by Rebecka “Bex” Sasich

I awoke in my cold dorm room early in the night. My whole body was tender and I felt hungover. Let me explain. On Earth my body was 49 and sickly. Here in the Mux on planet #644 my body is age 25 and I am in perfect health. Awesome, right? But the transition has been difficult and painful. I needed to get more rest and eat more food than I had been accustomed to on Earth. Seems that the path of mystic change is frequently marked by struggle. I threw on a robe and wandered to the student lounge.

I found the room dimly lit for late night study sessions. The room was divided into multiple study and conversation areas. There was a huge dark colored table for group meals. It was old, made of dark mahogany. The room was also appointed with antique chairs, couches, service tables, and modern lamps. The upholstery was dark wine and orchid in color and the tables all wore Irish lace runners.

In the back near a fireplace with a dying fire was Olive. She looked cold and tired, still in what she had gone out wearing. Beside her was a sleeping Xolo in a thick orange sweater. I wonder if Olive had made it? Her dress was of blue-gray velvet with sheer sleeves, a sort of fairy dress I wouldn’t have expected her to be wearing. From my previous encounters with her she was a master of frumpery, wearing baggy shapeless clothes at every opportunity, to hide her ample curves. She was feminine with soft features and a rounded figure. She reminded me of a milkmaid from a Fragonard painting.

Olive seemed to be taking her comfort in a pot of tea and English biscuits. She held up a cup, as a gesture to join her. She was friendly, calming herself from whatever had given her the tired and wired vibe. Her gorgeous dress had gotten strained with mud.

“It was a wild night,” she stated absently. “Have you been to the festival yet?”

“ I hit the market midweek. But I think hide and watch could be the best course of action,” I wagered cautiously. My eyes found the afghan on her lap. The colors seemed to be floating over her form in a psychedelic manner. Visual distortions were a frequent experience for me when I was tired. She held up the necklace she was wearing and seemed to be aiming it in my direction.

“Do you recognize this?” She asked meekly. It appeared to be a chandelier style necklace. “I had a pattern, but it was created through my efforts,” she said with humble pride.

“How unique,” I chirped.

Olive seemed to be staring at me. Then she chuckled gently. “It’s easy to forget that time is not linear here,” she drifted a bit. “The pendant is called the Pendant of Passage. Look at it again,” she said.

She handed the glittering decoration from her neck. Even the chain was different from ones I’d seen before. It was made from interlocking lengths of beads. Its focal point was a bone wrapped with decorative wire, jewel-like beads, and two metallic tassels. The pendant held a quartz crystal. I could feel it pulsing in my hand.

“It was made in the MUX universe possible right here on planet #644, not on Earth,” I said. I turned it over in my hands. I didn’t have the vigor to perform a psychometric examination. “It's obviously an enchanted article,” I finally stated. “I couldn’t say anymore just now. Where did you get the pattern?” I finally asked out of politeness.

“It came from a book called Blood Cults of Pyramid City, by Jodi Brennan,” Olive stated. “Yep, it’s been in The Collection since the 60s in your world,” she continued in a leading manner. “I believe it was your thesis.”

Why did this feel like I’d been Shanghaied? I was tired, confused, and my body hurt. I choked on my tea as I struggled through the information at hand.

“My name?...” I stammered out. “Did I write that book? And what do you do with this?” Questions flew from my mouth as I sat in awe squeezing the artifact in my hands.

“It can be used to help the dead return to the afterlife,” she sounded smug unintentionally.

“I’m dead,” I declared.

Olive patted my leg. “You are not dead, Dr. Brennan. We are grateful to have you back,” she said with an easy smile.

It was well past 4 AM, but inquiring minds wanted to know. And the tea tasted good to my confused being. “And this is how you ruined your dress?” I asked in a wave of nausea.

“The Keepers,” she choked on the words, emotionally. “They promise the people that their blood will buy them immortality,” she stated angrily. “It’s become really bad now. Blood donations quarterly and tithing body parts are requirements for the workers. For the higher ups, they owe a greater tith, Professor Brennan,” Her voice had dropped to a whisper.

My eyes had squeezed themselves shut in disgust. “Please call me Jodi,” I said.

Olive’s story continued, this was the part she relished “We sneak into the crypts and their grow rooms, covertly releasing anyone who doesn’t belong there. Whoever we can find,” she said darkly. “And Auzzie is the best help,” she said in a baby voice as she patted the still sleeping Oxol.

“Thanks, Olive,” I said, green around the gills, “I’m going to wake up from this creep show now,” I said as I moved towards the door.

Aussie woke and chirped, he ran towards me. “Left pocket, Dr. Brennan, er, Jodi!” she chanted as the dog hopped on hind legs before me.

I jammed my hand into my left pocket, producing a banana. I pulled off peeling and tossed a large hunk of fruit to the manically crying dog. Then I shuffled back to my room. Later I found a sticker on the peel. ‘Organic, BBF, 644,’ it said.

“Banana brothers forever,” said the voice in my mind. I patted myself compassionately. I was astounded!

by Rebecka “Bex” Sasich

When I finally went before the council of elders after my initial selection as apprentice, I learned many things. Firstly, I was given extensive knowledge of my genetics and family bloodline. My takeaway is that it has taken 5 generations of controlled free range breeding to produce me. Although, the individuals involved would have free will in these matters the fact is that important events such as reproduction and partnering would be foretold in one’s pre-life blueprint. No one is forced to do anything or is uninformed. There are no alien abductions or other creepy scenarios. The soul and his guides plan these things together during the pre-life. This is a lot of mumbo jumbo meaning I have the right kind of brain to do magic. All these efforts of my many ancestors and their guidance have achieved is creating my mind, a neural diverse brain architecture conducive to the work at hand. Without this genetic blessing I would be utterly useless.

In trial testing I had one seemingly simple task. I was to observe the master level mages then design and create an occult artifact that said master would find indispensable in the next two week period. The item was to be produced in the next 24 hour period and could only be created with what I could find in the workshop, the market, or in the apprentice kit I’d created for myself at home.

Understand I had spent no formal training regarding the esoteric in my life on Earth. The metaphysical arts had become obscured on the Earth prior to this time. And I’d spent very little time in the MUX. I hadn’t received practice or instruction there. I knew nothing of their cultures, religions, or magic practices. What I had were my heart, soul, mind, and experiences. I had the teaching of my ancestors and inner guides which occurred in my subconscious as I slept. And I had a vast array of books I had read. I had piles of books from the backs of bookstores, used books with ketchup stains from garage sales, and those special books passed from friend to friend. One winter I read every book in the occult section of the local library because I had a crush on the new librarian. I learned more than I’d bargained to learn. My other source of knowledge was TV and movies. I was a sucker for young adult fantasy type stories. They gave me cause to speculate. I did have a few mad skills and was an avid crafter. Creativity was my genie in the bottle.

But I felt inadequate. As for my apprentice kit, I had pocket rocks, oils, feathers, and incense. What seemed to be the basics. I arrived wearing a tiger’s eye necklace I’d created. It worked well to reduce distractions. But planet #644’s configuration for the esoteric arts was different from Earth’s familiar vibe. I found the workshop behind a dusty door painted a weird shade of grayed pink. I searched bins and shelves. Then I just started opening drawers. I found books, not all in English. Their significance was uncertain at this juncture. I did have a simple translation spell memorized. I’d used it on occasion to mystically see into the meanings of some art, petroglyphs, and various ‘nonsense’ type writings. I had been curious about their significance. But I didn’t have time to translate books.

A figure in black business attire with long black hair rapped on the door. It was my chosen mentor, Vincent. “How goes the battle, my neophyte?” he asked. His voice soothed me like a cup of coffee.

“This is a real challenge,” I stated. “I know nothing about you or this place.” My voice had an obvious sense of tension.

Vincent looked directly into my face. “The attempt, itself, is the most important thing,” he stated. “ We are not asking you for a specific result.” He looked at me in a knowing way. “Just use whatever is at hand and keep it simple,” he stated in earnest. Then he smiled his bedeviling big smile and slapped the door like it was the side of a pickup truck. “Make it work,” he stated, objectively, heading towards the lounge.

I gasped a little. The catch phrase of weird America’s favorite mentor, Tim Gunn. That was the universe reassuring me. No more than an instant later a heavy pain grabbed me. I squeezed my eyes shut. I saw Vincent, within my mind. There was an explosion, a bullet entered his sternum. I saw splatterings of red on a crisp tuxedo. I held onto the narrow shop bench and wiped the sweat from my forehead. I’d had premonitions before but this was a slam damner. I drew a circle in the dust of the work bench as the pain exited rapidly.

Suddenly, I noticed a set of pliers. It seemed like they hadn’t been there a moment before. I looked at them and they glowed momentarily on the thick wooden surface. Was the tool enchanted? I didn’t know, but the blue handle of the pliers seemed to smile as I slid them into the deep front hip pocket of my dungarees.

I returned to my room still somewhat disoriented, but feeling more confident. I shut the door lightly and heard a voice as I did. “Empty your suitcase on the bed,” commanded the disembodied voice. I did so without question. I’d heard voices before and seen visions, but it was usually in the night when I was half asleep. But ambition was growing and I didn’t resist. A luna bar fell onto the growing pile and I inhaled it. Then the wink of a shiny object caught my eye. A wire hanger I’d packed for a different adventure, I’d never unpacked afterward, appeared. I suddenly knew a plan was spinning around me and I understood what I needed I would discover in this room. Optimism enveloped me.

By morning I had rested and was nearly finished with an amulet of protection. I repurposed my necklace for beads and the chain. I used a hematite pocket rock from my kit. I incorporated the wire from the hanger. But the last item was a hum dinger. I had searched an olive green metal cabinet in the corner of my dorm style room. Turning every stone was the order of the day. I had found the sternum of a young deer under some towels. Seemed like a weird coincidence, but beggars can’t be choosers.

I prayed and then I gave the object the blessing of my ancestors. “It came together really well,” I whispered under my breath. I held the necklace in the air to see it better. I felt proud, “I have made a thing and it’s so…”

“Perfect,” whispered the empty room. The voice hissed like the Cheshire Cat’s voice. I grinned at the air.

Fifteen minutes later before the council of elders I submitted the Survival Pendant to Vincent. “Wear it to the ball, “ I stammered, then dropping my work into his waiting hand.

He examined the piece momentarily and smiled in a wild manner. “ I get a fashion consultation as well,” he announced, playing to the council. “I’ll be sporting Earth style finery at the ball,” he jeasted, milking a few chuckles to lighten the mood. “Seriously, though. It’s well made. You were resourceful. Good work,” he stated in a powerful voice. There was a sense of approval throughout the room.

I was returned to Earth that afternoon with no fanfare along with the other potential novices. When I next saw Vincent his arm was in a sling and he wore the Survival Pendant around his neck like a badge of honor. He hugged me one armed, grinning.

“Congratulations to our newest recruit,” he said, warmly. He looked at me and wagged his finger. “I’ll bet there’s a story behind this,” he teased.

“Can’t wait to tell it,” I returned with confidence. I felt all my unseen helpers around me like a warm sweater. My heart swelled with gratitude. I knew I was in the right place.

by Rebecka “Bex” Sasich

Toddi was that girl. In Hollywood, these women are known as “IT GIRLS'', the woman of the moment. Everywhere she went even strangers seemed to recognize her. She had a fire that drew people to her. Her red hair, the way she walked, and the way she dressed and adored herself, she was the woman other people wanted to be. She appeared to be a Nordic type Pleiadian for what I know of extraterrestrial species. Tall and unusually slender, the Nordic type Pleiadians are built like high fashion models. But could she be Pleiadian? Her manner was too forward and her style was so casual and funky. I’d never seen Pleiadians sporting anything other than sleek unitards. Toddi was wearing ripped 501 jeans, a bando top in fuschia, along with a smart hound’s tooth menswear jacket. Her garments seemed to be tailored to perfection. Accessorized with a wild looking bone and silver toned choker. It was emblematic of the region

Laszlo had found his way to me through the sea of bipedal forms. He looked fierce in a red empire style day dress with its opulent looking print. He was also sporting a long wig colored half cherry and half raven that suited his every mood. Laszlo was feeling festive and mildly inebriated.

“Who wore it best?” he proclaimed, smirking. Then he twirled for all to admire. I chuckled at his clowning. Laszlo had dedicated his week to fasting and work, so cutting loose was in order. The course he was taking was called, Summoning Shamanic Realms. It required intensive outside preparations. This week’s laboratory experience required that he fast for three days and then eat an orange. The project was done with an experienced instructor and under medical supervision. This process was a long time shamanic staple for a vision quest in a certain ancient near eastern tradition. The ascorbic acid on a fasting subject created an amazing array of visual stimuli. When combined with other techniques this method could yield viable results.

“Who is she?” I said, pointing my gaze towards Toddi. “I’ve never seen her before. How could you miss her?” I said with intense curiosity.

Laszlo, still mired in elation, began singing, swaying to the sound of himself. “Beautiful lady,” he sang at my face, shifting his shoulders back and forth in rhythm.

I hadn’t ever seen this woman before and that bothered me because it seemed like I’d known her before. Was she a student or professor? She could even be an elder because the appearance of youth meant nothing around here, time has different effects on the body on planet #644 and magical beauty charms were in common usage. I wondered if she was using one. Laszlo had continued amusing himself as I contemplated Toddi.

Then I shot Laszlo a look, noticing a faux pax. “Laszlo, there’s lipstick on your teeth,” I said, pointing to the corresponding tooth in my mouth. “And why do you always insinuate that I’m looking for someone and then try to guess who that someone should be?” I said in a tone of pretend irritation.

“The reason would be the 1989 film, Earth Girls Are Easy starring Jeff Goldblum, crabby pants,” he cackled. “Help me freshen up in the community restroom and I will spill the tea. He started towards the bathroom with me in tow, loudly mouthing, “Pyramid mixers are a hoot!”

Once inside I dart to the mirror. Facilities of hygiene and excretion are different on planet #644. With the possibility of serving any of the 43 known extraterrestrial species, some of whom have as many as 9 discrete genders; the categories of male and female won’t cut it here. Wisdom had chosen to divide the usage of these facilities in collective and private use.

“She’s a Pyramid City liaison,” he said, opening the gorgeous clutch he had been carrying.Then the door opened with a loud and abrupt swing.

“Hi,” said Toddi with a detectable nervous tension to her voice.

“The ever effervescent and always resplendent Toddi, I presume,” said Laszlo in imitation of Sherlock Holmes.

“Laszlo,” nodded Toddi, replying in an all business manner. Then her attention turned to me. “We have a friend in common,” she said. “The shopkeeper, the one who looks like an old surfer. That’s my dad!” she smiled as I took the words into my mind, with caution. “His name is Virgil Goodman, and you are the amazing Jodi from Earth,” she continued. I crossed my arms, like a TV gangster at the accolade.

“See, I knew I’d learn what I wanted to know if I brought him in here,” I said in faux earnestness. Toddi grinned and shook my hand. She went on to explain that her given name was Theodora. After a moment of small talk she seemed to change moods quickly. She appeared to scan the restroom quickly and then Toddi looked at me, pulling off the intriguing jewelry from around her neck. I watched her, fascinated by the wrapping of a sculptural animal bone adored with small, vanilla colored glass beads set off by a chunky silver tone necklace. Then she shoved it into my purse.

“Take this,” her voice was serious. “Time is very short and it’s a bad meeting place. Instructions.” She slid a small, neat little scroll into my hand. I didn’t know what to say or what to do. The next thing was strange. She seemed to be looking into my soul with a warm smile. Next I felt a profound sense of lightness and tingling like I was getting a power-up in a video game. I was overwhelmed by the foreignness of this situation. Then she exited the lavatory as quickly as she had entered it. I stood, stupefied.

“Interesting,” concluded Laszlo. The contents of his clutch had colonized the counter top and I sensed that a ritual was to take place, a ritual involving eye shadow. I stood thinking. “Jodi, Jodi Camp Counselor is on the case,” he announced.

“In this instance it might be Nancy Drew,” I replied. ”I gotta motor, Laszlo. Ya good?”

Laszlo nodded and waved, still communing with the mirror. I sped out of the community restroom back into the mixer. No Toddi. I looked from side to side and walked past the buffet, avoiding scatterings of stray chairs. I really needed to know what had just happened. I commanded myself to be smart. No need to chase down a stranger, through an unfamiliar city, on an alien planet, at night. Plus, my body felt achy all day and I wanted my bed. I continued out towards the dormitory suites.

“Hey,” called a friendly voice from inside my head. “It’s Toddi. Just think to me and I will hear you.” Surprised at this turn of events, I trudged the path to my room where my bed lay in waiting.

The pleasant voice continued, “Awe, is it that time of the month?” it asked in sympathy. “Oh, the answer to your question is Pleiadian and human hybrid. My dad was in the same program as you a long time ago,” the voice continued. Just then I found my darkened room and slipped inside.

“Before you get comfortable, put your bag into your cabinet,” Toddi’s voice continued from within my mind. I went to the cabinet tossing in my bag and rubbing my neck. I had the sense this cabinet was not standard issue furnishing. No one seemed to have one but me.

“Correct,” replied the same voice. “We installed it here for you, it’s coded to your DNA and works for you, alone. Let’s just say you were expected,” she continued. “And it can serve as a confidential hiding place.” With that I shut the cabinet door and threw off my clothes. “All I need is for you to charge the necklace, I’m doing a big job,” the voice said as I was sliding beneath my blankets.

“What is it?” I said in my mind. “I’d thought it was for putting on glamors.”

“There’s a brief explanation in the scroll I gave you. Simply put it stores energies for the purpose of dispensing justice,” Toddi’s voice continued. I felt weird, confused, and imposed upon. “When I’m finished I will take you to the house and explain in detail. For the time being the less you know, the better.” Now, I felt angry. This is so stupid. My face was getting red and hot.

“Why do you think I would do this for you! I don’t even know you!” I hollered from beneath my blankets into the air.

“Because I’m your cousin for starters. My dad is your uncle,” Toddi continued with telepathic cheer. The words came over me, concussing in my gut. I laid motionless as my questions floated above me. “I’m going to steal a Walmart,” the voice championed, proudly within my brain. “And I need it by Monday.” With that my mind snapped shut. Exhausted and bewildered I pulled a pillow over my neck, stared into darkness.

by Rebecka “Bex” Sasich

I was dreaming, but didn’t realize it. I felt comfortable and the air around me smelled like baking cinnamon rolls. I was walking the back streets of a small town in the Pacific Northwest. I was lightly dressed, there was a mild breeze and the sky was the perfect shade of blue. Then I noticed the wind had stopped, the leaves remained still, and nothing was moving within my sight. I stopped and sat on a vintage style iron bench. It had been painted in black enamel. Then I stared up into the sun. It was white. Everything in my field of vision was white.

Suddenly the form of a dove flew in front of the sun, it appeared to be black in contrast. Then I realized I was not outside. I was in a bright, white room wearing loose white clothes seated at a country style table. The table was also white. The black dove landed on the table before me, dropping the jewel toned pomegranate from it’s grasp. I looked at the pomegranate’s leathery, red skin as the bird hopped onto the back of a nearby chair. Then this bird took on a shiny appearance, seeming almost liquid. Dark liquid flowed from the dove’s form overfilling the chair, creating a human form composed of the light of a midnight sky. The room seemed to darken around me as I held the gifted fruit. The androgenous figure of blackness began to speak. I struggled to listen. It was impossible to comprehend. Then the beautiful pomegranate felt soft and degraded almost instantly into the embodiment of bloody, ground meat. I held it tighter but I was powerless to hold the fluids within my hands. Dark opaque redness coursed through my fingers, and down my wrists. I watched in terror as more and more blood covered the loose tunic I wore. It spilled onto the white skirt I was wearing, then onto my white leggings and shoes. I felt a sense of ruin, as though my very being were contaminated by the force of this disintegration. My hands held the rind of the fruit I’d accepted moments ago. I was afraid that something from beyond was taking over. Finally, my eyes forced themselves open.

I awoke confused and uneasy in a haze of discomfort. I forced my way from the embrace of a warm bed still reeling from the strange dream. The room was cold and I needed to attend to the needs of my body. I finished a shower in haste. Then I dressed in a big, comfortable sweater, the kind that contents the spirit with memories of fall days and farmers’ markets. By the time I’d found the cafeteria and my friends, I’d forgotten the dream.

I returned 45 minutes later cheerful and happy to begin my coursework. My bed was made in a formal way with a crisp, white coverlet. The dormitory had no maid service and my bedding was purple. It seemed like a strange prank, until I noticed the pillow. Then fear blew through me and my intentions for the day ahead. What lay on the starched white pillow case belonged to Vincent, my mentor.

My teacher, Vincent, was great at what he did. But his sharpest pupils all wore metaphysical blockers, to tone out his many charms. Everyone had their own way to create a blocker, I’ve always found that a polished cats-eye works wonders. The metallic, golden stone has saved my wallet at the mall many times. It works through its frequency, inhibiting the desire for things one doesn’t need. I was here to learn and to work.

Vincent had found his desirability to be to his detriment. It was a blessing that only created a distraction. He was fit and masciline in form with coppery skin and lush black hair he wore in a classic french braid. His irises were very dark and admitted no one into his depth. Vincent was about 150 years old in Earth years, but wore his body as one of a healthy, 30 years old human. And his voice was rich and buttery. His expansive knowledge was enough to make me swoon and his speech was eloquent and flowing. But I had fortified my libido and enjoyed my classes. Again and again I had cringed as I watched Vincent captivate a room in lecture, his voice like molasses. I had seen the bodies relax and tighten to the rhythmic elixir of sound. People of all genders and species blushed at the mere mention of his name. More than one novice had chanted over a red candle to incite his interest. Some weeks later would find the same individual, filling a jar with rusty nails and urine in revenge when they had somehow failed to melt his heart.

In the short time I’d spent as his apprentice, I’d learned many things about him. I knew that Vincent was not interested in chasing woo. There are so many more elevated goals for a master mage. Through his diligence alone he had attained the skills of shapeshifting. I’d seen the necklace he wore when he used his rare skill. It was created from a dove’s foot, artfully wrapped in a rare metal not attainable on planet #644. He wore this enchanted pendant on a thick bronze toned chain, crafted by a blacksmith in Pyramid City. I found it unusual that he had used a dove’s foot only because the consumption of most animals and use of their parts was forbidden in the most powerful religion in the region. Breaking their tradition could lead to difficulties, even for us outside their church. Why did he allow me to see the pendant he coveted? I chalk it up to trust and he also enjoyed my audience. I was an excellent student. He found nurturing my blossoming gifts gratifying enough to show me his most prized tools that were so necessary in his arsenal.

We both enjoyed the closeness of our relationship within it’s parameters. But we both had private lives and secrets. And using the blocking method I had used also kept me from sensing what Vincent was keeping from everyone. He was addicted to yellowtime, a substance with euphoric effects, used by the membership of our local cult. Vincent had compromised himself to this ruthless organization although he clung to his delusions of invincibility. And now as I looked upon Vincent’s shapeshifter necklace, I knew one undeniable fact. Vincent had been seduced into taking their highest sacrament, the wine from a boutique grown fruit nourished on human blood. The sacramental blood fruit insidiously intertwined with him on a fundamental level. I knew he had passed the limits of redemption and would soon become a fully consecrated member of The keepers of the Pyramid. I clutched the necklace to my chest in agony. I knew the dream had been from Vincent.

by Rebecka “Bex” Sasich

By this time, I knew planet #644 and the MUX better. They were very different from Earth. As for the planet #644, the sun is brighter here, much like the American southwest. Drinkable water is far below the ground. Liquids found pooled at the surface should be avoided at all cost. These pools, though beautiful, usually contain a crystalline liquid which is deadly to most life forms. The strange geomagnetic storms often caused insomnia. Another unusual phenomenon were the garbage storms. The rear ends of a wormholes have appeared in the atmosphere for at least the last 500 years showering planet #644 with its leavings. These storms can provide a huge boon for the local economy. The nearby city, called Pyramid City, was a wonder of the endurance of the human spirit. Its many sites were hob cobbled together from 500 years of desert abundance. And magic worked especially well here.

Today I bungled about in the library of The Collection. My rank as novice entitled me admittance to three monstrous levels, each about the length of a shopping mall. Three stories of books, technologies, and artifacts, imagine what could be found. My friend Laszlo served as librarian although his official rank was ‘collector’. I sat at his desk in the empty library, not oriented to any specific task. Laszlo was content to lean on the counter. He was sampling a slice of fig cake I’d brought him. Festival time was a quiet time for those who tend to The Collection and we were bored.

Laszlo was dashing in a maroon peg leg suit with a Depeche Mode Enjoy the Silence tee shirt and combat boots. He wore close cropped bleached hair and dark nail polish. His face was that of a Byzantine Jesus with large eyes and tiny sensuous lips. The tall librarian reached around me grasping for the drawer of his mid century business desk. The cracked opening glowed, peaking my curiosity. I pushed away his hand to pull fruitlessly at the gray enameled drawer. Laszlo began to laugh.

“Are you always so silly?” accused my friend. He continued to laugh as the drawer slid effortlessly under his well tutored hand. In the back of the drawer a metal compartment was holding the quarry. Gasping momentarily I dug my hand into the little metal box behind Laszlo’s office supplies and stock of plastic folks.

“Some regard these little beauties as cult treasures. A high price was paid for them,” Laszlo said with some reverence. “But they made their way here just the same.” He sighed. I was curious as to why these artifacts were with us too. By this time I understood that the religious organization, The Keepers of the Pyramid, and the organization responsible for the care of The Collection were not one in the same. Laszlo and I are in a kind of fellowship who tends to the magic and many wonders held in the Great Pyramid, known to some as the Tenants of the Collection.

“They really are the eyes of cult members, “ he noted in a scholarly manner. Three glassy eyes stared up at me from their elaborate settings, one eye brown, the other two blue. “At a ceremony called the final tithing the eyes are donated and preserved with the crystalline fluids of Lake Redemption. These three are especially fine examples.” The eyes seemed to sparkle giving me the eerie sense of the malice within each ring. I found myself choking in shock as the artifacts seemed to stare through me.

“Maybe not the best security. They were recently acquired and the boss hasn’t exactly said what to do with them,” he snapped, as he grabbed the rings from me. He dropped the rings casually into the depths of his pockets. He grinned as he explained, “these should never be shown in public, it isn’t really safe.” He pulled a plastic spork from the still open drawer. “It is also forbidden to eat in the library,” he gleamed, tapping my nose with one finger.

I chucked at his antics even though he had taken the rings from me. The rings of final tithing were now on my watch list. I knew I would see them again. “Just tell them I used my powers against you, forcing you to eat cake,” I laughed out loud. “Let him eat cake!” I blurted out.

“Not necessary, but thank you,” he said, laughing again at my chivalry. “ No one would believe me,” he reassured me, rubbing his belly. “ I would tell them the truth, no harm, no foul.” Then he looked at me with a serious intention. “The Collection is hungry, Jodi.” Laszlo’s voice was stern, as if this was a warning. “Whenever there is a happenstance or something seems to be amiss, that’s what I tell them. It can get pretty weird here once in a while, I don’t try to hide that fact or explain it. I’m not responsible for what the collection wants or does and I will never act as though I am. And some things are just, well for lack of a better word, secret. So I tell them a general truth that hides the tinier truths. The Collection is hungry. That’s what I say and that’s all anyone ever needs to know. But we too should remember this, each day,” he said as he took a huge bite. I felt Laszlo’s words echo through me with a chill. Words to remember.

by Rebecka “Bex” Sasich

It was the shade that first called me to enter the trade stall. The structure measured around 10 x 20 feet on the inside. Scavenged, vegetive stalks were bound together as a makeshift frame. Swaths of a crude, brown sack cloth created the walls, ceiling, and door. Colorful items hung from the ceiling, makeshift tables held goods of every variety, and large baskets held skeins of yarn. The exoticism of the stall put me into a state of wonder and ease.

The proprietor was a large man in a long brown tunic with dark sandy hair. He smelled of cloves. I eyeballed his gorgeous beads and tried to act natural. He and I were alone in his simple shop. I gazed through tools, art, jewelry, and everyday items on his table tops. I made eye contact with the shop owner and he looked at me in a mischievous way.

“You are new to Pyramid City,” he stated knowingly. I guess jeans were the uniform of the outsiders who worked at the Great Pyramid. He then smirked, brightly, “I have something to show you.” His gray eyes glistened. He pulled what seemed like a wooden strong box from beneath a table in the back, setting it down with a thump. He knew no one would intrude as the sun was high and hot. He had read me and I felt a little dumb. I approached his table as he pulled a small silken pouch from the box, grinning. What was it? Should I touch it?I love to touch things.

“Can I touch it?” I asked sheepishly.

“That’s how psychometry works,” he replied. I was taken aback by his familiarity. “By the way, some might call this a forbidden object.”

I was intrigued. The shiny, purple fabric of the little bag beckoned me. I needed to know what was inside. I opened the pouch and felt a ring. I pulled it out and held it to the light. I was embarrassed to use my ability in front of a stranger. Then I stumbled where I stood as my mind eased over the surface of the ring. It had a carved bone skull captured by woven metal, three dark red garnets surrounded the bone. I was drawn into the ring and was pulled forth into a sphere of reality beyond myself. Darkness. Fire. Blood. So much blood. Then I had the sensation like I was struggling to breathe. The shopkeeper chuckled.

“It’s known as a blood letter’s ring. You know, worn by the folks who harvest the tithings,” he said in a weirdly chipper tone. “You are so new, “ he assessed. Then he shook his head. “The darned counsel,” he started, “don’t bother to give the novices a social studies lesson before they recruit you.” He was trailing off now, “damned shame.”

As I continued to stare into the tiny skull I felt my being enrobed with wanting. I needed the strange and darkly magical artifact. Then the man before me grinned a mouth full of dingy teeth.

“It’s yours for a nominal fee,” he announced in a winning tone. “If you can manifest a Big Mac with all the accouterments, right here and now it’s yours. Extra ketchup. And if anyone finds it, you didn’t get it from here.”

The greasy smell of hot fries wafted around us. He turned to discover two large McDonald’s bags, still streaming, along with a vanilla shake and a Coke, on the side table. His eyes alighted.

“People call me Goodman,” he said with a grin. “I can tell we are gonna be friends,” he said, plunging his hand into a big white bag for a fried apple pie. Then he found fries with the other pudgy hand. I watched Goodman peripherally as I stood examining my new artifact. Within moments he was wearing both ketchup and pie. But I was stumped. Usually I view spilling one’s food on oneself to be a positive omen, proof of one’s honesty and good naturedness. But Goodman was a different breed, not a forgetful genius. I had to admit, I don’t quite trust this man. But his prices were right. Nevertheless, I was glad to have a resource outside of the Great Pyramid. You never know when your contacts will come in handy.

by Rebecka “Bex” Sasich

I’ve speculated amongst my peers how it is that the door between worlds is permeable now. Is it open only to those who have been born with special gifts, attaining secret knowledge? Or does it strike like lightning, threatening to take anyone at any moment? We would soon learn.

On what had been proclaimed New Earth, by many internet psychics, a myriad of changes were transpiring. At the same time, many of the inhabitants of New Earth barely noticed. Our planet was gradually becoming different and our bodies were feeling strange, but most folks went on like business as usual. Those of us who acknowledged that things were changing relegated ourselves to dark corners, speaking within our small groups, and learning what we could in the shadows and fringes.

I spent that time quietly gaining inner strength, like a medicine, and I honed my skills. The special gifts, which had lain hidden for so long, had always whispered to me with gentle yearning. The mind of the MUX visited me and taught me in the quiet hours. It showed me the planet #644, and told me secrets. I could feel the quiet metamorphosis. My cells developed from directions hidden for eons in my genetic code. And in half a lifetime I began to reclaim the cunning and skills I had acquired many lifetimes before. The transition was crippling and painful, changing the trajectory of my life. It was then that I received contact from the council of elders on planet #644 to receive training and to be of service. My name is Jodi Brennan and I am a novice mage tending to an ancient entity known as The Collection.

And as it had it, I've always had a knack for makery. Even in the worst pain my desire to create was without end. I tried every craft, I studied art, and I even did some light construction. And I made attempts to serve others through my teaching. But chronic illness can change many things. On planet #644 I was healthy! At the Great Pyramid, my spirits renewed, I again made time for others with what extra I had.

One of my classmates I quickly came to like was Luca. She was laid back, funny, and smart. Luca was known to pull her weight on class commitments. She even took those of us from off planet sightseeing. We became fast friends, we shared many interests and really vibed. There was just one really one strange thing about her, Luca was royalty. That’s right, she was in line for the Felinian throne and a heck of a gal. She actually had official duties to which to attend. So when I noticed how inexplicably unhappy and anxious she appeared to be at the thought of attending another state function I really took it to heart and felt that I needed to help.

At this time I was ranked superior level novice. I didn’t think it would be a big stretch to produce a serviceable artifact, but it had to be right. I needed to create a magical item that would be considered fashionable enough to pass as mere ornament at a diplomatic affair. Planet #644 was renowned for its stunning rock specimens and I knew I could create something that would fit the bill. I worked secretly to create the artifact, even utilizing my connections in Pyramid City to quickly find an interesting tourmaline. Within a week Luca received an anonymous gift, a beautiful object of protection which could also be utilized as a cloak of invisibility. It was also encoded to her auric frequency for ease of use and came with a note asking her to wear it to the event.

When I next saw her she hugged me fiercely. “I knew it was from you! She smiled her million dollar smile. “I knew before I opened that little box you had hatched a scheme. You saved me!” Then with a tear in her eye she whispered, “How can I repay you?”

I looked at her straight on, “What do you mean? You’re my friend, you can’t repay me, you gotta keep me.” Then I began to snicker. “Promise you will never let me wear white pants and always be my friend.”

She winked and squeezed my hand as we continued to class.

I sat beneath the cottonwood trees, near a circle of brightly colored picnic tables. They were turquoise, coral, and apple green. There was playground equipment in the small sandlot behind me. This pocket dimension felt really good at this moment. The wonder of changing seasons had always captivated my senses. Taking a little time to see the falling leaves with the mild autumn weather seems like a good choice. Just breathe, ‘I told myself.’

“Hello,” said a curious voice nearby. I had stationed myself far enough from the food, it wouldn’t have been happened upon unintentionally. One must cross a wide patch of grass to reach my spot. The figure of a person stood above me blocking the sun. “I'm Knox,” the person stated. I realized she was the female monk who was going to help us with Lazlo. Knox was dressed in drab work wear. The dull mustard carpenter pants and the khaki tactical jacket seemed very appropriate to life in the woods. Max was a stout woman with long dark hair. She had dark eyes and tan skin. From the look of her large hands, she was no stranger to chopping wood or constructing shelters. I reached up to Knox and extended my hand. “Jody,” I replied. Knox nodded cordially, helping me to my feet. She seemed very tough and masculine, no frills.

Knox looked at me directly. I noticed she was wearing an unusual pendant, but it seemed familiar at the same time. It reminded me of one of The Keepers artifacts. It was a gorgeous piece. Seemed out of place with Knox's spartan gear. The pendant was almost as long as my pinky, this beautiful object hanging from a velveteen ribbon on Knox's neck. Its dazzling blue eye is centered in concentric circles of delicate metals. Bronze, silver, and copper. The intensity of the blue eye was matched by half a dozen blue dolomite nuggets. This arrangement was topped with a red blush pearl, a piece of amber colored carnelian, and crowned with a large, dark garnet. All these semi-precious gems are captured by undulating strands of copper and silver twists, keeping them all in a visual orbit around the mysterious eye.

“I'd like to have a few words with you,” Knox stated. “I'm organizing a life bath for Lazlo, I like you to participate, as well as your kinfolk. Y'all are like family to him.”.

My eyes didn't stray from the necklace. “I see you are wearing an enchanted necklace,” I mentioned, as I looked back into her eyes. I could feel my anger rising. “It's similar to some of the pieces I've seen from The Keepers of The Pyramid in Pyramid City. Seeing you wearing it scares me, actually,” I stammered.

“Your aunt Boufey has explained your situation in some detail. I’d say that's completely understandable. You've been through quite a lot,” said Knox. I leaned on the cottonwood tree and wiped my hands on my leggings, looking away from Knox. I wished I could run away into the trees. My friends and my community at the Great Pyramid were gone and I didn’t understand why.

Next she continued, “the pendant is one of a kind, The Eye of the Djedi. That's me, that's what I am, Djedi. I belong to the ancient Order of Thoth. I'm the warrior priest of the local community temple. We keep the old gods here.”

I was still hesitant about Knox, but her story seemed to have a little traction in my gut. Knox removed the pendant for my inspection, handing it to me. And I took a look at it. It seemed much older than the ones the eye rings I'd seen from the Keepers. The penant was dazzling and practically pulsing with energy in my hand. Impressive in construction and for its powerful magic.

“I'm a long time associate of your friend Lazlo. His dive into Lake Redemption was carefully choreographed. The plan revolved around this, the Eye of Djedi, to ensure his safe return. He had begun consulting with me several years before you arrived. I’ve worked in situations like this before. And necromancy is one of my specialties.”

My mind replayed my sense of woundedness. This was brutal, the betrayal. But I kept silent.

“I realize you are probably incensed. I would be. It wasn't fair that he planned all of this without telling you. We thought it was the only way to

keep you safe. Why do you think you are here now? Why do you believe that David Dracos hasn't apprehended you?” Knox asked pointedly. I felt hurt. My heart and my stomach felt like they were swimming. “This was nuts. It's almost like the ground is evaporating under me, Knox. The more I know about all of this the less I understand,” I finally just blurred it out.

“That's reasonable,” Knox told me. “You became collateral damage. But you are not in a cage, loaded on yellowtime, and drooling. You are alive. Butt hurt, but alive, and fundamentally alright.”

I looked up into the sky. The clouds mimicked an angry sea. Was it my destiny to be pushed right into the ground by an angry God? “Laszlo messed up,'' I concluded, finally, taking a deep breath.

“Yes, he did,” Knox agreed.

“What could possibly be so important that he would put me through this?” I demanded.

“Bob,” Knox said.

I looked at Knox, my brow furrowed. I didn't understand what she was talking about at all.

Knox spit into the grass. Then redirected her gaze at me. “Bob, who you know as the collection, was able to escape his incarceration in the Great Pyramid under David Dracos.

This caught my attention like a kick in the pants. “That's phenomenal,” I exclaimed.

“It's a big win for the White Hats,” Knox stated, grinning. “Now we can bring Dracos and his organization to its knees.” Knox showed me her fist in solidarity for this cause.

I could have hugged her. Vincent always said it is all about the big picture, don't sweat the small stuff. I nodded and found myself grinning with her.

“So what we will do to resurrect Lazlo is this. You and your kin and kith will prepare for this as though you were getting ready for a vision quest. Use the same protocol of fasting and prayer and the same prohibitions of intoxicants and sexual activities or any other heroic uses of

your spiritual energy,” Knox instructed. “We will be rotating through steam baths to fortify our internal guidance of the ancestral spirits and those most ancient of our personal spiritual cultures. Then we will combine our energies to reanimate Laszlo. This initial ceremony should take 48 hours. We'll schedule it to take place at the most optimal alignment of the three moons. That will take place in several months. Shaman from off-planet will also be an attendance. Goodman has recruited nearly one hundred souls. Immediately after this we will employ The Eye of Djedi,” Knox concluded.

“The Reptilians have manipulated the original purpose of what is now called yellowtime in order to make cattle of humans. Before the Keepers of the Pyramid it was the sacred and ceremonial mildly psychoactive Eucharist of our people. Its metaphysical properties were a secret that was stolen nearly 5000 years ago. Yellowtime has a unique property we will be exploiting. Every individual who has even ingested this substance is spiritually connected in a sort of immaterial collective. Some imagine this to be like bees to the queen of their hive,” Knox smiled again as she spoke. “Through the power of The Eye of Djedi we can sync up with each and every mind in its membership. Their energies will accumulate in one deposit, ripe for the taking. Now, this is the fun part. The Eye of Djedi will siphon off energy from this energy hive that has been created by all beings trapped in the web of yellowtime. Then we will seize control of that honey pot of energy for our purposes, reinvesting it as life force to put into Lazlo. There's not one thing Dracos can do to stop it. And many of his congregants should be able to shake loose now because those who can access the energy can use the spiritual powers of the entire group to override the curse of old Uncle Charlie. And that's what we're going to do,” she said, smiling.

Knox offered me a firm handshake. Something in my world finally made sense. The day of reckoning was at nigh.

I woke up around 6:00 p.m. in my own bed. I wondered how the day had gone. The walls were covered in the lace of late afternoon shadows. Then I heard a sharp wrapping at the door.

I changed the color of my room many times since I arrived 6 months ago. It was so easy with my skills. The walls were currently the color of a creamy avocado dip. I looked at the door, now featuring a dark violet shade, I knew who it was instantly. “I'm not decent,” Laszlo, I hollered.

“Where are those fuzzy sweatpants, girl?” Laszlo's voice replied. “Are you alone, dude?” I called out. I threw my fuzzy sweatpants.They were on the floor. And I brushed through my short pixie cut with my hand and some styling product. “I'm there, I'm coming, dude,” I hollered as I found my way to the door.

Laszlo started tapping on the door in a staccato rhythm. “Christmas is coming, Jod! Hurry up,” He was chanting loudly from behind the door. “The British are coming! The British are coming!” he began hollering, fawning hysterics. I could hear the clicking of his heeled shoes in the hallway. What exactly was he doing? His antics were mixed like a pleasurable social panic with excitement. “Jody!” He called again. I felt his dizzying energies influencing me, suddenly from behind the door.

I pulled my door open suddenly on a lark. I felt giddy, so I greeted Laszlo with a raspberry. Laszlol appeared very serious for one instant. And then he taunted me. “Are you always this silly?” Laszlo said with pretend concern. And then he bursted out in laughter. And I laughed too in the midst of the wild exhilaration of Laszlo’s antics. ”Glad you are feeling a little better,” he declared. I grabbed the crumpled duvet and threw it over my sheets. Then I adjusted the pillows. “Brought you this," he said, handing me my usual sandwich and a mason jar of herbal tea from his messenger bag.

“Thanks,” I said. ”Please. No shoes on the blankets,” I reminded him as he plopped onto the old metal framed bed. I tossed him a periwinkle pillow. “Room service, huh? How do I rate? Must be time to spill the tea,” I said, playing at intrigue.

“Girl, you don't even know,” Lazlo squealed. “What a day for a migraine,” he continued, to the sound of shoes falling to the cold wooden floor. Laszlo slapped at my leg, then he grabbed my Mr. Bear plushie from the pillows, arranging it in a seated position then padding its belly. “So, the good news or the bad news?”

“Good news?” I asked.

“Well, Laszlo,” said with a smirk. “Somebody likes you.” I began to blush and look away.

Then I took a quick breath and shot a look at him. “And who might that be, Sir Lazlo ALot?” I asked. I was trying to apply a fake out trick to the situation, I didn’t know exactly how I felt. Laszlo was digging in his bag again and somehow managed to find a packaged snack kit in the bottom of his bag and then somehow produced another bottle of tea. “Is that thing bottomless?” I asked, chuckling

“Why did you want a sexy makeover, my lovely?” Lazlo said, vivaciously.

“Not today, Lazlo,” I stated. “The last time you did my eyeshadow you took it all the way to level 10. They don't appreciate anything that is too hot for PBSat the cafeteria,” I noted, sadly. We both snickered.

From his small plastic tray from his snack kit Leslie had created a tiny cracker and cheese sammich with the enclosed makings. “Judging from the misdirection you're throwing at me I'd say Jody has a crush on Dr. Chesterfield L. Wren, PhD. Lucky lollipops! Jodi you're so cute when you are crushing on somebody,” Laszlo said, giggling, biting into a Ritz and cheddar cheese snack stack. “Chesterfield was visibly bummed when he heard you wouldn't be there for lunch. And lunch was crazy.” Then Laszlo got his dish on. ”I was very surprised, “ he continued. “I was, like, why? What? I don't think he's looked at a woman who was from Earth in more than 20 years. Then I overheard the tail end of a conversation at lunch, and girl! He was telling the Drac that you are a total fox. And your cheeks are so red right now,” Lazlo laughed again. “Jody's got a crush,” Lazlo teased, in a sing-song voice.

By this time Leslie had found the mini Snickers in the snack kit. I opened the plastic around my sandwich. “Savory garlic hummus with crisp sprouts on sunflower seed bread,” I said, as Laszlo inhaled his Snickers bar. I was overwhelmed at the thought of attempting more misdirection. I finally

just took a bite. “This sandwich is so good…” I finally answered, a bit absently. I feel guilty, I needed to figure out more for myself. I didn't want a public drama. But I liked the guy and the heart wants what it wants.

Laszlo smacked his lips. And then sugary snickers disappeared. He leaned back against the foot rail of the bed, laughing. “That's not the best part,” he spoke with elation. “We had taken Chesterfield, I like to call him Chaz, to a little hole in the wall restaurant in Pyramid City for street tacos. We took along some of the other novices, too. The goofy thing was that Olive was trying to dominate the conversation with Chaz. She was flirting with him, shamelessly,” he concluded. “I’d like to say Olive got game because she was really trying. But it was so obvious how uncomfortable Chaz was getting. She was treating him like he's a rockstar. And he is famous now, but Chaz can’t stand that kind of stuff. Drax finally made an excuse for himself and Chaz and was getting the bill. I think she had been trying to play footsie with Chaz under the table the whole time. Chaz wasn't having any, no sir,” Leslie announced, sippling his tea daintily as he spoke. “Chaz had made his way to the facilities and Olive followed him in. What's up with that?” Laszlo continued, his voice was in full theatrical mode as he spoke. “What in the french fry noodles was up with that girl?” “No way!” I declared.

“Way,” he answered back. “No one really knows what happened in that bathroom. When they came out of the bathroom Chaz was wearing Olive’s jumbo glass of jamaica. And it was a good shirt. Now he is the owner of a bootleg violent films t-shirt from the market. He was pretty upset. She had completely ruined his shirt! And then Olive called you a witch. So Luca called her a jealous stinky cow,” Laszlo reported, giggling.

All I could do was shake my head. “What an insult,” I chuckled. “You know, she tried to do almost the same thing to Vincent, I was right there. I just don't get it,” I said, my voice a little tense.

“Some people are jealous, Jody,” he concluded. “Hugs?” He asked,As I hugged him. I knew Laszlo always had my back.

“Needless to say, there was a heated meeting this afternoon. Chaz will be leading the novices next week. You and Luca will be working with me in the library. Oh, and Olive has a week of KP duty. All is fair in love and war,” he concluded with glee.

I breathed a deep breath. “What goes on behind the barn stays ultimately stays behind the barn, it's what farm folks always say,” I told him with a laugh.

“Yes girl," Laszlo said, sassily. “Last thing,” he stated. “You need to go to the pharmacy tomorrow for some examination. Professor Plato asked me to convey this message,” Laszlo said. Then he pulled the tin box from his jacket pocket and dropped it in my hands. By the way you should be wearing or carrying this on you for at least 12 hours a day, starting now. And always keep it nearby. Inside was a gorgeous ring, “A vial ring!” I said enchanted. It fit my lead finger perfectly. I squealed, picking it out of its box. It was just like the one I'd seen on Sir David Dracos III. It had a labradorite vial about an inch long wrapped with silver and copper twists embellished with a large red garnet. Wow. The fire of the labradorite glowed blue when the lid was opened. “Thanks! This is so neat. To what do I owe this gift?” I queried.

“Well,” Laszlo stated. ”There's an inquiry regarding Vincent and some calls for concern. I realize you haven't seen him yet, but it's really bad. Scary bad. This should provide you with some short-term protection. If you have any more headaches, if you're nauseous, or if you have other physical symptoms take three drops from the vial and get to the infirmary, just as a precaution,” Laszlo told me, reassuringly.

“Alright,” I said, nervously looking at the ring.

My friend looked into my face. “It's going to be okay,” Laszlo continued, as he nudged me with his elbow. “You, Jody, will be fine. You probably won't even need this. The possibility is of you de-evolving like

Vince is remote.Vince got in over his head with the Keepers. And since you were so close with Vince you are prioritized. I was at the meeting, Jodi. And

I saw the body. So I made sure you would have one,” his voice reduced to a near whisper. I knew I looked afraid when Lazlo put his arm around me. “Maybe we could do movies or something? You and me and Luca? I asked. I felt so damn fragile.

“I can see you're afraid. I have plans with Chaz. And I was hoping you would come along. Luca is already on board. Let me see what I can do,” he said in his big brother voice.

“I might not be in the mood to get pretty,” I told him as I pouted. “Well, I might not be in the mood to get pretty either,” Laszlo said with a tiny smile. “We'll keep it chill,” he continued, smiling as we spoke. Then Laszlo popped up from my bed and patted Mr Bear. “I'm off like a prom dress,” he declared, slipping back into those flip flops. He blew me a kiss and disappeared down the hall.

I kicked off my fuzzy sweats. Another shower couldn't hurt. I dressed quickly, wondering what the night before me held. ‘Go go, Team Jodi,’ I cheered to myself beneath my breath.

The actions of my friends had caused Sir David Draco III some problems. So I’d been advised by my family to stay within the catacombs in my suite for at least the day. I was in danger, most certainly. In addition, the circumstances of Laszlo’s death and Chesterfield's abduction had taken a toll on my already overtaxed nervous system. So I dedicated the day to contemplation and selfcare. Moreover, I reworked some of the bio-energetic structure of my body to improve the strength and stability of my aura and to stabilize my abilities. I did this with what I call my inner guidance, some know them as teaching angels. Energetic hygiene is a necessity for beings who practice the metaphysical arts. The regular practice has begun to restore my energy levels. I’m experiencing significant improvements. Additionally, I could breathe a little more easily now because I knew my abilities would work with increased consistency. Then I performed the enhancements on The Trickster’s Constellation Necklace. I knew that every bit of preparation would be a benefit for what lay ahead. And I was wishfully believing today’s activities would enable Chesterfield’s release.

I awoke earlier than usual and sat in my dim sunroom. I wanted to be alone with my thoughts. The cats were nowhere to be found. It appears that they had gone on trash patrol to feed the Manna 6000 food generator in order to trade for their vittles. As the sun caught up with me I breakfasted lightly on fresh fruit and lemon water. I took care of my hygiene needs quickly. I dressed for the changing weather in a chunky knit oversized sweater with leggings and high boots. The final touch was placing the Tricker’s Constellation Necklace around my throat. Afterwards, I sat on my bed visualizing the artifact I was wearing. I was syncing with the unique vibrational frequency, I could feel gentle energies flowing between myself and the relic as we prepared for the work at hand.

I had finished my final prayer when I noticed music coming from Toddi’s bedroom. I knocked on the door, softly. “Come in, cousin my cousin,” Toddi said loudly. As I entered I noticed Toddi. She stood before me in a pink velour sweatsuit ensemble, her red hair flowed and she was as gorgeous as Venus on the half shell.

“Jodi, sit down. I have something to show you,” Toddi announced excitedly. Toddi gave me a rubber dishwashing glove to prevent psychic contamination which could cause unpleasant visions or worse if the item were warded. Then she dropped an object into my gloved hand. I understood right then that Toddi has a heightened sense of psychometry just like I do. A well developed gift which requires personal protection. She chuckled and shook her head. “My dad has a weird knack for finding these. He can copy these artifacts with near perfect accuracy, too,” she told me. “It’s a nod to our family le faye connection,” Toddi reported with a smile.

I took the ring with my gloved hand. I kept a bloodletter’s ring in my personal trove of enchanted relics, but this was a little different. The setting reminded me of an alien astronaut. I carefully observed the stylish details of the ring. Copper sections were carefully formed to encircle a small bone skull. This was visually orbited by three red garnets and a deep red blush natural pearl. As Toddi explained, “ In the culture created by The Keepers of The Pyramid each component represented the status and abilities of the wearer. The bone skull indicates the status of a bone collector , one who collects and utilities sacrificial bone and other types of sacred matter. Silver beads tell us the wearer is a magic user. The three garnets tell us the wearer has advanced medical skills; this indicates the individual is also a third degree bloodletter.” I had a vague idea about the two previous offices, but the red blush pearl stumped me. Toddi explained further, “the pearl represents a seldom seen attribute. This is rare. The owner of this ring performs the rituals of scarification.” I hadn’t realized that this was amongst the rites of The Keepers. It was truly an amazing artifact! At the time this ring seemed quite handy for what we had planned. We had discussed the piece’s other abilities earlier. In the hands of a skilled wearer the ring had the ability to remove and store physical pain for use later, like a magical venom sack. What we didn’t understand is how a wearer of this artifact would be in high demand in an organization whose membership was laden with yellowtime addicts.

The drug yellowtime, also known as ‘Uncle Charlie’ or ‘yellow snow’ had nearly unbearable physical withdrawal symptoms. A scar master ring could pull this pain away from the one inflicted, making anyone possessing such a ring the target of these addicts. The reason this substance is called Uncle Charlie refers to the personality of demonic influence of the drug, the differences mainly consisted of highs and lows experienced while using it. On the streets, it is said that a ride in Uncle Charlie’s car is a trip to hell. But because of its addictive potential this substance is one of the biggest tools of the recruitment for The Keepers of The Pyramid.

With the two rings and a necklace we felt well armed as experienced mages to negotiate the release of my beloved Chesterfield. “David is only numbly empathic at best, '' Toddi continued, “he isn’t able to recognize an enchanted artifact in plain sight.” We both laughed. I handed the ring back to Toddi and then she deposited it in a small silicon pouch and tucked it into her obviously padded push up bra. “Go team,” she said with a grin. Toddi stood wriggling around in her sweatshirt for a moment. At last The Scar Master ring was well hidden.

I felt confident that I could materialize my personal blood letters ring, later if need be. For the time being, I was keeping the artifact hidden in my secret cabinet. The cabinet was kept in a small closet in a separate pocket dimension. It was simple to access, but I was the only one who knew exactly how to find it. Isaac had taken to Rue as a friend, so now our suite wasn't as private as it once was. Isaac, although good-natured, was developmentally delayed .And he was in a phase where he was intrigued with pretty, magical objects. Isaac has the gift of psychokinesis and is on medication, diet, and a strict training regiment to help him regulate his abilities. My auntie and uncle took the boy in 4 years ago, although it was known that his health could be damaged by the gravity flexes and electromagnetic properties of the planet. Isaac was no longer safe in America or Earth for that matter.

So off to planet #664! The challenges Isaac faces were aggravated by the caustic energies of the planet as we had suspected he would be. Human children under the age of 10 cannot be raised here, for fear of seizures, brain damage, or even spontaneous death. Isaac is the youngest human to have set foot on the planet. What's more is that human children can't even be born here, the conditions necessary for early brain development don't exist. But most hybrids thrive here. The reason he was brought here is simple. Isaac's gifts were not under his control. He had been noticed by the American media and was additionally being pursued by those wishing to exploit his abilities. His family was utilizing an underground railway of sorts, hiding Isaac with other gifted friends.Then they got the idea that changed everything. And Isaac was safe for the first time in years on planet # 644. Oh blessed obscurity, right under the nose of the earth's dirtiest CEO, Mr Lard Gein of the Lard corporation. Praise to the Blessed Muse, Karma, Isaac would never be found living under 20 mi from Lard Gien's mysterious complex.