Imagine with me, imagine that you are a spy or some sort of a peeping-tom, and you can see them there in the conference room. Imagine that just like the Cekko people, just like them you’ve got the power, the special powers and the ability to go on for long periods of time without sleeping, or eating, or doing anything else. And that you could still be able to function at your peak, and stay focused and alert.
And there you are, like, like at a vantage point where you are hanging out suspended somewhere outside of the meeting room probably, just out of sight, and also out of their knowledge of you being there.
But you are nonetheless there, eavesdropping on the meeting. Listening in on the conversation. Look, look at the king, there he is, sitting on the throne, he is a little bit slumped in his posture today, not his usual majestic self. He is even biting his nails, or more like, pretending not to be. He is obviously more than a bit troubled.
Everybody who is anybody in the hierarchy of the kingdom is there, sitting in their respective places in a semicircle at the conference table, facing the king. Everybody including the chief ranger, Smokey is there, and a few of his most promising prospects,
Shadow is there for sure, and the young trainee named, Beahon, and the girls, ONE, Onella, Noella, and Estella, they are there too. It would be interesting to hear what they are talking about, what’s on the menu for discussion today? Now your curiosity is getting the better of you, so you are inching closer.
There is a crack in the window pane, you’ve noticed it for sure. You are now edging your way nimbly along the ledge just outside the window on the same floor as the conference room.
Because of the prevailing conditions, because it is dark outside, and because you’re wearing dark clothing yourself, you are confident that you will remain concealed, and make it all the way there.
But you are not about to go pushing your luck too far this time, not at the risk of being busted. You are standing there on the ledge now at the back end of the room, behind all of those sitting there at the conference table, but almost exactly in front of the direct gaze of the king.
There has got to be a better place, the king might be a bit distraught and distracted now but who knows when he might momentarily resort to his customary sharp senses and wit and discover an intruder among them? Can’t risk that, got to find a better spot.
Oh, there it is, that upright column over there just behind the conference table with the drapery hanging alongside seemed perfect.
It will block the view towards you from the king’s position, and, unless one of the guests should get up and away from the business at hand and should come over and deliberately pear through the window, by shifting the drapery even, then you should be okay.
And those at the table seemed to be well caught up into the matter at hand, nobody seems likely to be going anywhere anytime soon.
But getting over there is going to be a real challenge. But you are game too. So now, after biding your time very carefully, you’ve managed to make it there behind the column.
You are undercover now yes, but you are having trouble hearing as clearly as you would have liked. Some high pitched voice sometimes gets carried through clear enough for you to hear what was said but for the most part, the words are coming through somewhat muffled.
However, with little, if any other choice, this is going to have to suffice. And then, there it is. The overture of the haunting melody, just like the footsteps the sound is coming, heavy boots coming, coming across the floor towards you.
…they at the table are still talking, they are deep into the discussions.
But the marching-boots type of footsteps is still coming, coming towards you. Even if it’s not what you think it is, there is no way that you are going to risk finding that out.
Speaking of “out,” that is what you are going to have to do, you are going to have to get out of there, out of that place where you are standing now, or out of sights any way possible.
And that was what you did, sliding down on hands and knees, quickly, very quickly. You would have swung yourself unto the underside of the ledge on which you had been standing moments before, dragging your hands along with you as fast as you could, while stretching yourself out full length.
Your feet would have found the column to the southern end, same as your hands, and just as quickly as you had dragged them off of the ledge above you and out of sight of the guard who had just popped the window open, just as quickly, you would have popped them over your head to meet the other column to the north side of the building.
So now you are hanging suspended there just below the underside of the ledge on which you had been standing moments before and thanking the gods, firstly the gods you’d long known to be good.
But then you would have started having trouble remembering any time or situations in which such gods had ever come through this quickly and this much forcefully for you or anyone that you had ever known, so you thought to yourself, it must have been the other gods, the Cekko gods probably, it must have been them who had done it for you.
You had even started to notice that the strength which you needed to bear you up in that position under the ledge, was supplied, even in abundance it would have seemed, and then you had was to start to think about sending out some of the praises unto the Cekko gods too, maybe, just maybe you had quickly transcended into being much more of a Cekko person than you’d thought at the first.
So, you would have offered up another prayer unto them thanking them for keeping you there in that position until you can make it down and out of there before the hard ground four stories down comes up rapidly to meet you there where you are hanging unprepared and unable to do anything about that situation any time soon.
Meanwhile, at least one other pair of boots would have marched over to that side of the conference room and might have been there bearing up a second head which is probably, even now, peering out of a window and looking around, searching to see what they could see of any person who might have been loitering somewhere around those parts. But…
It must have been a super-pack supply of strength which the gods had given you for the task because, for all of those many nights and days while the meeting continued on, you were hanging there on the underside of the ledge.
And even though some passersby would have turned the head upwards to look in that general direction, and even though you could have seen them clearly as they do so.
Somehow, none of them seemed to have even noticed that you were hanging suspended there for all that time. Wow! Awesome gods.