St. Agnes Day

It was St Agnes Day and the women had come to the little chapel to pray for their fertility. Each of the three had wanted a child very badly - but so far their menses had continued and their cradles lay vacant.

Ralph looked endearingly at the men and in reading their questions he shook hands with them saying: "It will be better this time, I promise you".

Jobe shrugged. He still had no idea why life continually called him back into the land of the living. He was just getting used to being a spirit, and very happy with his companions.

"Boys" said Ralph with an energetic smile and flourish of his hands - "meet your mothers".

No sooner had he said this, all three vanished from where they had been standing....

"They will be good mothers", said Puck approvingly. “St Agnes will be glad."

"You must send her my best Robin, when you see her next."

"I'll be sure to" he said.

A moment later he was back in London, standing at the bedside of his sleeping Charlene, watching her as she dreamed peacefully her infant visions of Faerie.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

True Passion motivates the Life Forces

"It is not my place - nor has it ever been - to tell Nervina who or what to be." he said, almost to himself.

"Is it because of his disposition?" Sardonicus could feel the anger emanating from his boss. Puck hesitated. He rarely spoke of things of a personal nature - it was not done amongst their own.

"It has nothing to do with his key in what lock - but more with his bad choice of company.”

"Passion is to blame here though, don't you think?"

"No, not passion. True passion motivates the life forces and brings forth all things good. But it is desire perhaps moreover - for desire is the poor cousin to passion, ever hungry, and with no real result.

“Passion mediates the Heavens and its creatures therein; desire is the counterfeit hope, that tires itself in the longing.”

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Bad on the inside

"Nervina is dead."

"That can't be true."

"It is - it might as well be ... he is dead to me anyway."

Sardonicus looked concerned - Puck continued on:

"I want you to take his imprint from all of the locks and permissions. He is to have no access to any of the estates or communications. And, please, put an Elven alert out also, should he be seen in this region."

"What on heavenly earth are you talking about?" asked Sardonicus who was now more perturbed than ever. "Have the two of you had a falling out?"

"It’s nothing like that – it’s much more. You know how a tree can go bad from the inside but look perfectly stable until it falls? Well, his discernment has corrupted and he can no longer be trusted - he's gone bad on the inside...”

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Master Azlan

The timbre in his voice resounded a character of good quality. His richly clothed tones of resonantly painted words imparted only but a little of his sadness as he spoke.

"Master Azlan, what would you have us do?"

The great Lion closed his eyes as though he were resting them.

He could hear the future as it advanced, he could sense the destinies of men and saw the mountains erode with the seas washing over; he felt the mass, he heard the murmur, he saw the presence of the Holy and the true.

He condensed the wayward and sloughs of the irritant, he went to that silent place of all answers, and then, he knew. 

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

The Fey

Each one of the Fey are 'blue bloods'. Their lineages are pure and every one of them holds some kind of royal heritage.

They do not require oxygen to live and nor does it tire them; their memories go back before the Golden Age: when the Earth had a firm, tight, nubile body, and danced through the starry heavens like a new spinning top, giddy with youthful promise.

Their souls are noble, and contrary to worldly opinion, they are hard working and cautious - not rampant, erratic or frivolous - as so often portrayed.

There has been a good deal of alarmist propaganda about the Faery Kingdom over the ages, bolstered by the very real incongruity of skills between the mortals and that of their own.

And to be fair, ignorance and innuendo has played its part over time, within their being's thinking also ... where human virtues have been mostly overlooked and people, in their eyes, are judged to be infantile, erratic and frivolous also.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Naïvety

"Do you know who you are playing with?" he asked. The betrayal stung. Puck had had some vague hope that somehow Nervina had just been scouting around, staying close for information. This would have been a dangerous game, but worse still, he seemed genuinely in love."Next you will be blaming him for Atlantis. What is your problem?"

"You just do not get it, do you?" bit back Puck exasperated. "How many mortals has this demon tortured and killed - some he took over and consumed from the inside? Do you realize?"

"So a few died. They die anyway, and then they pop up again. What is the problem with them leaving early? Mark is a history shaper - and history always has its martyrs."

Puck felt the end of the conversation with this being said - there was going to be no way of getting through to Nervina. His insensitivity to the human condition and their suffering was commonplace amongst the Fey - they simply did not feel any of it. As for their own personal tributes to loss and suffering, such commemorating was done with a polished melancholy.

Puck preferred to think him as being innocent to the evil he was spouting; yet naive or not, his best friend was sleeping with the enemy, and there was nothing he could do or say to break that spell.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

The Nine Tails

Nervina looked sheepishly back at Puck - whose face was black as thunder - not literally of course but figuratively speaking. Puck reserved his tempers for only the most important of times and this he considered to be one of them.

He had nabbed Nervina outside a club that he and Forsythe would frequent on a Saturday night. In point of fact Forsythe owned this club amongst others - the Nine Tails - but had omitted to tell this to Nervina.

They stood outside near the entrance while drunken revellers pushed past them - one slinky youth stared amorously at Puck and then sauntered over to introduce himself daring to interrupt an already irate elf.

Puck pushed him aside and continued to shout abuse at Nervina - which no one could hear but themselves as the conversation was being managed with clairaudience.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Fluffy Rabbit

"I have a surprise for you Charles."

She went very quiet - the word 'surprise' generally meant a very good thing in her language - something worth opening your eyes for.

Puck produced a big pink bag tied at the top with a huge silver ribbon. She stuffed her hand into it and a cloud of iridescent butterflies flew out. Barely noticing them (for she had seen that trick a few too many times) she persisted until pulling out a floppy yet fluffy soft rabbit toy and the two were instantly friends.

Later that night when Charley had been safely transferred back into her little bed, the rabbit wriggled out of her grasp and stealthily checked out the room satisfying itself that the window latch was locked, he snuggled back into her arms falling fast asleep beside her.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Angels & Demons

"Are you saying that you are an Angel?"

"No, no ... no - no, not at all. Totally different - though a kinship we share. No, we are a parallel race to you mortals, save our life in your world is invisible to it, though you might see us from time to time in unusual circumstances. We are the Fey."

"A ghost?"

"No"

"A demon then?"

"No, but some of us can be troublemakers. Now getting back to wizards ... you see they can be very powerful because they work with the willing cooperation of those Fey who believe them to be worthy of their assistance in the first place."

He went on, "but you see magicians, on the other hand" he said, holding out his left hand, "never really seek to earn the affection of those they want something from - their tools are deceptive and are always seeking some sense of control. Illusion is key and reality of slim consequence, the magician has little care for anyone other than himself, and, is far more ill tempered too, you will find, than a true wizard. So what will it be? Which do you choose?"

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Wizard or Magician?

"Wizards work with us, magicians, on the other hand, try to control us - the question is: are you a wizard or a magician?"

"What exactly do you mean?"

"Well, you see, we like to be asked - not summoned, not told, not ordered around."

"Oh."

"For example: - There is a world of difference if you pray for an Angel's help or if you command that the Angel do as you bid. You would be surprised to learn how many dark and troubled mortals have sought to enslave and corrupt an Angelic being...”

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Be Man, be Agent, be God

Looking up Puck saw in the corner, a man dressed with calico robes, looking on at them with deep meaning. He spoke:

"Do as I have done
be Man, be Agent, be God.

"And never look back to the darkness behind you
- but see only forward.

"This light before you is inextinguishable,
it is my soul.

"Know Peace, and of this also:
the divine friendship of all
bonded in a perfect Grace
safe sealed with the oath of God ...
this, the eternal caul."

He vanished just as the healing was complete and the milk from the eyes had dissolved, whereupon the stranger most jubilantly pronounced to Puck,

"Brother, I am in service to you!"

To which Puck respectfully replied: "Go now Brother, and be in service from this day on, to all".

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Green Glass Bulb of Eyebright

Puck splashed his hands clean in a bowl; he was mixing tinctures when they came knocking at his door. Foresight had already beckoned - the Master had called upon his abilities for healing, bringing him into the sleeping city to be of service.

He quickly assessed the impatience and indifference from this man, who clumsily drew out a single coin to offer him, which Puck politely refused. He then questioned him briefly to elaborate his purpose awaiting its revelation.

Next, he asked the fellow's company to go wait outside, and guided the blind man to a wooden seat that creaked as he nervously idled from side to side.

In his left hand Puck held a pale green glass bulb of eyebright, and through his right the vitality effervesced supernaturally with a brilliance exceeding the sunlight in that room. Of course the stranger could not see the Fey man tend to him and the brilliance that he evoked.

Puck traced the cross ever gently over his tempered brow and this action soothed him.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

One Day in Damascus

The red cloths flapped in the hot fragrant winds of Damascus. Doors everywhere would be shut now until a whole day later, with not one soul to walk the roads or come and go, in trade or talk, the city was forced quiet and even the birds hushed with the anxiety that something different can bring.

Windows were covered, some, painted over and flags slung adorning the limestone mantles.

One stray puppy wobbled over the hot road - too young to know where to forage through the rubbish for food; and one old goat sported the hollow streets, sampling the pomegranates and blossoms that draped invitingly without sentinel.

A party of weary men straddled the road leading into the quietened city. One walked clumsily beside a mule, clutching to his side, as if to steady himself. He was not elderly but appeared insecure, stumbling like a novice to his sightlessness.

He was a tall man with large features and a long face. Although his robes were dust infested, one could see he wore a cloth of quality. 

The vacant streets had made it difficult for the visitors to find their way to the sanctuary they sought, and there was no one there to point the way.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Present & Past

Brogan stood watching Marley, who stood watching Charlene, as she slept.

She could not see him or even feel his presence - but he could see her, as if for the first time, in a very long time.

His memories had come back to him shortly after he had found himself on the battlefield of Basingstoke. His subtle bodies were intact now and his inner vision had revealed lives lived long before - bringing to him pictures of the associations he had made and fixed within his heart.

Here was the girl he had left behind on the Jerusalem hills. His cherished wife who had born him two sons - one that was to come into the world shortly after his death. He had not known that she had been pregnant with child on that fateful day of his passing.

There she was now, a mother again. He thought her features were similar to those he had loved so much before. The way she stood, even the way she talked, was as his beloved he had known.

He wanted to thank her, and remind her of those intimate times between them.

For the first time in a very long time, his forlorn ghost broke down and wept for himself and his loneliness.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Darius dies

"Wife" he said, "I cannot draw water, the ground here is too high, the rocks are impenetrable and it has been over a week's trying - I fear I fail."

A scorpion scuttled out from a crack in the ground towards Tyber. The little boy screamed. Darius picked up a stone and quickly crushed it.

"He asks for too much" he continued.

His sweetheart nodded. She genuinely loved her big husband and prayed daily to the Gods for his protection.

Quite suddenly his jaw pained, his chest ached, his left hand dropped the little sack of olives, and the bright light all around turned to dark.

With his wife and child holding him - in only just a handful of moments - his heart had stopped, and his body slumped back into their hold, unto death.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Digging for Wells

Darius poked the sand with a stick, the sun was at its hottest and his crew had retired into the shade to lie down and close their eyes for a time...

The morning had offered no progress, with two more wells dug - both ungiving. Fifteen in all were now failures.

The engineer in him had known from the outset just how fruitless this lot would be, but what was there to be done?

He kicked the ground unwittingly, and closed his eyes listening to the songs of prayer calling out from the town below.

As his mind gave way to the heat and the gentle chanting in the distance, he began to doze with bowed head. Moments later he was woken quickly from the sensation of a hand lightly falling upon his neck.

It was his little son Tyber, who had been running alongside his mother, and had out sped her walking up the hill. They had come to bring him a small cloth bag of olives and a pitcher of water that was revived with a little juice.

He took his snack gratefully and smiled at the two.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Turning Luminous Green

Puck glanced down at his sparkling water where Forsythe had spat and was disturbed to find that it had turned a luminous green - his saliva had reacted oddly with the drink apparently. He was glad that he had not drunk any of it.

Beings of Fey do not let anything go of themselves such as hair or saliva as Forsythe had just done. It can be used against them as the connections live on. Their mystical signature lives within those vital emissions, and even the breath carries ones character upon its vapours.

He tipped his drink onto the potted plant, which although only plastic still curled, drooped and keeled. A fine blue smoke came spiralling up from the pot.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Perfumery

"Robin, my old friend, I want to be on the same page transcribing history together. I think you have something in the perfumery that could rock this world again. Can I show you?"

Puck was doing his level best not to react - or even to think - he would have to save this for later.

"Very well" he said slowly.

"Very good" smiled Forsythe. "Come this way."

* * *

"The science is not my own - I had help of course...”

Puck looked across the room they had walked into, genuinely surprised to find that hotel suites could be this large and adapted to industrial means. There were thirty or so white coats enlisted there - all with heads down tapping data onto flat glass keyboards. One of the technicians caught his eye as they approached, and his heart sank all at once.

"Our Chief Technical Adaptor - I believe you know him?"

Puck did know him alright, or at least thought he had done ... it was Nervina.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Scanning back to early Atlantis

Forsythe looked steadily at him without drawing a breath and then continued - "we are much the same my friend", and, he paused dramatically to add -"obviously superior beings".

"We both know it - any fool could see it - our capabilities are next to no human: these impotent whingeing parasites with their candy floss philosophies - always trying to conceal countless inadequacies by positive impractical thinking. Mortals are unbearably, incredibly, tediously stupid - ranked just one above the Trolls and even so, the Trolls exceed most of their talents. What is there to be done to guide or coax them?"

Puck's mind scanned back to the era of early Atlantis - to a period of the Earth's evolution that was still very fresh within his recollection. That was a time when men's thoughts had been keener than they were today; their sciences were sharper and their clairvoyance was strong. The Kingdoms were aligned and worked cooperatively as one harmonious society until the dark Lords from the West had come. It was they who disrupted the finer societies with their impure ways and negligence. Without regard or conscience, the Golden Era was soon to tarnish and selfishness invade the lands.

With that had begun the first epidemic of true stupidity, where the skills of quick thinking and cognitive imagination pared back and the earth quaked under the very tension of it for centuries after.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Meeting Mark Forsythe

"Better get this over with" he said to Goober who was absorbed in a game of online scrabble, perplexed with a palette of just vowels.

"See ya then" he answered without looking up from his screen.

"Cheerio" said Puck, choosing a scarf from the stand - London was so cold at this time of the year.

Within the hour he was face to face with the formidable fellow. The scar had gone from his forehead and his face, though younger, bore an uncanny resemblance to the Sheriff Marc.

Although fine featured his countenance was brutal - with a smile that lacked happiness. He wore an enormous diamond stud in each earlobe.

The two sat in the room alone. A tray with mineral water was between them. Mark picked up a glass to hand to Puck and casually spat in it. He held it out to him with a smile, as though nothing had happened.

"It was going to be one of those days” Puck thought to himself wearily.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Sixth Scents

Etheric Essences was a collection of energetic perfumes, whose vitality superseded other potencies captured in the aromatic fluids.

Their oils were incredibly pure and strong, as the plants they had come from were grown in the original garden from the world's beginnings. Their properties were life reviving as well as delightfully scented.

Puck had worked to maintain Marley's business after the sales had dropped off; and he had decided to go with the best that he had. Once again he supplied the manufacturers, exchanging their synthetics with the distillations from the enchanted forest. He had sourced the principal oils through some very old contacts, and with the collection revived, the sales jumped high.

Some women who had been wearing Marley's creations and had found miraculous healings taking place: cancers had remissed; cataracts cleared; moles disappeared; hair replenished; arthritis melted from the joints; the infertile fell with child.

These twelve perfumes were now becoming independently tested for their properties and questions were being asked, as testimonies filled the blogs - suppliers had all but sold out.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Choosing of one's own Future Self

The Azlan began: "Selective forgetfulness is one of the greatest actions within the evolution of Man. Rarely spoken of because of its deep magic – being that it consists of forgetting even itself."

He paused here waiting for Puck to gauge the wisdom of this.

"Think for but a moment how many small engagements comprise a mortal's day - every breath inhaled, every small thought visited, every bodily movement, every word spoken - it is all forgotten so very quickly as they move yet ever onward throughout forward.

"They can be conscious of these small things but are quick to dismiss any lasting recollection of them. The sorting is fast, and is to the mortal a prime taskmaster who must decide what information is worth retaining, and what is not.

"This 'simple' process is at the very root of all the knowing to follow. As the soul gathers its experience throughout eons of encounters and travails, there will be only a portion of these experiences and wisdoms consciously retained to be used later again.

“The very mystery and marvel of progression is the choosing of one's own future self, and what lies in this process, of the ability to selectively forget and keep the rest."

Puck had wished for a shorter answer that would straight way help him in getting Marley back. He also hoped that the Azlan could not hear his thoughts, for his respect outweighed this impatience, and did not want to appear unthankful.

The great lion looked upon him and purred to clear his voice. He continued:

"The short answer for what you seek is: All shall be discovered given the dust of time."

He then vanished, leaving Charlene and her father wondering.


-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Selective Forgetfulness

Charley chortled her high-pitched giggles pulling hard at the fur on the great Azlan's brow. She had two compact fistfuls and was using them to steady herself as she clambered up his face to the top of his head.

She lost her grip and bounced down toppling over into his left flank where she tried to grasp his muscular tail that was agitatedly flicking side to side.

She crawled back around to his face and proceeded to pull on his eyelashes when Puck plucked her off him.

The Azlan waited until her father had parked Charlene under the cherry tree amongst some of her favourite toys, now seated in an invisible playpen. All of them could speak (by enchantment of course) and this amused her sufficiently.

"What is it you are wanting my dear Puck today?" the Azlan asked - already knowing the answer but requiring him to say it for himself.

"I want Marley to be able to see me again, and remember having done so." He realized as he was saying this that his voice sounded a little whingey.

"Ahh" said the Azlan, "you Puck, originally began this game of forgetfulness by casting a glamour over her mind in the first place.

“That which you do not like now, you created then. Selective forgetfulness is a very tricky business - you can't just go turning it off and on again - and then on and off again," he repeated for added emphasis.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Evil makes people stupid

"Brogan" Puck called softly to Richard - it is time for you to go."

"But I have only just found him, and pity commands that I must stay."

"No, no it does not. It is indeed just the opposite. They can tend to one another. Who knows? By this companionship a heart may grow? Your pity is not what they need - not now. This will take several thousands of years or more and you are needed elsewhere."

As they walked past the caverns together, Brogan had questions, many questions, for Puck. Why do they all appear liquored? Are they drunk or drugged in the confines down here?

"Evil makes people stupid" Puck casually explained - "when it infiltrates a man the light goes from his eyes and very soon he is made dumb. Nature protects its own you see."

"Do all masters of evil really end up here, caught and without reprieve?"

"Yes, if they are human they do."

"So there is no doubt how it will ever turn out for the cruel and the killers, and the ones living just to suit themselves?"

"No, no doubt at all."

"You know I thought there might be more of a dramatic ending to it all...”

"I know ... but it is the proper ending nonetheless."

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Three Once Powerful Men

King John lay manacled to a rock, whilst his brother fed him with an iron spoon. He spat and fell back with the tremors seizing him once again. The palours of Hell had traced over his mind.

Richard, who had but a visitor's pass, drew back and sighed. Did it all end here, in this place of screaming men?

And what of those monkey men? One had shat on John at his first appeal, and the earth beneath had heated most uncomfortably.

A groan came from the spaces beyond. Sheriff Marc, who had been defeated by death at a similar time, shared this same ledge. Three once powerful men - two, answering for their treason to Humanity, now sentenced to cleansing what was left of their souls.

Puck appeared amongst the three of them. Although he was differently costumed in the present-day attire, both recognised him, as they had known him before, as Robin.

His aura of cheerfulness was potent within the underworld realm - everyone seemed to know him, one way or another.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Foibles on Toads

Foibles, a Dwarf from Copernicus, was doing his bookwork when it happened.

Dwarves are very adept at keeping accurate accounts, for it appeals to their hoarding and sense of exactness. Their books are rarely off balance.

They have no need for calculators and can achieve large sums in their rocky heads - calculating mountain mass to ore ratio in but a lengthy moment.

"Too many wintery dinners" he said, putting his pen down.

The tip of its quill glinted in the half-light. He scrutinized the page again, double checking what he knew already to be true...

"A toad's breath is more pungent than its back-end gas, and can brown the top of a cauliflower at a distance of three inches. Note to self - must keep the toads far from the roses this year, else their emissions singe the petals."

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Sending Charley back

Plop! Another golden marble wriggle-rolled itself across the parquetry floor to fall heavily into the stairwell and down the side of the velvet runner into a small congregation of other such rounds of gold gathered at the bottom below.

The child laughed knowingly. She liked the sport, for the noise defied the quiet very nicely.

Her little tunic was slathered in something that had been caramel, and another that had been milk; and her face was grimy with a smile that could not have been bigger.

"You will have to return her,” Goober said as casually as he could make it sound.

Puck tossed another marble, the infant squealed and thumped her little fist out on the ground as if to stop it.

"Marley won't remember a thing ... she never does." he whined, as if taking Charley for the night might be just one of those things.

"It’s plain to see you're miserable my old pal. How’s about I get Charley back to her Mum and you go get yourself some proper think time."

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

When a King enters Heaven

When a king enters into Heaven he is preoccupied with plans and foils; he drifts between those thoughts of his destiny's work, and how the world had shaped to his fancy.

It is not as it is with the experience of a commoner’s death - where the sweet peace falls and speaks to the soul. It is a restless banter in that final transition comes from one who just cannot let go of the power that he held.

Puck on the other hand, had stood at the end of many a royal bed to watch over the transition into yet, a higher office - and, as Robin of the Forest, his sympathies had been very much with this red-haired king. Ambition had teased him sorely.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Temperance

Temperance is the good measure of hopefulness:
That we do not feel pressed to engorge ourselves all at the one time,
But that we can save our moments, that there is a tomorrow,
And with that tomorrow will come more.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

The Greatest of Kings

The kindly face of his Lord was familiar and His presence was most soothing also. As Richard laid his troubled heart before Him, he already felt that the answers to all things were now possible, and he was instantly calmed.

The greatest of Kings then spoke to him saying:

"The work of vanquishing evil is not yours alone dear Richard - and your merits so won, now add to the pot of all Men.

“For it is upon every soul to see and withstand the conceits that deride their kind.

"By your wish I can become, and by my will you shall now be - and all is well.

“Evil itself can only have presence when it is invited. Fear not, for its dominions are small and its reach, incomplete.
“We may go now."

And so saying he closed Richard's eyes who had swept out into a heavenly sleep.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Attack by a Vagabond Army

Sheriff Marc had stubbed his toe on a wayward lance protruding out from a dead man's chest.

He cursed audibly and then returned to his employ, examining the coffers brought forward by the taxationers of the county. They were showing to be more than ample and his garnishing would be prosperous this season.

His two cases were identical black leathered chests - save that one bore the King's crest, and the other, mysteriously, had nothing ascribed to its owner.

The next day the outward-bound coach sent to convey the monies was found abandoned at the side of a stream. The driver had maintained that he and his company were besieged by a vagabond army that had leapt out from the forest, released their horses, and taken the caskets fast away.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

The Vision of an Ancient King

When the sweet delirium had intercepted the spaces of his mind, a vision of an ancient king had come to visit at his bedside. This King was not his father, nor a royal ancestor, but rather the King of all men.

He looked up with amazement.

There were two Knights in accompaniment, whose armours glammed with light; their countenance was young - neither male nor female, yet symmetrical and quite beautiful.

The great King appeared to glow as an aura of gold fell about the room streaming from Him.

Richard spoke feebly, "I have failed Thee. I now consent to death with the achievements vouchsafed to you and to the common good ... yet how can I now die, knowing that the evil still remains?"

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series 

The Arrow of Stag Horn

Richard turned his head from the spoon - feeding was no use anymore for his body, which now spoke to him with the tremors, saying that it was nigh time to give up.

These powers of sorcery had proved too strong against his fevered flesh. The dark prince had stuck him with an arrow; that prick had drained his life fast from him.

Regardless of distance in exile, his brother's demon had overcast that bow. More curious still, the arrow that had wedged inside his shoulder had been crafted from carved stag horn, and not metal.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series 

The Fairy Child

Marley had so many questions and trepidations about what it would mean to give birth to a fairy child.

What if her baby was too fragile for this world? Would her milk be enough? Would the infant behave as mortal children do?

She had over a hundred such questions - and for each one of them a happy finding to come.

Now finally in the world, her little Charlene was doing just fine. In every respect the child appeared to be human, save for her exceptional contentedness. She never cried.

Marley became very used to her small companion - which made it all the more terrible when she was taken from her.

Barely eight months old, there came a day that had been chilly and Marley had gone to secure the windows downstairs before the rains came. When she returned to the cot, she had found it empty.

"No!" Marley screamed. She was in a panic, tossing the blankets in frantic disarray, she searched the floor beneath, and then ran to the front door to find it hanging wide open.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series 

Bones Clattering Musically in the Wind

What would have been but half a day's journey on horseback was a three-day expedition for Robin and the Friar traveling the roads on foot.

Robin walked a mortal's pace, stopping at intercessions for Tooke to catch breath and pray, relieve himself, feed and sleep.

On the third day they stood beneath their eleven dear friends, aligned on the scaffolding, whose bones were now clattering musically in the wind. In just a handful of days the birds had picked the flesh away, discarding those parts less savory.

"They never made it home", Tooke said, before breaking into a weeping.

Robin had seen so many men come and go into death, he was well used to moribund endings; however, even this lit an anger in his soul. Men of the faith were never soldiers and had no chance ever of defending themselves. Ranked as soft as a woman and innocent as a child, this homicide was an explicit defiance to all things Godly. Whether robed or not, these were holy men, whose only treason was to tend to the wounded, albeit the enemy.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series 

King John & Sheriff Marc

King John and Sheriff Marc shared an unnatural love together, for they despised each other's presence, yet continually appeased the other's vanity with great pleasure.

Neither would have thought twice before baring their sword from its leathery sheath; pushing hard with will and want, and a cruel gamefulness.

Both assumed superiority over the other.

The commoners hated them with equal distaste, and this manufactured a conspiratorial bond between them.

John's beard was twisted, and like a Saracen it would reach down to his waist when unwound. His back was scarred from flagellation; half of his finger nails were missing, torn by himself (at the Sheriff’s request); his girth had widened, and his veins bulged like purple grapes.

John's temperament was flaccid until aroused by some sport of cruelty. Whereas Marc's mood was permanent - an acrid disposition with a bitter tongue.

Retiring at night, both lay on their beds of black goose down - full fast asleep - yet without rest or dream.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Baby Charlene

Meeting baby Charlene was the best day of her ragged life ... everything else dissolved its importance and mother and baby were content eating and sleeping together; getting stronger by the day.

As the weeks progressed and the weather warmed, Marley would take Charlene in her pram out to the park to the seat on the hill.

She avoided walking too close to the gardener's shed, but would sit on the seat overlooking the suburb below.

Puck had engraved their three names at the back in the wood there, which made her smile to see this every time.

They had enough money to get by and Marley was so enthralled with her small child, she rarely, if ever, thought of anything else in the world - or outside of it.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Druid Priests related Fairytales

The ancient Druid Priests related fairytales which may seem very elementary to us, but which proceeded from the deepest and most profound insight. Stories of such beings as cobbolds, undines, nixies and the like, are regarded to-day as superstition and phantasy, but they originated from living intercourse with the highest spiritual beings on other planes. For in very truth, spiritual worlds are all around us. 

The astral world is everywhere, with colours and sounds as real as those of the physical world. All this is revealed to one who has made progress in his development. We learn to know whole ranks of new Beings who cannot become visible on the physical plane because they do not reach down as far as physical substance; their corporeality consists of astral substance.

The sagas and fairytales originated from actual intercourse with these Beings. In earlier times, spiritual forces brought about what the modern mind would call ‘Miracles.’ It is incorrect to speak, as do our scientists to-day, of the primitive conditions in which an ancient humanity existed. Men satisfied their material needs in those times in the simplest possible way, but, on the other hand, they shared in a very real sense in the spiritual life directed by these higher Personalities.

-Rudolf Steiner

Rudolf Steiner on Fairytales

Materialists say myths and fairy tales originated in the childhood stage of the human race. But in its childhood, humanity was taught by the gods. In the process of our evolution, myths and fairy tales are gradually lost, but children should not grow up without them. 

It makes a tremendous difference whether or not children are allowed to grow up with fairy tales. The power of the fairy tale images, which give wings to the soul, becomes apparent only at a later age. Growing up without fairy tales leads later to boredom, to world-weariness. Indeed, it can even cause physical symptoms — fairy tales can help to prevent illnesses. The qualities that seep into our soul from fairy tales later emerge as a zest for life, enthusiasm for being alive, and an ability to cope with life, all of which can be seen even in old age.

Children have to experience the power of the content of fairy tales while they are young and can still do so. People who cannot live with ideas that have no reality on the physical plane will be dead to the spiritual world. 

Philosophies based only on the material world are the death of our soul. Physical evolution leads to the death of the spiritual world. We must reach a view of the world based not on appearances, but resting solidly on its own inherent structure. We have to move toward the principle: I believe what I know. 

-Rudolf Steiner, The Presence of the Dead on the Spiritual Path

Robin Hood as Puck

The "mythological theory" dates back at least to 1584, when Reginald Scot identified Robin Hood with the Germanic goblin "Hudgin" or Hodekin and associated him with Robin Goodfellow [Puck]. 

"There go as many tales upon this Hudgin, in some parts of Germany, as there did in England of Robin Goodfellow. But this Hudgin was so called, because he always wore a cap or a hood; and therefore I think it was Robin Hood."

-Reginald Scot 

Thomas Keightley said “Robin Good-fellow answers to the Nisse God-dreng of the Norwegians. He was called Robin Hood, because, like the Nis and the Brownie, he wore a hood”.

Jacob Grimm also noted the similarity between Robin Goodfellow and Robin Hood.


"From the beginning of scholarly investigation into the legends about the outlaw, it had been obvious that at the end of the Middle Ages he had been celebrated in plays as well as ballads. Two very different approaches to research into his legend were proposed in response. The first, by Joseph Ritson in 1795, assumed that Robin had been a real human being; the second, started by Thomas Wright in 1837, opined that he was originally a woodland god, honoured in the May revels. This latter argument gained more support in the early twentieth century. Douglas Kennedy and Lord Raglan suggested that he had been the dying and returning god of vegetation postulated by Sir James Frazer as a universal focus of devotion in ancient religion."

-Ronald Hutton

Richard Dadd 

Legend has it that when Jesus was dying on the cross, the robin, then simply brown in colour, flew to his side and sang into his ear in order to comfort him in his pain. The blood from his wounds stained the robin's breast, and thereafter all robins got the mark of Christ's blood upon them.

An alternative legend has it that its breast was scorched fetching water for souls in Purgatory.

Hermes the Trickster

Hermes:

In some myths, he is a trickster and outwits other gods for his own satisfaction or for the sake of humankind. His attributes and symbols include the herma, the rooster, the tortoise, satchel or pouch, winged sandals, and winged cap. His main symbol is the Greek kerykeion or Latin caduceus, which appears in a form of two snakes wrapped around a winged staff with carvings of the other gods.

In the Roman adaptation of the Greek pantheon Hermes is identified with the Roman god Mercury, who, though inherited from the Etruscans, developed many similar characteristics such as being the patron of commerce.

Hendrick Goltzius

Due to his constant mobility, he was considered the god of commerce and social intercourse, the wealth brought in business, especially sudden or unexpected enrichment, travel, roads and crossroads, borders and boundary conditions or transient, the changes from the threshold, agreements and contracts, friendship, hospitality, sexual intercourse, games, data, the draw, good luck, the sacrifices and the sacrificial animals, flocks and shepherds and the fertility of land and cattle. In addition to serving as messenger to Zeus, Hermes carried the souls of the dead to Hades, and directed the dreams sent by Zeus to mortals.

Saint Francis- Rudolf Steiner

Saint Francis of Assisi made no attempt to overcome the experiences of the heart; on the contrary he retained them in full, and the consequence was, he retained them in perfect health. That is what is so grand and majestic about Francis of Assisi; he enlarged his heart to cover his whole soul.

-Rudolf Steiner