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Carnival World Chapter 58

Less than an hour passed. Both Maleks returned.

Jazz said, “The battle has concluded. We are almost finished with our tasks. Tell your Commander Zales, and Bo the Cyno sheriff, that the leader of this group of monster men was an ancient Hob Goblin Elite. Not the dumb brutes that contemporaneously wander Carnival World. Garoo was one of the highly intelligent ones designed by the original Atlanticeans to fight.” Malek Jazz offered a quick side glance at Mystica, “they were especially designed to battle Nordic Elf Super soldiers, who once fought for The Lord Most High, and His Unique Son.

“The Nordic Super Elves did not join the Dark Angel, who styles himself the Grand Architect of the Multiverse. He is also known as the Dark Commander Prince. Nor did they ally with his symbiotic pawn and host, the ruler of the ancient planet of Rahab, once located in the ancient Earth system called Sol.

“He, the Ancient Elite Hob Goblin, Garoo Gaston, did not wear a master collar. He wore the same collar as the others. Removed from the suspended animation chambers, Garoo had recently resumed his manservant position in service of his fallen angel master. That leader, master of Garoo, was only an officer of the Dark Commander Prince. That leader, still hidden, in a neutral zone, had been punished for his part in Zzzillzzzaga’s Monster Men War of a thousand years hence. That entity, the cosmocratic ruler over Gaston, was, long ago, judged by the Lord Most High. Gaston’s master lost his physical body for a thousand years and has recently regenerated.”

The angel looked toward the center of the temple, then turned back so quickly that few present noticed or made the connection. He continued, “That entity who has the Master Collar, is now in a neutral zone, and unless he leaves that zone, according to the law of the Divine Council, we can only monitor him. As of yet, he, the lieutenant of The Dark Commander Prince, does not remember who he was formerly. But within a century at most, he will. Garoo Gaston, when other Maleks brought him in chains before the throne room of the Divine Council, at the end of the battle, confirmed our suspicions. His master’s wish to reclaim this ancient temple, for the Dark Commander Prince, was more instinct than strategy.”

Jazz paused his discourse.

Jedd continued, his emerald eyes darkening, “Enough fine conversation. Now, onto more important teachings! We ask you not to pray to us. Please do not even meditate or think, too much, about us. We are merely servants of The Lord Most High and Jeshua Jesus. Some of you here call Him Creator and His Son, Jesu or Jeshua Jesu. We were designed to be much more powerful than humans or Cryptids. Not so we can draw your attention away from the Lord Most High, but so that we can be of great and exemplary service in the work of our Master’s Kingdom.

“What we did today…if you are grateful, that is fine. But if you want to think about someone, think of the Lord Most High and His Unique Son, Jesus. While we are ministering servants, we rarely reveal ourselves. In former times, on various planets, there were those of our kind who rebelled. Those foolish ones wanted the praise that only belongs to the Lord Most High, and His Son.

“Also keep in mind,” continued Jedd, “that while Jesus only died for mankind, on Earth, not all of those men are on earth, and may even live in different time zones than where they were born.

“Many races have had the choice of serving the Dark Commander Prince or The Lord Most High. You can’t serve both at the same time, either. The same gospel that is preached to humans can be preached to all creatures as is written in the Book of Mark. Some creatures, for example a Nordic Elf, technically, cannot accept Christ, in the same way as an Earth human. Does that mean the Lord Most High or His Son will ignore them or treat them as second class subjects, if they honor and desire to serve Him? No! The Lord Most High and His Unique Son, are too honest, too fair and too wise. For those who desire to serve Him, who are not Earth Humans, we say they join His Alliance. And if they do, they are just as blessed and protected, as Christian men and women from Earth.

“But beware, dear friends! Not all entities, who are not human, are fallen angels or demons. There are many evil entities, both mundane and supernatural, that exist. And while they are not demons or fallen angels, who are not synonymous, they can be either influenced, or possessed by, and serve the Dark Kingdom in either capacity.

“For example, the wolfmen we fought today. Angels or Maleks call them Hell Hounds. Bard here calls them Jackal Heads. There are many kinds. And the ones here, on Carnival World, are much stronger and heal faster, than the ones who exist on Earth. And of course, on Earth, there are wild Hell Hounds, and cloned or DNA modified, government super soldier ‘dog men.’ They may look alike, but they are as different as dire wolves and golden retrievers.”

Jedd looked at Bard directly again, but then looked away, “There are those on Earth who practice a subclass of witch craft. Those dark shamans, male or female, use bone powders and skin alchemy, to shape-change or create metaphysical toxins. They may look like a Hell Hound, especially in canine form, but technically, they are not. And of course that type of human, depending on the ingredients used, can transform into a wide range of evil creatures. Deermen, bearmen, ottermen, wolfmen, hodags, human dopplegangers – just to name a few. We call them Shamanic Hell Beasts.

“There is another type of creature we call a Realm Jumper. They are an energy form entity that transforms either into an eight foot tall werewolf or vampire of like stature. While they may look like a Hell Hound or a Vampire, they are neither. Yes, there are many varieties of creatures that may be loosely called Hell Hounds and even more kinds of other dark creatures. Beware of them.

“And Lycanthropic Hell Hounds are a completely different kettle of fish.” He chuckled, “Of course they are not fish. I enjoy playing with words as much as Orlando Bard.

“Very few Lycanthropic Hell Hounds reside on Carnival World. More, also called werewolves, reside on Earth. The Dog Men who attacked you today were not werewolves. Although, theoretically, any beast, human, humanoid, or fauna variety, could become a Lycanthropic Hell Beast. A Lycanthropic beast form is usually the result of a blood ritual or a curse and the entity thus turned has little control over their urges. A Shamanic Beast form is usually spiritually or alchemically induced, temporary and controlled change, where the urges and abilities of the practitioner’s evil, augmented by dark spirits, are enhanced to increase their ability to practice that evil.

Jazz interjected, “And of course, there are minor Hell Hounds. Smaller Hyena or Wolf or dog creatures, who are rarely bipedal, and come in natural and supernatural forms. Here, and on Earth, there are, for example, Chupacabra creatures.

Big J, Jorge and Gomez anxiously performed the sign of the cross.

Jazz continued, “The real Chupacabras are reptilian in nature. Many people call a minor hairless Hell Hound a Chupacabra or a Blue Dog. Technically, the canine variety is a minor Hell Hound, but so many people have conflated the two species, that either name works, after a fashion, in general Cryptid discussions.”

Malek Jedd commandeered the discussion once more, “More importantly and switching subjects. Most of you will never see us again. And once again, we beg you, do not pray to us, or dwell in your thoughts on us. If you want to pray, or meditate on someone, please do so, to The Lord Most High and His Son. Love and honor past and present saints – mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, family and friends. But only worship the Lord Most High and His Son.

Rest, now, friends, and prepare for the arrival of Commander Zales. Bo and the Cyno Sheriffs will also arrive within the hour. We promise that you will be safe. There will be no further Hell Hound or Sabe attacks. Most of them are dead, but a few, who were controlled by their collars and were resisting attacking you, we have removed them to a different place where they will be safe. Malek Jazz has one final task, which will take at least several minutes. After that, when we vanish, rest up, warm under your woolen blankets, drink hot fluids, and wait for Zales. You will be safe. We make that promise to each of you, who is both present and visible to the others.

Malek Jedd continued, “Oh, by the way, Miss Daphne Kimble. The collars you will examine for Commander Zales have two features. They control the wearer, but they also remove fear. Even though most of you were incapacitated, a natural fear response, modified by your devotion to The Lord Most High, the monster men of today’s battle were hardly affected by our awe aura. The Hell Hounds Majorus and Sabe should have been, at least slowed, by our awe aura, just as much as you were. They were not.

Jazz added, “And now, for our final task of the adventure. Yes friends, as Orlando Bard says, ‘Let the adventure begin!’”

Bard stopped drinking his coffee and looked up, at the Malek, as he heard his name.

Carnival World Chapter 59

Malek Jazz smiled warmly and walked over to Mystica. He knelt, on one knee, beside her. His demeanor was not worshipful, but the angel did not wish to tower over her, and hoped to diminish his powerful, intimidating presence. Jazz had purposely dimmed his awe aura to the extent that it was possible. Then he dropped his other knee, and sat leaning back, long legs tucked beneath him.

Mystica was sitting up, on the sleeping pad, legs splayed in front of her, covered up to her narrow, wedge pointed chin, by the purple woolen blanket. She was still shaking, but not uncontrollably, and felt physically weak. Calmly and gently Malek Jazz offered, “My apologies, Princess Mystica Knorn, for your discomfort. I promised two people who care for you, very deeply, their blessing and a physical gift, for you.”

Mystica frowned at the angel, then looked away. “Uhhm. One! Are you talking about my parents? They’re dead!”

Jazz gently disagreed, “No Mystica. They are not dead. Physically, you are correct. They no longer live here on Carnival World. However, they are very much alive in the heavenly realms. They love you very much, and talk about you and pray for your well-being, each and every day.”

One lone tear rolled down Mystica’s cheek, “Uhhm. One!” up came her pointer finger. She tried to stare into the angel’s eyes. Mystica was overwhelmed by his feelings of brotherly love for her, which emanated from his glowing lavender eyes. That compassionate warmth and the mere power of his presence, easily overcame the princess’s normally obdurate will. She quickly looked away. She continued, somewhat less angrily, “Where were you the night my parents died?” She paused briefly confused, then continued, “Where were you, Malek Jazz, when the Dark Atlanticean and Naga Assassins attacked me, and killed my parents, and their Atlanticean friend, Scholar Zazazi? They almost killed me. If it weren’t for the Bard and Lady Q, I would be dead, too!”

Bardand Padre, turned to each other, mouths wide open, but neither said a word. They had remembered Mystica’s heated insistence that she had not seen any Dark Naga or Dark Atlanticean Assassins that night. She remembered watching helplessly as a vampire named Scholar Zazazi ripped her parents throats and drank their blood. It had been a false memory planted by minor snake gods who served The-One-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Spoken-of: Fallen Angel Ameruca, Master of Garoo Gaston.

Both Bard and Padre wanted to speak, but neither had the will or unction.

Malek Jazz sighed, “Dearest princess, ‘One’” and he lifted a long strong finger, “It was their time, and even though they knew they would miss you, they wanted to go to their new home. Their heavenly home.” He paused, “And, princess, as you never say, ‘two,’, but I am sharing a secondary point, both Malek Jedd and I were on another mission, just like we are now, to another world, called PXE749559 or Planet Corstevah.

“It is another planet, just like this one. The rules are different there, but it looks much the same. Not in the shape and placement of the continents, but in environments. You would like the fact that fermentation is very difficult there, so you can’t make alcoholic beverages. On the other hand, some desserts that need yeast to prepare, are difficult to make, there, on Corstevah, unless you have an advanced technology food replicator.”

“Uhhm,” asked Mystica, “Who did you rescue?”

Jazz replied, “A team like yours. There are Star Portals there,” and he looked briefly at Bard, then back to Mystica, “very primitive ones. They were destroyed during an ancient comet shower. But when there is a solar flare, or a planetary magnetic shield shift, the cone circles capture small groups of people and animals, from the planet Bruce and Maria are from, Earth.

“Creator and His Unique Son sent an old Spanish Knight, fleeing scores of elite human Earth assassins, on a continent called Europe. The Lord Most High also sent an Italian scholar, defrocked and imprisoned, from a different Earth time-line, from a place called the Vatican. The Lord Most High trained and gifted them, with assistance from both present Maleks, to help them rescue people who became stranded on planet Corstevah.

Once we trained them in though, we rarely saw them again. However, their group – several native Americans from earth and a Mounted policeman from Earth’s Canada, found themselves in a serious pickle. Not the same kind of incident as that of this afternoon, but just as calamitous as what happened to your group.

Jazz chuckled, “They have a Padre, too. But he is not a little Dwarf Cleric.” Jazz turned his golden glowing face away from Mystica, and grinned at Padre, “It would take about two and a half of you, Padre of the White Dwarf Clan, Grandson of the Highly Favored One, to make a Padre Nombre De Dios! That Padre, once a Templar Knight, is six feet and five inches tall. About fifteen pounds heavier than Ghordo,” he paused and gestured dramatically at the comatose Half-Orc, “and that extra weight, all in his belly. Even though his name is not really Padre, that is the what most people call him. He was, and is, the official leader of that group.

“Zales does not know the Alphanumeric sequence that opens the gate to the hidden underground Star Portal on Planet Corstevah. Nor has Padre Nombre’s team found any of the advanced Technology Star Portals. Mostly they have the ancient primitive cone portals. They do have a few subterranean Star Portal Circles like the ones you have on this planet, but without the Cyclopean Walled Fortifications. As of yet, the Advanced Star Portals remain undiscovered.

“So there are no American Special Forces Rangers there, like Rangers Kai and Schmitt, but” and Jazz looked quickly at Bard, then back at Mystica. “A newly formed group of Cryptid Earth Rangers, Cryptid Team Six, and four dolphins, get captured by a portal storm, and will soon join Padre Nombre and his team. But it will be impossible for them to contact Earth.”

“Uhhm. Basically,” asked Mystica doubtfully, “Do you even know, Jazz, what my parents look like?”

Malek Jazz replied gently, “You do not have your mother’s eyes or your father’s eyes. You have your great grandfather’s eyes. New Penny Eyes, as very strangely,” the angel smiled with only one corner of his mouth, his lavender eyes twinkling, “Orlando Bard has used that specific descriptor while entertaining guests at his inn.

“You have your father’s build, Mystica. Faerune, of course, as such probabilities tend, being male, it is only natural that your height will not surpass his. You still have a few years of growing yet and you will surpass six feet in height, one day, but not by much. You will, Mystica, gain your secret wish, to be taller than Anya Quijada, (kee-hah-dah) the lady Barbarian, who is on the wait staff of The Adventurer’s Inn.

“You have Latraya’s face. And although your grammar and patterns of speech are sometimes embarrassing to your mother, your level of intelligence is not much less than hers.

“For example, little princess, you hated standard class work, but devoured books from the royal library about mythical creatures and loved the illustrated encyclopedias of Carnival World’s plants and animals.

“You recently burned your Elf General School Diploma. Yet you keep your Elf Royal Ranger School Diploma prominently displayed in whatever weekly room you rent at Bard’s Inn.

“And of course, Princess Mystica, you excelled at the Elf Royal Ranger School. You were a prodigy, in your teachers estimation, as a probationary woodland warrior. Yes, just like your famous grandfather, King Zander Aviel Knorn, had been, when he had been a young prince, your age, in the same academy.”

Mystica fought bravely, but a tear rolled down her face. Hand quivering, she quickly brushed the embarrassing water droplet away.

“I know, Mystica,” chuckled Jazz, “You are not crying. You are just angry.”

“Uhhm. Basically. One!” snapped Mystica, “Yeah. Yous. You are correct.” She frowned, then said, “Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Uhhm.” Following a pause she asked, “Didn’t you say, Jazz, that you had a message or gift uhh for me from them?”

“Yes, Princess Mystica. I have a message and a gift. You have a long life ahead of you, and many adventures, and your parents will expect one of us Maleks to keep them informed on every one of them. They insist on having their own Bard Show about you and your friends, Mystica! They are hoping that one day you will make the Alliance with Creator and His Son.”

Mystica frowned but did not interrupt Jazz.

“And I am going to be straight with you. Most pointedly, Mystica, I am not going to smother you in ‘Christianese’ and religious jargon. Because of your parents prayers and the prayers of some of your friends, like Bard and Anselm and Padre the Dwarf Cleric, you have a certain amount of protection and divine favor. Indeed, this is true, even though you have not made that alliance, with Creator and His Unique Son.

“No matter what your decision, in the future, Mystica Knorn, you will still benefit from some divine protection and assistance in your life. Although it seems, understandably, unfair to you, it is the only key, in an unpickable lock, that will grant you access to the eternal realm of your parents. Family is extremely important to the Lord Most High and His Son. Either way, Faerune and Latraya are still going to love you, no matter what you eventually decide. However, they are hoping that one day, you will do what is necessary, to live with them.”

Mystica frowned again, “Uhhm. What is the gift? I don’t see one.”

Jazz chuckled, “Do you remember the day, Mystica, when you were still a toddler, but too big for your crib? Back in the days when they called you ‘Princess Rain in Her Pants? Your parents had commissioned a small bed, crafted by the best High Elf artisans, and replaced the crib, in your room. Your room had been located in a chamber attached to both Faerune and Latraya’s rooms.

“Like many High Elf royals, they had what is called a Nobility Marriage. Even though they were married, except by appointment, each had their own bedroom suite. That same day, that they replaced your crib, with a new child’s bed, they gave you a special purple sippy cup.”

Mystica’s face hardened. Stunned, she snapped,“Uhhm. Basically. One!” Up came the pointer finger. “Why would they give me, uhhm, now, a sippy cup? That makes basically uhhm no sense!”

Malek Jazz chuckled, “Well, princess, it is not the exact sippy cup. Both Faerune and Latraya requested certain modifications to its design. And they wrote a message on the cup and put a heart symbol on it, which seems to be a universal symbol, on many worlds, that means love. It’s more the memories associated with that cup that they treasure.”

“Uhm. One! What modifications?” asked Mystica, curious, yet still annoyed.

“First, your father, Faerune said, ‘I know my stubborn little princess. The first thing she will do is toss it off the edge of the of rim of that butte!’” He added, “And then Latraya followed with her own comment, that if that didn’t work, you would give it away or drop it down the portable outhouse hole.”

Mystica asked, “Why wouldn’t that work? Uhhm. Basically. I am thinking about that.”

Jazz, with a dramatic flourish, lifted his hand like a stage magician. The purple sippy cup appeared beside her. Mystica tried lifting it up to throw it. She had succeeded in lifting the cup. However, Mystica’s diminished strength could not throw the item far enough across the temple floor, to sail over the edge of the butte. And she knew it. Mystica gently placed the purple sippy cup back onto the gray temple floor. She started to shake again, but not as violently as she had earlier.

To everyone’s shock, Jazz smiled warmly and offered, “Let me help you with that little princess,” as he leaned forward and picked up the purple sippy cup. Jazz continued, “There’s a famous baseball player, little princess, from Earth who has the world speed record in Major League Baseball. Aroldis Chapman. Cincinnati Reds. He threw a one hundred and five, point eight miles per hour fastball, in 2010, while playing against the San Diego Padres. If you want more info on that, Mystica, ask Ranger Kai when he feels better. Or Bard can show you the entry in the sports almanac in his library. Anyway, Mystica,” he picked up the purple sippy cup and threw it. “I can beat that record, by so much that it would be embarrassing to tell you the statistical specifics.”

Mystica wasn’t the only person who stared, not believing their eyes, as the purple sippy cup spun like a comet and sailed into the distant sky, so fast it almost caught fire.

But not much more than a minute later, with a clink, it appeared beside her on the temple tiles. She wasn’t the only one who stared, mouth agape, at the reappearing purple sippy cup.

Jazz smiled and continued, “This cup is bigger. You are all grown up now. Chocolate that will fill a toddler’s tummy, just isn’t enough for a young adult, Mystica.

“Faerune asked that it would always return to you. Your mother was afraid you would never clean it, so they required that it would always be clean and sanitized.

“Now, as far as what is inside of it…” said Jazz, with a practiced flip of his curly, golden, shoulder length, lion’s mane hair.

“Uhhm. What is in it? Probably hot chocolate. My parents often filled the sippy cup with it and then read me a bed time story or sang me a song.”

“Your assumption is correct, little princess. When it is not holding cold air it is holding hot chocolate. And this is how you operate your new, bigger, unbreakable, never can lose it, purple sippy cup! You hold it in both hands, just like you did when you were a little girl. Up to six times in a twenty four hour period, if you hold it, and it may even appear in your hands, it will fill to the brim with the sweetest, richest, hot, but not too hot, hot chocolate, that you have ever tasted. Unless of course you say, “Cold, cold, cold. Then it will be cool, creamy, chocolate milk.” Jazz paused then asked gently, bending forward, from his, tucked knees sitting position, “Would you like to try it, Princess Mystica?”

Mystica frowned, but then said, “The Divine Thieves…”

There was a horrified grumble from Anselm and a grumpy snort from Padre. Big J did an anxious ‘sign of the cross’.

Mystica corrected herself, “I, uhhm, for the life of me, will, basically, never understand The Guy Upstairs, uhhm, Creator and His Son. But I have to say, most of his servants, as she looked over at Bard, Padre and Anselm, they can be uhmm really aggravating. But, uhhm, basically, like you, Jazz, they can be super nice to me. And I know they care about me and uhhm basically want good things for me.”

Mystica sniffed the square opening of the purple sippy cup. “Smells good. Uhhm. Really good.” She wrinkled her nose like a bunny, then sipped it, “This is, uhhm, the best hot chocolate I have ever tasted!”

“Did you read the message on the cup?” asked Jazz. “It is on the other side.”

Mystica quickly drank another hot, but not too hot, sip. She slowly turned the purple sippy cup and read the golden message. “We love you Mystica.” That phrase was followed by a red heart icon and black musical notes. Then she read the next message fragment, “When the morning comes, we will be right here, waiting for you.”

Jazz sang the song, her parents song, but with a new ending. “When morning comes” became “when your final morning dawns.” The second to last line was modified to “in the Beautiful Lands.”

Jazz sang Mystica’s newly modified song, “When the morning comes, we’ll be right here waiting for you. Don’t you worry, little High Elf princess, when you wake up, from your sleepy-time dreams, we’ll be right here waiting for you. Yes, sweet little Mystica, when your final morning dawns, we’ll be right here waiting for you. We’ll be right here in the Beautiful Lands, waiting, waiting, waiting for you. Waiting, waiting, waiting for you.”

Following the song, both Maleks, Jazzaziel and Jeddiduqah vanished. They often visited Mystica and her friends, in the following days, years, decades and centuries, but quietly, in angelic invisibility mode.

Carnival World Chapter 60

Ranger Kai, following a jittery sip of coffee, exclaimed, but barely above a whisper, “Hoorah!”

Ranger Schmitt echoed with a barely audible, “Hoorah!”

“Wow!” exclaimed Bard. “That was definitely an Ephesians 6:12 moment!”

“You can say that backwards,” offered Ranger Kai with a smile. His hands trembling he drank another swig of hot black coffee. “At least the palindrome part.”

Gomez, avoiding Ghordo, snapped several more still photos. He launched out with a quick jumble of Spanish.

Big J said, “Gomez asked what Kai said. I can tell him, Anselm, if you are too busy.”

Anselm replied, “Gracias, Big J. I, amigo, am well able to ride a bike and eat an ice cream cone at the same time! I will continue to interpret for him and Jorge.”

Padre and Anselm, one with the tea pot, and the other with the coffee pot, made their rounds refilling cups. Kai dug in his pockets until he found the packets of cream and sugar that he had traded, earlier, with Ghordo, and trembling, liberally poured the contents into his coffee and stirred them with a pen from his combat vest.

Big J said, “Amigos, I regret signing my NDA! I can’t sign into chat, when I get back and tell the group at Paranormal Round Table, about what just happened! My wife Carmen and I go on that show every week! My wife, she’s a feisty little Chihuahua, amigos! She says Josh knows more about Cryptids, and spiritual secrets, than Hagrid of Hogwarts! Anyone else watch that show, ‘Paranormal Round Table’ or Jeff Nadolny’s ‘Dogman and Paranormal Research pod cast?”

Bard responded, “Bishop St. Patrick sends videos from both of those sources. He sends them to me frequently. About once per month. There will be several teachings or videos on that U.S.B. Steve Quayle, Stan Deyo, William J. Schnoebelen, Chuck Missler, Timothy Alberino, L. A. Marzulli, Chief Joseph Riverwind, along with materials from Giza Death Star and Dark Journalist podcast episodes. Just to name a few. I view the materials on my office computer. He sent a really neat episode from that guy who does shows with Tony Merkel’s Confessionals pod casts, just the other day. Joel Thomas, in his ‘Good Nephilim’, episodes nineteen and twenty, of his ‘Free the Rabbits’ pod cast, talks about good ones.

“Patrick says that most Christians will tell you that there is no such thing as a good Nephilim. I agree with his opinion. You can see that even from the end of the road! You are going to meet some good Nephilim shortly. Cyno Sheriff Bo is an example of a good Nephilim. Although technically, they don’t have giant or fallen angel blood in them, unless there were trace amounts in the original dog men lab specimens. The Atlanticean scientists designed a dog man that was to be a faithful, loyal and compassionate man-beast, and a polyglot with a photographic memory, that would be a cross between an Earth Sheriff and an Earth Park Ranger. For reasons we do not understand, most of them possessed an innate desire to serve Creator. Good Nephilim, they may be rare, but it is possible. Joel Thomas, backing it up with scripture and historical examples, lays out a good case for the concept.

“Anybody ever hear of Merkel or Thomas?” asked Bard. Most of those present gave him blank expressions.

“Who are they again, amigo?” asked Big J.

Bard gave the information once again, then said, “Wait until we get back, Big J. I’ll get the information and print it out for you.”

“Gracias, amigo,” replied Big J.

Orlando added, “Yes, folks, Patrick sends me digital documents from many paranormal researchers. Many such items come from a Christian News show on Earth called Skywatch News. There’s a guy who appears on their shows quite often named Steve Quayle. I have most of his books in my library. Patrick talked me into buying a set, including his two Giants books, Little People, and Empire Under the Ice. Great books. Anybody here recognize that name?”

Anselm, paused after refilling Maria’s tea. “Yes, Orlando Bard, Patrick offered a seminar to his cleric’s several months ago, featuring entries from Quayle’s books. He showed us video clips, as well, concerning giants and other fringe topics, presented from a researched Christian perspective.”

“How about you, Big J?” Big J choked on his coffee. “Sorry, amigo. I think I have heard of him.”

Bard noticed his reluctance but decided not to pry. He added, “I’ll put the Steve Quayle info on that reading list I will make for you.”

Big J coughed and sputtered, then replied. “Gracias, amigo. That would be fine. Just add the info for…that Bible teacher… to the list.”

Padre exclaimed, “Aye ken my grandfather, Aynoch, had an adventure with those two angels. They escorted my grandfather around Carnival World to speak to several kings, nobles or chiefs in scattered cities and villages. Aye, aye ken those two, all-right! Grandfather Aynoch’s journey with those two Maleks is a Carnival World legend! I heard aboot their fighting ability, lads and lassies! My grandfather’s stories seemed oot the windae!”

Bard nodded in agreement, then asked, “Ranger Schmitty, did you see that Malek Jedd did the Assassin’s Creed Odyssey Spartan’s kick. Twice! Almost over top of you!”

Maria Orsic Schmitt turned white, but she smiled. “I seen it Bard! I seen it!” No daisy-link cussing. Nothing. Nada. Zip. She added, after sipping her tea, “And the other one. That Jazz Malek. I seen him do the Assassin’s Creed Odyssey Bull Rush attack with his shield several times.” Once again, no cussing. Nothing. Nada. Zip.

Bard asked, “Mystica! How is that, soon to be famous, purple sippy cup?”

“Uhhm. Basically. One!” up went her pointer finger. “It is fantastic! And it tastes great!”

“I had a Pentecostal grandmother,” exclaimed Kai. “That Jazz read your mail, Elf girl! We have something in common Mystica. That Pentecostal grandma got everyone calling me Chief Rain in His Pants! I will have to rethink the wild stories my grandmother told me after what happened today.”

Bard forcefully stopped himself from chiming in as well, that his toddler nickname from his Hayward, Wisconsin, maternal First Nations grandmother had been “Chief Rain in His Pants.”

Mystica looked confused.

Bard interjected, “‘Read your mail’ is Pentecostal jargon for what he, the Malek, Jazz, told you about several things that happened to you. Events in your life, or secret thoughts, life that only an angel, communicating with the Holy Spirit, or someone using a gift of knowledge could know.”

“Uhhm. About that. Basically. One!” Mystica fumbled for words, “I liked it and I didn’t like it. Uhhm. It uhhm really caught me by surprise.”

Anselm laughed, “Yes, I have heard that phrase before. ‘Read your mail.’ Charismatic Christians say it a lot, too. Can be really awkward to have your secrets revealed, Senorita Mystica, ‘in front of God and everyone’ as the old saying goes.”

Mystica nodded and smiled, then gave Anselm the Royal Knorn victory salute.

Padre said, “Talking aboot jargon, did you here that Malek Jazz use the word Christianese? I did not ken that word, except that Earth writer lady made it up for her book, and it is nae in any dictionary! Do ya remember Anselm, last month, Bishop Patrick did that Soft Evangelism and Cindy McGill seminar? It is an Earth book, I grant ya, but it made sense.”

Bard added, “I didn’t attend the seminar, but Patrick summed it up, in my inn over ale, one afternoon. I probably should define Christianese. I am not sure which dictionary you used, Padre. I have seen definitions of the word. It means that Christians often use buzzwords, idioms, vocabulary, and expressions, when sharing their religious faith. Some of those words, especially here on Carnival World, make little sense. The other failure, is that others hear the words and associate them with obnoxious people pestering them. Rather than influencing them to consider Creator, they react to what they feel are manipulation and control tactics. With those people, rather than draw them closer to Jesu, they are driven away.”

Big J nodded, “That make sense, amigo.”

Anselm added, “I remember Bishop Patrick, amigos, quoting from her book, I can quote it but, por favor, perdoname, it may just be a close paraphrase. She said, “Approaching people with ‘Christianese’ nowadays is like trying to speak English to a Frenchman. Not only will people not understand what you are trying to say, but they may get angry because your words sound rude in their ears.”

“What was that other phrase about being friends that St. Patrick was talking aboot, Brother Anselm?” asked Padre.

“Gracias,” replied Anselm. “Thank you for bringing up that point. The lady author, if I remember, didn’t use that phrase. Bishop Patrick did. He said that using Friendship Evangelism and Soft Evangelism is a gentler approach than fire and brimstone or superior to vacuum salesman conversion techniques.” He added, “Give me a moment to interpret those terms and this conversation for Jorge and Gomez.”

Following a pause, Bard offered, “I don’t know if Patrick used this word picture in the seminar. He did refer to it, the Bird Parable, during our lunch, just before his meeting.

“Patrick said that as much as Jesu quoted scripture, he used terms and stories suited to his audience. Often he couched teachings in vocabulary common to farming or gardening, for example, appropriate to his time.

“Of course he mentioned, with the context of sharing faith, keeping things simple. Using John 3:16 or, he suggested having the curious read the Book of John. Patrick also mentioned Romans Chapters three and ten, and John Chapter ten. And of course, repentance, faith, and allowing Jesu, through His Holy Spirit, to change your ways, is all part of the show, whether you are talking Earth Humans or Carnival World Elves, Barbarians or Orcs!”

Bard paused as Anselm quoted important sections of each mentioned chapter, in English and in Spanish.

Padre smiled, “I ken ya, Laddie. Ya are aboot to tell Bishop Patrick’s ‘Modern Mother Bird Parable.’”

Bard grinned, “You saw it from the end of the road, Padre! I am only going to provide the short version for now. If a mother bird is feeding her chicks and they are hungry, what do you see?”

Padre replied, “The wee beastie’s beaks are open.”

Bard nodded, “Yes, their mouths are open and the birdies are hungry, so…?”

Big J replied, “They eat the worm, amigo!”

Bard nodded in the affirmative, “Right you are Big J! And,” he added, “what happens when the baby birds aren’t hungry?”

“The wee beastie’s beaks are closed and the mother bird’s worm hits their beak and breaks. The worm prolly drops into the bottom o’ the nest and is wasted,” replied Padre. The Dwarf Cleric chuckled and added, “Aye was surprised that Bishop Patrick used a different phrase than wasted!”

Big J said, “Reminds me of a gringo teacher I had when I was a boy in New Mexico, amigos. He was our audio-video teacher. I learned the skills. I aced his class. Then I volunteered in the audio-visual lab as a student assistant for my three remaining years in high school.

“However, this guy spit out Bible verses like he was a machine gun. Every day. I think in the four years I was working in the audio visual lab, before going onto college, maybe he got one young girl to go to his church. And her parents moved her to a different church, just to get away from my audio-visual teacher. The parents became saved in the process, but at another church.

“I prayed to the Jesus Christo, that I wanted to be a Christian. I wanted to have a personal relationship. I did not want to be hard and religious. I wanted to grow more and more like Jesus Christo. What I did not want to do, was spit out Bible verses at people and drive them away, amigos. I tried to explain to my teacher how I felt, but he just became angry. He said that the way he evangelized was the only proper method, and that I did not understand, because I was listening to diablos!

“He quoted Isaiah 55:11 to me. That is a great verse, amigos, but I think, at that moment, he was using it to justify his error. He was saying it, and the Lord was not. Did it return void for my teacher? Or did it not return void? I am unsure, amigos.”

Bard nodded, “We all need to be careful of using scripture for bad reasons. Or demanding the letter of the law and ignoring the spirit of the law. But your testimony, Big J, perfectly illustrates what Patrick hoped to convey with his ‘Friendship Evangelism /Words That Work Seminar’. ” Padre, Anselm and Big J nodded in agreement. Many of the others remained quiet, not wanting to get involved in the conversation.

Just then a buzzing and scraping sound caught everyone’s attention. Not too far south of the lime-green porta-potty, a section of the temple floor began to rise.”