Boo!

Just then, an elemental fairy, with a fat black body and spikes coming out from its centre, swung from a tree at Goober’s face. “Boo!” it said trying its hardest to disarm him.

Goober stepped back, caught by the surprise, and a hive erupted on his cheek. 

Another annoying sprite came at him from behind, and although it did not touch Goober or Tu, it was menacing, and aiming for maximum surprise. 

“BOO!” it shouted ethereally into Goober’s ear.

Startled once more, this throat felt like it was closing.

“These beings are the true allergens”, he mumbled, “somebody get me a spray for them!”

Tu pulled some little darts from Goober’s throat - and found that attached to three of them were fat bellied fairies that loved to suck off the energy of the allergic reaction they created.

“Begone!” the monk exclaimed, uncharacteristically. Several clung on to his own robe with persistence.  

“They are not called ali-jins for nuthin”, said Goober very seriously. “These Jins are one of the most persistent of the fay - and when they are good they are the savants of
our world - but this variety are obsessive … little Jin vampires of a kind”, he finished this statement by kicking one to the curb.

“So you have known this all along? Why do you let them get to you?”

“Wull my boy, if I could answer that, I would have the answer.” Goober said matter of factly.

His face brightened - he added, “Now what to do now while we’re out?”

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

Chanting looks Popular

Goober and Tu conspired one night to break out of the retreat, and go explore the city outside. Unbeknown to them previously, there just happened to be a bus stop at the gates which went to the station, the metropolis, and even the airport.

“I thought we were in the heights of Tibet” said Goober mildly surprised and a little deflated to find himself in an ordinary city.

“I had thought we were in some Brigadoon … you know, a place that lives in the clouds and only frequents Earth once a century.” said Tu, wonderingly.

Tu looked over his shoulder. The retreat even had a glass plated signage with a brochure beneath that showed up-and-coming events.

“Chanting looks popular”, said Goober squinting at the calendar over Tu’s shoulder. He could see that it was the most frequent activity open to the public to participate in.

“Oh look - they do cooking lessons for noviciates! Ha!” exclaimed Tu - “Is this the same place we just walked out of with fifty ways of cooking rice?”

Actually, it wasn’t. The retreat that they had been under the cover of, was one that existed back in time, some two hundred years earlier. Goober swallowed hard, his allergies already were beginning to kick back in. Tu is quite right - it is a lot like Brigadoon, he thought to himself.

“Oh I am so sorry Tu”, he said to the young Master who was watching his face carefully as his own began to swell. 

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

Useful for the Melting Pot

Jon had been collecting scraps of iron wherever he could steal them; discarded nails, hinges off doors, cattle traps, even the greened variety - the kind used for those little statues of the gods, the pocket gods, he smiled to himself, as they too were perfectly useful for the melting pot.

Although his skills were limited, he had gleaned enough to know how to heat and cool to temper … he understood the metal’s character, and what would make it strong, or have it split … and how to hammer and work its weight. He discovered that he had missed this, his employment, and the satisfaction it won, with every new object brought to the world as never before. He made ideas substantial. He could even stamp his maker’s mark if he wanted to. And more than this, he was useful.

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

It's all Fluff

Frederick Richardson

Jordy had an appointment at the sanctuary, where he was to deliver what he liked to call the ‘meals on wheels’ to the occupants of the Mitcham Miniature Zoo.

Primarily the menu his small business supplied was a conglomerate of offal and fish, soured grasses imbibed with insoluble minerals, and general leftovers from the livestock suppliers nearby. The food fare for the creatures of the sanctuary was rarely as promised - and lately it had been becoming even poorer in quality. Jordy had been ‘economically’ cutting corners, and adding fillers to bulk up the troughs with sawdust and cereal.

The establishment housed a variety of beasts, both alive and mummified for display, as an adjunct to the Walham estate, whose grand mansion inhaled foreign visitors quarterly as the tourist income was much needed for upkeep.

The current caretakers of Walham had discovered, like most major land holders, that maintenance on such a large property, was all consuming. And, even though they enjoyed a lavish wealth, it was clear for all to see that this generational inheritance was undeniably a burden to their dwindling funds.

Its crumbling exterior was an in-ignorable monument of scorn. The forty roomed edifice groaned and creaked its own complaint, shifting its weight ever deeper into the muddy mires of the cloudy moors. Walham’s arthritic structure, after four hundred years of housing its changing occupants, had outlived them all.

Jordy unlatched the main gate to tend to the sleeping mass - 4.30am, before the howling would begin; he strode the muddy path with buckets in hand. The heavy iron swung back and clanged defiantly, breaking the peace of the dawn with a grinding crash and click - however it sprang back again out from the latch and gaped open.

In the half dark Jordy missed this event, as he unlocked the bear enclosure with digital precision. 

The doorway to this concrete confinement had been modernised and it worked with a code rather than a key, and as he turned to secure the doorway, the old growler cuffed him over the head and made his escape out through the iron entrance and into the morning.

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

A Dark Intrusion

Puck had left Goober behind at the Retreat to continue his work with Master Tu - they both seemed good for one another - gentle companions healing through the quiet company of the other. Yes, Puck assured himself, the two would do nicely staying right where they were. Goober’s allergies had subsided, and Tu’s tremors had also calmed - all was well at the Green Leaf Nirvanic Retreat.

His attention then returned to Eve, to check in on how she had been doing. He had meant wholeheartedly to visit sooner, but so many causes and callings demanded his focus … and by the time he reached her flat he found yet another breakfast taking place, with some oddballs around her kitchen table, accompanied by their shadowy demons who were frightening the usual ghosts huddled in the corner.

Einstein aka Needles, seemed oblivious to the fanged and threatening ghouls parading in Eve’s lounge room, and he was busying himself manifesting top ups for the tea and cocoa being consumed by the fast eating elderly.

These witches, on the face of it, appeared benign - at first glance … deceptively elderly and divorced from any great power to speak of. But Puck knew better, that these sour individuals held the unfortunate contamination of those who walk the path of death. It is inevitable that the corruptive forces cannot sustain life in an ordinary way, and seek it from whatever or whoever they may. It becomes their only survival. He felt immediate concern for Eve’s welfare.

Puck made a mental note to do something soon to help her out of this dark intrusion - but what?

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

Turning the Wheels of Karma

Puck rarely got himself involved in politics - having seen centuries of mishaps and twisting turns concerning those who chose sides, invariably forgetting their cause along the way; no, he preferred to stick to local issues on a case-by-case basis. Like the time he had discovered a certain UK MP who had entrapped, enslaved and then embalmed a young staffer, interring his intern into a disused well on his heritage estate.

This heartless MP could not resist a filthy bribe or an empowered cruelty, as personal wealth had never quenched his private sense of cunning that was doubly excited by illicit gain. Ordinary wealth was but bread and butter to this modern day villain, whereas the illegal acquisitions became the intoxicating cognac that excited his flaccid soul.

The Elvish cannot, and do not, directly disable or harm Mortals - even when, at times, they are pissed off by their cruel and devilish behaviours - but what they can do is turn the wheels of Karma a little faster for them. 

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

Just Dive In

Jupiter stared into the flaming lake, as though he was waiting to see something appear out from its secrets. The sunset glimmered and glamoured its way onto its surface, and small silver fish leapt up and dove back down, piercing its glassy ceiling, causing little ripples on an otherwise pristine surface. This was the place where the spiritual sea met with the heavenly ethers.

He paused, he thought, and then gripping the bough of a reclining fig tree, Jupiter slipped into the lake’s watery embrace and let go.

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

A Dry Summer

Dieric Bouts

When Tindle had returned empty handed, the people of Trent on Shore were relieved to see him still alive, and they proved perspect on the losses this honest boy had made. Seasoned with both former bad fortune and many regrets; they had been all too aware of what was asked of him time and time again before, and generously forgave him for losing their savings on this pilgrimage.

And so it did not go so badly as he had imagined, and to Tindle’s relief, life would carry on somewhat the same - save for the voluntary tasks he now was employed with, as well as his own. As an act of propriety and conscience, Tindle would help where he could, in service to the whole community he called home.

One such labor of charity was to assist the travellers cross over the inlet waters to the other side where slumped a small wooden chapel. The priest would travel to his spiritual homestead twice a week and once on Sundays to hold the consecrative act. For this reason, the set times required passage over a full and virulent river way, depending on the rains prior.

And because the rivulet travelled down into the sea from higher ground, the movement of the waters was rapid - too fast for a tiny boat to cross. The depths were fickle also, as the riverbed was uneven, and the rocks also, proved a hazard to the traveller. Yet with Tindle’s great height, and oilskin dungarees, there was a way that each of the forty worshippers could be carried there and back, upon his broad back, with safety. 

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