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Once Upon a Cloudtop Meadow

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nce upon a time, there was a place above the clouds—a world so wondrous it could only be discovered by the most curious of hearts. It was a realm of mist and marvels, where clouds formed pathways as soft as pillows, and every corner promised a new curiosity or adventure. Here, huts, creatures of every size, shape, and color, and even entire forests floated gracefully upon the fluffy white billows.

Over at the distance stood the Cloudtop Palace, a towering structure of shifting shapes and moonlit shimmer. No one truly knew what secrets it held. Some said the palace housed a Hall of Seven Doors, each one leading to a realm stranger and more wonderful than the last. Others claimed the palace was home to the Dream Master, who, according to a legend, crafted the dreams of every child in the world, and sending them down to earth on the backs of shooting stars. But these were only rumours, and no one —not even Lulu—had ever ventured inside the palace to see for herself.


Every night, Lulu would climb over the familiar cloudtop meadow where her adventures always began. She was never alone for long, for her dearest companion was always waiting for her. The Cloudman, her trusted guide and fellow adventurer, was a figure of ever-changing mist and soft, swirling vapor. His form was as mysterious as the world he belonged to, he was a keeper of secrets, a teller of tales, and a boundless well of curiosity. But most of all, he was Lulu's friend. "Another night, another adventure" he would say each time she arrived. 

Together, Lulu and Cloudman would wander through the Cloudtop Meadow, visiting the floating huts, where peculiar creatures made cups of tea that tasted like forgotten lullabies. They gazed in awe at the palace, speculating about what lay behind the Seven Doors. Sometimes they would chase floating lanterns that carried stray dreams too wild to be sent down to earth…
 

And so, dear reader, this is where our tale begins—not with a waking world of ordinary days, but with a sleeping girl and a realm of endless possibility.

 
Untill next time… keep your gaze cloud-bound...

II
Sleepwalker

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n a cold winter night, when the moonlight twirled like a curious kitten across the rooftops, so did Lulu sleepwalk, led by her dreams. She quietly tiptoed across the floor, drifted down the stairs, and slipped out the door. With each soft step, the world grew stranger, for there, gleaming under the silvery sky, was the most peculiar thing—a towering beanstalk, not of vines and leaves, but of whirring cogs, huffing steam, and gleaming brass.

It stretched into the heavens, puffing gentle clouds from its sides. A sign—written in letters that curled and looped as if they were giggling—read: 


"The Beanstalk Elevator—Climb to the Clouds, No Ticket Needed!"


Without a thought, Lulu climbed inside the elevator, and with a whirr and a puff, up, up, up she went until the clouds themselves gathered around her like a soft, fluffy blanket. The elevator came to a gentle stop with a final hiss of steam, and the doors opened to reveal a shimmering world made entirely of mist and clouds. There, in the cloud-kissed land, Lulu would wander, her bare feet leaving prints that vanished as quickly as they appeared.

And every night, just as the first light of dawn began to peek through the horizon, the elevator would whisk her back down, down, down, to her cosy little bed, where she would wake up, none the wiser to her nightly adventures.

The moon giggled, for it knew that Lulu's journey was far from over... and the beanstalk elevator would always be waiting for her next sleepy step.

III
Meet Cloudman

hen the great brass doors of the beanstalk elevator slide open, Lulu stepped into the cloudtops, her bare feet sinking softly into the mist. "Cloudman?" Lulu called into the endless whiteness resembling that of a meadow, her voice echoing faintly. "Cloudman! Where are you?" 

A gust of wind swirled around her, teasing at her hair, and Lulu turned quickly, peering into the haze. "Cloudman, where are you!" she said louder, her hands resting firmly on her hips. And then, with a burst of soft laughter he appeared—right behind her. "Looking for me?" he said, his voice as light and playful as the breeze. Lulu startled and spun around, nearly toppling over. "Cloudman! Don’t do that!" she scolded, though a giggle escaped her. He grinned (or, at least, his face shaped itself into a grin).

 

The Cloudman was tall and ever-shifting, his body made entirely of fluff and vapor, with swirls of stormy gray and wisps of pale white that drifted and reformed with every movement. His eyes, glowing softly twinkled with mischief. "Couldn't resist," he said, tipping an imaginary hat made of condensed mist. "Now then, Lulu, what’s the first rule of the cloudtops?"


"Don’t walk off the edge unless you want to land on a rooftop," she recited dutifully.


"Exactly. And what’s the second rule?"


"Always stick with Cloudman," she said with a smile, "because he knows all the best places."


"Smart girl. Speaking of which," Cloudman said, leaning closer, his voice lowering to a whisper, "I’ve got quite the adventure in store for you tonight." Lulu’s eyes lit up. "Where are we going?"


"The Cloudtop Imaginarium," he said, his words speeding up to "It’s where ideas take form and come alive, where dreams are painted in every colour imaginable, and where creativity bursts into the air like fireworks. Tonight, Lulu, we’re going to step into the minds of dreamers and see wonders beyond your wildest imagination."

Lulu gasped. "The Cloudtop Imaginarium? Is it really real? I’ve heard the stars whisper about it." "Oh, it’s real, all right. But it’s not a place you can find unless it wants to be found," said Cloudman, his form shimmering faintly in excitement. "It’s a realm of oddities and marvels—where the thoughts of the most creative beings take shape, and you can wander inside their worlds. It’s... a little strange, I won’t lie, but it’s the good kind of strange."


Lulu’s curiosity bubbled over like a pot of boiling tea. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go!" Cloudman chuckled, holding out a hand that was so soft and cool. "Hold tight. It’s not exactly a straight line from here to there. You’ll see." Lulu clasped his hand, and together they stepped forward into the mist. As they walked, the clouds swirled and shifted around them.

IV
A Night at the Cloudtop Imaginarium

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he mist curled around Lulu and Cloudman as they walked through the clouds. Lulu began to notice strange things floating past—tiny dancing figures made of fireflies, books that opened and shut like fluttering birds, and shapes that changed every time she blinked.

"Are we there yet?" Lulu asked, her voice tinged with excitement and impatience."Patience," said Cloudman with a grin. "The Imaginarium always knows when to make its grand entrance."

And just as he spoke, the air seemed to shimmer. Colors spilled out of nowhere, bright and impossibly vibrant, spreading like spilled ink across the sky. A grand, arched doorway emerged from the mist, its surface covered in swirling patterns that sparkled and shifted as if alive. Above the door, in letters made of stardust, was written:


-Cloudtop Imaginarium-


Lulu’s breath caught in her throat. "It’s... beautiful." 
"Just wait until you see inside," said Cloudman, his glowing eyes alight with mischief. He gave her a wink and pushed the door open with a flourish.
Inside, the world exploded into life—a kaleidoscope of sights and sounds. Paintings painted themselves midair, while sculptures grew like flowers from the ground and music wove itself into shapes that danced and twirled. Lulu saw doors that opened to miniature worlds, glowing fountains that bubbled with liquid colours, and figures who looked like they were made entirely of paper. Lulu’s eyes grew wide open. "Cloudman," she whispered, "I think this might be the most magical place I’ve ever seen." Cloudman gave her a misty grin. "And we’ve only just begun."


A great glass dome crowned the central tower, and beneath it, gears turned and whirred, powering the unending wonders within. All around, the air was alive with magic. Little creatures, soft and round, floated on balloons made of bubbles, their tiny wings flapping. Hand in hand, they followed the golden path toward the towering building. As they walked, Lulu marveled at the smaller oddities scattered along the way: a telescope taller than a tree, its lens swiveling on its own to gaze at the stars; a tiny forest of miniature trees that hummed with the sound of wind chimes; and a creature with antlers made of crystal, which nodded politely as they passed.


Finally, they reached the great arching door of the Imaginarium. It was made of polished brass and adorned with carvings of creatures and shapes that seemed to move when Lulu wasn’t looking directly at them. Lulu turned to Cloudman, her face alight with wonder. “This is the most magical place I’ve ever seen! Where do we start?” Cloudman chuckled, his misty form billowing with delight. “The Imaginarium has its own ideas about that. Follow me, and keep your eyes open—everything here has a story to tell, and some of them might just talk back!”
As they wandered deeper into the Imaginarium, Lulu could feel the very air humming with creativity, as if the walls themselves were alive with possibilities. Each step brought a new wonder: a doorway that opened into a galaxy swirling with stars, a hallway lined with books that whispered their contents into the air, and a room filled with sculptures that laughed as they reshaped themselves into new forms.


Cloudman led her to a grand chamber where a glowing carousel spun in slow, lazy circles. Instead of horses, its riders were ideas—sparkling, shifting shapes that seemed to pulse with potential. Lulu watched, entranced, as one of the ideas leapt off the carousel and burst into a tiny fireworks display before dissolving into the air. “This,” said Cloudman, his voice soft with awe, “is where dreams are born, Lulu. The Imaginarium takes the sparks of imagination and brings them to life, so they can find their way into the world below.” Lulu reached out, her fingers brushing one of the glowing ideas as it floated past. It hummed under her touch, warm and alive. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered. Cloudman smiled. “And there’s so much more to see. But remember, Lulu—this place is a gift, and it changes every night. Who knows what wonders tomorrow will bring?” Lulu nodded, her heart swelling with curiosity and joy. The Cloudtop Imaginarium was a world of infinite possibilities, and she couldn’t wait to explore every corner of it. As the golden path stretched onward, disappearing into the mist, Lulu and the Cloudman stepped forward, ready to uncover whatever secrets the Imaginarium had in store. 


Inside, they had lost themselves in wonder, hours slipping away unnoticed as they explored the impossible and the extraordinary. As the first pale hues of dawn began to stretch across the horizon, Lulu and Cloudman emerged from the shimmering doors of the Imaginarium, their laughter echoing softly in the quiet of the cloudtops. As it always happened after their adventures, Lulu slipped in and out of unconsciousness, faintly aware of her bed and the soft touch of the clouds beneath her little feet. She knew it was time to go, as she was getting rested and ready for the day ahead. Reluctantly, she turned to Cloudman, who gave her an  understanding nod and a smile. With a final glance at the Imaginarium’s spires disappearing into the morning light, Lulu took Cloudman’s hand one last time, and together they walked back to the waiting elevator. As the golden doors closed behind her, carrying her gently down to the waking world, the stars above seemed to wink, as if promising that the clouds would be waiting for her return.

V
A is for Aga

he lair was dark and cool, with walls of glittering emerald stone that sparkled faintly under the light of a single glowing crystal. Lulu tiptoed through the winding corridors, her every step careful and quiet as she made her way toward Aga’s den. Aga was already waiting for her, lounging on a pile of soft mismatched cushions.

“Lulu!” whispered Aga, his voice was warm and familiar. She was humanoid in shape, with the sleek green scales of an alligator and eyes that gleamed with mischievousness. Lulu grinned back and waved. Aga wasn’t her friend’s real name, of course, but it was the one Lulu had given her. It all started when Lulu had been watching phonetics songs on television. One particular tune had stuck in her mind—a cheerful melody that repeated, “A – A – A – is for Alligator!” But little Lulu, too young to grasp the full word, had enthusiastically sung along with her own version: “A – A – A – is for Aga!” From that moment, the name had stuck, and the alligator had worn it proudly ever since.

“We need to be quiet,” Lulu whispered, glancing nervously toward the deeper shadows of the lair. “Is it still sleeping?”

Aga nodded, her long tail swishing softly behind her. “For now,” he said, “but we’ll have to move fast. You know how the dragon hates being disturbed.”

The dragon, a slumbering beast of scales and smoke, lay curled in a cavern just beyond Aga’s den. Its snores rumbled like distant thunder, and occasionally, a puff of smoke would escape its nostrils. Lulu had never seen the dragon fully awake, and she didn’t intend to now.

“Ready?” Lulu asked, holding out her hand.

Aga nodded, slipping his clawed fingers into Lulu’s. “Let’s go.”

Together, they crept through the winding passages of the lair, their footsteps barely audible over the dragon’s rumbling snores.

“Almost there,” Aga whispered as they neared the final tunnel.

But just as they reached the exit, a sharp snort echoed through the cavern. Lulu froze, her heart pounding. Behind them, the dragon shifted, one massive eye cracking open to reveal a giant pupil.

“It’s waking up!” Lulu whispered urgently.

“Run!” shouted Aga, abandoning all attempts at stealth.

The two bolted through the tunnel, their feet pounding against the stone as the dragon let out a deafening roar. Smoke billowed through the air, and Lulu could feel the heat of its breath on her heels. They ran as fast as they could, the exit growing closer with every step.

“Faster, faster!” Aga cried, his voice tinged with both terror and exhilaration.

With a final leap, they burst out into the open air just as a great plume of smoke erupted behind them. The dragon’s roar faded as they tumbled onto the soft cloudscape outside, both of them gasping for breath and laughing with relief.

Waiting for them, leaning casually against his white car, was Cloudman. The vehicle was a delightfully odd contraption, made of swirling vapor, wooden frame and bits of brass tubes.

“Trouble with the dragon again?” Cloudman asked, raising a wispy eyebrow.

“Just a little,” Lulu said, brushing herself off.

“You know how grumpy it gets,” Aga added with a grin, still catching his breath.

“Well, hop in,” said Cloudman, opening the door with a flourish. “We’ve got somewhere special to be.”

The three of them climbed into the cloudcar, which hummed softly as it lifted into the sky. It zipped through the cloudtops, leaving trails of shimmering mist in its wake, until they arrived at their destination: the Cloudaurant, a floating restaurant.

The Cloudaurant was a dazzling sight, with shimmering tables and chairs made of spun glass, and mechanical automaton waiters made of static faces and tons of gears. The menu here was legendary for its oddities, where nothing tasted the way it looked. Sweets were salty, savory dishes were sweet, and the colorus of the food gave no hint of their flavour.

“I’ll take the rainbow soup,” Lulu said, eyeing a steaming bowl filled with shimmering colours.

“And I’ll have the chocolate pudding,” Aga added, though he glanced suspiciously at the greenish hue of the dish.

Cloudman ordered a plate of what looked like ordinary pancakes but turned out to taste like a spinach salad.

The three of them spent the day in fits of laughter, each bite bringing a new surprise. Lulu giggled as her soup turned out to taste like roasted marshmallows, while Aga nearly spat out her “chocolate pudding,” which tasted exactly like dill pickles. Cloudman, ever the adventurer, declared that the pancakes were “refreshing”

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, their meal drew to a close, but the laughter lingered long after the plates had been cleared. For Lulu, Aga, and Cloudman, it had been a day full of surprises, and as they climbed back into the cloudcar, Lulu could feel the familiar sensation of waking up to a new day.

VI
Berceuse for Lulu

ulu knocked on Cloudman’s door one bright afternoon, the floating rock beneath her feet swaying gently on the breeze. The door swung open almost immediately, and there was Cloudman, practically glowing with excitement.

“Ah, Lulu! Just in time, I have a special surprise for you today.”


“What kind of surprise?” Lulu asked, her curiosity piqued.


Cloudman leaned down and whispered “We’re going to visit the Maestro Somnus.”


“Maestro Somnus?” Lulu repeated, her brow wrinkling.


“Indeed! He’s the one who organizes all the lullabies. Keeps track of them, preserves the old ones, and even makes new ones for special occasions.” Cloudman straightened up and winked. “Today, we’re his special occasion.”


Before Lulu could fully process this, Cloudman ushered her into the cloudcar. It hummed to life, its vapor wheels spinning lazily as they rose into the sky. The car zipped over the soft expanse of the Cloudtop meadows, its path tracing the golden glow of the late afternoon light.


The house of Maestro Somnus lay at the very edge of the magical forest, just where the trees began to thin and the mist swirled thickly around the ground. The house itself was astonishingly small—so tiny, in fact, that Lulu wasn’t sure how anyone could fit inside. It was no bigger than a mushroom cap, its walls made of polished brass that gleamed faintly in the dim light.


“How do we get in?” Lulu asked, peering at the little door, which was no taller than her knee.


“We wait,” Cloudman said simply.


Just then, the door creaked open, and out stepped the Maestro Somnus—a curious little figure no taller than Lulu’s hand. He wore a patchwork coat of mismatched fabrics, and his face was hidden beneath a wide-brimmed hat that drooped over his eyes.


“Cloudman,” the Maestro Somnus said in a voice that was unexpectedly deep for his size. “And Lulu, of course. I’ve been expecting you.”


He raised a hand, and a strange sensation washed over Lulu. The world seemed to stretch and blur, the trees rising higher and higher until they loomed like skyscrapers above her. No—she realized with a start—they weren’t growing. She was shrinking.


In moments, she was no bigger than a dandelion seed, standing beside Cloudman at the entrance to the Maestro Somnus’s house.


“Come along,” the Maestro Somnus said, gesturing them inside.


The interior of the house was nothing like Lulu expected. Instead of walls and furniture, it was a miniature forest, complete with trees, soft moss underfoot, and the scent of damp earth. Red-cap mushrooms dotted the landscape, their spotted tops glowing faintly in the dim light. There was the sound of distant chirping, as though unseen birds flitted through the treetops.


“This is a house?” Lulu muttered, looking around in disbelief. “Feels more like we stepped into a tiny foret.”


The Maestro Somnus ignored her, leading them to a small clearing where a delicate harp stood in the center. Strings of silvery thread stretched across it, vibrating softly as though playing a song no one could hear.


Nearby, Lulu noticed a golden-framed mirror glowing faintly, which wasn’t so much a mirror as it was an open portal to the endless skies. Suddenly, a thin wisp of cloud trailed out of it. Something just beyond the mirror seemed alive. She stepped closer to look, drawn by the strange pull of the mirror.


“Careful near the mirror,” Cloudman said suddenly, his tone unusually firm.


The Maestro Somnus glanced over from where he stood near his harp. “Yes, yes, best not to linger there. Mirrors hold memories, you know,” he said, tipping his wide-brimmed hat lower. “And not all memories like to stay in one place.”


Lulu hesitated, glancing between them and the mirror. But the strangeness of the house drew her attention elsewhere, and she wandered farther inside.


As she moved through the strange little forest, Lulu came upon something entirely unexpected. Tucked behind a cluster of mushrooms was a small clearing, and in the middle of it stood a room. Not just any room—a room that looked exactly like her bedroom.


The bed was perfectly made, the pale pink quilt folded neatly just as her mother would do. The chair beside it was angled toward the small desk where Lulu often sat to draw. A soft yellow lamp cast a warm glow, and on the nightstand sat her favorite book, The Snow Queen, left open at the page where she’d fallen asleep.
Lulu froze. Her heart twisted with a sudden, unplaceable feeling. “How...?” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.


Maestro Somnus appeared behind her, Cloudman at his side. “Ah,” he said softly, “you’ve found the testing room.”


Lulu stayed silent, still staring at the impossible sight before her.


“This is where I perfect my lullabies” said Maestro Somnus “The room transforms to reflect the person the lullaby is for. In this case… it’s yours.”


Cloudman gave her a gentle nudge. “Your room is lovely, Lulu,” he said with a smile. “Full of warmth.”


Lulu stepped closer, her fingers brushing the edge of the desk. It was perfect in every detail—so perfect that it made her chest ache with homesickness she never experienced above the clouds. 


“Does it… always look like this?” she asked.


“Oh, no,” Maestro Somnus replied with a chuckle. “It changes for everyone. It becomes the  place where they feel safest, or happiest. Yours is particularly cozy, I must say.”


Lulu turned to face him, her eyes searching. “How do you know what my room looks like?”


For a moment, the three of them stood in silence, the soft hum of the room’s magic wrapping around them like a warm blanket. Then, sensing Lulu’s emotions, Cloudman gave her a playful nudge.


“Come on,” he said, his voice light. “We’ve got muffins waiting for us back home, remember? Can’t let Aga eat them all.”


The moment broke, and Lulu nodded, wiping at her eyes as though a speck of dust had gotten into them. She followed the two back toward the harp, casting one last glance at the room as it began to fade, its edges dissolving like mist.
“I’ve prepared something for you,” Maestro Somnus said, turning to Lulu. “A lullaby just for you.”


“For me?” Lulu asked, in her tiny voice.


“Cloudman told me you sometimes find it difficult to sleep,” Maestro Somnus replied. “This might help.”


He plucked a single string on the harp, and a soft, ethereal melody filled the air. As Lulu listened, she felt as though the music wrapped around her, soothing and familiar. It was as if the song knew her—her hopes, her fears, and the secret thoughts she never spoke aloud.


But as the melody continued, the harp began to glow faintly, and Lulu noticed something strange. The mushrooms around them seemed to sway to the music, their glowing caps flickering like candles in the wind.


“Uh, is that supposed to happen?” Lulu asked, pointing at the mushrooms.


The music grew louder, and the ground beneath them trembled slightly. Lulu felt a strange pull, as though the forest itself was drawing her in.


“Enough for now,” Cloudman said quickly, stepping forward. “We don’t want to overwhelm her.”


The Maestro Somnus plucked another string, and the music stopped abruptly. The mushrooms stilled, and the trembling ceased.


“Is it supposed to feel like that?” Lulu asked, her voice tinged with both wonder and unease.


The Maestro Somnus gave her a small, mysterious smile. “Every lullaby is unique. It will do what it’s meant to do.”


After a few more observations, Maestro Somnus led them back to the entrance, where he reversed the shrinking spell and returned them to their normal size.
As they climbed back into the cloudcar, Lulu clutched the tiny vial the Maestro Somnus had given her lullaby captured in liquid form.


Cloudman glanced at her as they began their journey home. “So, what did you think?”


Lulu was quiet for a moment, her fingers brushing the vial. “It was magical” she said softly.


As the cloudcar hummed along, Lulu gazed out at the horizon, wondering what other secrets the Cloudtops might hold.

VI
Into The Forest

he rain was light as Lulu, Cloudman, and Aga entered the Enchanted Forest. The trees here were impossibly tall, their branches tangled in a canopy so dense that only a faint glow of daylight seeped through. Drops of rain slid from the leaves above, glistening like tiny jewels before disappearing into the thick moss that blanketed the forest floor.

“Ah, smell that?” Cloudman said, inhaling deeply. His vaporous form shimmered with delight. “The rain has arrived, which means the Joyful Mushrooms have too. Perfect weather for my famous Joysoup!”

“Perfect weather for mud,” grumbled Aga, hopping over a particularly soggy patch. She glanced back at Lulu, who was trailing just behind Cloudman. “What’s the matter, Lulu? Don’t tell me the forest is giving you the creeps?”

“I’m not scared,” Lulu replied, though her voice wavered slightly. “It’s just… different in here. It feels like the trees are listening.”

“Listening? Ha!” Aga twirled around dramatically, splashing water from a puddle with her tail. “Maybe they’re eavesdropping on your thoughts! Watch out, or they’ll know what you’re dreaming about!”

Lulu tried not to laugh but couldn’t help herself as Aga struck a ridiculous pose. To shake off her nerves, she began to sing a little tune, her voice weaving softly through the trees.

“Spin Earth, spin around the sun,

Mercury... Sun... Mercury... Sun...

Dance in space, planets, one by one,

Spin Earth, spin until we’re done...”

Cloudman chuckled as they walked, the sound of his laughter blending with the rhythm of the rain. “Well, that’s a first. A planetary jig to lighten the mood. I like it!”

As the song faded, the forest grew thicker and darker. The air seemed heavier, the sounds of dripping water and their own footsteps muffled by the dense foliage. Lulu clutched Aga’s hand as they walked deeper, her heart beating faster.

Just when the shadows felt too close, a burst of light appeared—tiny glowing creatures flitting through the air like living stars.

“Firebugs!” Lulu exclaimed, her face breaking into a delighted smile.

The magical insects twirled and danced around them, their golden light cutting through the gloom. Lulu reached out, and a firebug hovered near her hand, glowing brighter as if to greet her.

“They never fail, do they?” said Cloudman, watching as the firebugs formed spirals of light above them. “Pure joy in the shape of a bug.”

After a while, the firebugs darted away, and the group continued on their search. At last, Cloudman’s misty form brightened. “There! Look—Joyful Mushrooms!”

They had stumbled into a small clearing where the mushrooms grew in clusters, their caps gleaming with iridescent hues of pink, blue, and gold. Cloudman knelt beside them, carefully plucking the plumpest ones and placing them in a floating bag of cloud he had conjured.

But as he reached for one particularly large mushroom, a nearby spore pod suddenly burst with a loud pop, releasing a shimmering cloud of spores into the air.

“Ack! It got me!” Aga yelped, shaking her head as the spores settled over them like golden dust.

“Stay calm, everyone,” Cloudman said, brushing spores from his misty arms. “It’s harmless. Probably.”

“Probably?” Lulu asked, her voice tinged with worry.

Before Cloudman could answer, the forest around them began to change. Colors shifted, the green leaves taking on shades of violet and orange. The firebugs, now enormous, drifted lazily around them like glowing balloons, their light casting strange shadows on the ground.

The trees groaned and creaked as their trunks twisted, forming faces with hollow eyes and mouths.

“Oh, great,” muttered Aga. “Now the trees are talking.”

One particularly grumpy-looking tree leaned forward, its gnarled face etched with frustration. “There’s no sun down here! How are we supposed to grow? It’s those greedy canopy trees—hogging all the light!”

Another tree grumbled in agreement. “Selfish, every last one of them. I haven’t seen the sun in decades!”

As the trees bickered, a tiny sprout near Lulu’s foot wiggled free of the ground.

“I’ve had enough!” the sprout declared in a high-pitched voice. “I’m finding the sun myself!” With surprising speed, it marched away, its little roots pattering against the ground.

Lulu stared after the sprout, stunned, but her thoughts were interrupted by a faint sound in the distance.

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“Shh!” she said, holding up a hand. “Do you hear that?”

The others fell silent, and the sound grew clearer—a distant, mournful cry carried on the breeze.

“It sounds like someone,” Lulu said, straining to hear. She frowned, trying to make out the words. “It’s calling… it’s calling someone called… Ugagu?”

The name lingered in the air, strange and unfamiliar, as the forest grew unnervingly quiet.

VII
K'yango's Lament

he deeper they ventured into the forest, the stranger the world became. The trees seemed to stretch endlessly upward, their twisted trunks weaving intricate patterns that shifted with every step. Shadows played tricks on the ground, forming shapes that danced and then disappeared, while faint glimmers of light darted through the underbrush like mischievous spirits.

Lulu, unbothered by the oddities, laughed and twirled in the rain, hopping from one mossy stone to another. “This is just like a game!” she said, her voice bright and carefree. “What’s next? Dancing trees? Singing rocks?”


Cloudman chuckled softly, though his glowing eyes darted around the forest with a hint of unease. “Ah, yes, a game,” he murmured, his misty form rippling as if to shake off a thought. “One where the rules change as you play.”


Aga, on the other hand, seemed completely at ease, snapping her jaws playfully at drifting leaves. “If this is a game, I’m winning,” she declared, splashing through a puddle.


The distant cry, faint and mournful, interrupted their laughter. It echoed through the forest, louder now but less frequent, as though the voice were growing weary.
“Ugagu,” Lulu whispered to herself, the strange word lingering in her mind.
Their path led them to a brook, its clear water bubbling over smooth stones. The rain had eased into a fine mist, and the forest felt still, as though holding its breath.
“There’s something moving,” Lulu said, pointing across the brook. She squinted through the haze. It was small and white, no larger than a pony, but its shape was indistinct, shifting slightly as it moved behind the trees.


“Could be a goat,” Aga said, tilting her head. “Or maybe a very fluffy rock.”
“I think it’s an animal,” Lulu said, stepping closer to the water. She was about to leap across when Cloudman’s hand shot out, his grip firm on her arm.
“Wait,” he said, his voice unusually serious. “Remember—you can only cross the river once.”


“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lulu asked, pulling her arm free. “I can see the other side right there. It’s not like it’ll disappear!”


Cloudman’s form wavered slightly, as though unsure of his own words. “Just... be careful,” he said at last.


Despite his warning, they all crossed the brook, the cool water splashing against their ankles. On the other side, the strange shape became clearer. It wasn’t a pony at all.


“It’s... a unicorn,” Lulu whispered, her eyes wide with wonder. The creature was small and delicate, its coat a gleaming white that seemed to glow faintly in the dim light. A single golden horn spiraled from its forehead, and its large, dark eyes were filled with fear.


“Wait a minute,” Aga said, blinking. “How do you know it’s a unicorn? What if it’s just a horse wearing a very fancy hat?”


“It’s a K’yango,” Lulu said suddenly, her voice tinged with certainty.


“A... what?” Cloudman asked, his misty face creasing in confusion.


“K’yango!” Lulu repeated, as if that made everything clear.


The unicorn—or K’yango, as Lulu insisted—took a cautious step back, its hooves trembling. Its soft cry pierced the air, a sound of pure distress.


“She’s lost,” Lulu said, kneeling slowly to meet the unicorn’s gaze. “She’s calling for her mother. Ugagu.”


At the mention of the name, the unicorn stopped trembling, its ears perking up slightly. Lulu reached out her hand, and after a moment of hesitation, the unicorn stepped forward, its horn gleaming in the faint light.


“We’ll help you,” Lulu said gently. “You don’t have to be scared anymore.”
“Well, I hope she knows where she’s going,” Aga said, folding her arms. “This place is getting stranger by the second.”

Cloudman sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Fine, we’ll bring her along. But first, let’s get out of here and back to something resembling sanity. Home, I say. The Joyful Mushrooms won’t cook themselves.”

The group turned back toward the brook, the unicorn now walking close to Lulu’s side. The rain had stopped entirely, leaving the air thick with the earthy smell of the forest. As they began their journey home, Cloudman muttered to himself with a wry chuckle, “Although, I think we’ve had one too many mushrooms as it is.”

VIII
The Secret Recipe

loudman’s hut sat on a floating rock, high above the Cloudtop meadow, like a tiny, self-contained world in the sky. The rock itself was lush and green, a perfect little meadow that never changed no matter the season. It was always spring here, with soft grass underfoot and the occasional bunch of dandelions swaying in a breeze.

The hut was modest from the outside—a simple wooden structure with a crooked chimney that puffed little clouds into the air. Inside, the hut was disproportionately large reminiscent o of the Penrose Stairs. With rooms that seemed to stretch forever and hallways that turned corners where no corners should have been. She had never quite figured out how far it went, but that was part of its charm.


In the garden, a curious collection of broken gnomes stood around a small well, their painted faces chipped and faded. Every now and then, a croaky voice would drift up from the well, but Lulu had never managed to meet the frog that supposedly lived there.


Today, though, Lulu had no time to wonder about gnomes or frogs. She climbed the short staircase to the hut’s front door and knocked lightly. From somewhere behind the house, Cloudman’s cheerful voice called out, “In the back garden, Lulu! Come on around!”


She made her way around the side of the hut, where Cloudman was crouched among rows of bushes, his misty form shimmering in the sunlight. He was holding a small basket and plucking Glitterberries, their bright, sparkling skins catching the light like tiny gemstones.


“Ah, caught me in the act, didn’t you?” Cloudman said with a grin.


“Are you picking Glitterberries for muffins?” Lulu asked, her face brightening.
“For muffins and for you,” he said, standing and shaking the basket lightly so the berries glittered like a kaleidoscope. “Now that you’re here, we can bake them together. You know, secret recipes always turn out better with two chefs!”
Lulu laughed and followed Cloudman inside. The kitchen, much like the rest of the hut, was cozy but peculiar. The cabinets were filled with jars labeled in looping handwriting—things like Dream Dust, Stardrop Syrup, and Vanilla from Somewhere Else. There was even a small stove that seemed to float just slightly above the floor.


As they worked together, washing the berries and mixing the batter, Lulu grew unusually quiet. Cloudman noticed but didn’t say anything right away. Finally, as she stirred the bowl, she looked up at him and asked, “Cloudman, do you think… do you think there’s a medicine that can cure everything?”


Cloudman froze for a moment, caught by surprise. But without pressuring her, he smiled gently and said, “Well, that’s quite a question, Lulu.” He set down the bowl he was holding and leaned on the counter. “If anyone would know the answer, it might be the Wise Old Druid.”


“The Wise Old Druid?” Lulu repeated, her curiosity sparked.


“Mm-hmm,” Cloudman said. “He lives near the edge of the Magical Forest—you know, the one we visited recently. They say he knows more about the world than anyone else, and if there’s an answer to your question, he’d have it.”
Lulu’s stirring slowed as she thought about this mysterious figure. “What does he look like? Is he… nice?”


Cloudman chuckled. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry. The Druid is as kind as the forest is deep. If you’d like, we can go and find him—after the muffins, of course!”
Lulu nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. As they worked, Lulu looked up at Cloudman and asked, “Can I have the recipe? I want to give it to my mum.” Cloudman smiled knowingly. “Does Earth have Glitterberries?”


Lulu paused, then her face lit up. “Well, my grandma lives in the country! They have lots of gardens, and fields, and bees, and honey, and—”


“Do they have Glitterberries?” Cloudman interrupted, raising a wispy eyebrow.
Lulu hesitated, her mouth open mid-thought.


“I rest my case,” Cloudman said with a chuckle.


“But—” Lulu started to protest, only for Cloudman to dip a finger into the batter and tap it gently onto the tip of her nose.


“Secret recipes are just that,” he said with a grin. “They’re secret.”
As they mixed the batter, Lulu began to count under her breath. 


“One… two… three…”


Cloudman tilted his head, his misty form rippling with curiosity. “What are you counting, Lulu?”


“I’m counting,” she replied simply, her eyes fixed on the bowl of batter as she stirred.


“Well, that much is clear,” he said with a chuckle. “But counting what?”


“Our time together,” Lulu said, her voice quiet but steady.


Cloudman paused, puzzled. Before he could respond, Lulu’s count reached sixty. She stopped stirring and set the spoon down, her hands still.


“Will I die at age sixty?” she asked, her words soft yet startling.


Cloudman froze, his usual breezy cheer replaced by a sudden, deep stillness. Setting his bowl aside, he knelt beside Lulu and gently took her small hands in his own misty ones. “First, the strange medicine, and now this... Is everything alright down there?” he asked, his tone careful, though his glowing eyes were full of concern.
For a moment, Lulu gazed over the counter, her expression distant. Then, just as quickly, she brightened, as though a cloud had lifted. “Wow!” she said, pointing at a jar on the shelf. “We need to add these sprinkles too!”


Cloudman blinked but smiled, deciding not to press further. “Sprinkles, of course! No Glitterberry Muffin is complete without them!”


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Let’s invite everyone,” Cloudman said, spinning the dial. Soon enough, all their friends arrived, including Aga and K’yango. The group laughed and chatted as they shared the muffins, delighting in their sparkling sweetness. Lulu’s worries seemed to melt away as they told stories and joked together.


When it was time to leave, Cloudman packed the remaining Glitterberries into a basket. “If we’re going to visit the Wise Old Druid, we’d better bring him something special,” he said. Aga gave a dramatic sigh. “Another adventure already? Don’t you people ever nap?” 


As the group stood at the edge of the floating meadow, the sky began to blush with the warm hues of early evening. K’yango, now safely reunited with her mother Ugagu, gave Lulu an encouraging nuzzle. “Be careful,” K’yango said softly. “The forest is full of mysteries.”


Lulu nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and curiosity about the Wise Old Druid and what answers he might have. Together with Cloudman and Aga, she stepped onto the shimmering path that led away from the meadow. 


As they walked into the horizon, the floating hut stood behind them, puffing little clouds into the sky.

glitterberries_edited.png

They continued to prepare the muffins, pouring the glittering batter into little moulds and sliding them into the floating oven. As the sweet aroma filled the air, Cloudman pulled out his peculiar telephone—a strange device that looked as though it had been cobbled together from dreams and whims. The round dial wasn’t marked with numbers but with colours, each one connected to a different friend.

to be continued...

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