My first experience of begin a mystic? Oi vey, that’s a hard one. I guess that would have to be when we were camping at Wallowa Lake. I don’t remember how old I was, between four and seven I’d have to say. I know at five we camped in Montana, so that leaves either four, six, or seven.

We were shopping at the campground lodge, and I got separated from my mother. I don’t think I even made an attempt to find her, I just decided to walk back to our camp site.

I remember just as I started down the road I got this urge to talk to this tree. Ya, a bloody tree. I just asked it, “am I going the right way?” It didn’t answer me back by talking, but still I understood that it was saying, “yes” to me. I can’t explain it, the tree just told me I going the right way. So I just kept walking in the same direction.

Next I came across a squirrel. It was sitting on a stump eating a peanut. I don’t know why, but I decided to ask it, “am I going the right way?” Again without talking the squirrel said to me, “yes.”

I knew a squirrel couldn’t talk, but being a little kid I just accepted the answer and kept on going.

The next thing that happened is I came to a bridge over a very full, fast moving creek. Just to myself I thought, “that river is safe for me to wade across.” At that same moment I noticed a crow sitting on a branch that hung over the creek. It looked like it was looking directly at me. Then all of a sudden I heard it saying, “No,” and I knew it was in relation to me wadding across the creek. Without really thinking about it I continued across the bridge. Turned out a child not that much younger than me drowned in the creek at that same spot in a few weeks. Damn good think the crow had set me straight

Once across the bridge I ran into a couple of girls who knew which camp site I belonged to. They had some balloons and they took me back to our tent to await the return of my mother. This is how my adventure ended.

But those moments with the tree, squirrel and crow are the first I remember of experiencing Truthing, as it was described to me at the time.

Most people get an elevated mood when the sun comes out like it is today. For a manic-depressive like myself who is also slightly seasonally effected, the sun is like a siren call to mania. On a day like today I have to be especially mindful of letting my mood get too high. Mantra for the day is stay in the middle, the middle between depression and mania.

Time will tell if I’m successful or not, but I have the feeling my mindfulness is going to kick ass today… 🙂

The King was sure the Mystic would reveal the lies he’d told the people. For this reason he put a price on his head. Five-hundred gold pieces to the person who brought the Mystics head on a spike. That was just enough money to convince people to forget their morals, and turn the Mystic into one of the King’s garrisons.

One thing the King hadn’t taken into account was the Mystic giving away ten times that amount of money on a regular basis. No one knew where he got the gold from, but he handed out the gold to those who were in need all over the kingdom. The loyalty giving away as much money as he did was greater than peoples loyalty to the King, When it became clear to the King that this was the case he became furious and ordered a full regiment of the army to hunt him down.

After the regiment had failed to turn up the Mystic the King went a little bat shit crazy. It was then he made a conscription for the army so he could treat finding the Mystic like he would if he was taking the country to war. Unfortunately for the King the people were so pissed about the conscription they all wanted to keep the Mystic free from the King’s grasp. It’s at this point where we pick up the story of how the Mystic defeated the King in the war the King brought against him.

What is one of the hardest things about being manic-depressive? Knowing that most things can be a trigger into mania or depression. I’m looking at going back to work and the first thing I have to ask about a job is “could this job trigger a positive or negative mood swing?” The answer is almost always yes. You end up weighing likelihoods, which is guess work for the most part. I just have to resolve myself to trying to make the best guess I can. Everybody is in this boat to one degree or another, it’s just manic depression adds a extra special sauce to the situation. No point in complaining about it… it wouldn’t do any good.

He reached the trading post a little after midnight. Banging on the door to the post brought no response. So the Mystic decided to make a fire near a lone oak tree, twenty yards from the post. “First I gather the wood, then I burn the wood, ” said the Mystic to himself as he began looking for fuel for his fire,

After the fire was burning and a circle of light reached the post, the Mystic pulled dinner out of his saddle bag. A rabbit he had caught lingering in the middle of the road.

Once the rabbit was on the spit, the Mystic began to get warm from the heat of the fire.

“What do you want?” asked a voice from the shadows.

“Warmth from the cold, ” said the Mystic. “At the moment I’m comfortably numb.”

“You will be comfortably numb as you lie in your grave, ” said the voice. After a short pause an arrow came flying out of the dark toward the Mystic’s heart. At the last moment He snatched the arrow from the air. Beads of sweat trickled down the Mystic’s back.

Just then a man rushed out of the dark carrying a broad sword in the position to decapitate. The Mystic new he had to strike first. He drew his stiletto and just before the stranger was upon him the Mystic shoved the knife into the mans liver. He froze on contact, then was still before he finally fell face first into the ground. The Mystic dragged the body into the darkness beyond the fire light. On returning he first ate his dinner. He wold settle up with the post operator tomorrow and be on his way, leaving a solitary grave under the massive oak.

I met him when I was twelve years old. I didn’t think there was anything unusual about him, other than he talked to me like I was an adult instead of a little kid. It wasn’t until I was almost seventeen that I realized he always seem to guess what was on your mind. I remember once after I’d stolen something from a friend of ours, and we were all in a room with the person who’d been the victim of the theft was interrogating everybody. Most of us expressed great outrage at being accused, but he just nodded his head, giving the impression he understood something nobody else did. Eventually he looked at me and said, “don’t you think you should confess that you’re the thief.” I looked at him in utter disbelief. How did he know it was me? That’s what it was like to be around him. So it came as no surprise when I found out he was actually the Mystic of Cascadia. Only a mystic truly talented in the truthing could of figured out I was the thief. I made a vow that I would never lie while he was around. Afterward, he’d said to me, out of the blue,. “good choice not to lie while I’m around, chances are I’ll bust you.” I just stared at him in disbelief, feeling thankful I’d vowed to never lie again in his presence.

“What’s new with you today?” said Falcao, the Mystic of Cascadia.

Hagar looked down and to the right, tipping off that he was about to lie. He looked Falcao in the eyes.

“Nothing, eh?” said the Mystic. It was clear to him that Hagar was lying. “So,” the Mystic thought to himself, “There is something new, he just doesn’t want to share it at this point. I’ll give him some time to decide that he wants to be honest with me.”

The Mystic then said, “You will tell me the truth when you’re ready.”

Again Hagar looked down and to the right. “I won’t force you to tell me the truth,” Falcao said. He sat down next to Hagar and pet his thick, luxurious fur the Viking Beaver was covered in. Falcao then picked up Hagar’s helmet and fingered the bear claws the helmet had instead of horns. Falcao had made the helmet when he’d come across a bear’s paw having been recently cut off by a poacher. When the Mystic had caught poachers he made sure they’d not be cutting off anymore bear claws.

“I guess we’re at an impasse, my friend, ” the mystic said. “Next time I come I’ll bring some bamboo shoots, the ones you like so much. Maybe I can bribe the truth out of you.” And of course, once again, the Ragar looked down and to the right.

“I’ll see you soon, my friend, ” Falcao said, and then picked up his walking stick and walked off down the beaver pond trail. “I’ll crack that egg yet, ” the Mystic said to himself. “And when I do we can make an omelette.” Falcao laughed to himself, as he often did when making such stupid jokes.

Ragar is a Viking beaver. He does viking things on his pond and the connected waterway, which is the Columbia slough. He attacks cars going over the bridge that go over the slough. His favorite thing to do is to come up behind unsuspecting kayakers and tip them over.

Animal control tries to trap Ragar but they can’t quite seems to pull it off. The other animals that live in or around the slough keep him informed of animal control, which allows him to evade all traps.

Ragar has some human allies that make sure he always has enough to eat. Mothers bring their kids to feed Ragar who’s more than happy to do the things in the water that make the kids squeal in joy.

Ragar’s most important ally is Falcao, the Mystic of Cascadia. They communicate with each other via the Mystics Truthing. He speaks to Ragar and senses what meaning it has for him. Ragar and Falcao have many adventures together as both tend to be a little more curious things than is probably healthy.