBorn here?” 

“Dragonites, but yes. So, you have at least heard of them,” the dino-man said. “I suppose that makes sense, they are flashier, their legends and stories travel farther.” 

“Am I likely to meet one?” Markus asked. “Are they… friendly?” 

“Friendly enough, I suppose.” Ko’Akh paused to consider the question. “They are a tough race, but generally not harmful if not provoked. They can be a bit arrogant though, given they are an apex species.”

“Fascinating,” Markus mused. He finished his lembas bread, which is how he now was thinking of it. “Whatever bakery you got this from is better than where Janie shops.” 

Ko’Akh laughed and offered more, Markus shook his head no, “I’m full, but thank you.” 

And the dino-man took another in one bite. “You are a polite young human.” 

The large man stood, which Markus took as clue that the rest was over.

Ko’Akh said, “As I understand it, Zora used to be much like Ha Aretz, but that may have been before it began orbiting closer to the third sun. Still, as long as you stay in the visitors facility, it is a breathtaking set of views. You might like it, maybe, but it can feel cramped after a while being stuck inside all the time…” Ko’Akh drifted off with a far-off gaze for a moment. He then sighed a heavy sigh, and nodded to start walking again. 

The dino-man hummed a soft tune and Markus trailed behind. He thought about his apartment, and the take-out containers that were piled by his trash can, and wondered how long it would be before someone checked on him. Whether he was really in another reality, or he was lying unconscious on the kitchen floor and Janie the Cat was waiting for him to wake up and feed her, either way, someone might eventually come looking, right? Then again, with his wife gone, no job, no royalties from his book, and his family in another state, it could be months. He hoped he didn’t get an infestation because of those take-out containers. He might have to start a scone business if he woke up, or, maybe he’d go work for the taco truck. At least then he’d get income, and discount burritos. 

Whatever this was, he was starting to find it a welcome break from his normal life. No bills, no rent at the moment, just walking through the most beautiful place he had ever seen, with magic scones to keep him full of energy. Still, it had been a long time since he’d stayed at the MGM Grand or Marriott Desert Springs on a book signing tour or work conference. He missed room service and spa treatments.

“I wonder if they have golf here…” Markus wondered barely audibly. 

“What is golf?” Ko’Akh asked. 

“Oh,” Markus said. “You have excellent hearing, I barely said that out loud. 

“My hearing is wider than your human ears can perceive,” Ko’Akh said matter-of-factly. 

“Well, anyway, golf is a game where you walk around outside on grass that is mowed very short, and you use metal sticks to hit a small ball into a hole.” Markus thought that was a sufficient, if crude, explanation. 

“I can’t say I am aware of such a game,” Ko’Akh said. “But you humans do have different habits than we do, and your games are often not possible for us, due to our size difference.” Dino-man shrugged and went back to humming his tune.

After the river crossing, they left the dense forests behind. The forest was getting thinner and trees more diversified, fewer pines, more deciduous trees with large three pointed leaves. Markus counted this a great relief, as the pine trees had been hard to navigate. 

The new wildlife was fascinating too; birds with long rainbow feathers that glowed brightly against the now overcast sky and perched in the tops of the maples. A family of tiny tree frogs with bulging eyes and purple skin greeted them from a nearby oak. Even then, walking and walking and walking was monotonous for a man who’d lived his life behind a keyboard syncing his life’s work to GitHub repos and Excel sheets.
 
“We’ve been walking for hours,” Markus griped. “I enjoy a stroll through the forest as much as the next nerd, but this is exhausting.”

“Shall I carry you little one?” Ko’Akh raised his scale encrusted eye brow, with what might be a smirk. 

“No,” Markus sulked. “I just… Are we getting close?” 

“It should be just over the next few hills.” 

“Well, then,” Markus found himself rubbing his forearm tattoo again. “Can you tell me about this?”

Lifting the inside of his forearm to show Ko’Akh his tattoo. The dino-man paused, briefly, and bent over to see it more closely. 

“You don’t know about your own soul mark?” Ko’Akh, a little incredulous. 

“Soul mark?” Markus shrugged. “Almost as soon as Janie the Cat brought me here, to this reality… orb… whatever… we got attacked by three white wolves, and she told me to pick up a stick to defend myself, which I thought was a bit underwhelming as a defensive item.”

Ko’Akh eyed the tattoo another moment, and then started walking again, this time side by side in the open rolling hills. 

“Interesting,” is all the dino-man offered. 

“Well, the stick started glowing, which reminded me a weapon from stories in my home town. Then the big wolf attacked me and I hit it with the glowing stick, and it died. The other two wolves left, and then this just… kind of appeared? I guess. On my arm.” 

“Does nobody in your village have soul marks?” Ko’Akh asked with what sounded like genuine curiosity. “And this is your first soul mark?”

“I have never heard the term,” Markus said, and shrugged.

“Hm,” the dino-man pondered this for a bit. “Where to start. Green as a hatchling this one. I can see why Janie said you needed an escort to your kind.” 

“Wolf Killer,” Ko’Akh said. “Well, I suppose that makes sense, given your history, and your story. I shall be interested to watch your progress little one.” 

“What makes you say that?”

“A soul mark,” the dino-man started. “They are common among the mages, but usually those of higher class and skill than you seem to have. Most people only achieve theirs when they have faced great hardships. Not the inconveniences of life, mind you, but real hardships.”

“That does sound like me,” Markus replied, not wanting to discuss her right now.

“Even then,” Ko’Akh continued without prying. “It is unusual for someone not trained in the Manna Arts to achieve a soul mark of this kind. You must have some innate access to your Manna.”

Markus found himself rubbing the tattoo as he listened. “Wait, what is Manna?”

Ko’Akh gave a sideways glance at him, but then shook his head and answered. “Manna is the source of all that is. It is life. It is energy. It is essence. It is matter. There is Manna in everything, but living beings hold it in more concentrated forms. The Manna Arts are how we train to pull the energy from Manna, and shape it according to our needs.” 

“Is that dangerous?” Markus asked. 

“Yes. No. Is fire dangerous?” 

Markus pondered a moment, then replied, “I see.” 

“Fire is simply a lower form of Manna release. The cut wood in our fire pit is converted to energy, which is released as fire.” 

“That tracks with the education I do have, from my… village.” Markus said. “We have a technology that takes matter and splits it into energy, powering our homes.”

“Good, you aren’t a complete illiterate.” Ko’Akh teased. “Those who have trained in the Manna Arts generally fall into two types, Generalists and Specialists. As they train, they sometimes face challenges that go beyond the simple use of Manna Arts, they face a situation that changes them on the inside, their soul. That marks them, in a way that forever impacts their use of the Manna Arts.”

Markus sat with that explanation for a few strides. “I do feel different.” 

Ko’Akh turned to Markus, stopped walking, and grabbed him by both shoulders to look him in the eye for a moment, searchingly. “With a soul mark… you cannot have been unchanged.”

After a pause, still searching Markus’ eyes in a way that made him feel both naked and yet seen, laid bear but accepted, Dino-man finally nodded, more to himself than Markus. “Hm,” he said. Then began walking again. 

“So, Manna Cakes, a bit on the nose for a name, must be some form of recharge fuel? Is that why I feel so much stronger after eating one?” 

“Indeed,” Nodding affirmative. Ko’Akh continued, “Energy is matter is energy is matter. If you learn nothing else about Manna from me, learn that. So many Manna Artists forget that basic, and then fail to grasp why something isn’t working as intended. You cannot release manna without fundamentally changing the thing that releases it. The soul marks-“ Ko’Akh cut off abruptly, still walking, but more cautiously. 

Motioning with his palm down to the ground, he warned Markus, “Stay down, stay back.” 

Markus watched the giant glide silently forward, out of the Maplewood into a clearing, peeking over a hill. 

“Curiosity killed the cat,” Markus whispered to himself, but couldn’t resist peaking over the hill as well. 

Smoke rose in the distance from buildings clustered together in what must have been a village. Shouting was barely audible from this distance. People were running either from or toward a group of black robed people holding weapons and torches of red glowing flames. 

Ko’Akh gave Markus a stern look, motioned for him to stay down, and stood to his full stature atop the hill. As he threw his robe to the air and it disappeared, then he flexed his massive muscles and stretched his arms, making a motion that reminded Markus of Thai Chi or Qigong. 

Then he opened his mouth and let out a roar that shook the ground around them. Sigils embedded in each of his scales began to glow and pulse in various colors. Markus hadn’t noticed them before, against the previously dark grey scales.

In the distance, the marauders turned their attention toward the hulking giant, and a group of them broke off, heading his way. As they got closer, Markus could make out swords, axes, maces, staves, and other weapons of various kinds, all showing signs of magical enhancement.

Ko’Akh let them come his way for a moment, then with blinding speed ran toward them, with an agility and speed Markus did not think possible for any living being. As the giant closed the gap halfway to them, he turned completely invisible.

Markus gasped, but put his hand over his mouth to stop the sound.

The attackers paused at this development, and created a defensive grouping. The scene was still for a few moments. Then figures from the group began flying away from the formation as if they had been struck by a giant…. Hammer.

Markus had wondered, “I guess that’s what that hammer is for...” 

Just then, his own arm began to feel warm, and his tattoo started to glow and pulse. 

Behind him, wrestling in the bushes. 

Standing, looking around him, he found no free sticks this time. 

Three wolves, the same three from yesterday came out, with two more behind. Without Ko’Akh or Janie, he felt defenseless. 

He started to reach to his belt for the knife, but it was far too small to be helpful here. Having nothing else to go on, he picked up a nearby stone. He spoke to it, as before, “Defend me.”

The stone began to glow and pulse in his hand. Hoping it would do the trick again. He tossed the rock and it landed near one of the wolves, exploding on impact. “That’s something,” Markus said to himself. 

The white wolves, undeterred, spread apart to avoid a cluster. 

Markus quickly stuffed the front of his shirt with more rocks, like an uncoordinated Kangaroo. From his new makeshift pouch, he picked a rock and held it up. It glowed, he threw, he missed, it exploded on hitting the ground, a wolf laughed and brushed the dust off. 

He threw another at the closest wolf, and it struck the wolf in the face, exploding on impact, killing it instantly.

He threw another rock, it missed. 

He threw another rock and it bounced off the ground, exploding, but throwing shards of rock into the wolf’s chest, and it fell. It tried to stand again, but one leg hung useless. It limped on three legs back behind the others.

The remaining three wolves circled him.

One lunged, jaws open. Markus, holding onto the last three rocks, hit the beast with one of them and it made an impact that was beyond anything he expected. The animal went flying off as though struck by something much bigger, and landed a distance from them.

This left two wolves with all their limbs, and one severely injured. They lost their confidence without the pack. 

They took off running. 

He hadn’t noticed, but during the fight, as he kept spinning to see all his potential attackers, he had been wandering closer to the village. 

Ko’Akh was nowhere in sight, but a trail of bodies in lay in awkward positions leading all the way to town. 

A young human girl, no older than 10 by Markus’ guess, came running and screaming from the village, chased by a white wolf. This one was twice the size of any that Markus had faced yet.

Armed with his last two rocks and adrenaline energy, Markus went running toward the girl. 

Before he could get there, the wolf caught up to her and grabbed her leg, knocking her down. 

Mid-stride, Markus threw one of the rocks and it made impact on the side of the creature’s shoulder, knocking it down and away from her. 

Markus arrived moments later, and kicked the creature in the belly. It rolled, got up, and growled; a gaping hole where one shoulder should be. It limped on three legs, but unafraid, unlike the one from earlier. The wolf growled, showing its teeth, and lunged at Markus. 

He raised his hands to block the attack but dropped the rock, and they both went down. 

After some struggle, one arm out against the wolf’s jaws, keeping them from biting his face, his other hand felt the rock and he grabbed it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the rock glowed brightly and he shoved it into the creatures’ mouth, then punched its jaw closed. The head exploded on impact spraying him, the girl, the ground with blood. Luckily, this time, he and the girl missed most of it.

He got up, a bit dazed, but less grossed out than his first fight yesterday, probably because of the adrenaline pumping through him on overdrive. The blood fell off his clothes, rather than staining them this time.

Markus felt a surge of energy flowing through him, like an adrenaline rush but on a level he had never experienced. Then his arm got hot, and the tattoo glowed even brighter, swirls of decorative script wrapped the phrase, “Wolf Killer.” 

Breathing heavily, he checked on the girl. She had a bite mark, but it seemed superficial. Still, she couldn’t put weight on the leg, so he picked her up. 

At this point, in the distance, Ko’Akh stood surrounded by a group of people he assumed to be villagers, by the way they were crowding and shaking his hand, no sign of further struggle.

As Markus made his way to them, he told the girl to close her eyes as they walked through a trail of dead bodies left in Ko’Akh’s wake. 

Now more intrigued than grossed out, Markus observed the dead people were a rag tag mix of reptilians, somewhat reminiscent of the bearded dragon his friend Jeff had growing up, and humans with pale skin and no hair, all with a The White Wolf branded on their foreheads. 

The young girl’s parents came running to her, and the father grabbed her. The mother worried over her looking at her daughter’s injuries. “It’s superficial,” she said. Waving her hands and lips silently moving, a wash of yellow light emanated from the woman’s chest to an amulet around her neck, then into her hands, then thorough her hands to her daughter’s leg.

The young girl looked down, wiggled her leg, and smiled. She hopped down from her father’s arms and ran to Markus to give him a hug around his leg. “Thank you!” She said, before jumping back into her father’s arms and hugging him around the neck. 

The woman then noticed Markus’ shoulder. “That on the other hand,” She said. “Will take some doing. Come, let’s get that fixed.” 

Markus looked to Ko’Akh, who was still too busy to notice, and headed away with the magic mom-nurse-lady. 

***

Ten minutes later, Markus found himself in a local inn dining room, turned triage center, having a gash on his shoulder attended to, which he hadn’t originally noticed until the little girl’s mother had pointed it out. He was feeling it now that the adrenaline started wearing off. 

The young girl’s mother was sewing a deep gash in his shoulder back together with hand waving and yellow light, which was apparently her specialty. But it was a deep wound and if he didn’t hold still he’d have a scar. While it wasn’t painful, because, magic, he guessed, it still tugged and pulled and it was an odd sensation. Much like the time he had a tooth removed. 

By some miracle nobody could account for, not one member of the village died. The White Wolf Clan claimed to be looking for something, or someone. The reports were mixed. They searched as they stole, broke, and burned down the buildings, but other than a few injuries, some serious in the case of the town guards, not one death.

Despite this, there were no survivors of the attacking White Wolf Clan. They had been overpowering the village until Ko’Akh arrived plowing through them like a wheat field.

After the injured were healed, and the dining room set back up for a meal, the town pitched in together to host a celebration. That felt odd, given that they had just had their homes destroyed, so he asked about the reaction. 

“Homes we can rebuild,” the mom told him. “Lives are what’s important. We celebrate life today. Life won.”

Markus did not receive as much attention from the village as a whole, as Ko’Akh did all the saving and other matters had their attention. However, he found himself the sole focus of the girl and her parents. Their gratitude in saving their daughter from the wolf chasing her down was unmatched. They turned out to be the owners of the inn, and offered Markus a free room for as long as he would like, no charge. 

***

Markus offered to help the town in any way possible, now that his wound was stitched, but when he admitted no specific magical abilities other than to make sticks and rocks glow, which he himself still didn’t understand, the inn keepers gave each other a worried glance and then gave Markus a pitiful one. 

“We’ve got it from here,” she assured him. “You rest.”

Markus walked outside to see the fires were out as various forms of wind, ice, and water were employed by magical hands. 

The bodies of the dead attackers had been gathered into a single location, and burned away from the city. 

Various craftsmen were working on making repairs to the less damaged buildings.

Back in his room, laying on a bed that was significantly more comfortable than his back back home, Markus watched the sky and forests through his large double window. 

On the horizon, the second of three suns were cresting the forest canopy, and the moon was a purple-blue hue as its pink rings became visible over the other horizon. Markus was still so unaccustomed to this realm, he had no bearing of which direction they were rising from and setting to, and his cell phone, battery dead, still wouldn’t have helped on another planet. He was pretty sure they didn’t have Google Maps here. 

While his day hadn’t gone according to anything resembling any expectation of normal, and he was faced with more danger, he was grateful, at least, to have a 1% better understanding of his surroundings than he had yesterday, and two wolf wins gave him just a hair’s breadth more confidence that he might not die, and now he had room and board for the moment. 

Still… given that there is no US-Dollar, and magic was a thing, he imagined currency worked differently here. 

So he decided to get some help understanding the lay of the land so he could fend for himself in the days to come. 

He wondered what Ko’Akh might be doing, and where Janie the Cat had run off to. He wondered what Janie the Human would say if she could see this with him. He wondered what substance makes pink rings on a moon. He wondered if he would wake up from this hallucination tonight. As he drifted off to sleep, he wondered if the inn keeper knew how to make a breakfast burrito.

***









 

Shalom: Live Long and Prosper!
Darrell Wolfe (DG Wolfe)
Storyteller | Writer | Thinker | Consultant @ DarrellWolfe.com

Clifton StrengthsFinder: Intellection, Learner, Ideation, Achiever, Input
16Personalities (Myers-Briggs Type): INFJ


Sunday, February 16, 2025

Chapter 1 - Burritos, Dreams, and a Magical Tattoo

Markus wanted a burrito. 

He kicked a pile of take-out containers aside near the overflowing trashcan and opened the small apartment fridge. He was greeted by the familiar scent of old milk and the sight of nothingness. 

Sighing, Markus closed the fridge and stood staring at this collection of magnets,

"Sorry I’m Late. I Didn’t Want to Come."

"This House Runs on Coffee, Chaos, and Cuss Words."

"Everything Happens for a Reason. Sometimes That Reason is You Were Dumb."

"Procrastinators Unite... Tomorrow."

Then his eyes landed on the center magnet,

"If You’re Looking for a Sign, This is It."

Momentarily amused, Markus took a deep breath, ran his hand over Janie the Cat who was resting on top of the fridge, as usual. It was a bit chilly, if by bit you mean you can see your breath on the wind. So he grabbed his coat and headed down the street to the local Food Truck Pavilion. 

As he arrived at Jorge’s Famous Tacos, the line was so long it wrapped around the corner, and he decided to try his luck at the ATM while he waited. 

Denied. 

He tried another card. 

Denied. 

His warped reflection from the sheet metal wall behind the ATM mocked him, his ragged beard, now showing a wisp of grey, and decided he probably needed to shower today when he got home. Before walking away, Markus rifled through his wallet looking for any other cards or hidden money, coupons, anything. He found a third card that he had forgotten was even in his wallet. 

Markus held the card to his chest and whispered “Please”. When he put the card into the machine there was a flash on the screen. It didn’t ask him for his PIN. Instead, it beeped and out came a twenty dollar bill. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, he took it and put it in his wallet. The screen read, “Balance $ -19.50.” That was the last of his money for another week and a half. He would probably have to sell blood again tomorrow. But at least he could have a burrito today.

Waiting in line, Markus thought about how he and his late-wife used to come here and dream about the future, laugh about some mishap at work, or talk about his stories. 

It was their spot. 

Now it was his. 

His smile faded. 

“She was too young,” he half-whispered to himself as he took another step forward in line. Pregnancy is supposed to be a happy thing, their first child. One night they sat on the couch and talked about their plans, their future, their hopes. The next morning she woke up him to tell him she wasn’t feeling well, and she collapsed in the living room. 

Panic. 

Emergency personnel, a flurry of activity.

“I’m calling time,” the doctor said. Not that Markus heard it clearly, but as through a haze.

Just like that, all those plans shattered into a million pieces of glass, then floated away on the wind like dust, the words “Blood Clot” forever seared into his psyche.

“Three years,” he said under his breath. “… it can’t be three years already.”

The line moved forward. A young girl and her mother passed by, about the age his daughter would have been, holding her mother’s hand, begging for ice cream. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, just as his grief counselor had taught him.

The intensity of the pain in those early years had faded to a dull ache, and even that was only a background noise to his daily life. That was, until his novel royalties dried up, and his company laid half the staff off a few weeks ago.

His parents were in his hometown still, and they offered to let him move home when-, he felt his chest ache. When he became a widower. Maybe he could take them up on it now, since things were so awful. But, he still felt like holding out, something had to go his way soon, right? 

His turn in line. Jorge waved at him from the line, and turned back to his busy tickets. Jorge’s wife just nodded and smiled, knowing his order by heart. 

Just as he handed the magical last twenty to the cashier, his grip loosened and the twenty dollar bill flew away into the wind. They both looked at it fly away, watching it float higher and higher into the distance. 

Markus teared up, balled his fists, and started to visibly shake. 

He tried his magical card at the register.

Declined. 

No magic left in you today, he thought. Dejected, he  turned to walk away. 

“Listen, Markus,” Juliana said, “We know you. This one is on us, okay?”

In another life, Markus would never have accepted, he wasn’t a helpless schmuck. But, really, lately, he was just that. He couldn’t even keep his trash cans empty at home. So swallowing his pride, he nodded, offered a tight smile, and took the burrito. 

The walk of shame to the covered, heated, seating area felt like a bag of rocks on his shoulders. Seeing the throngs of people taking up most of the tables inside the eatery, and feeling the chill of the wind on his neck, he opted to eat at home. “It’s less human-ey at home anyway.” He muttered to himself. 

As he left the Pavilion, a flyer stuck to his shoe. He tried shaking it off, but it wouldn’t budge. He pulled it off the bottom of his shoe, and read it.

“Broke? Paid Test Subjects Needed. For details see Esion Etihw Institute website, link below…”

The flyer was torn, and the website was missing. “Desperate times…” Markus said to nobody in particular, and stuffed the flyer in his pocket.


***

At his unkempt apartment, Markus sat on the couch and began flipping through the Netflix and Hulu shows as he ate his burrito.  Janie the Cat, a calico with one green eye and one blue eye, watched him intently from the coffee table, apparently waiting for Markus to drop some of his food. 

“Ugh, I forgot to feed you again, didn’t I?” 

*Meow* She cocked her head expectantly. 

As he glanced back at his kitchen, he winced. There was no cat food. He remembered. He took a morsel of chicken from the burrito, and handed it to her. 

“I’ll get you food, I promise.” 

*Meow* She cocked her head the other way. 

Markus felt guilty, and handed her another piece of chicken from his burrito. Which she gladly ate. Then Janie jumped over onto the couch, and began pulling at his pockets. 

“I don’t have any food hiding in there. Okay? I’ll try to find you some in a minute. Maybe there’s some tuna in the cupboard. I’ll look in a minute I promise.” 

*Meow* Janie the Cat aggressively tugged at his pocket. 

Markus stood up, annoyed. “Look,” He pulled his pockets inside out. “No food.” As he did, the flyer from the Pavilion fell to the floor and Janie went to pounce on it. 

Shaking his head, Markus sat back down and went back to scrolling. But Janie the Cat grabbed the flyer, and brought it to him, placing it on his lap. 

He grabbed the flyer back and tossed it on the coffee table.

Janie the Cat jumped over to the table, grabbed it, and placed it back on his lap. 

“Insistent today, huh?” He said.

Inspecting the flyer again, Markus read it out-loud to Janie, “Broke? Paid Test Subjects Needed. For details see Esion Etihw Institute website, link below…” 

Markus tried sounding out the name of the business and mused to Janie the Cat, “that looks French or some shit, I guess.”

A Google Search wasn’t helpful, as it was full of advertisements. But as a software developer, currently without a contract, Markus was on his last paid month of ChattyCathyAI-Pro, before his former employers’ subscription ran out at the end of the month.  He ran the name through the AI search engine, and the results came back with a brief description of the company and a link.

“Esion Etihw Institute is an industry leader in dimensional research. We use bleeding edge techniques including  sensory manipulation, psychoacoustics, and psychotropic therapies to transcend human limitations and explore the possibilities of extra dimensionality. One day, we will break the bonds of our existence.” 

After clicking the link, he was greeted by a landing page that said, “Apply now to be a paid test subject. We pay same day, in cash. And you just might become a super human.”

“Well,” Markus said. “I have no idea what any of that is supposed to mean. But getting paid to be a lab rat is better than not getting paid to be a developer or writer.” So he filled out the application, and hit submit. Janie the Cat was asleep and purring next to him, and had eaten the last half of his burrito while was he was distracted. 

“I guess I deserve that,” he said. Janie curled up tighter. He felt bad, when was the last time he fed her, anyway? Flipping through more shows, Markus landed on Schitt's Creek. “As bad as they have it,” He said to sleeping Janie, “… they have each other.”

***

A few freelance jobs, that were so small he would have laughed at them a year ago, got him through the week. At the end of the week, Markus was a half hour early to the testing facility, which was in against a hill on the outskirts of town. He paced the lobby, palms sweaty, and tried to strike up a conversation with the administrative assistant working the front desk. 

“So how do you pronounce that name, anyway?” 

“It is pronounced, Ess Eeon Et Eeww” 

“Is it French?” 

“No.” She replied, with a practiced smile. 

The phone rang and she held up a finger to Markus. Speaking to the caller, “Yes, Mr. Thaddeus. I understand. I’ll tell him.” 

Turning to Markus, she said, “Excuse me.” Then she disappeared into an office door behind the desk.

With no-one to pester with questions, or feel awkward about, Markus walked the room checking out the PR Posters and write ups about the institute in scientific magazines, “Breakthrough in audio therapy…” I wonder what that means. 

One realistic painting of a golf course near a forest looked hyper realistic. As he stared at the intricate detail, the image shimmered and distorted, like summer heat waves in a window pane. Then the trees in the painting began to sway, and then there was a small figure riding a large dinosaur who walked out of the forest. 

The scene zoomed in, and the man, wearing white robes, gave Markus a wild grin. 

*Ding*, the elevator behind him warned of someone approaching his floor, just two floors to go on the way down. 

Markus turned to face the other direction. When he glanced back to the painting, the image was back to being a still image of the company golf course. 

“You’re seeing things, my dude. You need sleep.” Markus mumbled to himself. He made a mental note to check the cost of out-of-pocket medications and use his test-subject paycheck to obtain some as soon as possible.

As he waited, he realized the painting reminded him of his recurring dream. At least once a year, since he was six, he dreamed about the portal that took him to the wild group of humans co-habiting with dinosaurs. He could still feel the musty robes on the old man, with the wild look in his eye, “The Watchers are coming…” Then he would wake up, it always started and ended in the same place, for thirty years. Markus even wrote a book about it, that was successful for a time, but the royalties had since dried up. And with the death of his wife, he just couldn’t get himself to write the sequel. The dream happened again last night. 

He was 36 today. A great day to die from being a lab rat. Everything else is gone, maybe now it’s his turn to die in a facility full of doctors. He shrugged. He kept watching the painting, waiting for it to turn into a movie again, but it remained still. 

The elevator doors opened behind him. “Hello,” a friendly voice said. 

Markus turned around to see a brunette woman in a lab coat, holding a digital tablet, and smiling with a friendly smile and relaxed posture. “You must be Markus.” She said. 

“Yes, Um…” Markus glanced back at the image of the golf course. It was still just a painting. 

“That catches people’s attention often. It’s a painting, but the real golf course looks just as impressive.” She motioned for him to follow. 

“I’m Jay, by the way,” She said. “Like the bird. Right this way, Markus.” She ushered him into the elevator.

***

As they approached the testing room, Markus got his first glimpse at the famous Anechoic chamber
(also called the Negative Sound Chamber). It was a large grey room, filled with sound baffling triangles of various sizes and directions. Floor, ceiling, and walls were covered in them, but the floor had a sturdy wire frame to walk on, so as not to disturb the sound padding. 

In the center, was a chair, much like a dentist chair. Next to the chair was a machine with wires, and above the chair was a large speaker aimed directly down. 

Jay ushered Markus to sit, “As covered in the orientation video, these wires will monitor your vital signs and record valuable data from the test. We will ask you a series of questions to understand any subjective experiences you have had. This room makes people nervous, so this will help you relax.” 

Jay handed him a small gummy bear, which he thought was funny, and he sat and chewed on it while she strapped him with wires. “These restraints are for your protection. This room will be pitch black, and sometimes participants want to get up, we don’t want you hurting yourself or the equipment, so we strap you in. If it is too overwhelming, say so. We can hear you, we will stop the experiment and debrief.”

“You know how to make a guy feel special,” Markus half-giggled to himself. 

Jay unbuttoned his shirt and placed the final electrodes on his chest. As her fingers brushed his chest, he was reminded of how long it had been since another human touched him. He felt an ache in his chest, but took a breath. 

Noticing his tightened reaction, Jay asked, “You okay?” 

“Oh I’m fine,” Markus lied. “Your fingers were cold.” He let out a nervous chuckle. She nodded and kept working. 

“I assure you, test is unorthodox, but safe.” She left him in the chair and closed the door. 

Finally, he was alone, strapped to a chair, in a pitch black room. 

“Is this what my life has come to?” He said out-loud. Immediately he noticed how hallow his voice felt. In a normal room, your voice bounces off the walls. Here, the walls ate your voice. Odd sensation. Markus opted not to speak out-loud for the rest of the test. 

A soft hissing came from the speaker above him, reminiscent of a breeze or ocean waves. And he felt himself getting tired, warm, and fuzzy, as if he was buzzed at the bar. Then his vision began shifting. White smoke filled his vision in the otherwise dark room. The smoke started to take shapes, then began to look like animals and humans moving about. It was both terrifying and compelling. He couldn’t look away, he felt drawn to them. But he couldn't reach them, because he was strapped to the chair. Then the shapes faded, and the darkness came back.

Markus wasn’t sure if he had fallen asleep, or not, but was informed he had been in the room for the full six hours, which was longer than almost any other participant to date. The data they obtained was helpful, and they debriefed him on his experience, including a questionnaire. 

Jay was quite animated after their debrief, and assured him she would be in touch at a later date. Then they deposited the test money into his Venmo account. 

“We are paying you right now,” Jay pressed a few buttons on her tablet, and nodded. 

Markus’ phone buzzed in his pocket. He looked at the Venmo message, and his heart skipped a beat. “Is there a mistake?”

“No mistake,” Jay said.  “To be frank,” she became a bit more animated, as they walked the lobby to the front door. “No other recent test subject has ever stayed the full six hours. We are giving you the full sum allotted to a full day test.” 

Markus shook her hand, “Thank you, thank you so much!” He decided to leave quickly before they changed their mind or delivered a catch. 

On the bus, heading home, he looked at his phone in disbelief.

$1,000.00 USD

“That’s a lot of burritos…” 

***

A few stops before home, Markus got off the bus, and grabbed some tacos, then headed to the cemetery. He sat at his late-wife’s graveside, and placed a taco on the headstone. “This one is yours,” and he held his up to hers as if it were a toast. 

The cemetery was peaceful, and he always felt like he belonged here for some reason. “It’s been three years…”  he said quietly to the headstone. “What are we going to do, Kitten? This is a lot of money, but it won’t last long.” 

A light breeze whipped some wind chimes into song, and then a light shone through the clouds onto the center of a tree trunk nearby. The light grew until it was nearly blinding, then opened into a scene in front of him, with distant figures and shapes moving inside. “No no no no no no… ”, he said and ran home. 

After shutting the door behind him, Janie the Cat walked up and walked through his legs several times. His breath finally caught up with him, and he shook his head, and rubbed his eyes. 

“I’m losing it Janie girl,” he said. 

Pacing the room, his phone rang to the Esion Etihw Institute, no answer. He tried ten more times, and finally relented to leaving a voice-mail. “You told me to call if there were any lingering side effects. Give me a call back.”

Then he remembered that he forgot to stop at the store on the way home. He looked at Janie apologetically, then noticed the birthday card on the cabinet door. It was taped there by his late-wife, who was also a Janie, which is how Janie the Cat got her name. He was used to speaking with Janie the Human, but she’s gone. So when the cat showed up, she became Janie the Cat. 

He opened the card, and saw her handwriting, “Welcome to The Suck - May the Odds Be Ever In Your Favor. Happy 30th Birthday.” Markus ached for her, for the memory, for the day, for his unraveling mental health.

*Meow* Janie the Cat looked at the cabinet door in anticipation. 

Markus opened the door to see if there was any cat food left. He began reaching for what might be a can of tuna hiding in the back, when the entire doorway burst into light. 

Just then, Janie jumped up into his arms causing him to lose his balance, and he fell into the light.

“No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no-”

***

When his vision returned, Markus found himself on his back, on the grass, looking at a sunny day with clouds dotting the sky, barely hiding the three suns. 

Three suns!? He bolted to an upright position and looked around. 

Janie the Cat was perched on a nearby rock. All around them was a forest of pine trees. As Markus stood, shakily, feeling his body for injuries, he felt a faint buzzing all around him and in him. 

He did not notice any other people or animals, and then looked back to Janie the Cat, “What have we gotten into now? What kind of drugs did they give me?” 

“I wondered when you were going to wake up.” 

Markus looked around for the voice, pivoting a full 360 degrees. But he saw no other people. “I need to wake up, I need to wake up, I need to wake up and get home…” 

“Home? Why,” the voice clearly now coming from Janie the Cat. “After all the effort it took to get you back here, that’s just rude,” she teased.

Markus stared at her in disbelief, “Did you just talk? Wait, Back here? Wait, did you just talk?”

Janie settled into a curl, front paws in folded onto one another, “Well not here, exactly. Here, but not here. Not now. Now is not then. But now is still here. Then is here. But then is not now.” She paused, bobbing her head side to side, thoughtfully, chewing on that explanation, and then looked back to him and smiled.

“You’re a talking cat,” Markus said to himself. “This is a really weird trip.” Then he remembered eating the gummy at the testing center. “Ah, this is a trip. I’m on an LSD trip, or whatever was in that gummy. I really need to wake up.”

Then he got dizzy, and placed his hand on a tree trunk to steady himself. 

“Eat this,” Janie said. A small piece of bread floated to him. 

“Isn’t that how I got into this mess?” Markus said. “My cat is talking and sending me bread with telekinesis. This is a weird freaking trip.” 

“Technically, not telekinesis, it is Mishkahlism.” Janie’s voice was calm and curious, not rushed. “It is using the mind, but all Manna Arts use the mind and will. Specifically, in this case, I am simply changing the density of the object in relation to the mass around it, not dissimilar to the way a balloon full of air stays on the ground but when full of Helium it floats. It’s just basic science. Well, for these parts anyway.”

“I see…” Markus started, then let the phrase fade slowly off his tongue. “Um. Huh.” 

Markus eyed the floating bread carefully, then looked at it from various angles, as it bobbed ever so slightly in the air. He waved his hands above and below and around. It reminded him vaguely of a scone.

“No strings,” He said more to himself than to Janie. Hesitantly, he took the bread floating steadily in front of him, and gave her one last look. 

Janie motioned to him with her paw and nodded. 

“I mean,” Markus said to her. “I’m already on a trip, so, why not eat floating magical bread while talking to a cat that talks back.” 

Taking a small hesitant nibble, Markus noted the taste was bland, somewhat bitter, with a slight sweetness that offset the bitter. He could imagine liking it with some butter and honey. 

“It’s a bit dry,” He coughed some crumbs. 

“Oh yes, yes yes,” Janie chided herself. “How silly of me. Come-come.” She hopped down from the rock and nodded for him to follow.” 

Janie meandered in a sauntering non-straight line through the trees, humming a tune to herself that sounded familiar. 

“Is that Moonlight Serenade by Glenn Miller?” He asked her. 

“Indeed,” Janie smiled at back at him before continuing their journey. “It is one of my favorite songs from your reality.”

They walked through the forest a few moments and just beyond their clearing, over a hill, they came up to a stream. Janie approached, sniffed the stream, and licked some water for herself. Then she tasted it with a thoughtful posture for a moment. Finally, she turned to Markus, “It’s safe. This water is Tov. You can drink it.” 

Still feeling dryness in his mouth from the crumbs of his nibble, he drank the water by cupping his hands to his mouth. With the water making it palatable, he finished the bread. A sense of energy washed over him and his whole body became warmer, his muscles stronger, and his mind clearer. 

“What is that?” 

“It’s a Manna Cake. I think that particular one is from Skybread, though I much prefer Ethereal Bites or Angel’s Crust. But it’s been in my dimensional storage so long, I’m not quite sure who made it now.”

“You have dimensional storage?” Markus raised his eyebrow at her. 

“Heavens yes,” Janie said, clicking her tongue at him. “Tch tch tch tch tch. I never would have survived living with you if I didn’t gather and store my own food.” 

Markus felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment and guilt, “Oh, um, Geeze, I’m sorry about that. I’ve just been so…” He trailed off, not sure how to finish the sentence, and then still feeling crazy for talking to a cat that talks back. 

“Markus,” Janie sat up straighter. “Look at me.” 

He found himself staring into her dual colored eyes for a moment, seeing in them a person and not a pet for the first time.

“It’s not your fault. The accident, the way you’ve been living, the pain, the lack of self-care-” her voice cut off as the sound of branches breaking in the near distance caught both of their attention. 

“Oh bother,” Janie finally said. “Not yet, he’s not ready. I just got him here.” She spoke staring up at the sky, listening for a moment. She paused, then replied to the sky “Ugh! Fine, fine.” 

She walked up to Markus, who was still sitting on the grass near the stream. 

“I need you to listen carefully. Pick up that stick.” Janie nodded to a stick about the length of his leg. 

He felt a sense of urgency in her voice that wasn’t there before, so he picked it up. The stick felt good in his hand, almost like playing swords as a kid. 

“Listen!” Janie warned with new urgency. The sound of something brushing against the trees and breaking twigs came closer. 

“Tell the stick to defend you. Say it. ‘Defend me’. Do it, now!” 

Markus felt cold sweat rush down his back at the mystery sounds coming, and the sudden urgency of her tone. 

“Um…” He tried to find his voice. “Defend me, Mr Stick.” 

A surge of blue light encircled his body, flowed down his arms and enveloped the stick. It began to pulse and grow brighter blue, and then a faint humming sound came from the pulses. Images of a Jedi holding a light saber rush through his mind. 

Out of the trees walked a huge white and grey wolf, on all fours, with neck-hair bristling to a point. It was nearly the same size as Markus, and possibly heavier. Behind it, three smaller wolves flanked. 

His skin felt prickly, and his palms sweaty, as Markus held the stick tighter. It began pulsing with energy and blue light.

The lead wolf glanced at Janie, who was now perched on a tree branch up high, and growled in a low barely audible tone. After a few deafening moments, it slowly drew its gaze back to Markus, who took a step back at the eye contact.

Suffocating stillness lasting for a few moments, Markus barely breathing. 

Couching on his front paws, then bouncing forward, the wolf lunged at Markus, teeth snapping open. 

More from fearful instinct than anything resembling skill, Markus swung the glowing stick and it struck the wolf in the shoulder, making hissing sound as it made contact. 

The wolf was thrown to the side and rolled a few feet away. On the side that was struck, a black mark of burned skin and hair let off the smell of burning flesh, and possibly bone showing through the wound.

“You’re going to pay for that,” the wolf said. 

“Oh, great,” Markus replied. “The deadly wolves are talking now too.” 
 
The wolf paused, looked from Markus, to Janie, to Markus to Janie. “Oh, no…” he laughed mockingly. “You didn’t, you cheater.” 

“Kill him,” one of the smaller wolves remarked as it walked forward.

“He is mine,” the first wolf barked behind him, and the smaller wolf backed off. 

The lead wolf lunged again. 

Now flooded with stress hormones and some weird pulsing energy, Markus switched his grip and moved one leg back into a baseball bat stance, then struck down with the glowing stick-saber. He flinched at the sight of huge jaws coming his way - the sounds rushed him. Stick making contact, bone cracking, and flesh searing. 

Then stillness-

When he peeked, the body of the wolf was torn in half on each side of him, blood pooling at his feet. 

The other three glanced at their leader, then to Markus, then took off running into the woods shouting behind them, “We’ll be back, wolf killer!” 

Markus eyed the pooling blood and began to throw up all over it.

He ran to the stream, washing his mouth out, and the blood from his hands and arms. He scrubbed furiously at his arms, then sat by the stream shaking slightly. 

“Well done,” Janie the cat said, from a high tree branch. “I didn’t think you were ready, I guess I was wrong.” 

“What the hell was that?” Markus said, half to Janie, half to himself. 

“That was your orientation?” Janie offered, shrugging. 

“Orientation?!” 

“You’re a bit tense,” Janie observed. 

“Tense. Tense, the talking cat says,” Markus began pacing by the water. 

“Tense,” Janie said. “Yes. You are tense. This should help.”

Just then, Markus’ arm burned slightly, and words began to appear on his arm in a readable yet artistic script. “Wolf Killer” glowed in a blue font on his left forearm.

“You always wanted a tattoo,” Janie offered.

Markus, still shaking and pacing, now focused on the blue, grey, and white colors radiating and pulsing from the new tattoo. 

“I almost died just now,” Markus complained.

“I’m sorry,” Janie replied. “I always forget that people from your reality need to adjust to this world. You’ve been through a lot. I’ll take you somewhere to adjust and process.” 

The glowing script on Markus’ arm faded, and he began to feel light headed and weak, “I don’t feel so good.”

“Oh, Manna drag…” Janie said. “You need to rest. Yes. Food. Rest. Process. But not here. First we get you cleaned up. Go get into the stream and wash all that junk off.” Janie touched the water with her paw, and gestured for him to enter.

He wasn’t thrilled about getting into the water, but he almost threw up again looking at the wolf’s blood on his pants and shirt, so he didn’t argue. As he walked into the stream, which had been cold when he drank, it became just warm enough to be tolerable. Markus scrubbed at his clothes until the water around him was clear. 

“We’ll get you new clothes,” Janie said as he walked out of the stream. She blew at him and a warm wind blew softly over him. A few moments later, his clothes were dry, though still stained red. Then she pulled another small cake from her dimensional space and it floated to him. 

“Eat,” She said. “This will restore you energy. We need to get you to a safer spot to rest.” 

***

As they entered a clearing, a tent and campfire up ahead were inside a circle of white powder. As they crossed the line, a previously invisible barrier flashed with tint of blue before disappearing again. 

“You’ll be safe here.” Janie walked to warm herself by the fire. 

As he sat down, Markus exhaustion washed over him. Making eye contact with Janie the Cat, he said, “Have you always been able to talk?”

“Yes,” She replied. 

“Why didn’t you talk when we were in my apartment the last three years?” 

“Cats don’t talk in your reality,” She said, then pursed her cat mouth thoughtfully. “Well… Not normally, not audibly.” She shrugged. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Markus challenged.

“Rest,” She replied. “You need rest. Plenty of time for questions. For now, you rest.” She nodded to the tent. “You’ll be safe here.” 

Seeing the three suns setting, and a purple moon with pink rings taking prominence in the sky, Markus nodded agreement. 

As he laid down, pulling a large wool blanket over him, he felt the exhaustion wash over him. Janie curled up at his feet, guarding the doorway. 

“This is a dream?” Markus asked Janie. “Right?”

“Shh,” She said simply. “I’ll get someone to help you transition tomorrow.” 

As he faded, he thought this was a weird trip. He expected he would wake up in his apartment or in a hospital back home, and have new stories to write about.


***
Authors note - Let me know if anything made you laugh, or if you felt disconnected at any point. I’d love to know.
***

Manna, Sarcasm, & Burritos (MSB)

Manna, Sarcasm, & Burritos (MSB) (Working Title...) 

Markus lost his wife and career, and now he’s struggling to maintain a basic existence. His highest hopes are for a burrito and a distracting sitcom. His financial needs lead him to take part as a paid test subject which leaves him having hallucinations of a portal to another reality. 

Markus is then sucked into this portal with his cat Janie, only to find that she is a talking cat, and may actually be a powerful being who organized the entire event to get him to her reality. 

After using a stick turned light-saber to kill a dangerous wolf, earning himself a magical tattoo, Markus meets Ko’Akh, a Threxan dinosaur man, and begins his journey into a world of magicians and danger, he only hopes this new world has burritos!  



Guiding Principle: 

In this science-fantasy, the use and study of magical Manna blurs the lines between science, magic, and theology. It offers new ways to explore age-old ideas inside exciting adventures.


Cover is a placeholder, AI Generated 



This cover is a placeholder, AI Generated 





 

Shalom: Live Long and Prosper!
Darrell Wolfe (DG Wolfe)
Storyteller | Writer | Thinker | Consultant @ DarrellWolfe.com

Clifton StrengthsFinder: Intellection, Learner, Ideation, Achiever, Input
16Personalities (Myers-Briggs Type): INFJ


Saturday, February 15, 2025

FAAFO (Fuck Around, And Find Out) | Manna, Sarcasm, & Burritos (MSB), Season 1

Manna, Sarcasm, & Burritos (MSB), Season 1

FAAFO (Fuck Around, And Find Out)


First things first…

While humorous, this working title has a purpose. 

TLDR: I want to try an experiment, test the results, and pivot as needed. I want to Fuck Around… and Find Out if it works. Ha ha. I’m sure Royal Road won’t let me post that title, so I’ll come up with something better for the postings. 

I’ve been studying the craft of writing for years now. I kept running into dead-ends with my main story (White Noise, Distortion). I will get back to it someday, but I’m too close to it, and I need a new outlet. 

I heard that Shirtaloon (Travis Deverell) was a fellow academic, a graduate student. He just NEEDED to write something silly, so he started “He Who Fights with Monsters” on Royal Road. It took off, and eventually he started an entire brand around it. 


In the middle of penning a dry academic paper, Shirtaloon had a revelation: he desperately needed to write something very silly. 
It all begins with an idea. Maybe you want to launch a business. Maybe you want to turn a hobby into something more. Or maybe you have a creative project to share with the world. Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference. 
To his surprise and delight, he found a warm and welcoming audience in the world of online serialized fiction. Transitioning his work into actual books, he is continually startled at the appetite for his particular blend of high magic, wild adventure and absurd nonsense. 
Success has allowed him to fund an excessive board game collection he doesn’t have time to play because he’s always writing. The unplayed games sit on the shelves behind him as he works, silently judging.


Along with the other authors and writing teachers I have listed at Writing StoryCraft Database, Shirtaloon is my inspiration for taking this next journey. 

I want to start a new story, to which I have no emotional ties. Take it as far as it will go, be that three chapters, or three hundred chapters, and take it further if it gains traction. 

Ultimately, I just want an outlet to practice fiction with low commitment. 

As such, I want to post the chapters on Royal Road, Substack, and my own personal blog (DarrellWolfe.com), offer the option of “Buy Me a Coffee” but make no promises as to the frequency of my writing at this time. If for some reason it really takes off, I will dedicate to it full-time, but for now, I just want an outlet to practice without the commitment of writing a book in full. I also know this is a great way to get alpha and beta readers to provide feedback, so I hope to improve my craft over time. 


DarrellWolfe.com





AI Disclosure

"I utilize artificial intelligence to assist with brainstorming ideas, conducting research, and performing basic editing tasks for my stories. However, I do not use AI to write my stories or to generate extensive portions of content. My use of AI is strictly as a supportive tool to enhance my own creative process."


This story is about…


Right now I only have a vague idea and I'm going to start with posting one chapter only and then decide where it goes. 

I do vaguely believe that the character starts off both financially devastated and personally devastated as a young widower. Out of necessity, Mark decides to take part in an experiment as a test subject for money. Plus he figures his life can't get any worse. After the experiment he discovers the ability to see beyond the veil. But then, he is sucked into an alternate universe full of read gods, myths, legends, magic, etc. 

The alternate universe will have an litRPG style progression, but may or may not have the video game tropes. I suspect his sense of progression will come through magical texts, gods called Watchers, and his ability development.

The story will definitely have magic and magical creatures and pull from the ancient near East Divine Council themes and mythologies. 

It might even pull some Akkadian, Ugaritic, and Hebrew language, although it will be transliterated and probably fictionalized or morphed for the story purposes. 

In much the same way Stargate SG1 felt grounded because it pulled from actual Myths and Legends, from the real world, I want to do the same. I will eventually pulls from as many cultures as possible, ANE, Egyptian, Europe/Thor?, China, Choctaw/indigenous peoples, etc. But they will be morphed into my story needs and fictionalized.

I want the tone to be sarcastic and fun, but also handle serious topics, pulling from religion, history, philosophy, psychology, and more.

Mark is a 30-year old widower, who was financially devastated as a result of his wife’s death, and he finds an advert to get paid as a test subject. The results leave him interacting with the unseen realm, and eventually sucked into an alternate reality. 

Will this story start en-media-res, or will it start right there? I think I’ll write those scenes for discovery and then decide what actually becomes the origin post.

I think on the blog, I will post under two tags:
  • FAAFO - For updates about what I'm learning, or the craft of writing, business of writing, etc.
  • WatcherChronicles - Chapters/Episodes, actual fiction writing.

Let the fucking around and finding out begin… 




 

Shalom: Live Long and Prosper!
Darrell Wolfe (DG Wolfe)
Storyteller | Writer | Thinker | Consultant @ DarrellWolfe.com

Clifton StrengthsFinder: Intellection, Learner, Ideation, Achiever, Input
16Personalities (Myers-Briggs Type): INFJ


Wednesday, January 29, 2025

The Freedom Center --> This is just a church... isn't it? Sigh....

I'm the guy who keeps desperately trying to NOT be a "pastor" has this idea. While specifics have changes, this core idea has been growing since at least 2003.... "It's not a church, it's...."

I looked at this summary below of my ideas (but better organized by AI) and thought to myself,

"This is a church, isn't it? 
There is no concert followed by a public speaker (although I could see how that could happen too)... 
This is just a different expression of, and reimagining of, a church in a new format. A "Fresh Expression". I would want to make sure the format and resources were always free, like the BibleProject has modeled.
But at the heart, this is just a church isn't it? 
After all that running... Am I just "pastor" hiding behind other titles? Ha ha... Sigh...."

Well... I'll just sit with that feeling for now. I'm not sure what to do with it. I don't have to "make" anything happen. The idea has been percolating since at least 2003, it can keep percolating until the path becomes clear. But... I'm really afraid this is a church. Ha ha ha... 


AI Response (DeepSeek) - 2:

The Freedom Center is a fantastic name—it evokes liberation, growth, and exploration, which aligns perfectly with your vision. Let’s refine and expand the concept with this name in mind, ensuring it captures the essence of what you’re trying to build.


Mission Statement for The Freedom Center

"The Freedom Center is a community dedicated to fostering spiritual, intellectual, and emotional growth. We provide a safe space for individuals to explore ancient wisdom, develop critical thinking skills, and engage in meaningful dialogue—free from dogma, judgment, or pressure. Through interdisciplinary learning, therapeutic support, and communal reflection, we empower people to wrestle with big questions, grow in self-awareness, and apply timeless insights to modern life."


Core Values of The Freedom Center

  1. Freedom: Liberation from rigid doctrines, creeds, and traditions; freedom to question, explore, and grow.
  2. Curiosity: A commitment to asking questions, seeking understanding, and embracing uncertainty.
  3. Community: A safe, inclusive space where people can share, learn, and grow together.
  4. Wisdom: Engaging with ancient texts and ideas as sources of meditative wisdom, not prescriptive rules.
  5. Integration: Blending spiritual, intellectual, and emotional growth into a holistic approach to life.

Programs and Offerings

  1. Freedom Circles (Small Groups):
    • Bible Exploration: Contextual, ANE/2nd Temple-focused readings of Scripture as wisdom literature.
    • Wisdom Dialogues: Discussions on philosophical, theological, and psychological topics.
    • Therapeutic Groups: Facilitated sessions focused on emotional and spiritual growth.
  2. Freedom Labs (Workshops and Courses):
    • Critical Thinking 101: Teaching skills for analyzing ideas, avoiding fallacies, and engaging in constructive dialogue.
    • Ancient Wisdom for Modern Life: Applying biblical and philosophical insights to contemporary challenges.
    • Emotional Intelligence: Workshops on self-awareness, empathy, and healthy communication.
  3. Freedom Forums (Events and Guest Speakers):
    • Scholar Series: Inviting biblical scholars, theologians, and philosophers to share their insights.
    • Community Conversations: Open forums on topics like justice, forgiveness, love, and meaning.
    • Creative Expression: Art, music, and writing workshops to explore spirituality and self-expression.
  4. Freedom Therapy (Therapeutic Support):
    • Lay Counseling: Trained facilitators offering non-clinical support for emotional and spiritual growth.
    • Therapist Partnerships: Collaborating with licensed professionals for clinical needs.
    • Support Groups: Focused on specific issues like grief, addiction, or relationships.
  5. Freedom Online (Digital Resources):
    • Resource Library: Articles, videos, and courses on biblical studies, critical thinking, and emotional growth.
    • Virtual Freedom Circles: Online small groups for remote participants.
    • Podcast/YouTube Channel: Sharing teachings, interviews, and discussions.

Structure and Operations

  1. Local Chapters:
    • Meeting Spaces: Borrowed from community centers, churches, or homes.
    • Facilitators: Trained volunteers who guide discussions and ensure a safe environment.
    • Autonomy: Local groups operate independently but align with the core principles of The Freedom Center.
  2. Governance:
    • Advisory Board: Composed of scholars, therapists, and community leaders to provide guidance.
    • Core Team: A small group overseeing operations, resources, and partnerships.
  3. Funding Model:
    • Donations: Voluntary contributions from participants (like AA/Al-Anon).
    • Workshop Fees: Charging modest fees for courses or events to sustain operations.
    • Grants: Seeking funding from foundations that support education, mental health, or spiritual growth.

Branding and Identity

  1. Logo and Visuals:
    • A logo that combines elements of openness (e.g., an open door, a tree, or a circle) with symbols of growth and exploration.
    • A color palette that feels warm, inviting, and modern (e.g., earthy tones with accents of blue or gold).
  2. Tone and Voice:
    • Conversational: Approachable and inclusive, avoiding overly academic or religious jargon.
    • Empowering: Encouraging curiosity, growth, and self-discovery.
    • Hopeful: Emphasizing freedom, transformation, and community.

First Steps to Launch

  1. Pilot Program:
    • Start with a small group (in-person or online) to test the format and gather feedback.
    • Focus on one or two core offerings (e.g., a Bible Exploration group and a Critical Thinking workshop).
  2. Build a Team:
    • Recruit facilitators, therapists, and scholars who share your vision.
    • Train them in the principles and practices of The Freedom Center.
  3. Create Resources:
    • Develop materials for Bible study, critical thinking, and emotional growth.
    • Record introductory videos or podcasts to explain the vision and invite participation.
  4. Promote the Initiative:
    • Use social media, local networks, and partnerships to spread the word.
    • Host a launch event or open house to introduce The Freedom Center to the community.

Long-Term Vision

The Freedom Center could grow into a network of local and online communities, offering a unique blend of spiritual, intellectual, and emotional support. Over time, it could become a movement that helps people engage with ancient wisdom, develop critical thinking skills, and grow in emotional intelligence—all within a supportive, non-dogmatic community.

By staying true to your core values and fostering a culture of curiosity and compassion, The Freedom Center could become a transformative force in the lives of countless individuals.



AI Response (DeepSeek) - 1:

Your vision is both ambitious and deeply meaningful, blending spiritual exploration, intellectual growth, and emotional support into a cohesive community experience. To organize this into something coherent, let’s break it down into core components, principles, and actionable steps, drawing inspiration from the structure of groups like Al-Anon or AA while tailoring it to your unique goals.


Core Principles and Practices

  1. Shared Practices and Principles (like AA/Al-Anon):
    • Non-dogmatic Approach: Avoid rigid doctrines, creeds, or "we believe" statements. Focus on exploration, questioning, and personal growth.
    • Community-Centered: Emphasize shared learning and mutual support rather than hierarchical leadership.
    • Anonymity and Safety: Create a safe space where people can share openly without fear of judgment or proselytization.
    • Voluntary Participation: No pressure to conform or commit; people can engage as much or as little as they feel comfortable.
  2. Biblical Engagement:
    • Contextual Reading: Teach participants to read the Bible through the lens of its Ancient Near Eastern (ANE) and Second Temple worldview.
    • Wisdom Meditation: Approach the text as meditative wisdom literature rather than prescriptive law.
    • Theological Wrestling: Encourage deep, honest engagement with the text and its implications for modern life.
  3. Critical Thinking and Emotional Growth:
    • Critical Thinking Skills: Teach participants how to analyze ideas, ask questions, and engage in constructive dialogue.
    • Emotional Intelligence: Foster curiosity, empathy, and the ability to engage without defensiveness.
    • Therapeutic Support: Offer group sessions that blend spiritual and emotional growth, with referrals to licensed therapists when needed.
  4. Holistic Integration:
    • Interdisciplinary Approach: Combine insights from academic biblical studies, philosophy, theology, and psychology.
    • Practical Application: Help participants apply ancient wisdom to contemporary challenges in a thoughtful, nuanced way.

Structure and Format

  1. Local Groups:
    • Meeting Spaces: Borrow space from community centers, churches, libraries, or even homes (like AA/Al-Anon).
    • Regular Gatherings: Weekly or bi-weekly meetings with a flexible structure (e.g., discussion, meditation, teaching, or group therapy).
    • Facilitators: Trained lay leaders who guide discussions and ensure a safe, respectful environment.
  2. Program Offerings:
    • Bible Study Groups: Focused on contextual reading and wisdom meditation.
    • Critical Thinking Workshops: Teach skills for analyzing ideas and engaging in dialogue.
    • Therapeutic Groups: Facilitated discussions on emotional and spiritual growth, with referrals to licensed therapists as needed.
    • Guest Speakers: Invite scholars, therapists, or theologians to share insights on specific topics.
  3. Online Presence:
    • Resource Hub: Offer articles, videos, and courses on biblical studies, critical thinking, and emotional growth.
    • Virtual Meetings: Allow people to participate remotely, fostering a broader community.
  4. Partnerships:
    • Therapists: Collaborate with licensed professionals to provide clinical support when needed.
    • Academic Institutions: Partner with seminaries or universities to offer accredited courses or certifications.
    • Existing Organizations: Work with groups like Fuller Theological Seminary or local churches to expand reach and resources.

Name and Identity

Your initiative needs a name that reflects its purpose and values. Consider something that evokes exploration, community, and growth. Examples:

  • The Wrestling Ground: Emphasizes the idea of wrestling with God and ideas.
  • Wisdom Commons: Highlights the communal pursuit of wisdom.
  • Open Table: Suggests inclusivity and shared exploration.
  • The Thinking Faith Collective: Combines intellectual and spiritual growth.

Governance and Funding

  1. Governance:
    • Local Autonomy: Like AA/Al-Anon, allow local groups to operate independently while adhering to core principles.
    • Advisory Board: Form a board of scholars, therapists, and community leaders to provide guidance and oversight.
  2. Funding:
    • Donations: Rely on voluntary contributions from participants (like AA/Al-Anon).
    • Grants: Seek funding from foundations that support education, mental health, or spiritual growth.
    • Workshops/Courses: Offer paid courses or certifications to sustain the initiative.

First Steps

  1. Define Your Vision: Write a clear mission statement and core principles.
  2. Start Small: Launch a pilot group in your local area or online.
  3. Build a Team: Recruit facilitators, therapists, and scholars who share your vision.
  4. Create Resources: Develop materials for Bible study, critical thinking, and emotional growth.
  5. Promote the Initiative: Use social media, local networks, and partnerships to spread the word.

Long-Term Vision

Over time, your initiative could grow into a network of local and online communities, offering a unique blend of spiritual, intellectual, and emotional support. By staying true to your core principles and fostering a culture of curiosity and compassion, you could create a movement that helps people engage with ancient wisdom in a way that is both authentic and transformative.

This is a big idea, but it’s also deeply needed in today’s world. By starting small and staying focused on your vision, you can build something truly impactful.




AI Prompt (DeepSeek):

Background: Al-Anon/AA/NA/CoDA/Celebrate Recovery all operate on a similar principle. The meeting location is largely irrelevant (wherever space can be found), but there is shared set of practices and principles upon which they internally operate, and most of them share a large overlap of those even with each other. They aren't a "Church", they don't own buildings, they don't even have LLCs in most cases, although they have some governance locally and nationally (albeit loosely).   -----> In much the same way, I'm feeling an increasing desire over the last decade to start.... SOMETHING?.... related to both helping people read the bible more authentically (free from doctrines, creeds, and traditions, and 'we believe' commitments) while also providing a place for people to think better. Learn critical thinking skills, how to get curious and not defensive, etc. How to understand the biblical authors ANE/2nd Temple worldview, what it means to read the bible as wisdom meditation literature and not "law", and then think about that wisdom in today's context theologically. Not stripping words and blindly applying them to today, but really "wrestling with God" as Jacob is said to have done, and do so in community. I would also like to offer a variety of group sessions that border on therapy or at least therapeutic, and partner with licensed therapists for those who need clinical assistance, while offering (very well trained) "lay counseling", in line with Siang-Yang Tan's philosophy. In some ways, Academic Biblical Studies, Critical Thinking courses, Philosophy, Theology, and Psychology seem a disparate group of things to homogenize into a single (?Group, Organization, Event, Label?). But in other ways, it seems natural, and indeed Fuller Theological Seminary blends many Theology/Psychology programs. Help me organize this thought into something coherent.




 

Shalom: Live Long and Prosper!
Darrell Wolfe (DG Wolfe)
Storyteller | Writer | Thinker | Consultant @ DarrellWolfe.com

Clifton StrengthsFinder: Intellection, Learner, Ideation, Achiever, Input
16Personalities (Myers-Briggs Type): INFJ


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