I’m Amazed

Eve actually felt like singing, and to go for an actual walk - or a stroll - and maybe sing, while she strolled. Eve never really took the time to linger or casually walk for the sake of walking, to enjoy the countryside. She lived with the commotion of the spirits around her crowding her daily thoughts, and this busyness had kept her from the more silent activities - usually.

But today … When Eve opened her eyes, in the half light of the morning, she could smell the coffee from the kitchen, along with a meld of sweet and spicy fragrances wafting under her door to her bed. 

She drew her gown around her hurried to the kitchen. On the table there was a crisp linen cloth, with a full breakfast placed on top. She did not recognise the crockery, or the cutlery, or the bowls of fruit and porridge, plates of pancakes and fruit rice, jugs of syrup and milk, and a pot of coffee.

“Oh this is great!” she said out loud exuberantly. And then sat down to enjoy her fare. Secretly she assumed that it was Puck that had left it there for her.

The very next morning the exact same thing happened again, only this time the crockery was different and the menu slightly varied. There were blueberries in the porridge, and muffins instead of pancakes. Some hard boiled eggs and fresh juice had appeared as well.

Before she could sit down to enjoy herself her door bell chimed. It was her neighbour - an elderly woman who had survived a tedious life, shackled with arthritis and regret.

“Hi Violet - are you ok?”

“Yes yes dear - I was just checking that you yourself were doing alright - there was a lot of coming and going this morning in the early hours.”

Eve was not exactly sure what Violet meant by this, but was touched by her concern.

“Oh please be assured that I am more than alright,” she said, looking back into the kitchen at her breakfast waiting. From the doorway Violet could see it too.

“Oh, er, it would be really nice if you could come in and join me,” she said generously.

Violet stepped into the apartment without hesitation and carefully, unsteadily, sat herself down. “Well this is very nice” she said appreciatively.

On the third morning yet another breakfast ‘appeared’ slightly grander than the others and with more placings than the previous ensemble. Once again, there was a visitor at the door: it was Violet who had returned very hopefully, this time with the ruse of there being a wayward piece of mail to deliver, which was merely a pamphlet from the local complex - and alongside her was Letitia from 2b.

Letitia had been large all her life, and now, in her seventies her bones were beginning to disintegrate under the strain of the weight. She stood behind Violet as though trying to hide from sight. And yes, of course, Eve invited them both to join her in the breakfast feast.

“You have been busy dear,” said Letty with great enthusiasm. Violet nodded to her ravenous friend, in covert style, as if to say, didn’t I tell you?

By the sixth morning, the extraordinary foods were still manifesting, and so were the neighbours: Bryan from the basement, a barely employed, not-very-good handyman, had offered to paint enamel over a scratch on the Vauxhall, at 8am; and Peter, a retired lawyer from Caracas had stopped by with a petition of signatures he was collecting. And so there were now five of them around her little table, which surprisingly had five place settings set that day, with food enough for everyone.

There was a sixth chair in the corner, where sat their invisible host watching on. It was Needles the Dwarf, her recovered friend, who in a debt of enormous gratitude had felt compelled to be her helper evermore.

One other thing that had escaped Eve’s attention was that Letty, Bryan, Peter and Violet all happened to belong to the local WW meetup group. The WW did not stand for World War, or Weight Watchers, but rather Witches and Warlocks a society from down the road. And although their age made them appear benign and sweet, this gathering just happened to be anything but.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

Send a Messenger

Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres

Jupiter had suffered a special kind of restlessness when his younger brother had left for the pits. Images would come to him of his life there, disturbing the Elvish inner equilibrium, although his outer composure remained regally sedate. What was the attraction Titan had for the Mortal world?

They had tried to get word to him when Shiva had passed behind the veil. Nothing seemed to penetrate the dense ethers of the lower worlds.

“Send a messenger” was the Mastiff’s suggestion. And so they did - Tok - an Angeloi of distinction - but he also had not been heard of ever since. And so the memorial was held without either being present.

Death in the Heavens, although infrequent, is much of the same as it is in the Elemental world - however, it is openly heralded to be that of an awarded time, a bridge crossed, a period completed, a set fulfilled, with a new one begun.

The word itself (death) used to translate simply into salt - meaning to stop - where a condition realises its finitude. And so the release from death into a higher world again was always celebrated and understood to be inevitable and respectable. Yet, as with any other world, the remainders feel the vacancy sorely, and lament the distance placed between them and those who have travelled ahead.

Sadness, deep sadness, can become a caveat for change. Jupiter needed the comfort of his brother now and in that moment decided with the spirit of his mother at his side, that he himself would endure the vile atmosphere of the warring clag of Earth, to go and retrieve that of his own once and for all.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

Jupiter

Jupiter stared across the horizon, watching the last of the party still dancing with haloed silhouettes whorling before the dawning sky. The committal ceremony had exceeded the night, and the mourners had spent all of their grief, commending their sorrow into the Higher Heavens, along with the spirit of their dearly beloved and friend.

This night his mother had gone to a place where he was not permitted to follow, for a time.

She had been, and still was, a gracious woman. A strong, yet kindly mother, who was always conceding to the wills of the gods she had birthed; not once did irate anger summon against her sons. She admired and loved her offspring, and bore a quiet confidence in each and every one of them.

Jupiter’s brother was unaware of this happening. He had migrated into the lesser planes of the Mortal realm, where communication was insolent at best. His brother - this brother - had not walked the gardens of his birthplace for over a century or so - perhaps in the knowledge that should he return, he may well want to remain.

The weather is always mild in the Lower Heavens - its purple sky becoming over-lit by a golden sun, Jupiter watched the small rainbows twink the dewy foliage. He could hear the rays alight this, his place, and feel them as they infilled his chest with new life once again, in preparation for what was before him.

Fairy wrens with rainbow plumage hopped lightly across the lawn. Smaller birds, tits and mudlarks, pecked at the ground for golden seeds. This daily renewal was as important as air and water is to mortals of the lower worlds, and he paused to acknowledge the life-giving radiance as it imbibed his very being.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

Tu at Once

The mice kept nibbling at Goober’s feet - it was a playful exchange, which would summarily end in him kicking the tiny creatures across to the other side of the bamboo room.

He scratched his head absentmindedly out of habit - “Doors might be good” he called out loud, watching the drapes inhale and exhale from the wind outside.

Tu and Puck were far too absorbed in their sandcastle to be paying attention to him. It was a three dimensional mandala constructed from the ancient calcine remnants of earthly times: Babylon, Mexico, Australian shores, Egyptian silt, even crumbs from Atlantis. The particles would regroup to find their own and make patterns - moving patterns that glittered crystalline colours migrating through the tower that was almost three feet high.

“More, more!” Tu urged excitedly … but the canisters had all been drained, and there was nothing to do but watch their conical castle regroup and rearrange as the particles, like strings of ants that make their way to their own again. 

“Mortals always envision one homogeny of Mankind, yet the sands prove otherwise. This is a living teaching of the limitations the concept of oneness holds. See how the particles seek out their own? The countries, the ages, the peoples, their beliefs … these are all signified distinctly by their unique innate memory … and yes, even sand holds memories.”

He was now facing twenty young monks who had silently joined them to watch the swirling mandala - to see the patterns of circles and paisley, merge more and more until the cone settled into stripes: as though plates were stacked from the biggest to the base to the smallest at the top.

“From where does this one come?” asked a novice, pointing at the very top layer.

“Paradise” answered Tu, “It is from the very beginning of this World.”

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

The Three Mountains

Three mountains stood shoulder to shoulder, mumbling to each other throughout the ages. They themselves were astride a ridge with a climb, and so progressively they were ordered in size - the third mountain appeared to be the tallest at the top amongst them, even though it was the smallest.

The tallest mountain wore the longest roots, and it sat like a grand molar in a valley of water shaded by the two above. The middle mountain creaked and groaned, being set between the two, always uncomfortable with its placement. Sheep trailed around its skirt, and foxes circled around its sheep. 

The tallest smallest pinnacle was the coldest loneliest of the three for no bird could fly to its apex, and the winds on high were sharply persuasive. The mountain that nested in the middle then enjoyed being fixed betwixt the two, and knowing his place thereby. 

The mountain at the base dipped its toes into the rivers of the world - some which ran under the ground and found their way many miles around. With ancient ears it could hear the chatter of the life that came and went, and with this, a single tree, at its base, laughed frequently.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

Gazumped

Cloistered in and amongst the monk’s cells were dragons - astral dragons that sat guarding the shadows, the halls and the gardens of the weathered monastery.

Each one of them was a reformed being, having been domesticated by the masters one by one.

There were several that were responsible for the deaths of hundreds of mortals over time, and smaller elemental beasts that primarily infected areas with disease and disruptions.

Dragons can be the cause of landslides and bridges failing; they can equally corrupt a mind or feed an ulcer, inflame and fever, suppurate and contaminate.

However, the monks motto “tame the dragon and you will release Humanity” was a maxim they lived by. If ever any of the creatures reverted to their old ways, they would thrash them with a switch, or beat them with their brooms.

The dragons were compelled to stay within the confines of the cloister because the monks were empowered to hold them. And this deep magic had begun and continued with the help of the elvish adept, Puck.

It had started with salamanders, and continued on with beasts the size of trees, who bore the breath of a crematorium.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

Heaven Can Wait

Jon unclipped the golden earring from his ear and handed it solemnly to Tindle. “His ghost has spoken in the very ear that has worn this - he wants you to have it and is might sorry that the bargain did not fulfil itself.”

“Nay, I cannot” he said returning it promptly.

“Might you not then come with me Jon?”

Although Tindle could not see her, Fatima’s etherial presence was standing right behind him - and Jon kept looking past his friend, seeking the opportunity to lie with her in the quiet …

“I am fearful Jon, that if you dwell with the ghosts you shall become one yourself.”

Tindle was far more perceptive than Jon had given him credit for.

He persisted: “If ye continue to lie down with your spirit love, you may not get up again - you are too young to forfeit your earthly life for the sweetness of death.” 

He persisted, “There will be all of eternity to dance the spirit dance, but friend, I am trying now to coerce you to come with me at least part of the way, that you might forestall Death’s calling.”

Tindle had once seen the spirit girl, and although she was the sweetest vision of pure soul, her resonance belonged now to a different world, one that would envelope and evaporate all earthly care if so allowed.

“Jon, you are already beginning to fade into a spectre yourself, for the sweetness of Heaven has caught your desires.”

Jon drew breath, like a newborn, pronounced and with the statement of life. He acquiesced so saying: “Heaven can wait.”

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

The Raptor & the Peace

In the skies above the cities of the present, there are invisible raptors circling and swooping, feeding from the pulse and throb of the energetic thoughts expired by the emotional human crowds below.

These raptors were exiled into the invisible world, yet could not be forced out from its hemisphere as was hoped. Alike to all species of extinction, there becomes an etheric subset that still continues on.

Although they no longer have a substantive presence in the physical world, their kind (the Raptors particularly) persist as reptilian vampires, stalking the ethers in packs of screeching attack.

They contribute to the fear and anger that they feed upon. They stimulate the minds of men into such a panic, their energy is consumed, and the undercurrent to their daily thoughts is adrenaline driven.

Tyrannosaurs are tyrannical in their behaviours. Dinobirds are the antithesis to the angelic birds we know nesting in our forests and foliage.

Amarillo knew the difference between life and death, but he was confused when it came to the inbetweens. He perceived the dislocation of species - just as with the Raptors who were abandoned by their heritage home to circle the ethers above; he often would step into the adjacent worlds, where also the newly departed mortals would go.

Mostly he enjoyed watching their joyous release from the tedium and the pain - and their general world weariness. He could see the difficulties rise and split away from these souls, opening like a rose - many roses - about them; and, the worse the suffering, the greater was their radiance around.

But then there were those who, alike to the species in exile - there were the in-betweens — who could not move into the heavens, nor return to the Earth.

Some were suicides, who were forced to remain for what would have been their earthly term - compelled to watch and yearn for the family and food and air they once knew. These souls were constantly grieving, as though their final moments remained with them and thus tied them to the World, with the spiritual supplication awaiting them could not penetrate their sadness. There were no roses for them.

Then, there were the men and women (never children) who passed into the realm as atheists. This never went well, for they had not the spiritual sight to carry them further. These souls would be quite lost, and often times mumbling to themselves in this Hades of otherness.

Witches and warlocks would astrally project themselves into this realm to recruit some of these lost souls into their service. These were the Deceivers, as he liked to call them. When Amarillo came across a member of the black arts coercing a recently deceased mortal he would break up the discourse by showering them with a glamour of love. He found this easy to conjure, as he had nothing but pity for these tragic creatures of will.

It was always so cliché he would think to himself, trying to abate his annoyance at the veritable ‘shits’ of this spiritual society.


-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

Time in a Bottle

“Put the bottle down please Eve.”

“Oh but I want to look into it.” Eve said with genuine enthusiasm.

“I said: put the bottle down before you drop it - please.” he insisted again. This time Puck was much sterner and she immediately obeyed. His serious voice was undeniable.

“This little boat inside the bottle is beautifully detailed,” she said while standing back … “master-crafted masts with detailed scrimmage, and look, look at the coloured twine - it seems so believably real.”

There was a label on the bottle: emergency use only.

“Curious” she said, eyeing the label.

“This is the very boat I travelled to Thebes in backwards until I found the end of the world” said Puck very proudly. His eyes turned a shade of grey violet as he recalled this, stuffing the curio back into his knapsack.

Eve laughed, it was good to have a little humour in the day.

“Should’ve liked to have seen that” she said.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series