TROZ DULARIANOS
ARTIST OF THE LORREEN CRUZK COMMEMORATIVE BANKNOTES
The Missing Eight Days
The Missing Eight Days
Troz Dularianos was born in 4922 on Termin-Station Fetzia above the planet Applious Gostay (OKg MS P6) where the mining company Silvopus employed his Mother and Father, Poza and Borci Dularianos. At an early age, Troz showed an artistic ability and his parents encouraged his gift. For the next 9 years, the mining operation was his home and he honed his art skills but also excelled in the classic studies as well. This was partially attributed to the lack of other children around to distract him from his studies. He was in an excellent evniroment for learning until his parent’s ended their contracts and took Troz back home to Blissdane Naïve. He went home with a head start and a mind full of knowledge and ready for the University.
Troz excelled as expected, until the third year of his higher learning when an event occurred that is still unexplained. Suddenly and mysteriously, Troz went missing. His friends were unsure where he was and his parents knew nothing. They worried and panicked and had private security firms searching for him. There were no clues and some of his friends were dragged in by the authorities and were questioned brutally. Foul play was suspected as there were no other explanations.
This went on until the eighth day when he just showed up, without any explanation. He was questioned by the authorities, friends, family but gave no answers. He told no one where he was or if he was in danger. It was a mystery Troz kept to himself which got him into some trouble but in the end, there was no harm done and all was forgotten.
It wouldn't be until after Troz's death that his journal would be made public, revealing the mysterious account of his disappearance. What follows is his entry a day after returning:
“I was working on the very intricate and remarkable Trivet Doctrine, a brilliant piece by Professor Gowst Trivet explaining his time travel equations, formulas and solutions. My mind was very deuxplane as I read the verse regarding the multiple definitions of time; expanding, stagnant, reversed, interloping, to name a few. Interloping, confused me and I thought surely the word was being used improperly. I thought on this for many days and nights. All my energy was used on this idea and I thought on it until one night my weary mind began to feel nonexistent. A heavy fatigue blanketed me and I was certain I was beginning to vanish. A rippling at my skin started to crackle and I could see myself fading. I heard voices and felt the presence of many people swirling about me. The last I felt was that I was moving from light to unlight. Not darkness but another form of light, which I could not see or imagine. And then it stopped.
An amazing blue sky was above me partially blocked by wonderfully tall trees of a green so true it seemed a lie. I could hear voices. They were concerned. Then a young man in a white vest with a black bow tie appeared over me. “Sir, are you alright?” He asked and helped me up. Well-dressed people stood looking at me with queer wonderment on their faces. It was most likely my attire, which was not as theirs, that gave them pause. Looking about my new surroundings I concluded I was at a garden party. Then someone appeared that I did recognize. It was Professor Trivet. I’d seen his photo in many journals. I deduced immediately that I had somehow reappeared at a tea party in the garden of Mr. and Mrs. Gowst Trivet. I interloped on his time. Or I was dreaming.
I stood and wobbled a bit, held firmly by the young attendant. Professor Trivet then approached me. ”Do I know you, Sir?” He asked me. I was a bit in fear of what I should say but decided to speak, as only he would understand. I apologized and said, “I fear I have interloped upon your garden party.” This seemed to pluck a chord of familiarity with him, as was my intention. He then looked me over paying particular attention to my attire, which, as I have stated, was not of the day’s manner. Professor Trivet then nodded to the server to return to his post and took me by my arm. “Everything is well,” he said to his guests and then walked me away from the crowd and toward a small lake, which sat marvelously behind his grand home.
“Are you mocking me young man?” he got directly to the point. He then stopped and faced me. He was as serious as one could be under the circumstances. I mustered all the wits within me. “Sir, My name is Troz Dularianos. I am from the year 4943 and I was reading your paper on time travel when I began to ponder your interloping theory and pondered beyond what my mind regarded a safe restraint. It would appear I pondered myself upon your time. I can’t say how I accomplished this but my mind is not right. I am beginning to sense cubes of gaps within my thinking.” I awaited his response but none came so I continued. “I must admit that for many nights and days I have been reading your theories on time travel and I fear I have either achieved your interloping temporal jump or I am in the midst of a fantastic dream.”
He breathed and considered me for what seemed an hour until finally he spoke. “It is the year 1588 and I have not composed my paper on time travel theories. Who are you and whom do you work for?” At that moment three peace Officers arrived and restrained me . “This man has intruded onto my property. Please have him removed,” Professor Gowst said to the Officers. I tried pleading with Professor Gowst. “Sir, I assure you I am telling you the…” I then felt a queer sensation coming on and started to feel myself disappearing again. I could not stop it. I could see the three Officers back away from me with looks of horror upon their faces. The last thing I saw was the shock and amazement on Professor Trivet’s face.
I awoke in my room. A heavy fatigue surrounded me as if I could feel the nothing swirling around me and connecting with my own energy. The cubes of gaps in my mind remained. I was uncertain of things and feared I only dreamed the entire episode. The mysterious matter is that of the time. Believing I slept but a few minutes, upon checking the time it turned out that a week had past. I lost approximately eight days.
I write this for record but agreed with myself to reveal my experience to no one.
End Entry...
Troz continued his higher learning, attempting to direct his focus anew toward the science of physics. He failed miserably. His behavior became erratic and somewhat comical. He could not focus on his studies and was left to finish his degree in art. Sadly, his mind would never be the same after the eight missing days but never lost his artistic ability. Some of his friends and family insisted his artistic ability sharpened after his eight missing days.
After his higher learning ended, Troz was employed as an artist by the West Junee Monetary Reserve. The year was 4958 when he was given the task of designing the Commemorative Spatny, a currency that would circulate West Junee for another 15 years, seeing only minor adjustments in that time. When asked why he chose the Earth’s dragonfly to place on the obverse of the notes, he was quoted as saying, “The Dragon breathes fire. So shall our Spatny.” Although Troz possessed a great artistic eye, he knew little of Earth’s facts and myths. His second choice was what he called, “Earth’s Delicatessen”, the Rooster. This made many critics question his state of mind, to which he replied, “I’ve seen the gaseous planet, Dahdaydee Fremapae G. and smelled her odor. These critical felshy types bother me none.” He would war with the public over his gaffes for years. Despite these trivialities, his design was well received and to this day is passionately admired by many.
(A new theory has emerged as to why he chose the dragonfly. See the West Junee story.)
Troz Dularianos would be honored if you would add some to your collection.
Available in our Shop.
Troz excelled as expected, until the third year of his higher learning when an event occurred that is still unexplained. Suddenly and mysteriously, Troz went missing. His friends were unsure where he was and his parents knew nothing. They worried and panicked and had private security firms searching for him. There were no clues and some of his friends were dragged in by the authorities and were questioned brutally. Foul play was suspected as there were no other explanations.
This went on until the eighth day when he just showed up, without any explanation. He was questioned by the authorities, friends, family but gave no answers. He told no one where he was or if he was in danger. It was a mystery Troz kept to himself which got him into some trouble but in the end, there was no harm done and all was forgotten.
It wouldn't be until after Troz's death that his journal would be made public, revealing the mysterious account of his disappearance. What follows is his entry a day after returning:
“I was working on the very intricate and remarkable Trivet Doctrine, a brilliant piece by Professor Gowst Trivet explaining his time travel equations, formulas and solutions. My mind was very deuxplane as I read the verse regarding the multiple definitions of time; expanding, stagnant, reversed, interloping, to name a few. Interloping, confused me and I thought surely the word was being used improperly. I thought on this for many days and nights. All my energy was used on this idea and I thought on it until one night my weary mind began to feel nonexistent. A heavy fatigue blanketed me and I was certain I was beginning to vanish. A rippling at my skin started to crackle and I could see myself fading. I heard voices and felt the presence of many people swirling about me. The last I felt was that I was moving from light to unlight. Not darkness but another form of light, which I could not see or imagine. And then it stopped.
An amazing blue sky was above me partially blocked by wonderfully tall trees of a green so true it seemed a lie. I could hear voices. They were concerned. Then a young man in a white vest with a black bow tie appeared over me. “Sir, are you alright?” He asked and helped me up. Well-dressed people stood looking at me with queer wonderment on their faces. It was most likely my attire, which was not as theirs, that gave them pause. Looking about my new surroundings I concluded I was at a garden party. Then someone appeared that I did recognize. It was Professor Trivet. I’d seen his photo in many journals. I deduced immediately that I had somehow reappeared at a tea party in the garden of Mr. and Mrs. Gowst Trivet. I interloped on his time. Or I was dreaming.
I stood and wobbled a bit, held firmly by the young attendant. Professor Trivet then approached me. ”Do I know you, Sir?” He asked me. I was a bit in fear of what I should say but decided to speak, as only he would understand. I apologized and said, “I fear I have interloped upon your garden party.” This seemed to pluck a chord of familiarity with him, as was my intention. He then looked me over paying particular attention to my attire, which, as I have stated, was not of the day’s manner. Professor Trivet then nodded to the server to return to his post and took me by my arm. “Everything is well,” he said to his guests and then walked me away from the crowd and toward a small lake, which sat marvelously behind his grand home.
“Are you mocking me young man?” he got directly to the point. He then stopped and faced me. He was as serious as one could be under the circumstances. I mustered all the wits within me. “Sir, My name is Troz Dularianos. I am from the year 4943 and I was reading your paper on time travel when I began to ponder your interloping theory and pondered beyond what my mind regarded a safe restraint. It would appear I pondered myself upon your time. I can’t say how I accomplished this but my mind is not right. I am beginning to sense cubes of gaps within my thinking.” I awaited his response but none came so I continued. “I must admit that for many nights and days I have been reading your theories on time travel and I fear I have either achieved your interloping temporal jump or I am in the midst of a fantastic dream.”
He breathed and considered me for what seemed an hour until finally he spoke. “It is the year 1588 and I have not composed my paper on time travel theories. Who are you and whom do you work for?” At that moment three peace Officers arrived and restrained me . “This man has intruded onto my property. Please have him removed,” Professor Gowst said to the Officers. I tried pleading with Professor Gowst. “Sir, I assure you I am telling you the…” I then felt a queer sensation coming on and started to feel myself disappearing again. I could not stop it. I could see the three Officers back away from me with looks of horror upon their faces. The last thing I saw was the shock and amazement on Professor Trivet’s face.
I awoke in my room. A heavy fatigue surrounded me as if I could feel the nothing swirling around me and connecting with my own energy. The cubes of gaps in my mind remained. I was uncertain of things and feared I only dreamed the entire episode. The mysterious matter is that of the time. Believing I slept but a few minutes, upon checking the time it turned out that a week had past. I lost approximately eight days.
I write this for record but agreed with myself to reveal my experience to no one.
End Entry...
Troz continued his higher learning, attempting to direct his focus anew toward the science of physics. He failed miserably. His behavior became erratic and somewhat comical. He could not focus on his studies and was left to finish his degree in art. Sadly, his mind would never be the same after the eight missing days but never lost his artistic ability. Some of his friends and family insisted his artistic ability sharpened after his eight missing days.
After his higher learning ended, Troz was employed as an artist by the West Junee Monetary Reserve. The year was 4958 when he was given the task of designing the Commemorative Spatny, a currency that would circulate West Junee for another 15 years, seeing only minor adjustments in that time. When asked why he chose the Earth’s dragonfly to place on the obverse of the notes, he was quoted as saying, “The Dragon breathes fire. So shall our Spatny.” Although Troz possessed a great artistic eye, he knew little of Earth’s facts and myths. His second choice was what he called, “Earth’s Delicatessen”, the Rooster. This made many critics question his state of mind, to which he replied, “I’ve seen the gaseous planet, Dahdaydee Fremapae G. and smelled her odor. These critical felshy types bother me none.” He would war with the public over his gaffes for years. Despite these trivialities, his design was well received and to this day is passionately admired by many.
(A new theory has emerged as to why he chose the dragonfly. See the West Junee story.)
Troz Dularianos would be honored if you would add some to your collection.
Available in our Shop.
