Tales of Adventure

from the Legend of the Golden Dragon

As translated from the Olde Tongue

By Michael Andrews

Copyright © 2019

Illustrations

By

Mary Ann Leveck

The Legend of the Golden Dragon

On a hill in faraway Sunterland stands a mighty stone in the shape of a pegasus

and rider. By the light of the setting sun they glow like golden fire. Legend has it

that when the Teacher of the Golden Cross walks this earth again, she will breathe

life back into the wondrous two so they may resume the epic battle that wages

from universe to universe. The warrior with the piercing eyes that see all will

gallop once again upon the wind. Men will cover their heads in terror, for the great

avenger spares no one that attracts his wrath. In his right hand he raises the

flaming sword of Justice, and in his left he carries the mirror shield of reflection

that reveals the damned to themselves. He fears no one, for he is fear itself.

He has stood watch, patiently waiting for his master to spin sunlight into the web

of energy that gives life to his granite form. Slowly, persistently, she weaves a

silver thread of light around each atom of stone, until finally the solid bonds

binding them are replaced by vibrant, glowing ones. He will ride as if surrounded

by a halo; he is the densest matter and the purest sunlight. And because he stands

equally between the two, he becomes a judge of all things.

The web pulsates, and slowly as the gently creeping rays of the early morning sun

fall on him, each muscle begins to twitch in response to their warming. Slowly the

eyes begin to register the new dawn. What time is this? And what place? So long

have I slumbered. Time is naught in slumber. But now I must begin to endure the

burden of events that mark the passage of time. Time – a measure of the

beginning to the end of a thought. If the thought provokes a new thought, then

time becomes a continuum. Great Brahma has put forth a thought and I am awake.

It is time to rouse myself and gather my energies, for I have work to do. Never do

I awaken without the battle near. My teacher calls, and I respond to she of the

Golden Cross. I hear the cries and know the pain of those striving to reach

upward, adversity their spur and teacher. Brethren, my muscles gain strength

quickly, and I pull the mighty sword from the stony sheath where it has lain hidden.

Table of Contents

Book One: Quest for the Dragon

Chapter 1……The Jeweled Dagger

Chapter 2……The Legend of the Golden Dragon

Chapter 3……The Return of the Dragon

Chapter 4……The Telling Tale

Chapter 5……Friendship

Chapter 6……The Flaming Sword of Justice

Book Two: Reflection in the Mirror

Chapter 1……The Ancient Ruins

Chapter 2……Friendship…of a Sort

Chapter 3……Down the Stairwell

Chapter 4……The Tears of My Heart

Chapter 5……The Golden Cross

Book Three: The Monster

Chapter 1……The Monster at the Top of the Stairs

Chapter 2……Corridor of Windows

Chapter 3……Channels Between the Worlds

Chapter 4……Doorway to the Stars

Book Four: The Earth’s Baby

Chapter 1……Journey to Another World

Chapter 2……Passage Between Two Worlds

Chapter 3……The Egg

Chapter 4……Home Again

Book One

Quest for the Dragon

Chapter 1……The Jeweled Dagger

Come my children and let me tell you a tale of adventure from the legend of the

Golden Dragon. Far, far away our journey begins, at a time long ago in a place

unknown to mankind now. It was a world with two suns, and bedeviled by sorcery

and demons.

There lived a boy named Erick with hair the color of flame and eyes the green of

new spring pasture. Humble of nature and pure of heart, he went about his

business unnoticed by all. Ev’n the great war horses, whose feed and water he

tended so carefully, ignored the poor lad. For Erick was a peasant’s son, brought to

the castle only because of direst need. All the other young boys, including sons of

the lords, were stolen in the deepest night from their cribs; taken by the foulest

evil for no good to come of it.

For in that land and time there lived half men – half horses who moved upon the

earth with naught good purposes. Centaurs they were, and they practiced the

blackest magic. Controlling the thoughts and actions of others was their past-

time, spells and chants their way of life. But their race having no females, it was

their lot to be childless, and so they had no demon heirs to pass their legacy of evil

onto. And so they stole the poor babes, and through sorcery and chants, turned

them into the ugliness they themselves were.

Into this world Erick was born to a poor wretched mother cast off by his father,

a powerful warlord of Sunterland who later died in battle. Off she went into the

deep woods and had her child, raising it to toddling stage with the help of kind

fairies. But realizing the child needed more than the companionship of flitting

little beings that sometimes you could see and sometimes you could not, she

returned to the world of civilization, or at least they called it that, and married a

poor but kind peasant.

And so Erick grew up to the age of twelve with the knowledge of the unseen

world. Unseen I call it for most of the humans, they were not privileged to see the

fairies. No, the fairies they kept their distance from everyone. For the centaurs,

they hunted the fairy children also, and considered a fairy babe ev’n better than a

human. For the bright sparkling eyes, you know. And the humans, they made cruel

sport of the fairies if they got the chance. For the little fairies were very slight

of build and did not lend themselves well to the war games played by the humans.

But for beauty the fairies, they were unequalled. And many a woodsman lost his

heart to a lovely little wood sprite flitting among the wildflowers. And like as not

she would make sport of him, stealing his heart for her own delight.

And so you can see, Erick was a rare one, he was. Living among the humans, for

they kept him well fed, and yet friend of the little people. When the day’s chores

were done he would slip away into the woods by himself and go play among the huge

rocks of a mighty ruined castle of memories long ago. There he would encounter

the moss fairies, his favorites, and discuss such important issues as the weather

and how he was doing that day. His little friends enjoyed his company mightily for

unlike the dull and selfish humans, they could see the bright and glowing energy

around Erick that gave him a loving air.

But Erick knew not of this. He only knew that here among the rocks he could

think about his lot in life without being bothered by the contempt of others.

Today he sat and thought about Sir Gwey. Gwey was several years older than he

and one of the court favorites. His was the best horse and he wielded a sword like

it was a part of him. Erick also thought he was a good man, and especially today for

Sir Gwey had said a kind word to him about the care he gave the big horses, much

like one would pat a stray cur on the head for feeling sorry of it.

His thoughts lost in clouds of fantasy, Erick did not see the Otherworldly figure

gliding silently towards him among the ancient stones until its shadow slipped o’er

his own. The lad cried out in terror thinking that he had been discovered by one of

the evil ones. Leaping up to run, Erick found himself entangled in a web of a

likeness he did not recognize. Then words gentle as a light breeze soothed his

fright.

“Careful, Little One. Do not harm yourself in your haste to flee my presence! I

mean you no harm. Look to me and fear not.”

Reluctantly Erick obeyed the command and found himself looking not at a centaur

as he had supposed but at a kind old face among the folds of a dark cloak. Erick

dimly sensed that this was not a man of the sort he was used to.

“Who are you? And why have you captured me? What good can I do you? I’m

only a peasant.” Erick’s fright slowly gave way to curiosity as the old man sat

quietly regarding him. “Why have you captured me with this net if you are not

going to do something? Are you going to kill me and eat me? Or make me into

something ugly? Why don’t you tell me?”

“Are you so impatient to die my young friend?” the old man asked gently, a soft

smile playing gracefully on the ancient face as the realization of his predicament

settled once again on Erick. “Do you fancy yourself a mighty warrior like Sir Gwey,

that you can challenge your captor so boldly?”

“Sir Gwey! Do you know him? You’ve not caught him too have you?” Erick

doubted the possibility even existed. This old man could never have sneaked up on

Sir Gwey like that.

“No, I would not have.”

“Huh!”

“I say no I could not have sneaked up on Sir Gwey so easily. You were very

careless Little One.” Erick was dumbstruck that the man knew his thoughts. “It is

a very dangerous forest for a young man to be about in alone. You walk unknowingly

in the protection of the nature spirits that inhabit the dark woods. The tree

spirits rustle their leaves as you go to cover the sound of your footsteps. But now

you must learn to exercise more care my young friend, for the sounds of battle

grow closer, and the time has come for your becoming a man and learning the arts

of a mighty warrior. Your sword awaits you.”

Erick was puzzled by the old man’s words. For he knew that his place would

always be with the horses, or at the most he might be permitted to tend the

armour of one of the warriors.

“There is much that you know not of my young friend. Tis time for the mighty

Golden Dragon to rouse from his slumber. And when he comes the sword will be

raised once again!” He gazed into the distance, his nostrils flared and eyes

brightened in anticipation of the return of the Golden Warrior.

Erick pondered in wonder that he had been captured by this seemingly harmless

but strange old creature that seemed to know his very thoughts. Abruptly the

ancient one turned back to Erick and pulled a jeweled dagger from beneath his

cloak. Erick’s eyes rounded in fright as the dagger appeared. The web held him

helpless to await his fate. The old man spoke reassuringly. “This is not to harm

you, lad. It is a gift. You’ll be needing it soon.” He then cut open the net, laid the

blade beside Erick, and vanished among the rocks of the ancient ruins.

Chapter 2……The Legend of the Golden Dragon

Now Erick was quite astounded by all the events that had just occurred, aye he

was. For who was this cloaked stranger to be giving him a weapon? And what was a

poor peasant keeper of horses to do with a fancy jeweled knife? If the others saw

it they would think for sure that he stole it some place, and it would be tons of

trouble for him he did not need. So Erick dug among the rocks until he found a

good hiding place and put the dagger therein and a heavy rock o’er the top of it.

Relieved of his burden, Erick realized the sun was setting and that made it time

for him to be getting back to feed the big horses. On his journey home Erick

became aware of the noise his feet made in the fallen leaves, for the tree spirits

no longer covered the sound of his going. Erick looked into the dark forest for his

friends but they were nowhere to be seen ‘cept one.

Warm tears dripped from the tree spirit’s leaves like heavy dew as she spoke.

“We cannot anymore to help you, my friend,” she whispered. “The Teacher forbid

us. It is time you learn to watch out by yourself. We give to you our protection as

long as possible, but we must let you now grow alone. For the Golden Warrior

returns, and we of the Otherworld rejoice to wait his coming. Take you care Erick,

for we of the forest love you.” So saying, she disappeared into the gloomy mist of

the forest.

With the mystery of the jeweled dagger and the dark words of the tree spirit

hanging o’er him, Erick returned to the stable not in the best of spirits. With his

mind thus preoccupied he filled the feed buckets with corn and molasses, doling

out an equal portion to each big horse. Lack of attention took its toll and Erick

tripped backwards o’er a bucket, spilling the lot of it. Thinking of a whipping if

someone should discover his folly, Erick hurried to scoop the sticky grain back in

the bucket. Then he grabbed something hard and sharp, for there in the middle of

the horsefeed lay the jeweled dagger.

“No, you can’t be here!” he cried. “I hid you!” Then realizing his shouts might

draw someone’s attention, he hurried to cover the dagger again with grain while he

thought what to do with it. But, alas, he was too late as another hand slipped under

his to grab the gilded hilt. Erick turned to be finding himself face to face with Sir

Gwey.

“Aye, and what would a lad like you be doing with a fine dagger like this pray tell,”

asked Gwey while studying Erick intently. “Answer me boy. I know you can talk.”

Gwey gazed at the dagger, its large central diamond, rubies and emeralds sparkling

in the candlelight.

Knowing Gwey believed he had stolen the dagger devastated Erick, for his was the

honest way, never touching what was not his. In his trips into the woods Erick saw

the simple happiness of the nature spirits, while the humans, they always seemed

to be wanting something else, especially if it wasn’t theirs.

“It’s not mine, Sir. I-I don’t know where it came from,” stammered Erick.

“Aye, and if it’s not yours, then how do you be hiding it as I heard you say. Be

honest, boy. Where did you get this, for it’s not something a peasant comes by

natural.”

Realizing Gwey had seen through his lie, Erick told the day’s happenings, feeling

sure to be thought an even bigger liar. “I didn’t steal it, Sir. Honest I didn’t.”

“Aye, I believe you lad. Your tale’s too fantastic to be less than true. Besides,

you’ve been playing in a strange place, you have. Know you not that the ruins are

haunted?”

“Nye,” said Erick. “I’ve heard no such tales. And the fairies, they say there is

nothing to fear there.”

“And where were your fairy friends today when you were trapped like a hare by a

crazy old hermit? Left you to your fate, did they?”

Erick squirmed under the probing questions. Where had his fairy friends gone?

And why did they not warn him of the approach of the old man? “I don’t know

where they went,” he mumbled.

“Everyone knows the place is guarded by a mighty warrior,” Gwey said. “His ghost

roams the passageways in the rocks, searching for demons to slay. They say his

winged horse stays ever at his side.” His cheeks flushed with excitement as Sir

Gwey told Erick of the many nights he had sat listening to tales of the Golden

Dragon, imagining himself astride the magnificent pegasus while wielding the great

sword of Justice against the evil centaurs. “Aye, he’s a magnificent Golden

warrior, he is. He shines like the suns when he walks the earth. But it’s been many

generations since he lived.”

Erick listened in wonder, for he recalled the old man spoke of the Golden Dragon

and the tree spirit had also said the Golden Warrior was soon to return. A hushed

silence fell o’er both our young lads as the meaning of the day’s events grew on

them.

“So that means he’s soon coming back, do you think so Sir Gwey? But what has

that to do with me?” Erick asked. “Why would anyone give me a jeweled dagger

just because a great ghost is going to come alive?” An idea lit up his face. “I know.

It’s for you! Since you never go to the ruins, that was the only way the old man

could get it to you. He talked about you, he did! So that’s it. I have brought you

your dagger!” Erick felt relieved and pleased that the dagger belonged to Sir Gwey

and not he. Sir Gwey, himself, was not so sure but the light playing on the lovely

jewels stirred a desire to have it. And so he agreed that it must be the case, and

he thanked Erick mightily for bringing it to him. The matter settled, Gwey headed

for the manor house to show his treasure to his friends, and Erick gladly returned

to feeding the horses.

But changes were happening, they were. For the horses, they sensed a difference

about the boy. There was an electric feeling about the lad, as if the air around him

was charged different than around the rest. It lent a sort of prickly sensation to

the horses. Nothing to upset them. Just a difference that caused them to notice

him. Aye, and the changes they were just beginning.

Chapter 3……The Return of the Dragon

Erick awoke with a start as Gwey burst into the stable with several of his friends.

“The dagger is gone. It disappeared in the night!” he bellowed. Erick watched

fearfully as Gwey stormed his way through the large room overturning feed bins

and kicking at piles of straw. Stopping a few feet from Erick, he peered intently

into his face. “Have you seen it boy? It followed you yesterday. Has it returned

here again?” Desperately, Erick began denying possession of the knife. Leaping to

his feet, his heart sank as the dagger fell from his shirt and clanged onto the

cobblestone floor.

Gwey broke the stony silence. “I do not think the dagger belongs to me. Take

care peasant boy, for the spell of the dagger will attract attention you do not

want!” With these words Gwey left abruptly, followed by the others, each of whom

turning briefly to look in wonder at our unhappy lad and the glittering trophy lying

at his feet.

Erick resolved that as soon as the day’s chores were done he would find the old

man and give him back his dagger. His only gift had been trouble.

Erick suddenly felt unseen eyes watching him. Spinning round he saw only a few

kittens that scurried behind a barrel. Strange feelings these were, as if someone,

or something, meant him no good.

His chores completed, Erick made his way into the forest towards the ruins, the

impression of being watched clinging to him. He spent the morning winding among

the rocks looking for the old man. Sitting to rest, he took the dagger from his

belt. Aye, ‘twas the first time the unfortunate boy had truly looked at his

unwanted gift. The middle stone at the base of the hilt was a sparkling blue white

diamond as large as his thumb. Rubies fanned out in four equal directions, twelve in

all. Farther up the handle there were six emeralds on each side. ‘Twas a lovely

weapon, and not something to be just giving away to a peasant boy. As he gazed

into the diamond, Erick had the sensation of being part of the ruins, as if he

himself were made of stone.

The old man’s voice startled Erick back to awareness of his surroundings. “Nay,

lad, it was given to you alone.” “I don’t want it. Please take it back,” Erick said,

thrusting the dagger toward the old man. “It’s been nothing but trouble for me.”

“Aye, that’s the way it usually is Little One. Our gifts are our burdens. I cannot

take the dagger, it belongs to you. I only served to bring it to you.” He gently

patted the shoulder of the downcast boy. Erick found a strange comfort in the old

man’s touch.

“But what am I to do with it? And who did give it to me?”

“The need for the dagger will present itself soon enough. And she who gave it to

you is known as the Teacher of the Golden Cross. Aye, a great one she is, elusive

to behold. She spins the webs of sunlight into life-force, giving awareness to our

being.” Leaving the small lad with these thoughts, the old man told him to take

care and once again vanished among the rocks.

The old man spoke in riddles that Erick did not understand, but left to himself he

again examined the dagger. His imagination took hold as he fancied it a great

sword, the likes of which ev’n Sir Gwey had not seen. He began to whirl it around

as if in combat with an evil centaur. Never having experienced these ideas before,

the lad became entranced with the game. Up he leaped, jabbing at formless

enemies. Aye, it was a heady experience, it was, and soon Erick was jumping among

the rocks chasing his imaginary foe. To his fevered eye the rocks looked like

statues carved by the wind, a centaur here, a great pegasus there. Soon the ruins

were filled with multitudes of slain centaurs and a great army of warriors on

winged horses helping Erick to defend his fortress. Leaping to the base of a

boulder shaped in the likeness of a pegasus with wings aloft as if alighting, Erick

stopped abruptly. For did there not appear to be hooves thrust deep within the

rock? His eyes traveled upward along lithe but strong legs to a massive winged

body with upturned head. And there upon the great winged horse sat a man. Slate

grey eyes looked back at Erick from deep within the rock, regarding him most

intently.

As Erick stood stuck to the spot, his heart pounding and his limbs shaking to be

seeing a ghost which he never believed in until then, the image of the man

transformed into a brightly glowing light. It was a very strange light indeed, for it

consisted of a small iridescent center of green surrounded by the darkness of the

stone. This was then surrounded by a brightly glowing golden circle which pulsed in

and out like a beating heart. Erick blinked and the image vanished, leaving him

partly blinded by a pattern as if he had been staring at torchlight. Erick scanned

the rocks hoping for an image to reappear. Either of them would do, but nothing

came and the great rock looked like a rock again.

Slanting rays of the evening sun alerted Erick to the coming night. Thinking the

dagger needed a sheath, for he accepted it now as his own, Erick began the journey

home taking care to move noiselessly through the forest, for he knew he was not

ready to meet any evil forces that might be about in the woods with naught good

intentions despite the boldness of his fantasies.

On his return Erick cared for the big horses who nickered and nuzzled him, glad

at his return. Erick returned their affection, happy to have someone to share a

good feeling with, and for a time to give over the feeling of troubles to come.

Chapter 4……The Telling Tale

Erick began to feel a growing confidence in his own self-worth. The new dagger

stayed always at his side in a handsome sheath, crafted by Sir Gwey himself who

said the dagger needed a befitting companion. The story of the magic jeweled

dagger that would not leave the peasant boy’s side had swept through the manor,

and respectful glances greeted Erick now as he went about his chores.

But something else now settled o’er him too. A foreboding sense of evil it was.

Nooks and narrow lanes seemed threatening. Even sight of the horses caused him

unease. And then the nightmares began. Evil yet enticing faces would appear soon

as he fell asleep. He’d start awake feeling spiders were about him, draping their

webs and tying him down. Haggard and bone weary from fearing sleep, he became

careless. Aye, and so he stopped noticing the dark corners and alleys, too tired to

care if danger lurked there.

And so it was no wonder that one dark night with storm clouds abrewing, Erick

found himself upon a path leading away from the castle following the bidding of a

soothing silent voice calling him onward. The path wound up the hill behind the

castle in a direction opposite to that of the mighty ruins. Continuous sheets of

distant lightning lit the way. Silhouetted in the sky a day’s journey ahead were

craggy mountains said to be the fortress home of the evil centaurs where black

magic was a way of life. Aye, and it was towards this evil abode that our poor

innocent lad made his way. Destiny called, and an evil mind eagerly awaited its

prize.

Thunder of the oncoming storm covered o’er the sound of approaching hooves.

Erick barely noticed as dark figures appeared from the mist and formed a ring

about him. Imprisoned in strong arms, he had neither the strength nor will to

struggle. The lad was unaware of his journey to the very heart of the enemy, for

he had fallen into a deep and dreamless sleep.

Awakening in a warm and comfortable bed, Erick quickly felt for his dagger and

found it still there. Now fully alert, he wondered that his captors had not taken it,

for surely their black magic could do that.

A half man, half stallion pushed open the door and placed a bowl of steaming mush

beside Erick. “You think us evil, and think we steal babes to make them villains like

ourselves, do you not child?” His penetrating gaze held Erick entranced. “Would

not your unaccustomed comforts indicate our good intentions?” He exercised all

his will power to disguise the excitement he felt at having attained this long sought

prize. This was the child he had been waiting for, the promised one. For many

centuries the oracles had foretold the return of the Golden Dragon. But like all

men, the Dragon would be born as a child. And whosoever controlled the child

would wield the unimaginable power of the warrior.

Word of the jeweled dagger had reached the centaur master quickly, and Erick

had been placed under constant observation by his spies among the humans. Erick’s

imaginary battle with the centaurs had been his undoing, for it created a channel

of conscious energy with them and gave the master a path into Erick’s mind. The

humans they captured as slaves, if they but knew it, were captured thus by the

centaur sorcerers, victims of their own fear, anger, and hatred.

The fairies, they were different. They had to be enchanted and caught with

spells of mesmerizing words. The centaurs would form clouds of thought filled

energy, dusting it with early morning dew, entrapping the curious fairy who came

upon it much like a sticky flower traps an unsuspecting fly. Struggle on the part of

the fairy only stirred up the energy in his trap, forming a stronger shell about him

and sending energy waves back to the centaurs informing them of their catch. The

centaurs were very devious, letting their victims ensure their own capture.

The foolish humans had not recognized the prize when it walked among them.

Now he must beguile the child into his confidence, winning his love and loyalty. The

mere presence of the lad quickened his pulse and intensified his desire for power.

But first he must test the child to confirm his identity.

“You have no need to fear me, boy. Would you like to go with me and see the

castle? Aye, you may even ride upon my back if you like.” Reluctant at first, Erick

decided he had no choice and swung himself onto the centaur’s back.

They meandered through the fortress, the centaur introducing Erick to other

half men – half horses, until he felt the tension leave the lad completely. Then he

led him into a great hall where a mighty stone sat with a sword plunged into its

center up to the hilt.

“Oh!” Erick gasped and sucked in his breath in wonder.

“What do you see, boy?”

“Oh, it is aflame! The sword within the stone, it is on fire!”

The centaur looked at the rock and the sword and saw nothing amiss. Turning to

the boy upon his back, he saw that his face was aglow from an unseen light.

Chapter 5……Friendship

Entering the stable for the morning exercises, Sir Gwey was surprised to find the

horses jumpy and nickering. Then realization hit him – no Erick. Gwey searched

the stables and the grounds knowing that the lad would not be there. He knew with

certainty, without knowing how he knew, that Erick had been taken by the

centaurs. The cursed dagger had brought this upon the lad. If the dagger had

stayed with him, the centaurs would have met a warrior instead of a helpless

peasant boy. Gwey cursed himself for his own selfishness. He knew Erick needed

to be taught how to defend himself, but he could not lower himself to instruct a

mere peasant. It hurt too much that the dagger chose a stable boy as master

instead of him, a mighty warrior. And so he had let the boy fall into trouble and be

taken in the night.

Gwey resolved to attempt a rescue. He went alone, believing that a lone rider

might approach the centaur fortress at night unnoticed. Despite his bold intention

he was beset by doubts. What good would he do Erick if he joined him in captivity

or died fighting? He was reputed to be a great warrior, but had to admit that he

had never seen a centaur, for the sorcerers obtained what they wanted from the

humans through black magic with no need for physical combat.

The night was long and lonely. Gwey dismounted to allow his horse to drink from a

brook. He startled some wild hogs from sleep and their squealing caused his horse

to bolt into the darkness, leaving the now frightened man-child wondering at the

predicament he had got himself into.

He climbed into a crevice in the rocks to warm himself and think what he should

do. Looking into the sky he saw a star lying low to the horizon. It shone an

iridescent green, and then for a fraction of a second it was surrounded by a golden

halo. The whole illusion then vanished, for surely that’s what it was thought Gwey.

His fear and desolation were playing tricks on him. He tried to stay awake, but

sleep soon o’ercame him and he heard not the gentle thud of landing hooves.

The grey light of dawn and early morning chill aroused Gwey from a deep slumber.

On opening his eyes he was amazed to see a huge white horse with golden wings

standing quietly regarding him as if it had been waiting for him to waken.

Seemingly impatient for action on the lad’s part, the horse shook its head and took

a step forward. The idea formed in Gwey’s mind that he was to climb aboard, but

having had his fill of adventure, he felt inclined to remain huddled against the rock.

Then, within his mind, ‘twas as if he saw Erick on the back of a centaur, and he

fought back tears. The mighty horse, he knew how to get a message across, he did.

Gwey got up and slowly approached the horse, finally laying his hand on the silky

smooth hair of its lovely arched neck. And then he found himself with face buried

deep and arms tightly encircling the strong neck.

Aye, the knowledge that he was no longer alone filled him with courage. He was

ready to join the mighty steed, even if it meant flying into a den of centaurs.

Chapter 6……The Flaming Sword of Justice

Erick gazed at the great sword in wonder, his companion elated that fate had

brought him the child. There was no doubt now that this was the promised one,

the Golden Dragon of legend long ago. The centaur eagerly looked forward to the

time when at his command Erick would pull the ancient weapon from its resting

place. Aye, different they were as night and day, for the one practiced the

blackest magic to control another’s thoughts and life to sate his hunger for power

as supreme ruler. The other, did he but know it, was helping to create white magic

in the heart of truth, nurtured in friendship, and born of love. The fearsome

Sword of Justice awaited the white magician known as the Golden Dragon, the

warrior who battles ever against the tyranny of the black sorcerer. He answers

the call from those who act with love and truth in their hearts.

Golden light from the rising sun filtered into the great stone hall from the large

windows open to the wind. And in with the light came gentle as a feather the white

pegasus and Sir Gwey. Erick and the centaur were both startled to see them and

Erick, he fell from the centaur’s back and landed with a thud. Knocked him clean

out, it did!

The big winged horse began to circle about the centaur, making his way near to

the stone wherein the sword lay buried. Gwey himself had no weapon, his sword

having gone when his horse broke away. By now the commotion in the great hall had

alerted several other centaurs and they began to surround the winged horse and

his rider. Backed to the center of the room, Gwey noticed the hilt of the sword.

In desperation, he grabbed the handle and tugged with all his strength. The great

sword slid out of the stone so easily that Gwey lost his balance and fell to the

floor, the sword clattering to rest out of reach.

Erick had roused from his own tumble to watch as Gwey was made captive. The

centaur leader reached for the great sword that now laid upon the floor, but leapt

back with a cry as it began to glow then burst into flame.

Angrily the centaur grabbed Erick and pulled him forward. “Make the flames stop

boy!” he commanded. Erick stared at him in bewilderment. “I can’t. I know not

how.” Aye, he was as amazed as everyone else. He looked to Gwey who was staring

in disbelief as the pegasus flew from the room.

Rage began to grow within the centaur leader, for the great prize had appeared

within his grasp, and now the mighty sword lay flaming upon the floor with no one

able to touch it. As for the boys, one could see the flames within the stone, and

the other was able to extract the sword. He was no longer sure which one was the

Golden Dragon. His desire grew ever greater as he watched the flames dance

about the metal blade. Sending the boys away with their centaur guards, he

decided to use his magic on the sword itself.

First he conjured a ring of fire around himself and the sword, sealing off all

other influences. Next he cleared himself of all emotion. Clear headed once more,

he reappraised the flaming sword. Concluding that the flames were an illusion

triggered by anger and desire, he held himself clear and watched as the flames

slowly flickered away and the red glow of the metal faded. The sword lay as any

other might upon the floor. Reaching forward to touch it, the metal once again

glowed dull red. So subtle had been his desire that no flames had appeared.

Engrossed as he was in his efforts to possess the sword, he did not notice the

golden hush that fell o’er the room nor the entrance of the great white horse and

its rider.

“Tis motive that rules the great sword, you know,” said the calm and somehow

musical voice. The centaur looked up into piercing eyes set in a ruggedly handsome

face. A wisp of smile played about the mouth. The centaur filled with rage and

hate at the sight of the intruder. As he grabbed the sword uncaring of its heat,

the blade burst into a roaring conflagration that engulfed its bearer. Too late he

recalled the ring of fire that he himself had created and which now entrapped him

in a furnace of death, consuming him with his own energy, the spawn of evil desires.

The raging fire in the great hall drew the attention of all the centaurs in the

castle, leaving both lads unprotected. Making their way to the roof of the

fortress, they were gladdened by the appearance of the mighty pegasus. ‘Twas a

thankful and relieved journey home, it was, both lads falling off to sleep, held aloft

by unseen hands.

Sitting among the ruins contemplating the recent events, Erick looked up to see

that he was once again before the stone shaped like a great pegasus and rider. As

he studied the contours of the rock, a glowing from the center drew his attention.

The strange light had reappeared. The iridescent green of the center sparkled

like a jewel, and the golden halo lit up and then slowly vanished, leaving the jewel

alone. As Erick watched, golden threads attached themselves to the jewel and

fanned out with a subtle glow. The threads multiplied and intersected, forming an

oscillating checkerboard appearance with a density at the center where the jewel

had been. On either side dark openings appeared which expanded and closed with

the oscillations of the light pattern as if two great eyes were looking at him.

And then the checkerboard exploded, leaving a star-filled darkness. From the

darkness an outline took on form and substance. Once again the great rider looked

down upon Erick. Now in his right hand he carried a flaming sword. But for all his

splendor, Erick could not help noticing he lacked a shield.

Book Two

Reflection in the Mirror

Chapter 1……The Ancient Ruins

With the death of their leader and the villagers set free from their tyranny, the

centaurs wondered what they were to do. ‘Cept for one that is. Aye, he was

different from the rest for he was very young. Only sixteen summers had passed

since the sorcery of the now dead centaur had cast the spell binding his infant

body to that of a new born colt. And even more, Mychal had noticed a striking

resemblance between himself and the lad, Eric. It fueled a desire to return to

human form. It was a desire he kept hidden, for the other centaurs, if they knew,

would not understand. He would be in trouble for sure if they caught even a hint

of it.

So, it was with care that he secretly made his way to the ancient castle ruins, for

he had heard rumors of a magic mirror thought to be hidden there that could

reverse the spell that had made him one of them. The others said it was guarded

by a horrific monster that could turn a being to stone with one glance at her ugly

face.

His desire was so strong that he risked dire punishment and even death for the

chance to be a man again. So that was how he found himself wandering among the

ruins this beautiful day under two suns and watchful forest eyes that, if he but

knew it, followed him everywhere.

One pair, however, belonged not to the fairy world, but to a human. Lady

Gwendolyn watched with keen interest every movement of the centaur from her

hiding place among the rocks. She herself had no business being there; a woman’s

place was felt to be in the manor, caring for the warriors and babes. Fortunately,

her grandfather had not seen fit to marry her off to some lord or the other for

the sake of a dowry.

The recent adventure of her twin brother Gwey and the peasant boy Erick with

the ancient warrior said to roam the ancient ruins had spurred her imagination and

led her to explore on her own. But she knew to be cautious.

Her efforts to find the golden warrior had met with disappointment. She hadn’t

even seen a fairy, and knew the centaurs regarded women in much the same light as

the mares used to breed their own horse bodies.

Even so she was enchanted by the centaur scrambling among the ruins. She was a

good judge of people. He didn’t look or feel evil. His red hair sparkled like spun

gold as he moved about in the sunlight. She too recognized his uncanny

resemblance to the peasant boy Erick.

The heights of the suns reminded her it would soon be dark. The ruins were no

place for a girl, even a brave one, after dark. As if hearing her thought the

centaur looked to the sky then headed back toward the centaurs’ mountain

fortress. The magic mirror had eluded him this time, but unbeknownst to him he

took a young girl’s heart with him.

Lady Gwendolyn watched him leave with mixed feelings. His presence reminded

her of evil tales told round the kitchen fire, but the sunlight in his hair and the

movements of his body seemed magical to her. She came searching for a mythical

warrior to fall in love with and found a very real centaur instead. As he slipped

from view she remembered that she too had better be getting herself home.

And that’s when the bird appeared, landing right in the middle of her path. It

showed no fear, cocking its head to look at her quizzically. It was profoundly

beautiful but its comical antics made her laugh.

“You must let me by,” she said. “It’s getting dark. I should be home by now.” The

bird flitted onto a rock wall but was still so close that she could reach out and

touch it. As she walked by, she was enveloped by an impression of intelligence, and

a voice spoke in her mind.

“You must tell no one of who you saw today,” it instructed. “He would be in danger

from his own kind if they discovered he has been here.” The voice was musical but

grave and filled her with sadness.

“I tell my brother everything!” she exclaimed.

“Have you told him you have been coming to the ruins?”

Before Lady Gwendolyn could reply, the bird flittered away then vanished.

As she had not mentioned anything to Gwey about her forays into the ruins for

fear he would forbid her coming, she resolved to say nothing. She marveled that a

strange talking bird knew so much about her affairs. As she made her way back to

the village, she was aware for the first time of a presence, an aliveness, in the

surrounding forest.

No one had noticed her absence; especially not Gwey, who was focused on training

the peasant boy Erick who was now treated like a member of the family. Gwey

loved his sister but thought she was a pest. She refused to behave like a girl. She

constantly asked questions about warriors and even such things as how to wield a

sword. “Wendy”, as Gwey called her to irritate her, was impressed that Gwey had

wielded the flaming sword of the mighty Golden Dragon. In telling the tale, he and

Erick omitted the fact that it had flipped out of Gwey’s hands and landed on the

floor. However much they might have stretched the truth, there was no denying

that the evil centaur sorcerer had been vanquished. In the secret of her mind

Gwendolyn thought that she too could wield the great sword if given the chance.

It wasn’t long before her desire to again see the centaur and mysterious bird

lured her back to the ruins. Mychal also soon found himself returning to the ruins,

this time on a quest to return something stolen long ago. At the mountain fortress,

the sword lost in the fiery death of the centaur sorcerer had mysteriously

returned to its position in the stone where it had sat unmovable for centuries.

Unnerved by a magic not of their own making, the centaurs resolved to return it to

the ancient castle ruins from whence they had taken it long ago. Mychal was quick

to volunteer to be a part of the brave group selected to transport it back to the

ruins.

It took several centaurs to drag the large stone deep within the castle ruins to

where it had first been found. They positioned the stone in the middle of a large

room with crumbling walls. Mychal looked around with interest. He had never been

this far within the ruins before. In a far corner he saw the darkened entrance to

a descending stairwell. “If I wanted to hide a magic mirror, that’s where I’d put

it,” he thought. He decided to return alone and explore more fully.

Several weeks later, as he made his way through the ruins toward the room that

held the stone with the sword, he was startled by a bird lighting on a nearby rock.

The bird regarded him with strange human-like eyes. It was quite beautiful, with a

fiery red crest and golden wings and tail. He was familiar with all of the birds of

the forest but had never seen one like this before.

The bird admonished him with a musical tone that belied the seriousness of its

warning. “You must not go down the steps alone,” said the voice heard only in his

mind.

Mychal stared at the bird in astonishment. How did it know what he planned to

do, followed by the immediate thought that if a hideous monster lay in waiting at

the bottom of the steps, then the magic mirror must be there too.

Mychal watched the bird warily. He was a centaur. He didn’t trust anyone but

another centaur, and he didn’t trust them most of the time.

“Do not refuse friendship when it is offered,” said the bird.

Chapter 2……Friendship…of a Sort

The day started out fine for Lady Gwendolyn. Gwey and Erick were soon busy

with lessons leaving her to do her embroidery. However, as soon as they left for

the stables and she found herself alone, her thoughts turned to the castle ruins.

A prickly sensation was going through her. She somehow knew the centaur would

be there today. Setting her embroidery aside and making sure no one saw her

leave, she set upon the path to the ruins. The trees murmured as she went. The

peasant boy spoke of the fairies but she had only caught glimpses of them in the

past, so it surprised her when occasional flashes of light whizzed by. She

suppressed the impulse to reach out and try to touch them. Then a shimmering

formed into a lovely butterfly sprite with large expressive eyes.

The sprite smiled beguilingly then spoke in a lilting tone. “We of the fairy world

know what you seek and will help you whenever we can.”

Lady Gwendolyn smiled and expressed her appreciation, though she was mystified

as to why she might need help, especially from a delicate fairy. “I only go to the

ruins to catch a glimpse of the centaur,” she said, immediately regretting that she

had spoken of him.

“We know,” the sprite assured her. “He is different from the others. But you

must take care and do no harm,” she said emphatically.

“Oh!” Lady Gwendolyn exclaimed, “I mean no one any harm!”

“When the chance comes, remember my words,” the fairy said again, then

shimmered and vanished.

“Well, that was a strange encounter,” Gwendolyn thought as she continued along

the path. She was not used to anyone thinking that what she did mattered for

good or ill. She felt powerless and at the mercy of others. By custom and law she

could neither love nor marry whom she wanted. Life seemed very unfair. Gwey

dreamed of being a great warrior, but the most she could dream of was being the

mother of a great warrior, and she might not even like the father.

Her quest today was clearly forbidden, not only for the danger it posed but

because the centaurs were so reviled. And rightly so she admitted. But she

continued on the path, confident in her resolve to do as she wanted.

She wondered if she would see the bird again today just as she heard the flutter

of wings beside her. Still mulling over the fairy’s words and presuming the bird to

know about them, Lady Gwendolyn blurted out, “Why would the fairy think I would

harm anyone?”

“We can protect ourselves in the face of danger,” the bird replied, “but

sometimes we must judge whether it is real or has no basis in reality. In an

unfamiliar situation it is sometimes very difficult to tell the difference, and you

can do harm where none was intended if you see it wrongly.”

Lady Gwendolyn allowed as how that made sense, then asked, “So how do I tell the

difference?”

“That is for you to judge,” the bird replied, then fluttered away, leaving Lady

Gwendolyn exasperated. The fairy and bird posed problems she didn’t know she

had. She was still thinking about their words when she arrived at the ruins. A mist

hung over them, playing on her imagination. Shadows seemed to move. Every

forest sound seemed magnified, and she heard things she had never noticed

before. She made her way farther into the ruins than she had ever gone before,

when she found herself in a large room with a dirt floor. The first thing that

caught her attention was a stone in the center of the room with the hilt of a sword

jutting from it. All thoughts of the centaur vanished, to be replaced by the

ancient warrior rumored to dwell in the ruins. It must be his!! She was bending

down behind the rock searching for any kind of engraving that would identify it

when a sound nearby startled her. She turned and came face to face with the

same centaur she had seen before.

Mychal stared at her in disbelief. The girl was quite lovely with golden hair and

the brightest blue eyes he had ever seen. Her own surprise quickly changed to

wariness. “I’m not going to harm you,” he blurted. Caught in mid-step, he put his

foot to the ground.

She took it as an advance on her. Her eyes widened then turned to the sword

beside her. In one swift move, she drew it from the stone and pointed it towards

him. “Don’t come near me!” she said, her voice ominous.

“No chance of that!” he stammered while stepping backwards. “I was just

exploring.” Then the thought of the bird’s warning flashed into his mind. This

human didn’t look very friendly to him. Staring at the sword he asked, “Is it hot?”

The question totally disarmed her. “No, it’s not. I suppose this is what you’re

looking for,” she replied.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t like swords, especially that one. I’ve seen

it burst into flames.”

“Well, it’s actually rather cold,” she said, and on impulse put it back in its sheath,

making her defenseless before him. The she continued, “if you’re not looking for

the sword, what are you looking for?”

Awed at the girl’s handling of the sword, Mychal realized she had decided to

trust him. He in turn told her about the magic mirror. “It will make me a human

man again.” Lady Gwendolyn’s face lit up in surprise and delight. Mychal was quick

to add, “But it is very dangerous. It is guarded by some kind of hideous monster.”

Maybe down there,” and he pointed towards the stairwell.

“We’ll go together,” Gwendolyn declared. “And I shall take the sword to protect

us!”

Mychal was speechless, but finally got his wits together enough to remark that he

appreciated her desire to help, but he didn’t even know her well enough to know her

name.

“Wendy,” she said before he could object further.

“Pleased to meet you.” he replied. “I’m Mychal.”

“Do you know,” she observed, “you look a lot like the peasant boy Erick.”

“Yes, I saw him at the fortress.”

“Maybe you’re his brother!” She smiled in delight with the idea.

“Maybe.” She certainly talked a lot. It jangled him, but the bird had warned him

that he was to have a companion. “Well, let’s get on with it,” he said with more

bravado than he felt.

Wendy reacquired the sword and marched towards the stairwell. She turned and

looked back at him quizzically. “Aren’t you coming?”

“Of course,” he hurriedly replied walking towards her. “But I do think we need to

be cautious. Let me lead the way.” “But I have the sword!” she protested.

“We are doing this for me, therefore I should take the greater risk. You will be

close enough to come to my defense if I need you.” She acquiesced to this,

reminding him that diplomacy and tact were first rules of magic.

Then the bird appeared and dropped a glittering golden belt and scabbard at

Wendy’s feet. “The fairies made you something”.

“Oh, look!” Wendy exclaimed as she picked it up. “It’s for my sword!”

Mychal stared in wonder. He had been brought up by sorcerers who practiced the

blackest arts. This was magic of a whole new sort.

Wendy buckled the belt and slid the sword into place. “That’s much better,” she

said with a smile. Mychal nodded in agreement as the bird darted down the

stairwell crying, “Follow me!”

Chapter 3……Down the Stairwell

Wendy and Mychal felt their way down the dark steps. They exclaimed in unison

as a passageway of shimmering gold opened before them. “It is your quest to

become a man that reveals the golden passage,” said the bird to Mychal. “In order

to tread it, you must give up the ways of the centaurs. There is still time. You can

turn around now, but the door will never be opened again. You must make your

choice.”

Mychal looked from the bird to Wendy. Her eyes were big and round and he

suddenly realized, very much like the bird’s. She smiled beseechingly but said

nothing.

Mychal took a deep breath, then stepped forward. “Since I don’t know the way, it

seems prudent to follow you,” he said, looking at the bird. Wendy sighed with

relief.

Wendy was enchanted with the shimmering walls, noticing vague shapes taking

form then vanishing just as quickly. Some of them reminded her of familiar things

and yet others were totally alien. One, reminding her of a fairy, reached out to

her. “Come walk with me,” it said enticingly. Mychal bumped into her, startling her

back to reality. He had been noticing the shimmering shapes also. One even looked

a lot like the now deceased centaur, consumed in the raging fire.

“It looks like golden fire,” he whispered to Wendy. Wendy agreed, her attention

focused once more on the path in front of them.

“We must hurry,” she replied. The bird was getting ahead of them. Mychal

increased the tempo of his own steps in response, realizing that this place was a

test, to see if you could resist its allure.

“Well, we leave that behind us,” the bird said nonchalantly as the passageway lost

its golden glow and resumed the appearance of roughhewn walls. Occasionally,

another passageway would branch off and lead into darkness.

“I wonder where that one goes,” Wendy whispered to Mychal, after passing one.

“I think I would be happy to know where this one is leading,” Mychal responded.

“Or maybe not,” he muttered giving it a second thought.

Wendy bounced along blithely behind the bird, seeming to enjoy their big

adventure leading Mychal to suspect she wasn’t the peasant girl he had initially

thought. What had she been doing in the ruins? He wished he had paid more

attention to the inhabitants of the village. It might have given him some insight

into his companion.

He finally asked her, “Who is this bird? Is it a friend of yours? Are the fairies

friends of yours?”

“No,” she said, looking at him with rounded eyes. “It just appeared and started

giving advice, sort of like Erick’s experience with the old man in the ruins.”

“What old man?”

“The one who gave him the knife that kept returning to him.”

Mychal thought about that for a moment. Things were not always told to him by

the other centaurs, but some whisper of that had circulated among them. “Soo…

what happened to the old man?”

Wendy shrugged her shoulders. “I thought the centaurs knew everything.”

“Well, this one doesn’t,” Mychal retorted. This line of questioning was not going

well. Wendy smiled in response, guileless in her beauty. As human girls go, she was

lovely.

They both stopped abruptly, after nearly colliding with the bird who fluttered in

the air a few feet in front of them. “Have we finished discussing the issue?” it

asked. “We are almost where we are going.”

“Where are we going?” Mychal quickly asked.

“Here,” was the response.

Wendy sighed in exasperation at Mychal. “You talk a lot and say little,” she said.

Mychal glanced back at the bird, who regarded him with an amused air. “Energy

has a way of reversing itself and returning at the most inopportune time. Thoughts

are energy. They can create invisible forms that move with purpose. We must be

very careful what we create and how we use it lest it return to confront us.

Thought can be a powerful weapon when used by a master magician. The centaur

sorcerers were teaching you black magic. Now you must learn white magic if you

are to fulfill your destiny as a man.”

Mychal felt overwhelmed as suppressed desire welled up inside him. “I wish very

much to fulfill my destiny as a man,” he blurted out.

“Then, come,” the bird said, “let’s enter the abode of the Golden Dragon.”

Wendy and Mychal followed the bird through a stone arch. Large crystals glowed

from the arch, inset in the stone. They entered a large room that was empty save

for a bare stone podium in the center about ten feet across.

“We must open the door with the power of our thoughts,” the bird said. It then

flew to the podium and landed on its golden perch. After closing its eyes, it

appeared to doze off.

Wendy and Mychal looked at each other in bewilderment. Now what? There

seemed to be nothing more they could do but wait for the bird to think the

thoughts that opened the door.

“Maybe we should be thinking about opening the door too,” Wendy whispered.

“What do you think it looks like?”

“Probably gold,” Mychal responded. “Maybe we shouldn’t discuss it. Magic is best

done with concentration and silence.” He knew something about magic. She clearly

did not.

“But how can you perform magic if you don’t know what to think about?”

Why did he wind up with her as his companion? She was disrupting his thoughts

with her persistent questions. How could he focus on opening doors if she wouldn’t

be quiet?

“I heard that,” she said, stomping her foot. “I don’t think you know that much

about magic, either. You’re pompous and arrogant. Why did I wind up with you as a

companion?”

Mychal was stunned. Beautiful, willful and now telepathic; he’d best watch his

step. And she was right, he was being faced with magic he didn’t understand.

Besides, it disturbed him immensely to see her angry. “I apologize,” he said. “I

feel frustrated that I don’t know what to do. When you are taught to think of

yourself as strong and invincible, it is difficult to let another take control.” He

looked towards the bird, who wasn’t there. The podium had turned to gold with a

large round shield rested against the perch. Upon the shield was an image of the

bird.

Wendy gazed at the shield in awe. “It looks like an embroidery,” she said,

climbing up on the podium. Mychal doubted the wisdom of that but accepted that

cautioning Wendy was useless. Besides’ he was more concerned with the

disappearance of the bird and simultaneous appearance of the shield with the

bird’s likeness.

Looking around the room, he noticed a dark passageway leading out directly

opposite to where they had come in. A closed door now stood in the arch where

they had entered. There was only one way to proceed.

“Come on, Wendy, let’s continue our journey.”

“We can’t leave it here,” she protested. “It has been our friend, helping us. I’m

going to bring it with us. And now I have a shield to go with my sword,” she said

with obvious satisfaction.

“Is it heavy?” Mychal asked as she put her arm through the leather straps on the

back and lifted it.

“No,” she responded, then looked at him to gage his reaction to these events.

“Would you like to carry it?”

“No, I will follow you”.

She smiled brightly, then briskly strode towards the passageway with a somber

centaur following closely behind her.

Chapter 4……The Tears of My Heart

The walls of the passageway glowed with an eerie blue light that brightened as

they passed through then dimmed again once they had passed. Close inspection

revealed they were covered with phosphorescent lichen. They were lighting the

way for them!

“Who is this golden warrior that lives in this abode? The centaurs do not speak

of him,” he asked Wendy as they walked. The passageway was wider here and

resembled a stone forest.

“Oh, he’s not alive now!” she exclaimed. “He’s a ghost said to roam the ruins.”

“The bird spoke of him as if he lives.”

“I have heard the stories of his great valor from a young age, but Erick and Gwey

are the only ones who have actually seen him. He rides a great pegasus, which

Gwey himself rode!” she added excitedly. “But since they returned home neither

has been seen again. Erick received a magic dagger that kept returning to him but

that is gone now.” Mychal nodded; he had heard of the dagger. “And the sword

which vanished after the centaur burned was seen in the possession of the great

warrior when Erick saw him one last time in the ruins.”

“He returned it to us and we brought it back to the ruins. Apparently, so you

could carry it now on our journey,” Mychal said glancing at the sword hanging at

Wendy’s side. He realized that it seemed heavier to her now. In spite of her

spirit, the sword and shield were tiring her slight frame. “Perhaps we should stop

and rest for just a bit,” he suggested. He didn’t like the idea that was forming in

his mind. He was not a great warrior.

Wendy was visibly relieved to be free of the weight of the sword and shield as

she leaned them against the wall. The glow of the lichen that touched their edges

changed from blue to a flickering golden flame.

“It’s sort of a long way, don’t you think?” Wendy asked. “Where do you think we

are going?”

Mychal shrugged and looked at the bird on the shield. “It would probably say to

the place we are heading or some such thing.”

Wendy laughed at his nonsense, which made him feel better and gave him more

confidence. After they had rested a bit, he picked up the sword and strapped it

on, then hoisted the shield to his side. “I think I need to do my part and carry it

for a while.” Wendy smiled in appreciation. She no longer felt like quite the great

warrior herself. Plus, she thought it looked right on him.

As they walked, the shield began glowing with a soft golden light. The image of

the bird slowly faded as golden lines formed a checkerboard pattern with large

dark spaces resembling eyes on either side. Mychal noticed the look of wonder on

Wendy’s face as she stared at the shield and stopped to look at it himself. Holding

it in front of him, it seemed as though someone or something was looking back at

him. As he watched, the checkerboard faded to be replaced by a glowing green

jewel in the center of the shield. A golden glow formed a ring around it. The

donut shape became so bright that it seemed to burn then give way to darkness.

Misty white and gold swirled onto the dark surface, and taking shape as a white

pegasus with golden wings.

“How beautiful!” Wendy said softly.

Mychal felt a shiver run down his spine. He saw the pegasus when it entered the

fortress and left Gwey to the mercy of the centaurs. He was not sure if it was

friend or foe. One thing for sure, he didn’t think it liked centaurs.

They continued their journey but it felt strange to Mychal to be carrying the

image of the pegasus. He wondered if it was the monster protecting the magic

mirror. Perhaps that was why it was wise for him to carry the sword and shield.

Once again an arch appeared in the passageway and a golden light emanated from

the large room they entered. Another golden podium stood in the center

surrounded by a pool of blue water. A flaming harp with golden strings hung in mid-

air over the podium. Water dripping from the ceiling struck the strings, producing

melancholy music.

“The music makes me sad,” Wendy said as she walked closer to the harp. “Where

do you think the tears are coming from?” she asked as she searched the air above

the harp.

The haunting sound made Mychal want to cry. Tears, he thought. Why not in

such a strange place. They could be his own, shed over the pent-up frustration of

being turned into a centaur, a captive in his own body. A lilting voice entered his

mind. “I too wish to be a man, but I am captive within a spell created by another.”

“Look Mychal,” Wendy whispered, “the shield is changing again”. Once again the

strange checkerboard face took shape then coalesced into a round blue-green

donut which pulsated and grew brighter until it burst into a flame that went around

the ring, leaving the image of a woman who looked like Wendy. But instead of

golden hair she wore a helmet with a bird-like crest.

The face smiled at them as the music emanating from the harp became light and

airy. “The tears of my heart create the music of life,” she said softly. “I am

forever a thought in the mind of the Creator.” She looked at Mychal. “You yearn

to be a man, yet because of your youth you must bond with another entity to live

without the horse body. It will not be easy and you must endure pain, but if your

desire is great enough, it will get you through. I will give you the strength of my

being to support you through this lifetime, but with it comes my energy and you

must endure my impulses. I work for the good of humanity. I too am a captive.

You must always speak truth and do what is right and just. Do no harm to others

unless they pose a threat to an innocent. It is a heavy burden, my friend, but I

think you are strong enough to carry it. You may think on it for a while and talk

about it with your friend, for she is in this with you, though you do not yet realize

it.”

Mychal watched as the image faded to be replaced by an image of the harp. He

glanced at Wendy. Her eyes were wide and transfixed on the shield. Then she

started and looked at him, aware suddenly of his presence again. She smiled at him

then sat down on the edge of the podium.

She raised her hands to her head then said somewhat shakily, “I felt her words in

my head as she talked to you. Mychal, what is this magic mirror you are looking

for?” she asked slowly.

“I have only heard rumors. It seemed my only chance to break the spell.

Centaurs live for centuries. I did not want to live for centuries in this body.”

“Humans do not live for centuries,” Wendy reminded him. “You will be dying much

sooner. Life is more difficult for us.”

“I know,” he said. “But it is how you live your life that matters, not how long you

live it.”

“Well,” she said after a short silence, “I think we have found your magic mirror.”

She walked to the shield and held it up before her. She turned to look at him. As

she did, the harp faded for an instant and he saw the reflected image of the one in

the mirror who had spoken to him. Seeing his startled expression, Wendy looked

back quickly at the mirror shield, but the image of the woman with the crested

helmet was gone, replaced once more by the harp.

“I think we need to keep going,” Wendy said, then looked at Mychal. “Don’t you

think?” Mychal smiled in agreement and lifted the sword and shield.

“Wait,” he said as Wendy started walking towards the passageway that had

opened up on the far wall. “You need to take your harp.”

“I’m not sure that we should disturb it,” she said.

“How can you play it for me when I am a man if you don’t take it with you?”

Wendy smiled then laughed. Very true, how could she? The water was

surprisingly warm when she stepped into it. It turned blood red as she waded.

Wendy looked at Mychal in surprise. “Don’t stop!” he commanded. There were no

flames around the harp now. It was the color of blood. The music stopped as she

removed it from the water source. Holding the harp next to her heart, she

proceeded toward the new passageway followed closely by Mychal carrying the

sword and mirror shield.

Chapter 5……The Golden Cross

“Do you think we should be taking these?” Wendy asked Mychal again as they

continued through the passageway. He smiled at her, understanding her concern.

These were the work of magic. “I don’t feel like any kind of magician,” Wendy

interjected. It always startled him when she read his thoughts.

“The reflection in the mirror said otherwise,” he reminded her. Were these

magic beings other parts of themselves? He had heard rumors of a magical

Otherworld. Perhaps it was where the fairies dwelled. They seemed a part of this

by fashioning the sheath that carried his sword.

“Do you think I am a fairy?” Wendy asked. “I was born as a human child, twin to

Gwey.”

Mychal looked at her in surprise. “Then you are the Lady Gwendolyn.”

Wendy smiled at him sheepishly and nodded her head. “Yes, but I feel much

better as Wendy. That’s what Gwey calls me. I know he does it to make me mad

because he thinks I’m uppity. We have no say over how we are born.”

“Perhaps,” Mychal said slowly. “I have begun to feel we are walking a path that

has been determined for us, but it is our own decisions that decide which direction

the path takes.”

“Where do you think it is going now?” Wendy asked. “The mirror spoke of you

becoming a man. How do you think that will happen? How do you reverse a spell?”

Mychal shrugged his shoulders. He fully realized that somebody or something

else had control of both his life and Wendy’s. They had to trust that the

intentions were good.

The light in the tunnel began to glow again and another arch appeared before

them, emanating a golden mist. As they walked through the arch the harp in

Wendy’s arms began to play a lovely song. In the center of the room a golden cross

hung suspended in the air as mist swirled around it. Wendy walked up to it and

grasped it in one hand while the harp played joyfully.

Mychal held his breath as he watched her. Did she know what she was doing?

Holding the cross in one hand and still holding the harp next to her, she turned to

Mychal. “This is mine also,” she said simply. “I must need it.”

As the golden mist swirled around Wendy and the golden scepter, she began to

dim and fade. Mist filled the room. He called out to her but she didn’t respond.

Panic filled him but he didn’t know what to do. The mist swirled around him too,

feeling dense and heavy, making it difficult for him to breathe. A golden glowing

ring formed before him. The green center pulsated making his head throb. A dark

checkerboard face appeared before him.

“Fear not;” the words were low and softly musical. “You belong to me now. Be you

a man, full of truth and right action.” Mychal fell to the floor unconscious, then

roused to the sound of Wendy’s voice.

She looked somewhat disheveled but was smiling. “You are a man!” She spoke the

words in wonder and awe. He lay upon the floor with a soft golden blanket covering

him. There were clothes laid out near him. The mist was quickly clearing. He felt

weak and was trembling but seemed otherwise to be well.

She helped him up and into the clothes, modestly averting her eyes from his body.

He marveled at the sight of his legs and wondered how well they would work. He

need not have worried. He moved stiffly but the energy of the horse body was

still there. It would sustain him as he gained control of this new body. Life as a

man was before him.

When he finally felt steady enough to walk, they gathered up their treasures to

continue the journey. Before Wendy could ask, Mychal said, “Yes, take it with you.

That’s a potent little stick you have!” Wendy giggled. Their mood was somber, yet

there was room for laughter.

“Laughter is necessary,” the harp sang. “If we cannot laugh at ourselves

sometimes, then all is lost. When one takes oneself too seriously, then the joy in

being is lost also. Beware of self-importance.”

Walking tired Mychal, though he was reluctant to say so. He wanted to be

perfect from the beginning. Finally, he gave in to Wendy’s growing concern.

“Perhaps we can stop and rest awhile,” he said, sitting on a block near the wall. He

kept the sword and shield near him. An uneasiness had taken hold of him. They

were not alone, though he could see no place where anything could be hiding. He

did not fear humans. This felt larger.

Suddenly, out of midair, a flurry of wings startled them both. Mychal pushed

Wendy behind him as he grabbed the sword and shield, ready for an attack. A

large golden winged pegasus took shape before them.

“I mean you no harm,” formed in both of their minds. “I am here to help you. We

are near the entrance to the caverns. It is time for you to go home. I will take

you there. You can both ride upon my back.”

First Wendy and then Mychal mounted the pegasus. Neither had appreciated just

how exhausted they were, falling asleep as the great winged horse emerged from

the castle ruins and flew them home.

When they awoke they found themselves in the courtyard of the manor. The

golden shield and sword were gone, replaced by a silver shield with the emblem of a

pegasus and a silver hilted sword. The harp was no longer the color of blood but

was wooden with silver threads for strings. The golden cross too was now silver

and much smaller. It hung on a silver chain around Wendy’s neck.

Near to them grazed a horse in bridle and saddle that looked very much like the

one that had been joined to Mychal. He felt a surge of joy upon seeing it.

Wendy’s grandfather, accompanied by Gwey and Erick, emerged from the door of

the manor and hurried to them with surprise and gladness. Lady Gwendolyn hadn’t

been seen since early morning and this was late afternoon.

Once introductions were done and hurried explanations given, Mychal was

accepted as one of the family. He and Erick shared a room as it was now firmly

believed that he was indeed Erick’s long-lost brother, thought to have been taken

by the centaurs. It was the loss of Mychal that had prompted the Grandfather to

send Erick’s mother to the fairies to prevent a similar fate befalling him.

Mychal had not been long with the humans when he felt called to the ruins. The

walk through the woods was very pleasant, with the afternoon sun rays shining

through the trees. As he walked he became aware of the presence of another

something or someone shadowing him. He stopped and sat quietly on a fallen log.

Soon a small face peeked around a nearby tree. He waited quietly for an inquisitive

pixie to approach, not wanting to alarm it. The fairy sidled up on the log next to

him like a friendly puppy.

“I will not harm you,” Mychal said gently. The pixie smiled broadly.

“Are you and Erick going to help us?” he asked timidly.

Mychal was surprised. He thought the fairies were invincible. Had they not

helped him and Wendy and made the sheath for the sword?

The pixie sighed. “We are all frightened of an evil monster. It must be

defeated. You wield the great sword and shield.”

“Yes, I did, but it’s gone now, replaced by the sword and shield of mortal man.”

Seeing the disappointment on the pixie’s face, he hurriedly added, “But I will do

whatever I can to defend you and keep you safe.” The pixie brightened in response

then hopped down from the log and vanished back into the woods.

Mychal resumed his walk to the ruins while remembering the words of the one in

the mirror who said she was a captive. Was she too a fairy? What was this

monster that made them fearful? And where was the great golden warrior that

Erick had told him about? Why did he not defend them?

Mychal walked to the inner rooms of the ruins, searching for the one where the

sword had been placed. When he found it, the sword was still gone but the mirror

shield sat upon the ground leaning against the stone sheath.

Holding it up, he saw first his own reflection. That was slowly replaced by the one

who looked like Wendy. The crested helmet on her head flickered like flames.

“You have done well, young one,” she said smiling. “The road before you is long, but

not without interest. Many months will pass before I come again. It will take time

for the battle lines to form.” With those words she vanished.

As Mychal looked into the mirror there was a swirl of movement around piercing

eyes much like his own that briefly stared back at him and then faded into inky

blackness.

Mychal held the darkened mirror for a time, waiting to see if another image would

appear, but none came. He sat it down and walked to the stairwell they had

followed into the tunnel. He turned back to the mirror shield, knowing it would be

gone.

Book Three

The Monster

Chapter 1……The Monster at the Top of the Stairs

Life among the humans was very pleasant. Mychal enjoyed their company,

especially Wendy. And yet a thought plagued him. What was this monster

threatening the fairies? Why did they need his help? And when and how would he

give it? He hadn’t seen a fairy since his encounter with the pixie near the ruins.

Lost in thought, he wandered onto the trail leading to the ancient ruins. He

rarely traveled it now. Learning again to be a human occupied most of his time.

But even with his busy life, the imploring face of the fairy haunted him.

As he walked he became increasingly aware of a familiar presence. Glancing

around he spotted his little fairy friend who was beaming with a welcoming smile.

Mychal smiled back in return. “Hi!”

“Hi!” the fairy responded exuberantly despite his air of sadness. “We feared you

would not come back.”

Mychal sat down and waited for the fairy to sit beside him. To his surprise the

pixie cuddled up next to him. Looking up at Mychal bashfully he said, “You feel

good, not like other humans.”

“Well,” Mychal responded, “maybe it’s because part of me wasn’t always human.”

The fairy’s large eyes opened even wider in wonder. “You look human,” he

declared firmly.

“But I am different,” Mychal said. “Do you not fear me at all? I used to be a

centaur.”

“No,” the fairy said, “we knew you as a centaur. We watched you in the ruins,” he

said slyly as if sharing a great secret. “We know most all that happens

hereabouts.”

“What is this monster you fear? Does it live in the ruins? Wendy and I went

down into the caverns under the ruins. We did not encounter any monster other

than the pegasus, which is not a monster at all. I have heard that a monster

guards the mirror shield.” A thought crossed his mind as he remembered the dark

grey eyes looking back at him during his last encounter with the magic mirror. “Is

the monster inside the mirror shield?” he asked, his voice trembling.

“You will find the answer at the top of the steps,” the fairy blurted. “What

steps?” Mychal asked. “The steps that lead from the cavern pool.”

“The one that filled with blood when Wendy rescued the harp?” Mychal checked

himself; he almost said “stole” the harp, which she did at his bidding.

“Oh, no” the fairy emphasized, “it is the one that lies hidden within the ruins

themselves.” Mychal stared at him quizzically. He had never seen a pool within the

ruins. “It is sunken,” the fairy responded, as if hearing his thought. “It is where

the ancient one told us you would find the steps to take you to the answer you

seek.”

“But what is the monster? And who is the ancient one?” Then he remembered

Erick’s encounter with an old man in the ruins. Before he could say more, the fairy

shook his head.

“The ancient one is woman, not man. She told the tree spirit who told the rose

bush who told me.” Well Mychal thought, at least he was getting some idea of the

line of communication among the fairies. But things were becoming more

mysterious rather than less.

“Where will I find the pool that leads to the steps?”

“That away,” the fairy pointed, then disappeared.

Resuming his walk to the ruins, Mychal was struck by the absence of birdsong and

the other familiar forest sounds. The two suns that normally shone in the sky were

replaced by one larger one. Where was this place?

The path led directly to the sunken pool. He almost fell into it when the foliage

parted suddenly to reveal the azure water below a ledge. Making his way down the

cliff face he encountered large vines forming a covered passageway around the

sparkling water. Looking down into the pool it appeared to descend to a great

depth. The water was extremely cold, which surprised him as the day was quite

warm. The height of the sun indicated the sun would soon go down. He did not

want to be caught there after dark. He began searching for the promised steps

that would take him back to the top of the cliff but they were nowhere to be

found. And the stones he had used to descend had been replaced by a sheer rock

wall.

Mychal contemplated his predicament. He needed a pegasus to rescue him, but he

guessed that wasn’t going to happen. Why had he wandered into this searching for

a mysterious monster in a world of illusion? Somehow he had re-entered the world

of magic that he and Wendy had traversed before. He looked around half

expecting that strange bird to reappear, but he seemed alone. And yet he knew he

wasn’t. There was purpose hidden here somewhere and he needed to find it. But

why him? He really was just an ordinary person enjoying his second chance at being

human.

“Why did you come?” The voice was quiet, yet startled Mychal to his feet as he

searched for the source. “I’m here beside you. You tore my web.” Mychal looked

down at eight tiny eyes staring back at him. The spider itself wasn’t particularly

small, being about the span of his hand. It had a golden hue. “Well,” it demanded,

“why did you come? Surely not to simply distress me.”

“No, no,” Mychal said flustered. “I didn’t mean to harm you at all. I mean no harm

to anyone. I only meant to help the fairies by finding and slaying the monster that

threatens them.”

All eight eyes widened in horror. “You are going to harm the monster?!!”

The absurdity of the response prompted Mychal to ask, “What is the monster?”

hoping he had finally found someone who knew the answer.

“Oh, you must climb yonder steps to find the monster.” A torch lodged in a

crevice illuminated steps that led upward through an opening in the rock wall.

Mychal looked back down at the spider that wasn’t there anymore. On with it he

thought as he got up and walked towards the steps.

A mist filled what appeared to be a cave, obscuring anything beyond. It swirled

almost like a living thing. A pulsating light shone through it. Mychal wondered if

the monster was a master magician causing all these strange happenings and

seemingly controlling his actions. “You control all.” The thought wafted gently

through his mind, seeming to come from nowhere. Well, Mychal thought, he

certainly didn’t feel in charge.

The mist parted as he reached the top of the stairs. As he climbed, the natural

rock wall gave way to hewn blocks. Mychal stepped into a circular room typical of a

castle tower. A familiar bare pedestal occupied the center. A feeling of the

strange bird came over him but there was no one there but himself. Several large

windows allowed in natural sunlight. Walking to one and looking out, he caught his

breath. The view was stunningly beautiful. He was high-up looking out over a great

canyon containing the silver thread of a river. Gone were the green bushes and

towering trees of home. The vegetation was sparse and low lying. The rare trees

were small and gnarled. The blue of the sky contrasted sharply with brown dirt

and gray rock, fading into purple haze at the mountainous horizon. The monster

certainly lived in a beautiful place.

Mychal turned back to the room, expecting something to have materialized on the

pedestal, but it was still empty. That bothered him but he had no idea what he was

expecting to appear, so he climbed up on it and sat down with his legs crossed. And

then he smiled, then laughed. Maybe he was the monster! As he contemplated this

thought a loud noise caused him to turn and see the mirror shield roll to a

clattering stop against the wall.

Mychal looked around but there was no trace of another living thing. He

approached the shield cautiously, remembering the grey eyes he had seen the last

time he gazed into the mirror. He sat it upright and looked in. His own reflection

stared back at him, but in the mirror behind his image there was a door. He turned

to find the door was open.

Chapter 2……Corridor of Windows

Mychal expected to see a strange new world behind the door. Instead he found

himself in a corridor with light streaming through stained glass windows of many

different colors. As he began walking, he realized he had not brought the mirror

shield with him. It would be good protection since he had no weapon. Turning back

to the tower room, he was dismayed to discover the door had closed and locked

behind him.

With no option but to go forward, he walked to the first window which was

streaming pale blue light. When he stepped into the light his color did not change.

His clothing, his hands remained as before. As he peered through the window his

nose bumped into an invisible hard surface separating him from the glass. The

landscape beyond had a forbidding look. There seemed to be random movement in

gray shadows with neither ground nor sky. A dark figure approached causing

Mychal to step back, not wishing to be seen. The window began to cloud over until

it was completely opaque, and Mychal moved on to the next.

That window produced golden light. Perhaps this was the abode of the Golden

Warrior. Mychal placed his hand up to the window and found that it too had a

protective barrier. The light sparkled and danced as if it were alive. Single eyes

seemed to gaze at him from within a shimmering mist then disappear. Did they see

him or were they looking into the mist? Seeing no way to communicate, nor having

any desire to do so, Mychal moved away from the window as it too darkened. He

didn’t think there would be any Golden Dragons in there.

What was the purpose of his journey through this corridor of windows? He may

have found some monsters, but how were they a threat to the fairies? Perhaps the

next window held the answer.

The rays from this window seemed like natural sunlight. There was no barrier to

obstruct the cool breeze that greeted him as he looked through the open window.

There were people everywhere walking among tall buildings made of metal. Strange

carts transported them from place to place. The activity among the beings

reminded him of insects. A voice said, “You have found the monster.” A bird

landed on his shoulder. It was similar to the one in the cavern, but golden instead

of red and white.

“Who are these people?” Mychal asked. “They seem like us and yet are different.

Many people come to the village that have traveled far, but I have never heard of

any place like this.”

“It is a world you must enter if you are to tame the monster that threatens the

fairies,” the bird replied. “They are of a species caught in its own sense of self-

importance, making them jealous and greedy. This causes great violence to

themselves and all the beings of their planet. They are on the verge of opening the

corridor that gives them access to other worlds and other dimensions. They must

learn love and wisdom before they are allowed to do that, lest they do to others

what they do to themselves.”

“What can I possibly do?” Mychal asked incredulously. “I see things that I do not

even understand.”

“Yes,” the bird said. “You would be thought very primitive by this species. But it

is you who watches them; they are unaware of you. They know not the magic that

creates the universe, but even so they have created a web of energy that is very

potent; much more so than they realize. The Spider deva of the universe watches

them. It is she who wishes your help.” The bird studied him for a moment before

continuing. “You have a choice. You are not required to help. I can return you to

your world, but the door will close and the opportunity will be lost.”

“I’m willing do what I can, but please remember that I am just an ordinary man. I

am not even a particularly good magician,” Mychal replied, remembering that even

Wendy and the pixie could read his mind.

Mychal felt the bird smile, though its avian face did not show it. “It is your

consciousness that makes you different. Your energy projects outward with little

thought of yourself. It is the fire deep inside of you that makes you who you are

that is important. And that spark is bright enough to illuminate a galaxy of stars.”

Mychal sighed his deepest sigh. This was going to be difficult.

The bird fluttered from his shoulder and flew to the next window. Perhaps this

was the way to enter this world and begin his task. “You will work entirely from

the corridors of the Universal Mind”, the bird responded, which perplexed Mychal

completely. How could he possibly change anything from here? “You will use the

energy of thought,” the bird said. “It is the essence of the magic you have

witnessed.”

Not understanding its meaning, Mychal chose to remain quiet and wait to see if

the bird explained things more fully. He didn’t.

At the next window Mychal viewed a room with a man sitting reading. Suddenly

the man put his book down and looked Mychal’s way, staring intently for several

minutes. Even after he resumed his reading, the man would look up and stare at

the spot where Mychal stood on the other side of the window then, seemingly

satisfied, resume reading. The man was very like Mychal himself, yet his clothes

and surroundings were very strange. Mychal deduced that one object told time

because it kept changing the brightly lit numbers of its face. “Energy and matter

interchange through the web of corridors,” the bird whispered, “that is the key to

helping this species.”

The man suddenly got up and crossed the room to where Mychal stood. “He

senses your presence but cannot see you,” the bird said. “If he tries to touch you,

his hand will go through you. If you communicate with him telepathically, he will

see you in his mind. It will expand his consciousness to know that there are energy

beings not visible to the physical eye. The form you take depends upon his own

learned perceptions. That is the limit in the transfer of energy. Thought that

goes from mind to mind is distorted by the personal shell of energy that surrounds

a physical body.” They walked toward another window, leaving the man to

contemplate the mystery.

As they looked through the next window, the bird continued. “Unfortunately, not

all hidden energy beings are altruistic.”

Mychal recoiled in horror from a glowing red creature pulsating with undulating

waves of fury which it directed at the man whose face was livid and contorted with

rage.

The bird gently pulled Mychal back from the window. “This is what you must

conquer. You must free men from the influence of such beings. They are vampires,

feeding on the negative energy they engender in the humans. You must open their

eyes and minds.”

“How in the world am I to do that?” Mychal wailed. “You have already begun,” the

bird replied. The man’s face was no longer distorted. He had a quizzical

expression as he looked around, seemingly confused. The energy beast had

changed its focus from the man to Mychal. Then suddenly it was in the corridor

with them.

Fighting the impulse to run, Mychal stared back at it. He knew he must not let it

invade and capture him as it had the man. He could feel the anger, but recognizing

that it was the beast’s and not his own gave him strength. Mychal’s will was

formidable, surprising even himself. With no way to penetrate the energy field

surrounding Mychal the creature slowly faded, finally disappearing into

nothingness.

“Well done young one,” said the bird. “See how you have helped the man.” Mychal

looked at the man, who was less frightened yet still showed the effects of his

encounter with the beast. Finally, he sank into his chair and sighed deeply. Mychal

sighed too. It was a good feeling helping this man.

Chapter 3……Channels Between the Worlds

Mychal thought about the beast as he walked slowly to the next window, the bird

fluttering silently beside him. “Where do the beasts come from?” he asked,

stopping before looking in the next window.

“They travel the corridors,” the bird replied. “Many of them begin as bursts of

energy from the stars. They do not have any particular intent of their own. They

develop into entities called thought-forms as they absorb influences from their

encounters with other beings throughout the universe.”

“Aren’t any of the thought-forms good?”

“Yes, good intent can be created as well as bad. But because of its nature,

negative intent is more highly charged than positive. It is a state of excitement

versus contentment and well-being. The higher the charge, the greater its ability

to grow by attracting more energy. Once negative states of mind were introduced

to the man’s planet, humanity itself developed a desire for maintaining and

enlarging the thought-forms. They have gained skill in doing so with the passage of

time.”

“Can one person change it?” Mychal’s question remained unanswered in his

astonishment at what confronted him in the next window. A being of light

shimmered in the darkness before him. Dark eyes stared back at him from a

checkerboard face. Its hair was golden fire with sparkling embers that shot out

into the darkness. The energy around him pulsated and swirled. Mychal felt

himself drawn toward the checkerboard man, but he vanished into the darkness.

“Who is he?” Mychal asked. “I have seen him before in the mirror. Erick has

seen him too.”

“He is Lucifer, the Light-bearer, the true man of light. He is the dark star at the

center of our galaxy. His physical body is the equivalent of millions of suns. All our

stars revolve around him. He is all things in our existence.

“The entire galaxy is made from the energy of his consciousness. All its matter is

his energy flowing through a pattern, a thought-form, created in the mind of the

Light-Bearer. The material world is an illusion; the true reality is consciousness,

the first principle of the universal Source and Creator. Because the galaxy is made

of consciousness, the entire galaxy and everything in it is conscious as well. Just

as your consciousness has taken a physical body, so too do the spirits of the stars

and planets have material bodies. As the galaxy is of one substance with the mind

of its creator, it follows that he is aware of everything in it, great and small,

moment by moment. The paths that we walk are the corridors of his mind. They

constitute a web that encompasses all the stars surrounding him. Each star and

the planets and other celestial objects orbiting them is a crossing point of strands

of this web.

“The crossing points are two-way doors for the flow of energy between the

corridors and the stars and planets. Windows allow passage of energy to lower

levels, as you discovered at your encounter with the beast. For energy to pass

through a window there must be a connecting thread or channel. The energy can be

either positive or negative. Channels can become quite strong, and negative ones

are difficult to close once created.”

Mychal listened intently to the bird’s explanations, but at the same time was

distracted by his memories of the checkerboard man.

“You must be very careful,” the bird cautioned. “The light man in the window is a

result of the galactic energy that has accumulated around that planet. The

inhabitants have created a multitude of channels to other worlds. Much energy

from other star systems is flowing into the planet. Thought-forms, both good and

bad abound. The excitement of bad intent fuels many of their thought-forms.

Much originated elsewhere, but they build on it. All of the thought-forms are

coming together to mirror the one at the center of our galaxy. It is very potent

and powerful, but it is brimming with evil intent. It must be confronted and

brought under control by one with goodwill.”

Mychal fell into deep thought as the bird’s words sunk in. He could feel the light

man reaching out to him, calling him back. “He seeks to control you and dominate

your being, just as the energy beast did. It would feed on your energy like a

vampire and use you as a puppet to follow its impulses.”

“And you want me to try to tame it,” Mychal said with dawning understanding.

“The Spirit of the planet thinks you are equal to the task. It is certainly not an

easy one. Others have tried only to become part of it, losing their sense of self.

But you are a true spark of the Light Bearer, who has the will to purge himself of

all unworthiness. You raised the flaming sword of justice and bore the mirror

shield of truth. Only one with the purest intentions can do that.”

“This would take extraordinary strength of character. I am an ordinary person.

There are others with abilities much greater than mine.”

“You are true to yourself. And you are selfless. It is not just a little fairy that

needs your help; it is a galaxy. For the monster is poised to enter the corridors.

Unless its bad intent is brought under control, it will spread like a disease, out of

control and growing within the mind of the man of light at the center of the galaxy.

You can call upon his strength to help you. I cannot tell you to do it. It is your

choice to make. It is the greatest danger and will change you forever, but it will

fulfill that spark of light within you. The Deva thinks you are the only one who can

do it.”

“And if I chose not to do it?” Mychal asked as he thought of the love he had

found with Wendy, Erick and Gwey. “It will follow you back there,” the bird

replied. “Already your wish to help has opened the door.”

“Do I need to enter that world?” Mychal asked as he gazed into the darkness of

the empty window. When there was no answer from his companion, Mychal turned

back to the corridor only to discover that he was alone once more. Mychal looked

up and down the corridor but no bird was to be seen. He must carry on alone.

The corridor door behind him was closed. The windows he had passed were all

dark. In the corridor ahead light shone from one window. A sense of dread filled

him as he approached. To his surprise he looked down upon his friends searching

the ancient ruins for him. The window was open allowing a light breeze to caress

his face, but when he called to them, they didn’t hear. He must get back to them.

He did not want them to be hurt by the monster, but he would need their help.

When he looked farther into the corridor, he could see an open door. He ran to it

expecting to emerge into the ruins. He was surprised to find himself in a room

filled with golden light.

To the side sat a person on a golden throne. At first Mychal thought it was the

one like Wendy who had given him life. He never thought about her except to hope

that his behavior was worthy of her. But this was a man, and different. He was

dressed in pale gold, not the red of the woman.

The man smiled warmly at him. “You do not disappoint anyone. You are above

reproach. The battle you face will test your strength to its limit. We know not the

nature of this being that you face except that it is living energy. You must learn to

control it and mold it to good purpose and right intent. It is your harmlessness

that protects you. Already you have changed me from a reflection of Wendy to a

reflection of yourself. You have earned the sword and the shield; now you must

take up the crown of the sacred firebird, the Spirit of the planet you seek to

conquer. Take care my friend. I will always be a part of you, helping you do battle

in the name of righteousness.”

With those words the man and his throne vanished. A golden feather floated

silently to the floor and landed at Mychal’s feet. As he reached down to retrieve

it, a glimmer of light caught Mychal’s attention. He spun around to see what else

awaited him in this strange room.

Sitting on a podium was a helmet of gold with the sword and shield resting below.

The helmet’s crest was the same as the bird’s, but it was of gold instead of

feathers. Mychal could see his face reflected in the polished surface. He was

reluctant to pick it up or even touch it. He did not deserve to wear anything so

magnificent. His heart was heavy, for he knew it foretold a great struggle. He

yearned for a life of peace. “When danger is abroad, peace must be earned, Young

One. Only you can slay the monster,” said the silent voice within his mind.

Mychal’s reverie was broken by a whooshing sound behind him. He turned to find

the checkerboard man, drawn by the helmet, sword and shield. Pulsations of

energy pulled Mychal towards the light. Instinctively he reached for the sword

which he raised in defense, then remembered the shield. That was the answer!

Reflect the monster’s energy back towards himself. Mychal heard a roar of fury

as he grabbed the shield and held it between them. A blinding flash of light filled

the room followed by bursts of exploding stars.

Where the beast had stood there was only emptiness. The first battle won,

Mychal looked at the helmet sitting on the podium. With great reluctance he set it

upon his head.

The helmet sat magnificently upon his head as if it was part of him, surrounded

by a golden glow. “You must now go back to your world, though the beast will follow

you,” said an inner voice. “You must conduct yourself always with right action, for

that is the path to one’s true self. Know that the flame that burns within you

comes from me. My strength is your strength, and your strength is mine. We will

fight the battles together. We must bring the monster within us under control.”

With these words Mychal at last understood. He and the monster were one and

the same. Lifting the shield to his side and taking up the sword, Mychal walked

towards the door that opened before him.

Chapter 4……Doorway to the Stars

The doorway opened to blackness filled with stars and fabulously colored clouds.

Streaks of flaming light shot through the sky. “Do not be afraid,” a voice

whispered gently to him. “Your feet will find the path.”

Mychal took a deep breath and stepped gingerly onto nothing, but his foot found

solid ground. He walked forward, expecting to step off into an abyss at any

moment. He didn’t want the voice to know that he didn’t quite trust it. “You would

be a very foolish man, indeed, to not question the unknown. Take care, my friend,

for the energy you must conquer comes from the multitude of stars that make up

your being.”

As he walked with increasing confidence, the outline of a path appeared before

him. It glowed with many colors and undulating as he walked. It seemed made of

light itself. The stars around him were so stunning that he stopped to admire

them, but the voice urged him onward. “Time passes as you walk the rainbow path

of life. Your friends search for you, but they grow weary. We must return you at

precisely the instant the doorway back onto your world opens.” Mychal increased

his steps in response, finally breaking into a jog when he saw the door in the

distance. Wings appeared on either side of him and he could feel the mighty

pegasus under him racing to get to the door in time. His mind went blank as they

raced through the door whooshing closed behind them. He felt himself tumbling to

the ground, landing with a thud among the rocks of the ancient ruins.

Sticky strands of goo stuck to Mychal as he tried to get up. “Well, we meet

again, my friend,” a voice said in mock disgust as Mychal looked up into the eight

eyes of the golden spider. “Maybe this time you will stay around long enough for us

to get to know one another better.”

“You are the one that disappeared,” Mychal mumbled defensively.

“You had business to attend to,” the spider replied.

Mychal remembered his friends. “I must find my friends!” Mychal blurted. “They

are searching for me!”

“I know,” the spider said. “One of them ripped apart one of my webs. You are a

lot of trouble,” she said derisively. “But the fairies like you, so there must be some

good in you.”

Mychal just sat humbly admonished, then thought for a moment. “Will the fairies

be okay now? I have found the monster and will do my best to vanquish it. I don’t

want it to harm them.”

“Their fate rests with yours,” the spider said not unkindly.

“Mychal!” the call came faintly through the air.

“Wendy!” Mychal exclaimed. “I must let her know I am okay.”

“But you’re not okay,” the spider said with some amusement. “You’re all tangled in

my web which you have totally destroyed.”

“Well, I didn’t mean to,” Mychal cried. “This is where I fell from the pegasus.”

“Oh, and now it is the pegasus’ fault,” the spider archly responded. “Well, no

matter, we must get you free.”

“How are we going to do that?” Mychal asked. The silk clung to him as he tried to

raise his hand to brush it off. The more he brushed, the worse it spread. He was

startled to discover the spider quite close to him. She was close enough for him to

observe her body which seemed made of light. He could see through her as if she

were glass.

“Oh, dear!” she exclaimed, “you have discovered my secret!” With that she began

to disappear, taking her mangled web with her. She vanished completely just as

Wendy’s head popped up over a fallen boulder.

“Oh, Mychal, there you are!” Wendy exclaimed. “What has happened to you? You

are all bruised and dirty,” she said while brushing his smudged face lightly with her

hand.

“Ouch!” Mychal exclaimed, feeling the goose egg over his left eye.

“You have a black eye too,” Wendy commented. “Did you fall? Did you find the

monster you have been looking for? Did it beat you up?”

“Well, yes,” Mychal responded slowly to all three questions. “I found the monster

and it…” he hesitated. He didn’t quite want to tell her it was himself. So, he just

smiled and shrugged his shoulders which made him wince in pain. That in turn

caused Wendy to begin worrying about his bumps and bruises again. By that time

Erick and Gwey appeared and the two of them helped Mychal to his feet and onto

the path.

Mychal looked around slowly. “Did any of you encounter a sunken pool while you

were looking for me?” All shook their head no. “Let’s go home. How long have I

been gone?” he asked Wendy as they began their journey back to the manor.

“Why, only since this morning,” she replied. “But we came looking for you because

one of the fairies came to the manor to tell Erick that you were in terrible danger.

We came immediately to search for you.”

The fairies! Where did they fit in all of this? He only got caught in this

adventure because of his desire to help them fight off the monster. And then he

discovered that he was the monster. And yet it was all of the stars too, so there

must be more to it than that. All this speculation was making his head hurt. He

smiled at Wendy who had been watching him apprehensively as they walked. He

seemed caught in some deep thought that must be related to his adventure.

Feeling reassured by his smile, she decided he would tell her about it in due time.

Mychal felt comfort in the setting rays of the two suns casting a golden light upon

their path home.

Mychal quickly settled back into the routines of the manor, but thoughts of his

“other self” on that planet with only one sun frequently broke through to his

consciousness. What was his life like? How strange to have only one sun. But even

more important, what of the monster. Even though it exploded, Mychal did not

think it was gone. Perhaps one small part had been brought under control, but he

instinctively knew there were more aspects to this strange creature. He finally

realized that he must go back to the ruins once more to find the answer to his

questions. If the man needed help, then he must give it.

Knowing in his rational self that he should have told Wendy where he was going,

Mychal walked the path once more to the ancient ruins. They were lovely in the

light of the two suns. He strolled through the fallen blocks of stone, halfway

expecting one of the suns to disappear. They seemed as beings on exalted thrones

watching him. The feeling crept over him that everything before him was alive,

even the blocks of stone. He noticed a narrow opening in the stone wall along the

path. Stepping through it, he found himself at the edge of the mysterious hidden

pool. Water flowed gently from the top of the cliff walls surrounding it. Walking

along the edge of the pool under an overhanging stone outcrop, he searched for the

steps leading to the doorway to the stars.

“You will not find it, Young One,” a voice said gently. “The doorway has closed for

you for now.”

Mychal looked down at the golden spider sitting on her impeccable web. It, too,

glistened gold in the sunlight.

“But I know I am to help him!” Mychal blurted. “How can I do that?”

“Listen!” the spider said. “Listen with your body. Listen with your mind. Are the

thoughts and feelings going through you your own? You will learn the nature of his

energy because you seek it. Give it strength. Give it the calmness to think that is

you. Tell it to not be afraid, that you will help it through whatever madness and

distress it faces. A channel runs between the two of you. You have seen one

another through the mirror shield of reflection, though to him you appeared a

black furry thing in a human body!” she said with amusement.

“A black furry thing? Why is that so? He looked like a regular human to me.”

“The people of that world are very advanced in some ways, and yet their senses

and eyes do not perceive all of the energy of life yet. They create and yet only a

few can see the man of light. They know not yet how to use the energy for their

good. Evil intent abounds. And yet, because of the channel that runs between the

two of you, you have influence upon the man of light. You have fought your battle

with him and won, now you must help the others open the door of enlightenment.

That you can see the light flickering at the center of the galaxy shows the path is

open. Now it must be widened so that all can tread it.”

Mychal hoped that he could fulfill the need, for the monster was a dreadful one.

“What of the fairies?” he asked. “Have I helped them? Are they still in danger?”

“The fairies are more closely aligned with the other world. Their bodies are of a

different nature but a channel exists. The fairies here are much like the humans,

but on the other world they are closely associated with the vegetation. Humans

cannot see them because they too are of the energy of light. It is called dark

energy for the reason that it is invisible to their sensing apparatus.”

“And they cannot see it with their own eyes?”

“One must accept the dark realm to see it. It cannot be used for one’s own

purposes without severe consequences. It is what the humans of the other world

call karma. They are surrounded by dark energy and create their man of light

unknowingly, unaware he has the power to consume them. But you have opened a

channel that will help them gain control. You must simply do your best.” With

those words the glimmering web sparkled brightly once and disappeared. The

spider seemed to smile a farewell and left with it.

Mychal felt very alone but realized that he truly wasn’t. Another world existed

besides his own and he must help it. As he walked and thought about it, he

encountered steps out of the enclosed pool. Climbing them he was not surprised to

find himself back in the ancient ruins.

It turned dark as Mychal walked back to the manor but he had no fear. He tried

to send that message to his friend on the other world. “Do not be afraid, I will

help you.” A reassuring feeling surged through Mychal and he knew the channel

was a good one. Friends across the stars.

Book Four

The Earth’s Baby

Chapter 1……Journey to Another World

In spite of his efforts to focus on everyday chores, Mychal’s thoughts reverted

repeatedly to the strange checkerboard man who fought him in the caverns of the

Otherworld. Repeated efforts on Mychal’s part to make contact with the man he

had helped seemed to fail. He could not discern any difference between himself

and the man’s energy. Had the strange beings invaded the planet and taken over?

A sense of urgency haunted him. Someone needed his help. Returning to the ruins

once more Mychal was surprised to discover an open doorway to the Otherworld. A

beautiful planet sat framed in the opening.

“If you chose to go, there is no return through this portal.” The voice startled

Mychal and he swung round to face an unseen companion. No one was there. He

looked all around, expecting the spider to appear. As he searched for the spider,

he became aware of a dark brown cloth lying on a nearby rock. Unfolding it he

discovered a long, hooded cloak. The fabric had a glint to it, unlike anything he had

ever seen. He somehow knew that the spider had woven it for him. It was only

after he put it on that he saw the crested helmet lying on the rock where the cloak

had been. Hesitating, Mychal then put it on also.

Turning to face the door, he realized the planet was in a different position. “You

must go now before the door closes.” Mychal was torn between his love of his own

planet with friends that cared for him and this strange world that needed him.

“Do not be afraid,” the voice cautioned him when he took a step toward the door.

“The rainbow path will appear at your feet.” Realizing that he could not ignore the

plight of others, Mychal stepped across the threshold.

Unseen eyes watched him step through the doorway as a shriek of terror escaped

Wendy’s lips. The fear she was losing him forever overwhelmed her.

“Go!” her fairy companions urged her. As she moved forward to follow him

through the portal, a fairy hurried up dragging a cloak. “You must put this on. It

will make you invisible to the beings where you are going and protect you from

danger.” Wendy hurriedly slipped it on. She was here because of the fairies.

They came to her and told her that Mychal was in the ruins. A door was opening

and he would leave soon. Wendy was worried about him. He seemed preoccupied,

almost like a part of him was somewhere else. He never talked about what he had

seen or done when he vanished previously. A sense of impending danger grew

steadily within her. When the fairies came for her, she eagerly followed them

back to the ruins.

“You must go now!” a butterfly admonished her. She must not delay. The planet

Earth was moving; the doorway closing. “The path he walks is yours also.”

Summoning all of her courage and propelled by her concern for Mychal, Wendy

hurried through the doorway, her feet landing on a shimmering path soft as moss

on a forest floor.

Wendy’s concern for Mychal lessened as she pursued the shadowy figure before

her, the outline vanishing and reappearing sporadically. But his head, or at least

she thought it was his head, remained visible like a gleaming bobbing sphere. Stars

loomed large and bright in the nighttime sky. A large glowing object created a

spooky feeling. Oblivious to Wendy pattering behind him, Mychal strode on rapidly,

the rainbow path vanishing in a mist behind them. Suddenly the path ended at an

open door. Mychal leapt through it with Wendy right behind him.

Crashing through the doorway, Wendy ran into Mychal nearly knocking him to the

ground. Seeing Wendy before him, he stared in amazement. “Mychal, raise your

hood!” she blurted. “Your head looks like it’s not attached to your body!” As he

raised his hood, the top of his helmet flattened against his head like the crested

birds at home, and the sleeves of the cloaks extended over his and Wendy’s hands.

He had the disconcerting thought that the cloaks were alive. Before he could ask

how she had gotten there, she asked, “Where are we? This almost looks like

home.”

The ruins did have a familiar look to them, yet he could tell they were different.

And one sun shined in the sky above them, not two. And where were all the people

and the buildings and strange carts. What was this place that seemed so familiar

and yet different?

As they walked further, they encountered a stela with eroded outlines that

reminded him of the creatures he saw in one of the corridors of windows in space.

Wendy listened in wonder as he told her of his experiences there. “This Golden

Dragon, was he one of the creatures?” she asked. Mychal shrugged, but the

checkerboard man came instantly to mind. Remembering that the bird told him the

creatures had access to this planet, he became aware of a tingling in his body

indicating that he and Wendy were not alone in the ruins.

Their footsteps made no sound as they advanced through the ruins. A breeze

ruffled the leaves of the plants and trees but they didn’t feel it. Mychal began to

wonder if they were sharing a dream when the flutter of wings startled him as a

large bird landed on the wall beside them. Even though they were invisible to the

human inhabitants on the planet, the bird could still see them. Not trusting it to

be harmless, Mychal moved no closer.

There was a blinding flash as the bird flapped its wings and entered their plane of

being. Mychal ducked, then raised his head to see a bird like creature fluttering

before him. The undersurfaces of the outstretched wings were covered with a

checkered pattern. The wings ended in clawed human-like hands.

Behind the bird was a doorway lit crimson by an unseen source. It was not a door

Mychal wanted to go through. As they contemplated each other a blast of wind

sent the bird tumbling to the ground at Mychal’s feet.

A cloaked figure stepped out of fiery swirling mist. The face was like a mask of

tarnished silver with only blackness in the hood around it. The hands also

resembled tarnished silver.

“Welcome to Earth,” said a soft feminine voice. The trees around them began to

violently sway. “Hush!” she commanded, and all once again fell calm.

“Why are we here?” Wendy asked, seemingly unfazed by the commanding figure

before them.

A kindly aura seemed to engulf them, though no smile appeared on the passive

face. “Perhaps you should ask your companion,” the voice replied.

Wendy looked at Mychal expectantly. “There is someone in need,” he stammered.

“I came to try and help them.” The bird cuddled up next to Mychal, lifting an

outstretched wing as if seeking protection. Mychal thought it was afraid of the

cloaked figure.

“You must take great care to remain invisible to the inhabitants, even those you

seek to help. The fairies did a good job with the cloaks but failed to cover your

hands.” With those words, the cloaks extended themselves, adhering to Mychal

and Wendy’s skin like gloves.

“We’re not perfect in this reality, just different from the physical. It is a great

task you undertake. The planet swirls with energy from the stars. There are too

many gods, each trying to dominate. Only The One can be all. He is here, but

scattered in many different aspects. One of you must help bring him together.”

“Which one?” Wendy asked. “I am willing to try.” Mychal shook his head in

agreement.

“It could be either of you, or perhaps one of your siblings. They should be joining

you soon,” she said, to Mychal and Wendy’s surprise. “Take care. Do not trust that

one,” she said, pointing a finger at the bird now trying to hide behind Mychal

before suddenly vanishing. Mychal could feel the bird press closer.

Chapter 2……Passage Between Two Worlds

The little fairy informed Erick and Gwey of Mychal’s adventures for the first

time, and of Mychal and Wendy’s journey. They urged the fairy to help them go

also. Since the door that Mychal and Wendy used was closed, the fairy led them to

another portal used to access the Otherworld.

On the way the fairy informed them that the fairy paths in space connect many

worlds and that the fairies were the “first people”. They originally lived on the

planet where Mychal and Wendy were going, but things became very bad for them

there, and they donned their magic cloaks and retreated to the stars. Only a few

fairies now remained on the planet known as Earth.

On arriving at the doorway, the fairy gave the boys each a cloak which rendered

them invisible on the physical plane. Once put on, the cloaks conformed to their

bodies like living tissue.

“We must pass through the Hall of Vapors,” the fairy whispered. “Don’t touch

anything. You never know where it is coming from nor where it is going.”

Gwey assured the fairy that he would keep his hands to himself. The place gave

him the creeps.

Erick on the other hand found it all very interesting. He felt a vague kinship with

the vapors swirling around them. Like the cloaks, they too seemed alive. He felt

unseen eyes were watching him and evaluating his reactions. It did not occur to

him to be afraid.

The passageway opened into a cavern with a large pool. “Walk silently,” warned

the fairy. “We must not waken the monster that sleeps beneath the water.” Gwey

stayed close to the fairy, but Erick felt drawn to the pool. He stopped to stare

into its depths, unaware of the energy flowing upwards from the water to encircle

and cling to him even as they continued on their journey.

Emerging from the cavern they entered a tunnel of spiraling light with the stars

being clearly visible around them. Erick was overwhelmed by the sensation of an

omnipotent consciousness radiating from the void of space. While his two

companions hurried ahead, Erick stopped frequently to examine each new vista that

appeared along the way. A feeling of calm and a sense of destiny began to

permeate his being. The universe was far more complex and interesting than he

ever imagined. The fairy and Gwey seemed oblivious to the wonders that

surrounded them.

As they walked a thick mist engulfed them. Out of the mist a figure took shape,

and a voice which only he could hear told him to be unafraid. The voice insisted the

fairy must also don a cloak to be invisible to the inhabitants of the planet, because

he had been “peopleized’. He and Gwey, too, would be covered more fully.

On arriving at the planetary portal, the fairy cautioned them to be very quiet and

not waken a second monster guarding the door. They were invisible to the monster

but it could still hear them. Gwey nodded his head emphatically in compliance with

the fairy’s instructions, but Erick almost seemed not to hear, so engrossed was he

with staring at the translucent monster filled with stars floating above the portal.

Chapter 3……The Egg

Emerging into ruins very similar to the ones they had left behind on their own

planet, Erick and Gwey could hear Wendy and Mychal talking.

As Erick and Gwey climbed out of the passageway, Wendy rushed up to them.

After eagerly greeting them she entreated them to follow her to see the crazy

bird that had latched onto Mychal. Following Wendy back to Mychal, Erick realized

the fairy had disappeared.

“Look at the size of this nest now!” Mychal exclaimed as Wendy, Gwey and Erick

hurried to join him. He seemed less surprised to see them than fascinated by the

behavior of the bird. Suddenly the bird, who had been sitting on the nest,

ascended several feet into the air and burst into flames, setting the nest on fire

also.

The nest quickly burned to ashes. And there, in the ashes, lay a strange egg.

Wendy ran to it, but Mychal cautioned her, “Careful, Wendy. You don’t know what

that is.”

“Of course, I do,” she replied indignantly. “It’s a baby!” But when she reached

down to pick it up, the egg rolled away and stopped at Erick’s feet.

Erick picked the egg up and cradled it in his hands. Deep feelings stirred within

him. He instinctively knew that they had been brought here to this planet because

of this egg. What was so special about it? What was the bird that had just

burned and vanished before their eyes? He sensed movement about him.

Suddenly the energy that had clung to him since the journey swirled ferociously

around him and then flowed over the egg, causing it to morph into a magnificent

deva.

Chapter 4……Home Again

As the others gathered around Erick, the deva spoke. “Peace unto all of you.

Because of your selflessness and love, the Golden Dragon will live again. For now, I

have taken the egg into the protection of my being. Others of the fairy kingdom

will help me as we await the chosen time for its hatching. There is an evil on this

world that must be vanquished, which only the Golden Dragon can accomplish. The

energy of his being must come through the egg. Your work here is finished. There

is nothing more here that you as mortals can accomplish. Enticing the bird to lay

its egg with its subsequent rescue from the ashes was all important. Mychal’s

appearance triggered the bird’s response. And you, Erick my friend, allowed us of

the deva world to accompany you onto the planet. Without you there would be no

hope and now all is possible. But it will take time. For now, you may return to your

own world. Your favorite little friend will guide the way.” With those words the

deva vanished.

When the fairy reappeared, he wasted no time gathering his charges. As they

walked single file through the forest, Erick glanced to the side and thought he

could discern negative energy around the ruins. Had he also channeled unwanted

energy to the planet?

As they reemerged into the Otherworld, Erick saw that a wall was now present

along the misty path. The monster had disappeared. Curiosity overwhelmed Erick

and he reached forward to touch the wall. Instinctively, the fairy turned and

shouted “NO! Don’t touch anything!” Erick drew his hand back but not before

experiencing the electrified surface.

Once home the group of friends quickly returned to the routines of daily living.

But Erick was troubled about his fairy friend whom he had not seen since returning

home. Taking up the magic cloak which had been given him on his journeys, he made

his way back to the ruins to search for his friend.

The fairy met him in the ruins, he too wearing his traveling cloak. But he told

Erick that his was for a reason. He was leaving with the other fairies who were

journeying out into the great beyond. Erick and his friends would be left to live in

peace. Because of their bravery and selflessness, the Golden Dragon would live

again. Telling Erick to take care, he vanished into the greenery surrounding the

ruins, and Erick knew he would never see him again.

Still wearing his cloak, which was useless now without the fairy to guide him, Erick

found himself unknowingly in front of the same portal that Mychal had passed

through on his journey to Earth. The planet was once again framed in the portal

but receding rapidly. There the egg incubated within the protective body of the

deva. He felt a fullness in his hands and he once again held the mysterious object.

As the planet vanished from view and the portal closed so too did the egg vanish

from his hands. And yet he knew within his heart that somehow, he must make his

way back for the egg to hatch and attain its destiny. Someday…

Illustrator’s note: The illustrations in this book are composites of photographs

made by myself, 3D models which I created, and elements from photos of space

available in NASA’s image gallery on the NASA website. Use of NASA’s

photographs are not endorsed by NASA, however, the photos are not copyrighted

and may be used by anyone. This is stated on the NASA website. I hope that you

enjoyed viewing them as much as I enjoyed creating them.