Once upon a time, there lived a man of gallantry and honour in the land of Espaniola.

His name was Donato Don Quixote and he thought highly about living a life filled with chivalry and respect and love for one's family and friends. One night Don Quixote had a very vivid dream; he seemed to talk to himself from some other place of reality.

"Hello Don!", said Don from the other place.

"I am your imagination Don and I would like to tell you about your dreams of a meaningful life and how you can achieve that in your ordinary state of being; when you are awake.

You know that the world around you is in a big mess, so to say. There is no respect between the people, so little consideration of helping one another and so many regulations about what one can do or not do.

Everyone is just trying to get lots of things, money and conquests and fame and fortune in a kind of vanity and coloured in those things of greed and violence.

There often is just so little love left in people, it makes the people here, in the other place, very sick at heart and mind. We, all the other people here are tring very hard to wake you, the people at your place up, out from your slumberness in your wakefulness.

You can help us Don!

You still harbour a kind of selfrespect within you, when you are awake and when you consider the dire state of the conscious world. When you wake up, you will recall this conversation and hen after thinking about it, you can make a decision if you would like to help us, that is all the people here.

Should you agree to help, then you will be able to see things of our world here and act accordingly. Now the other people around you might or might not see what you see. This means that most people will call you a fool, crazy, or out-of-your-mind.

And you will be, because you will look like through a window from your world into our world. We are the imaginary people here, living in an imaginary place of pure fantasy.

What you call your past is our heavenly above and what you term your future is our hellish below. Your present moment is our Now, an event which to us marries the above to the below, heaven to hell and the past to the future.

So Don, seeing into our world through the window of your mindful imagination will allow you to see the present as All That Is and so you can view all that exists as a construct of your own imagination, which is of course myself as the imagination of yourself, named Don Quixote.

If you agree to help us, then you will become an adventurer for us and our Now. You shall follow the grail of an imaginary hero, our champion, and embarking on a rescue mission; namely to free our queen, held bondage by the windmill devils.

Then, upon contemplation, you will learn to use your visionary window as communication channel and so be able to receive more detailed information, should the situation and circumstances require it. I shall leave you now, awake well Don!"

Don Quixote woke up with a spinning headache.

"What a dream, sort of talking to myself", he thought aloud as he recalled the information apparently given to himself by his alter ego or higher self or Id of whatever. Don decided to help the fantasy people.

"Gee, maybe everyone has got such an imaginary persona. If enough of us here gather our dreamtime forces, then this quest, whatever it is, should be able to be concluded in a positive manner for all concerned."

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"I'll come along Don!", said Sancho Panza, Don's best friend in the land of Espaniola and who had come to share breakfast with Donato Don Quixote.

There and then had Don Quixote shared his dreamy experience with Sancho.

"You do not know really just what you would like to do, but I am your mate and what are friends for, but to help one another. I'm sure those other mirror-people will help us to fulfil our quest; it's their idea anyway."

"Thank you Sancho. I hope this window in my mind opens soon. Then we will know what to do next," replied Don appreciatively.

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Don and Sancho were sitting outside Don's house, a typical Espaniolean villa with a roomy verandah, sipping Cadizian ales, when Don suddenly jerked.

"There is something Sancho. I'm fully awake, yet I feel something stirring in my mind.

Yes, it's like a presence. I can feel words forming in my mind. It's not a voice, it's me, my thoughts, but tuning into something. I'll try to use words to describe what is going on. Just listen Sancho, what I say and what you can make of it.

Cavalier Servante'! I am your channel Don. You will be able to feel me, that is all.

Then you should use your imagination and your vocabulary to describe what you feel. That is the only mystery. The window between imagination and reality is a mirror.

Pure thought, pure abstract imagination created the physical universe out of a quantum singularity, a point of infinity. This creation became mirrored as the left side of the imagination and the right side of the physical reality, relative to how you perceive it. You can think of it as debits or negative numbers on the left and credits or positive numbers on the right. So the Zero becomes the mirror. Or you can call it the 12th dimension on the left, the 10th dimension on the right and the 11th dimension at the zero point, the quantum singularity.

So Don and Sancho; the world you live in is reality of the 10th dimension.

The world, where it all came from is the imagination of the 12th dimension.

The problem for the 12th is the fact that to create the 10th as a physically real or nonimaginary reality, part of the 12th got lost in your world so to say.

Effectively, half of the original imagination of the creating energy got lost in your physical reality and the imaginator desires it back rather urgently.

The continuance of our world depends on getting it back, this lost fantasy stuck in physical reality. It is like a male piece of the whole has lost its female mate.

So what we are asking you to do, is to act the lost half and by your living the creator of your own world lose half of your reality. This means, that the world of your reality will think you crazy.

But you or the two of you or anyone else who can play the game and help us, will have to do just that. There is no easy way out.

As the Now is the mirror between reality and imagination and just as your image in a physical mirror is a fact; only the doing things in the Now can heal the big rift and close the great divide between creator and creation, between imagination and reality.

Living and acting in a real world, but presuming exactly half of that reality is actually imaginary; will allow the mirror to reflect half of you imagined reality back into the 12th dimension of pure fantasy. You see in the real world you still have imagination, but you call this imagination unreal, relative to your physical perceptions.

But that's the bit we desire, your so called fantasies. Your imagination becmes real and your reality a dream.

But to give it to us, you need to live in the reality as though it were a dream, unreal relative to you, yet consensus reality to most.

So you will see faces in the rocks and you can name them. You will see spaceships in the clouds and be able to concoct stories about their comings and their goings. You will see devils and monsters, where other people see towers and caves and mountains; Angels and fairies and leprechauns, you'll see them all.

You will see love in people, where others see crime and hatred and fear.

You will begin to feel the pains of the creation, the cries of the trees, the mumblings of the mountains and the calls of the animals in birth and in death.

Well Don and Sancho, you shall feel all of those things and much more with your mind, that is the mystery. You will find your heart a thinking lovemind and your mind a feeling loveheart, such is the reflection.

Our queen is held hostage by the lord of the windmill devils. It's name is Fatherlie and our queen is known as Sophia.

Should you succeed to separate the Fatherlie and Sophia, then you will have split the fake image from the wisdom of the world and then Sophia will be able to escape the underworld and return to the overworld. There is a special dispensation for all heroes, which participate in Sophia's rescue mission.

Our queen has decreed, that every hero shall gain her hand in marriage and become king in her kingdom. You see Don and Sancho; our queen is wisdom personified as creation. So the hero's reward is to gain Sophia's wisdom, personified in a beloved; a queen for every king.

As your imagination channel, I know of your love for Dulcinea, a dream beloved in your mind. You shall find a real Dulcinea in a princess of your reality and so will Sancho meet his beloved.

I shall leave you now. Prepare well my friends. Beware of Fatherlie.

It is the master of deception and utilises things like your pride and selfesteem to thwart your endeavours. To fight Fatherlie, you will suffer humiliation, physical pain, emotional anguish and mental despair.

You will be laughed at as fools and called arrogant and stupid and many will dismiss you as hopeless dreamers or selfdeluded idiots.

Good-Bye, until we meet again. This is Cavalier Servante'."

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Don Quixote paused and took a long sip from his bottle of Cadizian ale, he had held grasped in his hand throughout his monologual experience.

"What can you make of it Sancho? Seems like we have to visit the windmills and see what awaits us there. But I do like that bit about Dulcinea. Gee, I really would like to get married and live like a family man one day."

"Yeah Don. Me too. I have always liked little Pasqualina down in the provinces. But she's from a rich family, wine merchants. I could never ask for her hand as poor Sancho Panza; but as hero I could and I think she likes me. If I just had more than I do; property, money and social status.

So I'm all for it. Even if I do not understand all this reality and imagination bit. Do you understand that Don?", asked Sancho.

"Kind of Sancho. I'm pretty well read, erudite on philosophy and that sort of thing.

This reality around us is made up of what the majority of people call real and measurable things in space and time, objects and things to touch and perceive with the senses; like the ale bottle in your hand, this verandah and my old and loyal mare Rosinante and your faithful crippled dog Benjamin.

But Sancho, there is also the dreamworld of fantasy, fairy tales and strange phenomena, which the majority of people do not take serious at all. They call those imaginary worlds of ghosts and demons, giants and witches, magic and childishness.

Our quest is to switch the two perceptions around. To see this masterdevil Fatherlie to be specific, at the place of the windmills. Somehow, I don't know yet how, we'll see something where other people see nothing at all or windmills at most.

But let us make preparations. I'll saddle Rosinante with provisions for us and you still have Jose', your old donkey still in your stables, have you not?", asked Don Quixote.

"Yes Don; Jose' is still alive. He's getting on now, but he'll like a trip, to move around a bit, as long as we take it slowly. But I am worried about Benjamin. He's getting very lame and can't walk either very fast or very long.

And he'll fret without me. Who'll look after him without me?", replied Sancho Panza.

"Never mind Sancho. We just take Benjamin with us. I've got a carriage basket, which I can tie onto Rosinante. Benji can travel in that!", Don replied reassuredly.

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And so Don Quixote and Sancho Panza prepared themselves to go into battle for the imaginary world; to follow their dream of happiness and chivalry and a hero's honour in the form of a double-wedding between Don and Dulcinea and between Sancho and Pasqualina.

Jose', the wrecked donkey and the crippled dog Benjamin were going to be the best of men and the honour of the maidens belonged to loyal mare Rosinante and another lady yet to be determined.

Following an ordinary sleepful night, Don and Sancho set off to the place of the windmills to face the invisible; Fatherlie, kidnapper of the wisdom of the world; Sophia, queen of the imaginary shadow-people of the 12th dimension.

The place of the windmills was a day's journey from Don Quixote's villa. It was a populated area, with many farmers and toilers of the field working together to edge out a living for themselves and their local communities.

The predominant trade was one of milling the grains of the land to produce flour by milling the wheat and other cereals by grinding the grains between millstones and sieving the ground meal to grade the various flours.

The energy to power the grain was supplied by millstones grinding against one another under the action of a turning shaft, rotating by the movement of oblique blades radiating from the shaft at the front of the windmills. The strength of the winds so determined the speed of the shaft's rotation and so the progress of the milling work. The energy of the winds so became transformed into mechanical work.

Don Quixote rode upon Rosinante with Sancho Panza upon Jose' the old donkey next to him. Benjamin, the crippled dog was squatting in a carrying basket, dangling from Rosinante's left side.

"Hey Don, do we need any weapons to fight those devils? We haven't got any with us at the moment", asked Sancho turning to Don.

"I've thought of that too", replied Don.

"Not far from here is Martinez's Inn. I've heard that Martinez is a returned soldier. He's fought for the king of Espaniola long ago, when royal bloodlines separated the rulers from the common classes. Martinez has travelled far and is thought to have a collection of battle-proven, even mysterious weapons. Up there Sancho; that oakwooden dwelling is Martinez's place. Let us rest there and make some enquiries."

After comforting Rosinante with some hay and water and offering the same to Jose'; Don and Sancho and Benjamin introduced themselves to Martinez the innkeeper and weapon collector.

Sitting around one of the guest tables; Benji underneath, chewing on a juicy bone, compliments of Martinez, Don explained their quest.

"Strange story this", said Martinez." "But it is not for me to question motives for battle. I'm an old hand, a warrior of the finest class. I've fought at Gibraltar, in Ethiopia and in Libya. Come to think of Africa. In one of the Hannibalean battles I took part; there did I meet this merchant and he was very eager to get rid of a certain lance, a magnificent work of art really.

But this merchant, I recall his name as Thothanubis, he said that lance was cursed. It was just after the last battle, when we decimated the Hannibaleans in the battle of Gizeh. Thothanubis was very eager to get away, to India, Tibet, he said and so he gave me this lance for nothing; but warned me not to sell it for any price.

He said, that selling or trading this weapon would unlock the gates of all the hells, so great was the cursing on it. The only way it could be used, was to give it free of charge for the purpose of a noble quest or something like that.

Now your story of battling it out with some unseen enemy to rescue an invisible queen called wisdom sounds very crazy to me, but this is honourable alright and I've got this feeling deep inside, that it is ok to give you two this mysterious weapon. Let me get it from my collector's items."

Martinez left Don and Sancho to the ales and food , he had provided and returned with a long, coloured and segmented lance, made of ebony wood and a bronzen handle. Placing the weapon in front of his guests, the Lance of Cleopatra glistened in the sunlight shining into his inn.

"There are strange encodings on it, a foreign language, hieroglyphics or something. Probably to do with that curse, but Cleopatra was a queen of Egypt, that much I can read. That's why I've called it Cleopatra's Lance", said Martinez.

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The Lance was a collection of ten ebonite pieces, each piece able to fit with any other as cyclindrical tubes. The inscriptions read as:

1. Black Segment: Cubiscum Maria Matris Infinitas ad 0;

2. Brown Segment: Terrestris Urielio Antonius Pollux ad 30;

3. Red Segment: Tetrahedrium Leonina Rosa Libidos ad 60;

4. Orange Segment: Ignistii Michaelus Douggis Oggero ad 90;

5. Yellow Segment: Dodecahedro Sarona Catharina Libertatis ad 120;

6. Green Segment: Icosahedrii Dorothea Iunia Amobilis ad 150;

7. Cyan Segment: Aerius Gabrielis Alanus Castor ad 180;

8. Blue Segment: Aquarius Raphaelii Hariolus Heia as 240;

9. Magenta Segment: Octahedra Paulina Anna Formosus ad 300;

10. White Segment: Lancea Vanitas Vica Potae Cleopatra ad 360.

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"Well, I just hope our Cavalier Servante' can help us to decipher all of that", exclaimed Sancho, looking at Donato Quixote.

"Hmm, the words are an ancient code, which I have come across before in my philosophical studies. But I can't interpret it yet. The colours are complementary colours and rainbow colours too. Red and Green and Blue make White and Yellow and Cyan and Magenta mixed together give you Black. Red and Yellow gives Orange and Red and Black makes Brown. Also it starts with Black and ends in White and that is like an interchange of mixed clours in paint and in light as the complements. The numbers at the end are just the going around a circle, starting at 0 degrees and ending there after one revolution of 360 degrees.

I'm sure that is what that means. So you can look at this lance as something straight and yet somehow being like a circle with no beginning nor end", explained Don Donato Quixote, the philosopher.

"It's all yours my friends. I wish you luck in your battles. I would feel honoured, should my present ennoble your quest", said Martinez.

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Don and Sancho had decided to move on and after thanking their host for his generosity; the foursome travelled again, slowly, towards the valley of the windmills, now just a few hours of walking pace away.

A short while later, Don Quixote suddenly stopped Rosinante in her gait.

"Sancho, it's here again. Less aprupt than before. I'm getting used to it by now I guess.

Yes, I'm Cavalier Servante'. The lance you have found is a magical weapon of antiquity. It has ten parts, because it got nine lives to mend itself. Nine parts can you lose in battle to enter the deciding fight with just one piece left. It will then become a duel to the death. Every battle will weaken the magic weapon, but strengthen the enemy. So great courage is required to continue the war.

Like a Russian doll, the lance without an aim gets smaller as the hero comes nearer the lord of the devils. The first devil is called Beelzebub Minoris, antiid of the ego; the ninth devil is named Beelzebub Majoris, id of the antiego. The tenth devil is Fatherlie, encompassing them all, lord of the windmill devils. Defeat Fatherlie and Sophia, queen of wisdom is free. Destroying Fatherlie obliterates the last part of Cleopatra.

Even the bronzen handle will be no more. In its place you shall find and abandoned black kitten, the familiar of queen Cleopatra. But it is a long haul, a tiring siege even to come near Fatherlie. He's a master of deceit and will apply all his minions mercilessly to destroy your resolve to carry on in your arduous quest for liberty and freedom.

The second devil is Belial, the soul-squeezer, but the elemental earth can help you upon alliance to the heavenly queen. One heavenly queen and four princesses and four princes can join you, one by one, should you show faithfulness in defeat and indomitability of your spirit to trust in love against the odds and a devilish kingdom eager too crush you into the dust as the laughing stock of the entire world.

I shall leave you now as the window to your imagination. Prepare well for your first battle against Beelzebub Minoris. My love remains. I am Cavalier Servante', your unlimited creative imagination."

-------------

Don Quixote relaxed again in Rosinante's saddle.

"Whew, Sancho. Where is all this information coming from. How did I make up those names for the devils? I must have read about those names someplace before. Yes, that's what it is. This window thing is like my subconscious memory. All the things, this data coming into my mind is stored as often forgotten labels, names, places. But I've never known how many undiscovered things are in my mind; my imaginations, my fantasies," exclaimed a somewhat baffled Don Quixote.

"I do not know how you do it Don," said Sancho Panza, 'but I surely wish I could find my own window and tap all this stuff in my own memory."

"You've got to start reading books and study the worlds, Sancho. That is how you get the vocabulary and the raw data about things", replied Don Quixote, the student of life.

"Guess you're right Don. Once I start I'll probably never stop this learning. I've heard that Pasqualina often visits the libraries. She'll probably has her own Cavalier Servante' like you. I'd better start to educate myself to keep up with you two."

"Life itself is the best teacher, Sancho. You just need to be aware of things and think about just what you experience. But books are a great help, because you must visualise the things you read about to make sense out of them. Yeah Sancho, when our honorouble futures crystallize, then there will be eight of us in four bodily manifestations. Dulcinea and Pasqualina with their Sophias and you and me with our Cavalier Servante's".

"There are the windmills Don. And look at the many people working. This is a busy place, like a market," said Sancho pointing towards the valley of the windmills spreading out before them.

"This big windmill on that hill gives me the creeps, Sancho", replied Don. "And yes I do count 9 smaller ones, around the big one. We have arrived in hell my friend.

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"But I can't see any devils Don. Only windmills and the people all seem very normal. Working and laughing and swearing and doing things. Where are the devils Don? I can't see or feel any at all."

"Don't be deceived Sancho. Of course you can't see any devils. But I can feel them alright. And the master devil is in that big windmill alright. There is Fatherlie, laughing at us, pointing his claws at you and me, no it's just me now and he says he is going to have our selfesteem for breakfast, our pride in ourselves for lunch and our sanity for dinner.

Look at me Sancho, I'm shaking, not because of fear, but my nerves are getting at me, because I can feel the evil energy emanating."

Don Quixote dismounted from Rosinante to stop his legs from shaking. Don had seen Fatherlie in all his glory; not with his physical eyes, but the imaginary vision had been very clear and unambiguous indeed. Fatherlie was as big as the windmill and his power derived from the rotation of the angled four blades, which supplied the mechanical energy to the millstones from the gentle breeze which was blowing across the valley of the windmills.

"Sancho, we'll have to somehow stop the devils power by interfering with the movement of the blades. Just momentarily halting the rotation of the main supply shaft, will end the windenergy to be used by the devils for their evil purposes. Stopping the mechanics of the millstones will end the transformation of air energy into earth energy. So we'll shortcircuit the hellish circle. When the rotation restarts, the evil presence will have gone and the windmill's energies can be used by the angels."

"But why is this energy evil in the first place?", asked Sancho.

"Because that's the curse, based on fundamental principles. I just know, without understanding it yet. It's elemental, somehow bringing opposites together, like earth and water or air with fire. But you see this small windmill down at the right. This is Beelzebub Minoris. Get ready for attack Sancho. I have Cleopatra. I shall charge at him, with you backing me up," replied Don Quixote, rising Cleopatra and with Rosinante pacing.

Old Rosinante was huffing and puffing as she tried to comply with Don Quixote's urgings to gallop faster than her old legs and heart allowed. With Cleopatra's Lance pointing straight forward; the duo stampeded past a variety of onlookers, which had stopped their various activities to watch the comic procession of the worn out mare with her knightly rider pass by.

And was this not a dog swinging violently in a basket hanging from the old mare's saddle?

And now there was an ancient looking donkey following behind, with a rustic short man on top.

What was going on? Is someone playing a joke or is some sly director shooting a film, a sort of comedy?

"This clown is heading straight for Manuel's windmill. He's going to get hurt! , screamed a nameless voice out of the crowd. More and more onlookers were coalescing in clusters, groups, to discuss this strange occurrence in the valley of the windmills.

Don Quixote was now only a short distance away from Manuel's windmill. It's four blades were rotating at what was known as fair speed, about 7 revolutions per minute; as Cleopatra hit one of them.

Don Quixote lost his grip on the Lance; the shear force of his forward momentum twisted him sidewise and in a magnificent somersault, Don Quixote catapulted through the air to land painfully in a pitch, set aside for collecting fermenting compost.

Next to the windmill stood Manuel's chalet, being the windmill keeper's cabin. Manuel had just come out of the entrance to his chalet to witness Don Quixote's uncermonious acrobatics. Manuel reached out to help Don out of the ditch.

"My dear Sir. What are you doing in my compost field? Did you get hit by a windmill blade? It is rather dangerous to go near them", asked the windmill keeper.

"This is hard to explain. Thank you for helping me. I could have fallen even harder, were it not for the softness of your pitch", replied Don Quixote.

Don explained his deed to Manuel. Sancho had arrived to collect old Benjamin, which had also been thrown out of his basket and Sancho had calmed down Rosinante, which had found herself in a very confused state. What was Don up to, Rosinante thought in horsetalk; he's never done anything like that before.

"My dear Sir. There is no devil in my windmill!", protested Manuel.

"But I've seen him, grinning at me, as I approached him. And wait, let me check something out", replied Don.

Don Quixote stepped on to pick up Cleopatra, laying near the entrance to Manuel's cabin.

Sancho had introduced Don and himself formally to Manuel, as Don returned with a big grin on his face.

"This is Manuel, Don. I have introduced ourselves!", explained Sancho.

"And I've killed Beelzebub Minoris, Sancho, Manuel. I was right. I know, because the black part of Cleopatra's Lance is shattered. That means that the angel of the id of the ego has overpowered the antiid of the ego and so the first principality of the devil kingdom. Ha, I don't feel the bruising any more. We won the first battle Sancho".

Manuel was standing there scratching his head and ever so gently shaking it, gazing knowingly at Sancho. Sancho hmmd.

"Don is well read Manuel. He's studied many things. He normally knows exactly what he is talking about. It's this reality and imagination conflict of course. That's what Don says."

"We have an excellent medical practitioner here Sancho. Maybe your friend has caught a little too much sun. You have travelled for a while and the climate can get hot in the valley, what with all those westerly winds around here. It would be no surprise to catch something like a cold or a bug."

"Manuel, I'm as rational and clearheaded and well as can be", interjected Don Quixote. "When Cleopatra hit the blade of your windmill; it stopped the rotation of the main shaft, even if for the minutest moment. Can't you see, that then the evil heart of Beelzebub Minoris also ended to beat, causing him to die a devil's death in a heart attack - cardiac arrest?"

"No my dear Don Donato. I certainly can't see that. You are having a vivid attack of the fantasy bends, implying there are devils living in my windmill. There are definitely no devils in my windmill. I should know. I have lived here for 20 years and have been the windmill's operator for 13 of those years. In times past, I have repaired the windmill's blades and generally maintained the operation of this windmill. I've never come across any devils in whatever shape or form," Manuel said agitatedly.

"There was only one devil and he is no more. The angel of the true identity has taken over and from now on your windmill is no longer cursed", explained Don Quixote.

'Well everything is alright then", said Sancho Panza in a relieved tone of voice. "Let's leave it there. No harm was done, except to the devil maybe. Don we should look after Rosinante, Jose' and Benjamin; they had quite an unusual experience you know."

"You're right Sancho. Will you excuse us please Manuel. We do apologise for causing you disturbance. But certain things just require to be done," agreed Don Quixote.

"Good-bye Sancho and Don. I shall try to explain to the folks around here what has happened," said Manuel preparing to talk to his fellow community dwellers, which were still looking on in groups, eager for an exposition on the strange events, they had witnessed.

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As the foursome gathered, Don winked to Sancho and said: "Sancho this quest is going to require a lot of strategy. There are not only devils in the windmills, but in people too. Manuel had a minor devil, making him so sceptical. It was a pride devil. Us seeing the devil of the windmill and not him, after living here for so long, made him a little angry, as his integrity was being challenged."

"I didn't see any devil either Don, only you claim to have seen one".

"I know Sancho. This is going to be a spot of trouble one day. But don't worry we'll work it out with help of Cavalier Servante'."

"That might be so Don. I am worried though, that people here are going to get upset, if we keep on attacking their windmills. Manuel seemed to be a peaceloving and gentle man to me."

"That's why we must plan every move from now on. There are at least 9 more master devils to confront. And I have this feeling that the first victory was the easy battle. It will get harder and harder from now on. And we have lost the surprise element. The people here now will be suspicious towards us. They might even ask us to leave. Any ideas Sancho?"

"Let me think Don. We could attack the next devil at night; or we could pretend to leave."

"We'll need the surprise again Sancho. We must do the unexpected. Yeah, I've got an idea. Let's play it cool and find a place to rest, to spend the night. We can make enquiries. Maybe there are more isolated windmills we can battle first."

"Will you charge at all the windmills like you did before?", asked Sancho Panza.

"Only as a last resort Sancho. Somehow the Lance of Cleopatra must be used to stop the smooth rotation of the windmill blades. Maybe we can devise alternative methods. But charge I will; if I must. I am going to find my Dulcinea in rescuing Queen Sophia!"

Sancho sighed: "Yes, I can't wait to stand in front of Pasqualina as her hero either."

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Don Quixote and Sancho Panza found suitable accomodation with provisions for their fourlegged friends. They had become the talk of the locals by now and evening had arrived in the Windmiller's Inn, where Don and Sancho had found residence for the night.

The colloquial atmosphere in the inn was electric. For some reason, the inn was filled to capacity. People which hardly went out for a quiet drink or a bite to eat, had decided to go out tonight.

"They are checking us out", whispered Sancho. "I've heard someone call us the mad windmill attackers from the north".

"I do understand Sancho. Come let us introduce ourselves to that elderly lady over there in the corner. She is sitting all alone. I'll ask her some pertinent questions", replied Don Quixote.

"Good evening Ma'am. May we allow ourselves to share your company? I am Don Donato Quixote of La Mancha and this is my friend Sancho Panza. We are travellers from the north of Espaniola?"

"You're welcome strangers. I am Maria, the local herbalist. I know about cures and sickness of the mind. The plants are my friends and the minerals. I've come here to check out a couple of crazy visitors, I've heard are out to fight devils in windmills. So you are the two! I make up my own mind about things. Can I feel your hands Don? I have healing hands. I'll know if you are mentally deluded or not by just touching you. My sacred acorns will tell me."

Maria grabbed Don's hands as both he and Sancho sat down around the herbalist's table.

"Hmm, you have a very strong nervous energy Donato. I would say, that there is definitely something the matter with you."

"I am fine Maria! It's just that I can feel the unseen worlds. I only see it in my imagination and not physically at all."

"No no Don; I didn't imply either a physical or a mental malady. What the matter with you is, is indeed very familiar to me. My dear Don Quixote; you are hopelessly in love with someone. This is the strength of the vibrations which I feel."

"Yeah, it's the lady in my dreams, Dulcinea. I haven't found her yet. I do not even know what she looks like; but I'll know when I meet her."

"The love for the unseen can become like an obsession. It also is the only way true spiritual love can become manifested in the physical reality of the body and the senses. A prince creates the princess in his mind and then projects this dream into the real world and the lady which can match her dream of her prince with the prince's projection will become the queen for the king. That is the natural way things are to be, the law for all. Even the flowers and the fauna obey that law of nature. I should know. I have lived in that law all of my life and many others."

"Maria, you might be able to help us", said Don Quixote.

"I'm glad we talked. I feel most people here just will not understand what our quest is all about. May I explain our endeavour?"

Maria nodded knowingly and Don and Sancho explained their adventures hitherto. About the imaginary Don and Cavalier Servante' and the Lance of Cleopatra and the devils holding captive the wisdom of the worlds in Queen Sophia.

"A most noble deed my friends; and yet so magnificently irrational. It is so unlikely to succeed; that it has no option but to succeed if the auspices and elemental energies harmonise just right. I shall try to help you. I am well established here. I know the valley of the windmills like no other resident. For 54 years, I have lived near the adjoining woods, the meadows and the hills and the river El Nino' winding itself through this valley.

My cabin of Oakwood is suitable in the eastern corner of the valley. Three windmills are nearby; one of them abandoned, derelict. The other two windmills are operational. They are worked by two families; one the Feliciano's and the other the Ramirez's. Alfonso Ramirez and his wife Mariquita are away to visit Mariquita's parents in the west.

If you like, you two can visit me tomorrow at Oakwood East, right next to El Nino' and plan your next step under my hospitality", ended Maria.

"Thank you Maria and mucho gracias. We shall accept your offer. Sancho?", asked Don Quixote.

Sancho Panza nodded and said: " I just had a brilliant idea Don, about our next move. There's no need for you to charge at the devils anymore; because when I was a little boy; I've learned something."

"What was that Sancho?"

"Aye, Amigo", said Sancho exhuberantly; "I've learned how to build a catapult."