The Humans are confused.
This is their normal state of being. Their lives are so short, they never have time to think things through. I know this is a gross over-simplification, that there have been many brilliant Human scholars throughout the ages. Even the Da Vincis and the Einsteins, while brilliant enough to see a glimpse of the larger pattern, and imaginative enough to visualize a complex and interconnected world, still did not have the time to analyze their own thoughts. It takes years, sometimes hundreds of years, to get the correct perspective on ideas, even your own ideas. Humans just do not have the luxury of that time. They are also limited by their devout belief in not believing. Since the earliest recorded Human history they have had stories of magic, great unexplained ancient civilizations, and other mysteries. The Humans chose not to believe these and thus, when the mother returned the magic to us, they became disoriented and confused, their normal state of being.
In all fairness, I must admit that most of humanity was not very advanced when the great mother took the magic away the last time, so it must be hard for them to deal with its return. What I am about to tell you must remain an elven secret. I know that the Humans will eventually discover it, but it should be delayed as long as possible.
All things that the great mother gives us, she also takes away. Nature, as the Humans call it, moves in cycles: the rising and setting of the sun, the seasons of the year, the flowing of the tide, it is always a cycle. Magic also runs in a cycle, it comes and goes from the earth, as does the warmth of the summer sun. Its cycle is measured not in hours, as the sun's is, but in thousands of years.
From a scientific viewpoint, magic, when charted, is a semi-regular wave form moving through the history of the earth. There are slight fluctuations throughout the wave, and the wave itself is not completely uniform.
The point in the cycle at which the world becomes magically alive or magic falls dormant is called the Threshold Level. Every magical race and, in some cases, each individual within a race, has its own specific magical trigger point for metamorphosis to occur, thus the transformation of the world takes place over a period of time. Traditionally, the Threshold Level has been set as the date of the awakening of the first Great Dragon on the upswing and the hibernation of the last Great Dragon on the down swing. The average time between Threshold Levels is approximately 5,200 years.
As the last age of magic came to a close, Atlantis was readying itself for disaster. The isle of Atlantis was protected from the forces of nature by the magic of its inhabitants, and thus it could not exist after the magic dropped below the Threshold Level. The Atlantian culture was a racial hybrid that had achieved both scientific and magical wonders, but in its later years, it turned against itself by fighting nature to maintain the island. As the end came near, a migration of technology and culture spread from the isle to the rest of the world. This is the reason mankind's ancient calendars all start within 100 years of each other. The Hebrew, Egyptian, Chinese, and most importantly, Mayan calendars all show the direct influence of Atlantian culture.
The Mayan calendar is the most amazing, as it contains a complete description of the magic cycles, including this current crossing of the Threshold. The Mayan calendar was created in the year 3372 BC (using the Christian calendar), just at the end of the last cycle. The Mayans described the cycles as "worlds", and stated that only certain life forms made the transition from one world to the next. The calendar, written over 5,000 years ago, predicted the exact day the Threshold Level would be passed. If we convert the Mayan dates to the current Christian calendar, it correctly states that the Threshold would be passed on December 24, 2011. On that day, the first Great Dragon was seen in Japan. The precision is amazing.
Atlantis sank on August 12, 3113 BC, thus marking the end of the Fourth World and the beginning of the Fifth. The Sixth World began on December 12, 2011 AD, and will end, according to the Mayan calendar, on April 4, 7137 AD.
We have the intervening time to enjoy what the Great Mother gives us and to use responsibly the double-edged sword of technology that our Human cousins have created. We must use both the energy of nature and the power of technology to try to fix the damage done by our short-lived relatives.
REX TREMENDAE
By Tom Dowd, transcription by Ken Web
The line outside Dante's Inferno was long, mean, and peopled with some of the most alien types I'd ever seen. I been to Seattle before, even to this very club, but the sights never failed to astonish. Sure, I understand dressing for style, for effect, but physical extremism repels me. Home, we run the shadows as hard as any, and our colors show it. We wear clothes that suit us, that make our work and lives easier, simpler. Every policlub has its own look, its special expression, but none of us would consider overt physical mutilation as a symbol of superiority.
Here in America, especially in this town, it seems you're nobody unless you can get people to notice you walking down the street. Yet for me, whose life is the streets anywhere in the world, to be noticed on those streets is almost certain death.
How little subtlety exists here. I pass this line of people, all waiting to get into the same place at the same time, knowing full well they're not wanted here. Perhaps they think waiting in line for all the world to see is as good as actually dancing on the glass floors of the Inferno. In Europe, we would simply find another club rather than play the fool by standing in line.
Reaching the door, I stifled a laugh. Dwarfed by the huge size of the doorbeing, a girl in black and red was trying to talk her way past the Troll. Unlike me, she wasn't known, so she wouldn't get in. Giving the troll a nod, I brushed past, and the gander-girl cursed me for it. The way she mangled City-Speak was startling enough to make me turn and look at her. She was shorter than I, but jacked up by a pair of razor-spike boots. Her long hair, its color moving from iridescent blue to white to black and back again, framed her face. A true looker, by any standards, if you ignored the hot, quick death in her eyes. She glared at me, waiting for an equally venomous response, but I held back. Far too much was at stake tonight.
I gave her the dead-face and was about to turn and be gone when she surprised me by cursing again, this time perfectly. I smiled in amusement. Her first curse had been sudden, impulsive, and fractured. The second was perfect, even down to the cross-talk inflection. She was chip-trained, no question, but trained only. If she had been wearing, her first shot would have come out like a veteran's.
I couldn't help but smile even more broadly as I looked her over more closely. The apparel was right: all the proper straps and chains tight or loose as the fashion demanded. Quad-colored earrings danced slowly on her ears, glittering in the lights of the street. Her corneal tint was near- phosphorescent, designed to pull your eyes to hers even in the darkest shag- joint. She was absolutely perfect, the ultimate gander-girl, and therein lay her failure to pull it off. But that was what intrigued me.
I weighed my options, her paradox versus my purpose tonight, and decided to take the risk. I nodded again at the troll and spoke just loud enough for him to hear, "Say, friend, she's with me."
The girl apparently heard me, and started slightly at my words, I motioned for her to take the lead. She glanced once at the Troll, but turned just as quickly away from his sudden, feral grin. As she stepped forward, I guided her with the gentle pressure of my fingertips at the small of her back. Once again, she gave herself away. Her jacket was real denim, not the cheap synthetic that a "real" gander-girl would wear.
We continued on into the uppermost level of Inferno. Though I hated the place, I always found myself becoming a semi-regular out of sheer habit whenever I was in town. I'd first met Dante in London, where I'd done a run for him involving his London club. Now he always made sure I got first class treatment, no doubt because the story of our dealings would leave him cut into little pieces if it ever leaked out. EBM[2] never forgets.