Past Projects
Eldursol and the FIrst Snow
The prelude to the anticlimactic revolution of Eldursol was marked by Eve’s arrival.
This event came to prove two things:
One: that an angry wizard can and will do much more than transmogrify the object of their fury into
a mouse (in fact, wizards rarely ever do that; not many grudges can be settled by watching your enemy
gobble on free food and make nice with others of its kind), and two: that balance, even between the sun
and its flames, can be tipped over with minimal effort.
Eve’s arrival was marked by snow.
Snow, in or out of the winter season, was unusual for the continental country of Eldursol; a place
marked by the hypothetical gods of sun and fire had no business freezing its trees to the roots during any
time of the year. That was left to the northern continents.
But despite this, there it was, falling like a sluggish torrent of white dust over a capital that had not
seen such a phenomenon in, well, as far back as its history books went.
The first to notice it were the children, as it is often so. Whether it was because all children are
somehow drawn to snow or because it was unusual enough to draw their attention, or maybe simply
because the ones who attended class were too bored to have their mind not wander out the window, it
didn’t much matter. It was noticed, and quickly appreciated.
Reactions differed, but what we’ll focus on now will be two specific souls: fourteen year olds Dio
Solomon, stationed in his kitchen waiting for the clock to strike two o’clock, and Fajro Lupid Lume Corelle
Betesh (also known as Fai) who had been stuck in a high tower of the palace, pretending that he was
trying to study but who also had been waiting for two in the afternoon just as impatiently.
The first snowflakes caused a wild mix of confusion and excitement to stir up in Dio, but went sadly
unnoticed by Fai - his teacher had situated him with his back to the windows in a futile attempt to
engage the young prince’s attention. Sadly, this plan failed, as a knock on the glass drew Fai away from
the books and, with a strangled cry, he threw the window open for a bird to sit on his shoulder. Its
feathers were a sea of orange and red, flowing into blue at the tips of its feathers and beak. Most
importantly, however, it was carrying an empty blue piece of paper.
That, coupled with the snowflakes blowing into his hair, was all Fai needed.
Thanking his sighing tutor, Fai put his books away in what resembled a neat pile and ran outside to
meet his friend.
The Cave
A very long time ago, dragons could be seen and heard everywhere.
And then they vanished.
And then once again were discovered (people were very persistent to find them, so
most decided it was just as well and admitted that they were, in fact, dragons, and not just
overgrown lizards with wings as most of them had tried to pass for through the years), and
dragons became a trend – one that reached even the island principality of Morean.
People began to talk of dragons, write of dragons, discuss dragons, wear dragonthemed
clothes, play dragon-inspired games, read dragon-inspired books of all sorts and
there was, basically, an all-around dragon-craze. Even dragons themselves seemed to enjoy
the attention, some even going as far as hosting their own radio shows or starting their own
fashion lines. It was all very bright and filled with brimming zeal and sparkling shine, and
didn’t seem to be dying down anytime soon. After all, why wouldn’t they be so popular?
They’d been missing for centuries.
One person, however, did not seem to share anyone’s enthusiasm whatsoever...
The Wizard's Roommate
The first thing John did when he got home was open his laptop.
The second thing was to yawn.
The third was to allow his bag to drop under the chair.
The fourth was to kick off his shoes.
And the fifth was to stop kicking off his shoes and look down.
He jumped, chair clattering to the ground, and stared at the floor in astonishment
– or rather, at the lack thereof. John turned on his heel to look around. Everything in his
room was firmly in place, including himself, except that there was nothing to be firmly
standing on: instead of the beautiful, expensive and very polished hardwood floors that
he was renting, all John saw was darkness. None of his furniture cast any shadows, and
so the room looked somewhat... swallowed. John blinked against the phenomenon a few
times and stooped down to touch whatever the ground had become. It was a steady,
albeit chilly, surface, with no real substance to it, that felt almost like it would be sticky
if it … well, wasn't
Thursday
It was a clear, albeit cold, Monday morning - the kind of morning when one didn't
mind getting out of bed strictly for the task of turning up the heat, then hiding back
under the covers until late noon.
The kind of morning when you wouldn't expect anything unusual to occur,
would you?
Someone, however, had taken up a different approach to the matter: young Mr.
Aniston got dressed, drank his coffee and stepped outside with a whistle
The Alyssa Buildings
At 7am every morning, without any exception, the tenants of the complex commonly known
as the Alyssa buildings (a name that no doubt had come from the simple gold letters by the
entrance that spelled a simple ‘ALYSSA’ for no apparent reason) were woken up by a loud, loud
yawn. Normally, of course, a yawn would not be as loud as to wake up two buildings all at once,
but this particular yawn was always produced by the pet dragon of a tenant that lived on the
second floor of the outer building; the position of his apartment, the position of his bedroom,
the position of the dragon’s large domain in said bedroom and the wonderful way the sound
traveled between the two buildings provided for a very loud and very disturbing echo. And if
someone was not woken up by the yawn, then they’d no doubt be driven out of bed by the
following very loud apology given by the owner of the dragon.
Them.
They are three buildings that loom over a rather vacant plot of the City; there is a shopping mall
nearby, there are streets and lights and restaurants, but in a very strange disturbing way, the
immediate surroundings of these buildings are empty. The big “O” that is put up on both sides of the
tallest of the three is the only sign or indication of anything at all. People are seen entering and
hurrying out, but none of them seem to really stand out, which draws my attention even more. The
“O”, They said, stands for the circle of life, or maybe for the shape of a watchful eye, or maybe was it
perhaps for the shape of a healthy apple? Of course, as it is well-known, people usually call Them the
Organization. Government funded and ever-silent, They naturally do many things to help the City; all
kinds of scientific research, the progress of technology and all that. It is all very noble and very
important – that is the general impression we are all getting. There are even rumors that They are
working on a memory-enhancing drug, or perhaps even on mutated humans. And it is always for the
good of our City. It is very easy to know which project includes Their involvement, for somewhere on
the shiny white pamphlet you are bound to find a little O at some small corner hidden by the sigil of
the City. Eventually, if you look hard enough and have enough patience, you’re bound to see that it is
practically everywhere. I found out that when you cross the street, the O is also present behind the
lights that indicate when you should cross or when you should stop; the O is present on street signs,
in spectacles that people wear, even if you look at plants – the O, the O, the O. I keep wondering and
wondering, does that mean that They have Created everything within the City? I find myself
inexplicably drawn to the three buildings. There is some serenity in knowing that no matter what I
lose every single day, They will always be there for me. Almost as if I am being recalibrated by Them.
Doesn’t that sound wonderful?
Checkpoint
It was a busy day and an even busier doorkeeper was having two arguments at once
with three different customers.
“What do you mean I have to go through Madrid? I only need to go to Rome for a
couple of hours!”
“I have a business meeting in Palermo!”
“Ivan, please, don't wave your arms like that!"