Co operation, Coercion & the Unexpected

There was a universal reason for mistakes ever occurring

- for mishaps and malady, for every time a piece to the puzzle went missing - or a face went unrecognised

- when there was not enough salt, or not enough sweet

- not enough matching numbers for the lottery sweep …

yes, there was a universal reason for all things disappointing, and, that very reason befuddled all but the ants: for the ants had a propriety, giving no time for mistake or misstep, a veritable army with a singular mind … one great group of determination, currently, hurriedly, pursuing their employment, to the exclusion of all else…

“I think I should stay here forever” Tu said, patting the head of a curly haired goat that had ambled his way up beside him. “Oh but you cannot stay here forever” replied the goat matter-of-factly. “You seem like a reasonable mortal, and so surely you can see that this place is not real.”

Tu had been watching the ants as they made their way up the path upon which he sat, in a uniform line of organised precision.

“Why don’t you take a drink from the well, you look so thirsty” offered the goat quite bluntly.

“Oh no my little friend, I have done this once before and I’m not partial to the water from this well.”

The goat began to dance a little jig, jumping into the air one foot here, and one foot there. “You are a merry little thing” said Tu quite convinced there was mischief in this folly.

“Why don’t you just look into the water and see what you might see?” persisted the goat with another unwanted suggestion.

“And have you trounce me from behind? I think not” said Tu politely but firmly.

“Very well” said the goat with a half tone of anger and authority.

“I have heard though” Goat added further “that there is gold at the bottom of that well.”

“Your gold does not interest me at all” said Tu quite honestly - as it was not treasures that could tempt him in any part of the universe, let alone fairy gold, which is said to dissolve in your pocket unexpectedly and be completely unreliable.

“Perhaps if I gnaw at your feet you might think differently” said the goat quite obstinately.

Tu thought that the goat wanted the gold for himself and could persuade him to get it for him. And with that said Tu briskly picked the creature up, and dumped him into the well head first.

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

They Cannot Recognise the Goodness in Others

“Once upon a time there were two dogs - Peter and Paul - who were brothers, and very close to one another …

“They would feed from the same bowl and sleep on the same bed, and generally were the best of companions you ever could find.

Over time age weathered them both, and Paul had become quite blind.

“Then there came the day when Paul lost his sense of smell, as well as his sight, and in a confused moment he could not discriminate his brother from any other, and in a moment of fear he lashed out and bit him hard. Reacting to this Peter bit him back, and a fight to the death ensued.

“In a manner of speaking” continued Puck thoughtfully, “this can happen with people - and does happen, all of the time, in my experience - that they become all the more angry all the more feeble that they - especially if they cannot recognise the goodness in others - will only see the enemy, to the detriment of both.”

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

Ring a Ring o' Rosary

Peter Paul Rubens

“It was a sprite called Gorgon!” babbled Violet.

“Gorgon? Do you say Gordon?”

“No - Gorgon, his name was Gorgon - and he came to collect the blood, and he took it to Romulus as was commanded,” at this point she gazed into space as though she was watching someone or something over the shoulder of Puck, that the rest of them could not see.

There was nothing about Violet that resembled a human being insomuch as the mud that was still caked over her gave her the appearance of a walking talking rock.

“How did you meet Romulus in the first place?” pressed Tweak.

“How is this relevant?” asked Puck, believing that they were getting off topic and into the woods of wasting time.

“We cannot judge this until we know” explained Tweak “because sometimes there are clues in beginnings - beginnings will teach us much of how things started, and therefore also of what they are made of.”

“Continue” he said to Violet, who was quite mesmerised by her surroundings and content to talk in ways that once she might not have before.

“When I was a young girl we used candlelight at night to see by … that is how old I am and if it wasn’t candlelight, it was an oil lamp light, in which there was also a flame.”

“The flame would dance in the dark and flicker with a random regularity and in the shadows that it cast across my little room I could often see a face watching me. I became so used to seeing this face I thought not much of it until one night some years later I was playing a game with my cousins … we had a Ouija board and we were trying to call the spirits of our recently departed sisters; for we had all lost someone with the sickness earlier that year.

“And it was on that night that I saw the face more clearly, and it spoke to me saying:

“Let me whisper in your ear when darkness falls and I will speak to thee.”

“Trust in My power above all else and I will give to thee.”

“And after that game on that night this is what happened when I was visited by Romulus who would come and tickle my in ear with promises - not as a husband would make - yet very much as a husband might do. For although he was invisible I could feel his touch upon my skin and he would pleasure me throughout the night and very soon I believed all that he would tell me, and do all he asked me to throughout the day.”

It was at this point of the conversation that Eve was feeling quite disgusted in hearing how a young girl was so easily taken over by this malevolent and controlling spirit, and she wanted to hear no more.

Whoever Romulus was he certainly had an influence over this girl's life one that brought her to her knees and infected her soul.

Jupiter interjected: “This Romulus was a hybrid of wolf and man. The wolf in him took over his soul long ago and it despises the humanity he wore in form only.”

“I thought that wolves were kindly creatures when studied” Eve pondered out loud.

“To its own kind perhaps, until it’s not.”

Oh so suddenly a memory washed over Eve and momentarily she reminisced of a young man who lay on the bare earth beside a wolf as large as himself, with the wood of Rosary hung down around its a spiky scruff.

“Ring a ring o' rosary a pocketful of Posey”, she said to herself whimsically realizing that the ring of Rosary with a prayer beads, was not some mortal welt.

Puck looked over to her and said reading her thoughts “This is an anomaly, yes, however Francis did live in close proximity to the wolves truly, yet he did not become as the same as them, it was they who became as he.”

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

Tweak

 Pieter Bruegel the Elder 

Tweak was famous in the Underworld (the genuine Underworld) for his stealth operations: interrupting the human intelligence surreptitiously. So little is known about the connections that parallel the Kingdoms of Dwarves and Human thought whereupon new ideas intersect frequently and develop together.

They also habituate this branch of Faerie, being literally the gardeners of cultivating concepts that flourish later into popular vernacular creating steadfast paradigms.

His qualifying accomplishments were of so many, that Puck did not doubt his expertise or ability. It was Goober’s idea to bring Tweak into the Little Heavens for his sage opinion on the perils at hand.

Tweak was wearing his usual royal blue suit, buttoned with gold, and trimmed with pearls. His long beard was twined and threaded with fresh vines, his grey eyes were stern, but not unkind.

Eve couldn’t help but think how cute the Dwarf appeared - who also could read her thoughts, and was not happy with her demeaning judgements. He ignored her stares and politely listened to Jupiter, Puck and Goober’s ideas about what had happened to the great Lake and what was to be done.

“I am essentially an idea’s fellow, you understand - and I do not have expertise in sewerage and its removal.” He frowned deeply as he said this.

Goober nodded in assent, then cut him off from adding anything further.

“Master Tweak, Governor of all ideas commodious, we need desperately your breadth of thinking - for as you can see, we have nothing - nothing to do but to watch this disaster grow with every moment.”

The zombie four started up their moaning again from the spot they were tied to - a willow tree - that was just far enough for them to be seen - but far away enough to be somewhat quieter.

“You know that is why the mouths are often sewn shut - to keep them from talking incessantly …"

Eve shuddered - what on Earth - did he just say? Tweak did not look so cute to her anymore.

“Well,” remarked Tweak thoughtfully - “contrarily, the very first thing to do is to hear what those four want to tell us. They may be able to shed light on this matter.”

“What if we allow it one at a time?” Puck added.

“Fine by me - go fetch the smallest and we will begin there.”

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

Osmosis

Tears splashed against the mighty rock
from the sea that breathed heave back and forth,
Mists infused with skies above
The ocean’s rise congregates in cloud
hovering, gliding, a porous shroud -
vapours infilled with golden light
propelled by forceful breath there came
upon our wanting earth beneath
the ecstasy of rain .

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

Twenty Years is Not so Long

John Everett Millais

Time in the world had evaporated, yet for Jon-Jon there was no recollection of the twenty years that had passed - not one day or night - since entering into that very private, secret of places; to find his stepmother waiting for him … and now, for all of that time to dissipate, it never occurred to him, that this community she and he dwelt in together was a magical one.

And although he had not slept through this episode, Jon had forged something of a life that was parallel to what he had known in worldly hardship prior - and with this, his memory of its suffering had lapsed completely, and his former self gave way to the Elvin dream-life in the thick woods of the Sherwood community.

Neither he, nor Isabelle, had seemed to age in this track of two decades. Quite possibly he could have stayed for many years more, were it not for a dream that visited him where Zithia pressed her face close to his, and in a brief and waking moment he instantly recalled his former self, and regret fast swept upon him.

“What if you cannot find her?” Isabelle called after him.

This thought pained Jon.

“I shall return either way,” he replied, hoisting his seat across Chester.

“Then I shall not dissuade you dear man - however you shall take this that you may find your way back - for without a key it may not be so easy to find me a second time.” And saying this she drew from the folds of her dress a fine Whistle carved from the bough of a tree from Faerie.

“It was the great monk Robin that made this himself” she said thoughtfully placing it into his hand.

Jon turned it over and recalled several legends. Even though he had resided in the host’s community, very few had taken tea with him. The Hode was a private soul. He was also rarely there, though none knew of this.

“As well my dear heart, know also that you cannot take Chester this time - for he will not survive.”

“And yet he looks long in the tooth, I believe he will be as strong as the day we came here.” Jon protested.

“By appearances yes, but appearances only. I shall arrange for you another mount if leaving is still your obstinacy.”

“It is not my obstinacy, but rather my will,” he corrected her - “for my purpose had not died, it only slept.”

Isabelle was displeased with his firmness and was sorely apprehensive about losing Jon into the world once more.

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

Goober Appeared out of Nowhere

“Please don’t take me to Hell” he pled …
“Don’t you know 

that I only meant well?”
“Of course you did” the sparrow said ~
“yet here we are, and dead is dead.”

“You know, if it is their world, after all, at some point we have to ask: what right do we have to interfere?”

“However, they have now invaded our domain - for many eons they polluted the Garden (he means Faerie - the original Garden) and now their filth has visited a station of Heaven. This is not good, or permissible, and because Jupiter introduced these events, Jupiter must hold the keys to fix what has happened.”

“How exactly did Jupiter cause this?” asked Jupiter himself sarcastically. He was annoyed at being spoken of whilst present and also for being blamed for the lake of souls turning rancid.

Eve was surprised as she did not know he had it in him. The day’s mishap had soured him altogether.

The golden gourds had lost their plump, the grass bent over, not being able to withstand the weight of its browned head. Weeds were erupting everywhere and some thistles already had leapt so high they were choking the pathways with their spikes and pricks overcoming the floral beds.

An ominous haze wafted overhead, dimming the once bright light, and birds were dropping from the trees, falling like coconuts with a thud here and there every few minutes. The wandering peacocks had lost their colours entirely - their plumage now black with the appearance of lace funerary attire. Small vermin scuttled around their ankles attempting to climb their legs, and chased each other over the bodies of birds piling up on the ground. Flies arrived in the thousands, and consumed the ethers in eagerness and group assault.

“Once upon a time there was no Earth life as we know it now. There was just the Etheric Land of Faerie.”

“Faerie was a place of purity - an adjunct of the Heavenly planes - subordinate to the Higher worlds - and its population was innocent to the forces of anti-nature and decay. Death was unknown. Faerie had thought itself incorruptible, and up until the time of Eden, it was.

“A place of grace and eternal sunlight - of prosperity and bourgeoning growth, of possibility and inventive magic - the seat of Creation, the home of all souls - and a family incorporating the many Kingdoms within. This was Faerie then …” he sighed.

Eve could have sworn she saw a small tear appear in the crease of his eye. Puck paused and said something in another language under his breath. She noted just how handsome this complex being was.

He went on: “It was the dark gods that introduced chaos into the realm, not the Mortals that entertained them. One brought death, and the other a fixed and imitative life - one brought disintegration and the other static - both conditions are deadly to the magical realm.”

“The world of men was soon controlled by false memory and a false economy.”

“It was an asp with a two pronged tongue that inoculated the two evils into the realm, and it has had shadows of this to deal with ever since.”

The dying birds behind them began to shriek with the almost deafening sound of cicadas. A low hum seeped out from the black sap that was oozing from the trees - it looked like old blood, dropping in clots onto the muddy ground beneath. The leaves above were losing their grip, and mostly had littered the bottom, exposing boughs that were now draped with tendrils of purple ivy.

“What have I done?” asked Jupiter out loud.

Eve remembered back to feeling something very similar, but she could not place exactly what. She certainly knew the feeling of dread to follow.

Puck read her wondering.

“If only I could turn back time on this one.” He winced.

Jupiter put his hand onto one shoulder, partly to comfort Puck and partly to steady himself.

“I had become prideful” he said, genuinely admonishing himself. “There were few things I bethought beyond me.”

“Steady on, interjected Jupiter … you never managed to solve world war or mass hunger, I really don’t think you did much at all before …”

“I need Goober” he conceded.

And as soon as this was said, it was done. Goober appeared out of absolutely nowhere right before the astonished three standing in a pool of sewer spill.

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

Sack of Fairy Dust

Meanwhile in Faerie Land: Tu and Goober were having a catch up - the kind you have where a special space in the universe incorporates just the two of you perfectly. There is great solace in such moments of confiding - the confidence that comes with the sharing of a confidence - and although Goober had never fought in an army and Tu had not the far reaching memories of the seasoned Elvish, they had found a common ground, those two souls there together in Faerie.

“Here” said Goober, “take some of this with you” he motioned, picking up a handful of dirt and putting it into Tu’s rucksack directly.

“What is that?” the young Monk asked.

“Faerie dust,” said Goober … “most useful in the Mortal world - but you would be wise to use it sparingly - a little is all yer need.”

Tu was just about to ask him as how to use this dust, when Goober disappeared in front of him, without warning, right before his eyes.

Tu turned around thinking that Goober was hiding, or behind him - he stayed, looking expectantly, for he had grown so used to the tall Elf being at his side. It was unthinkable for him to have gone. And, leave him especially here.

Curiously he did not feel too badly as he might have done. He checked himself and a minute later realised that he was feeling perfectly fine - albeit all alone. The air of 

Faerie agreed with him, and his health was restored, his mind was calm, and his composure had returned.

What could possibly go wrong?

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

Swamp Monsters

Appearing like swamp monsters, four figures arose from the lake covered in a shroud of mud, groaning and complaining their way up and out of the water, dragging their slimy feet onto the banks.

“What are they?” Eve asked and then added, “what are they saying? is it another language?”

“These are the four that caused this calamity” said Jupiter sulkily - he absentmindedly touched his wrist where the elderly witches had constrained him. He was deeply embittered now about the whole experience.

The four figures were standing right in front of them babbling all together. It was not possible to see their eyes through the slather that coated their heads caked so thick in the their hair it was like a helmet stuck fast. They would not stop their mutterings beneath it - there were whines of complaint and protest.

“I can’t make out what they are saying”, said Eve, who sensed their discomfort by their cacophony of tones.

“That’s because I turned off their speech”, said Puck blithely.

“Turned off?” asked Eve, surprised at his casualness.

“Yes, you can do that here, if you find someone’s dialogue interruptive.”

“And thank the heavens for it I say” added Jupiter.

“It’s really a thing?” she asked disbelievingly,

“Yes, it’s a thing. I’ve done it to you several times when we needed to concentrate.”

That hurt.

“Oh” said Eve quietly, “I see …”

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

Was this Enchantment?

He shook himself to toss off the spurs when the blanket came away, and looked steadily at his captors. Jon could not believe his eyes - for right before him stood his stepmother. She was barely older than himself - dressed completely in green with a circlet of pearls around her neck - he almost did not recognise her. Winding up her arm were three beaten gold bangles, with deer and rabbits embossed upon them here and there chasing each other around her arm - and her feet were sandalled as he had not seen before. A perfume reached out to him that was of musk and moss, and forest rain. She seemed to be in good health, and by his judgement, most affluent too.

“Mama”, he addressed her as he had been taught to do.

She fondly brushed the dirt from his shoulders and glanced at the group that had walked him to this hideaway place, and they fell back in obeisance, disappearing into the trees once again. Only the short monk remained. 

“I live with the Elven community now”, she said affectionately - in a manner to put him at ease as quickly as possible. “They took me in and gave me everything I have.”

“Was this enchantment?” Jon asked himself - “Or a madness? Brain embargo? She had, after all, suffered so many blows to her head from Pa …”

“You should call me Isabelle - we both know that I am not truly your mother.” She was speaking plainly with a note of kindness and not in any way being immodest he noted. Thank the Gods. Isabelle appeared to be a relaxed and happy maiden, the likes he had not seen before.

Jon was much relieved to be pardoned from calling her ‘mother’. It had stung his tongue to have to name her such when he had missed his own true mother so sorely.

“Isabelle it is” he said, as he followed her deeper into the forest.

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

Stuck on the Road

Black pitch was melting in the heat - this was an experimental roadwork that had failed and the main arteries connecting the south to the sea had become tacky and unmanageable. Jon stopped to inspect his horse’s left front shoe to pry out the small balls of tar lodged within them.

He would have to cross the country and leave this impossible path. Abandoned carriages, lying sideways with missing wheels lay hunchback at the side of the sweating roadway. It simply would not do well to continue on like this. He was however loath to leave the sticky highway for the woods: it seemed an impossible choice. Recently there had been talk of scrubbers hiding out there (which they were called, as they lived and hid in the thorny scrub).

Jon paused to contemplate returning home - but he could not bring himself to forsake Zithia - who he felt almost sure would never have left him obligingly - and now, it was his task alone to save her.

He turned his horse sideways and pulled Chester from the tacky track into the mildewy forest that was dank with mouldy slime and cloistered in weeds.

* * *

Several tedious hours later he dismounted in a clearing by a brook. His mottled horse was drinking plentifully. Jon unravelled a knob of cooked meat from a linen pocket.

“Care to share?” came a voice from nowhere. Jon looked around yet could not see where the voice was coming from. Perfectly camouflaged, a very small but portly Friar stepped out of the brush towards him.

“Are ye a Chrystian man?” asked the small Monk to Jon, whose mouth was dry and still managing the salty meat.

Usually if no one is trying to talk with you a slow consumption is satisfying, making the meal more adequate. He grunted and nodded and turned his back to pull on a saddle bag, hoping the midget would go away. But the small Monk took hold of the Chester’s rope and tugged him back from the river.

“You canna take my ride! Get away with you now and leave us, by peace!” he blurted. The day was getting worse, and as it was, Chester was all he had left right now.

“I’m not taking your ride from you,” said the rotund man appearing to be quite offended, and with that he flung the saddle blanket from the horse over Jon’s head and three woodsmen stepped out from the trees to wrap the rope around him and bundle him back over Chester like a sack of turnips.

Through the coarse wool he could still hear voices - a deep callous one said: “Is this the one?”

Jon thought quickly … they had not found his purse as yet … nor had they beaten him. There was still yet a possibility in all of this, he surmised hopefully.

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

Heavenly Picnic Boxes

“Have you ever heard of bad fairies?” asked Puck to Eve in a serious tone.

He had found both her and Jupiter, a heavenly picnic box each and they were working their way through the contents. Heavenly picnic boxes can be found all throughout the upper planes of the Cosmos: they have an uncanny ability to change what is inside of them according to the wants and needs of the way-fare-er. It’s a cosmic secret, that one way or another, all beings love to eat - even though you do not really need the provisions for sustenance when going about the upper worlds for ‘energetic replenishment’ is naturally there to draw from just about everywhere.

Eve peered into Jupiter’s box. She had bottled water, he had a silver goblet. She had an egg and lettuce sandwich (which she enjoyed and happened to just feel like eating), while he had clumps of seasoned mango. There were some clots of meat in his box also.

“It's actually vegan (not real) - you can’t get the real stuff here” … he said guessing her thoughts. He continued: “it's a hangover from life as Granoldi.”

“Oh” she said realising a very different side to her once house guest.

“Would you have eaten me?” she asked carefully.

“No … at least I don’t think so.” he said, playfully.

“Where’s your box?” asked Eve to Puck who was tinkering with a bicycle.

“Oh me? not hungry” he said absentmindedly.

He stood up and placed the bicycle leaning against a tree.

“Getting back to what I was saying - have you ever heard of bad fairies? The type that bring curses on circumstances and evil to people?”

“You mean the ones that cause chaos?” She had sensed beings of destruction from time to time in small miseries and upset - and there was an undercurrent of delight coming from somewhere - especially when her internet would drop out.

“Yes, but what I am alluding to are those creatures that are consciously malevolent - not just mischievous or bad tempered - but truly sinister and intentionally harmful.”

“Does such a creature exist?”

“Yes they exist” said Puck grimly. “Those four that were coming to you for free meals were such beings.”

“You mean to tell me that those sweet elderly people were really bad fairies? not even human at all?”

“Well once they were human, but not when you met them. In every one of them the human soul had long gone - they were deceased in a manner of speaking and the fairy took over what was left of them.”

“That is horrible”, said Eve still finding this difficult to comprehend.

Granoldi concurred - “he’s right, I can definitely confirm that. Those four were, well, hobbling drakools.”

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

Portal for Re-entry of Human Souls

“You don’t understand - everything - everything that happens here is played out in the Mortal realm. This lake is a portal for the re-entry of the human souls; and on an average day one can see the spirits in the waters circling, waiting, for their personal cosmic configuration to return back into the earthly realm - that time and into what hemisphere the coordinates determine - and it is from this place in Heaven that their passage begins.”

Eve caught her breath, alarmed at Puck’s low level of panic. She looked across at the bubbling mass that extended into the horizon. It had started to ferment on its own filth.

“How in God’s name did this actually happen?” asked Jupiter genuinely perplexed. He looked like a super-hero who had just lost his strength.

“Well,” said Puck, “clearly this is all your fault.”

“Well”, returned Jupiter, “that explains everything of course”, resenting the comment.

“Clearly” he added a moment later, sensing a pun in relation to the mirk before them. Jupiter was usually living on the edge of a frivolity - his light side would always broadcast in preference to his sober side. And this, in part, was his attraction to becoming Granoldi, if for nothing more than the very humour of it.

It was his mother who had first introduced Jupiter to the divine humours. Firstly in form, and then in behaviours - humour, she had said, was really the absolute key to this Universe - would that it was known … for the great Creator of all smiled as He created, and ever since His Creation manifest, smiles also. The four legged, those with wings, those who stand upon two - the rivers, and the stars - all have a playfulness amidst the bump and grind of cyclical eventualities.

And now that part of the Heavens he dwelt in had become so serious, and dark, and, so very smelly.

Eve had gone to sit under a silver boughed tree. The atmosphere was deeply intoxicating to her she was now in a state of half sleep.

“She’ll remember nothing of this when she gets back” said Puck.

“If she gets back," corrected Jupiter, still miffed at Puck’s blaming him.

Puck, who had transported mortals into the upper worlds at times of great grief to give them a reprieve, generally found that solace was a place, a very real place to take them, beside this once beautiful lake. He shuddered at the thought that the contamination might spreading fast now even further.

“Firstly we need to understand exactly how this done.” Jupiter’s eyes stung with tears, and his alabaster skin flushed with heat. The young god with head bowed was taken with grief. Puck clenched his teeth - he had one dozy mortal and one panicked god - not the best team to work with at a time like this. I wonder where Goober is right now? he pondered, scanning the ethers for his old friend.

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

Stolen in the Night

It was midday when Jon woke with a pulsing head and strained eyes, to see a line of coins … small golden coins - laid out upon his mantle. The fire in the hearth had disappeared, and being Winter’s eve, it was cold, so very cold within his little house. And worst of all, Zithia had disappeared also.

When Jonathon realised that Zithia had not returned, he immediately felt a rock in his stomach, a cold hard rock of upset. Up until now he had forgotten what it had been like to have his loved ones simply vanish from his life - and this felt doubly troublesome … for all of their time together Jon had never acknowledged what she was to him. They had lived so perfectly together the two had blended into one, and he had not thought of it. Now it was that everyone had left him one way or another.

This confusion he felt quickly shed into rage, as it occurred to him that it was Tindle who had literally stolen her from his house in the night - and the coins placed there were nothing but a sarcastic and very sinister token to have been left in her place for exchange, indicating this to be true.

He collected them up into his handkerchief along with the night’s leftovers and stuffed them into his saddle bag. He then filled a flask from the urn, gathered two blankets hurriedly (one for himself and one for his horse), took a few minutes more to relieve himself and say a hurried prayer, before departing out onto the road to go find her.

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

Across a Crowded Room

Ten years passed with Jon living rough with Zithia at his side: an unlikely pair: Jon approaching his thirty-fifth year, and Zithia, her eighteenth.

They had looked after one another as brother and sister do; and although Zithia was almost a woman, Jon did not see her as such, he simply cared for her protectively, as she also cared for him.

Where romance was entertained, Jon still pined for his spirit-love Fatima - who was long gone pursuing the cosmic circuit - carefree, and far from the Mortal world of woe.

He really had no sense of her presence anymore, just the fantastical recollection of their short time together in youthful love.

The day was prosperous as Jonathon had just completed a consignment of two dozen tankards for the Blood and Bone Sheffield Tavern. The establishment itself welcomed the community and travellers alike. It was the town’s best meeting place - it being the one common ground where nobles could intermix with the lower classes freely with true and genuine friendships. Business also was transacted in the Blood and Bone with its low lamps lit, pelts on the whitewash walls and trophies hanging from beams. There was an atmosphere of abundance, with platters of cooked meats (mainly rabbit) and complementary breads well shared.

Zithia followed closely behind Jon carrying a tray of the newly forged tankards. She was always mistaken to be his servant, and this brought a certain prestige to Jon - even though it was not true.

This young woman had all the grace and presence of an Egyptian princess. Her long hair was jet black, her teal green eyes were framed with a natural mascara of luxurious eyelashes, and her complexion was of warm mahogany. Zithia had not grown very much in height, being barely five foot tall, and she was often mistaken to be just a young girl.

She would sing unusual songs that were unknown to Jon … the melody was so intoxicating they sometimes collected income for them, from her street recitals when resources were poorly.

However, of late there had been no need to put the cap out, as Jonathon’s foundry was prospering - so much so, that he now owned a thatched cottage that was situated only two miles from the town, that had rooms enough for them both, and a fireside workshop as well to work his metal.

Theirs was as a harmonious relationship as one could wish for. She anticipated his needs from morning to night, supplementing his day with all kinds of nourishment, whilst he looked after the world and its worries, housing the two of them safely, with clothing and warmth, protection, and the food that they needed.

The tavern was half-lit preparing for the night and already filled with a haze of smoke that carried across its enormous hall within. There was just the one open space inside, and three huge fire grates running along its north wall. The farmers had begun drifting in, and Jon had to push through a small crowd just to empty his cart and go find the patron.

A sharp tap on his shoulder from behind startled him and Jon dropped his tray of eight cups sending them clashing onto the stone floor beneath, rolling under many feet. Zithia had gone ahead. She did not see the giant who proceeded to pick Jon up under his arms and swing him around like a rag doll.

“Tindle? Oh Lord! Tindle!” exclaimed a very surprised and happy Jon, picking himself up from the ground he had been dropped upon. The crowd had moved into a small circle, pressing in, to see what was going down. Zithia tried to see also, but could not squeeze through the men watching.

Meanwhile, Jon decided to play to his home crowd, and rushed at Nathan as hard and fast as he could, head first, grabbing at his knees, and pushing him backwards into the group that then took the weight of his bulk, and were considerably displeased by the bruising that came of it. Jon then took a half empty tank from a tray and tipped the liquid onto Tindle’s head; and to finish off, hurled a bread scone at his chest in jest, followed by another and another, until the joke soured completely.

For what appeared outwardly to be prank had also an undertow of child-like pain for Jon resented his one and only friend (before Zithia) leaving him as he did. Tindle had walked away from him without a thought or care, and this was the first he had seen him in ten whole years. This stung.

Tindle was keenly aware now of the underlying angst when Jon started stuffing lamb’s brains down his smock top. The small gathering had been largely amused, for by all appearances their Jon Jon was attacking a newcomer who dwarfed him by two feet or more.

Tindle did not take the pelting unkindly - he was so pleased to see Jon alive … he surveyed the room, realising that a set of dark eyes was upon him, and he quickly mistook her intent to be more than curiosity. Tindle had never seen such a girl before. The seaside port conveyed exotics frequently, but he had seen no one like this ‘siren’ who was now watching him. Zithia glowed in the candlelamp light, her woollen cowl of pale apricot had fallen back exposing her dark shoulders, and her silken hair, as black as a raven’s coat, curtained her face, cascading down her slender back. All of this he saw amidst the chaos.

She was only half his size - he liked this also. The ale-soaked room fell away and his mind went to his purpose that had taken him on this journey inland … namely to find a wife.

I have found her! he said decidedly to himself. He then picked Jon up, and threw him over his shoulder, he then carried him outside to the adjacent stables into the bite of the cold night air.

Tindle persuaded Jon to let him stay at his cottage, and Jon readily agreed being so joyous that this could occur.

That night the two drank until they slept - having shared stories, past midnight. Ordinarily their paths were so oblique in common life, the one would have not have had anything to do with the other - there was so little shared experience to be had concerning the decade behind them.

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

Crystal Clear

The lanky tall Elf had taken his eyes off Tu for only a few minutes, to speak with a gardener who had approached him about beans. The gardener had looked quite frantic and was incredibly excited to see Goober back in the homeland. Meanwhile Tu had been helping himself to a cup of water at the well from a crystal Goblet. (The Goblet was of course an invention of the Goblins, who crafted these drinking vessels out from clear crystal Quartz.)

“Stop! how much have you drunk?” yelled Goober insistently, when he realised what was to come next.

This well appeared similar to many of the other wells in Faerie - except for the sign in Elvish script engraved in its stone saying:

“Beware all who drink here”.

Tu obviously had not read the sign.

Goober put his hand to his forehead and closed his eyes.

“Oh Gawd, what did you have to do that for?” Of course he knew it was he himself that was to blame.

Tu stepped back … already his eyes were beginning to haze over. He quickly sat on the ground, the world had gone dark … he could hear voices but he could no longer see anything.

There was a rush of hot air around him - hot moist air - and the sweet fragrances had been replaced with the stench of burning … or more accurately - flesh burning.

He could hear a clashing and a banging. The sound was familiar, but he couldn’t quite place what it was, and worse still, coming to him, closer and closer, were the sounds of men crying mournfully, with the occasional scream puncturing the dense air about him. It was too dark to make out where he was, and what was happening.

He closed and opened his eyes, yet it was still the same either way. Tu clenched his fists with tension and attempted to stand up with his back against the well wall; he leant shakily on the shelf there … the stones felt slimy, perhaps moss? But no. It was a much thicker, stickier texture. 

In a strange way all of this seemed very familiar. If his depression had been let out of a bag, this is what he might have heard or sensed following him for all of his days. But no. It is an impossible thought. His depression manifest?

The ethers were beginning to lighten, and he could make out shapes in the mist in the half dark now. Vaguely as though in a the most terrible dream, Goober’s voice could be heard in the distance. Perhaps he had been transported somewhere else, he did not know, but he seemed very far away from his friend, and was helpless with the hellish noises all about.

As though there was a theatre curtain revealing what lies behind, so too there came to the Master, a vision of a bloodied and dismembered mass now fully lit. Hundreds of bodies, a tangle of metal, ruptured by yet more metal; maidens laid bare, old women broken boned, contorted, cradling infants - and he knew what this scene was in front of him - it was the vision of his legacy.

“They are not real my boy” came Goobers voice - “they are just memories of what passed long ago. When you drank from the well it revealed to you your overshadowing burden.”

“This, this then is all mine?” asked Tu, still caught between the vision and Goober’s voice. But he knew inwardly the answer. He knew in this instantaneous recall that this was of a time where he had led the charge that caused this suffering and death.

All in the name of good. It was a revelation. So much had happened since, where he had been buffeted through lifetimes of disarray running from this ineffable truth. This was on him. this scene of dereliction was his.

“No wonder I’ve been depressed” he said.

And as soon as he had said this, he was returned ever so swiftly back into the sunlight of Faerie.

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

Faerie, this Kingdom

It is easier said than done to transport a mortal into the realm of Faerie and have them remain conscious … the reason for this being that their consciousness is usually rooted in the Mortal realm and always, most naturally, will return there. 

As well as that, the scenery can be so changeable in the land of Faeries … one moment something is maybe there and then it disappears or morphs into something else. It’s a tricky place to navigate. As endearing and charming as most of the inhabitants, the wildlife, and the landscapes are, they are forever changing, and it is difficult for a mortal to find their bearings amongst this plasticity, and keep hold of their sense of place.

However, those with some faerie blood are more adaptable and it was this that Goober was counting on.

The very moment that Tu set foot into Faerie land with Goober at his side his misery lifted, and he found exactly what he had been looking for for a very long time.

He felt instantly at home.

What a remarkable landscape it was. Not to mention, the very clouds in the sky, they took on shapes - it was as an artistry - sensational performing pictures unfurling right before his eyes. If you looked up you could see all manner of faces, of forms, of animals, dancing across the blue canopy, in white: gently shaded and contoured, regal then comical, mythical, and so very real he could see their faces staring down at him. Unfurling and changing into the most beautiful panorama of expression.

It was as though these forms were impressions of scenes and beings that were somewhere else … he made a mental note to study them at a later time. And then Goober drew his attention to the atrium to which they were walking. This also was like no other.

“I feel I should explain to you something of this realm”, said Goober, “to put it in perspective … Mortals have long thought of Faerie as a place of no real consequence, that it is not to be believed, and that it is only made of the substance of dreams and fantasy: that somehow it is less substantial than the world of their own.

“This could not be further from the truth. When the physical world was born, Faerie, this Kingdom, was and is, the original Garden from which all else came from. The Gods preserved it in the event that the Mortal world deteriorated into something less recognisable.

“This realm is the blueprint from which yours unfurls. This place is the original - it speaks to the truth of spirit and the creativity of the Cosmos, whilst your world is an arena that departs this, and the heavens.”

Tu looked down at his feet. He had the weirdest sensation that they weren’t quite touching the ground. As he moved along beside Goober it was as though thought propelled them, rather than the effort of the knee - it was a curious thing.

And the path itself was made up of tiles and the tiles had engravings in every sixth or seventh one, not hieroglyphs as such, or symbols, but curlicues and cottage art.

The air, he found, was sublime. Tu used to love the fragrance of the wood fire or the scent of a girl, or the smell of a fresh and ripened fruit, this air was something else, it was even more delicious, he breathed deeply and closed his eyes.

“Are you alright my boy?” Goober asked.

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

Tu Saves the Day

“I’ve grown rather partial to boiled eggs” said Goober starting in on his fifth one.

Tu looked across the table in disgust. The smell of sulphur, and the crack and crunch of the shell, was truly irritating.

“I need something more, the quiet here is getting on my nerves again.”

Goober took one of the eggs and spun it on the table it kept its momentum for a full minute before wobbling and toppling and sliding to the floor.

“Where would you like to go?” the aged Elvish gardener asked the young Sensei.

“Anywhere but here” he answered dolefully.

This repeating depression was becoming as predictable as the seasons, Goober thought.

“Very well” he said decidedly. His angular face softened and he whispered some words which were inaudible to Tu who now had his head in his hands.

“You’ve had a pretty rugged time Richard, if we go back into the present, you know …it's pretty fast, and, I am worried that with too much pressure again you’ll start drinking and Ill have to pick you up from the road - it's not a good look”, Goober added sincerely.“Richard? Why did you call me Richard just now?”

Goober paused and said casually, “Oh I just think of you more a Richard or a Ricky, than rather Brogan or Tu. Tu does not feel right as a name at all. Besides, what was your name again, before you came to the monastery?”

Tu fell silent. He could not relate to his life before the monastery, it was all a blur. It had felt, in one word, unsatisfactory. Nothing seemed to bring him joy except for the sun the wind and the trees. The city had little to offer - it was all too noisy, and he had not been able to find company that was relatable.

The thing was: Tu had faerie blood and it was this that made him restless. It's not something that you can find in the physical body, it is faerie blood that one carries from one life to the next, from origins and experiences - he just didn’t know it.

Goober would have liked to ask Puck his opinion on this, but Puck had taken himself off somewhere out of contact. And so Goober decided the time was right for a change -

“Hows about a trip to Faerie Land?” he said with all the cheer he could muster.

Tu was unresponsive - it was as though he had not heard him.

Ignoring this Goober continued: “I'm pretty sure you’ll like it there - it might be the getaway you’ve been needing.”

Tu knew that Goober was not one to be sarcastic or whimsical - he was a straight up type of guy - nevertheless he had thought this conversation was pretty empty and very possibly Goober was making fun of him.

“Sure” he replied, “why not? I’ve nothing else planned for tomorrow - let me get my diary out, and I’ll save the day.”

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

To Second Guess Yourself is to have a Conscience

J. S. Lowry

Jupiter was encouraged. In truth, he had only seen the mortal world as an inconsequential parlour of a fleeting and fanciful drama, with costumes and language and a lot of death - oh yes, there was a lot of death. The mortals came and went so very quickly from that plane of existence, and in the most spurious ways. One could not really think of it as meaning much … at least, not until now.

Perhaps he had only seen the Physical World through the eyes of the Bear and this was the problem - he had never really been a proper human being as they were, perhaps his casual nature with the lesser world was just that. Seen through the eyes of a convivial beast - yes that could be it, and this was now to be his truth going forward.

Eve said excitedly, “and so to second guess yourself is to have a conscience - to question yourself … of course! this makes perfect sense.”

“Yes one can never really do that enough, can they? Sometimes I am so bound up thinking I know what is right and wrong and what I am doing myself, but I really need to keep questioning don’t I? Complacency is dangerous in and of itself, I can see that now - I must broaden my area of knowledge, I must widen my heart to encompass so much more, and I must hope above hope, that I have the strength to defend the defenceless. Oh I do feel inspired in this place” she said half forgetting the Azlan had visited just moments before, for the vision of him was now leaving but that which he had imparted had remained.

“So what now Brother?” said Jupiter turning to Puck, adding: “I am surely not diving into that mess, that we may return …”

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

Azlan Brought a Radiance

“You have been playing a dangerous game my son.” came a voice from the vines beside. 

It was the Azlan. The Azlan brought a radiance also, far stronger than that of either Puck or Jupiter - his emanated a calm all about - and instantly the three felt settled by his presence.  

They waited a cosmic minute for his words to follow. 

“My Dears - 


“Light and Darkness are never balanced. Nor is Good and Evil. One cannot balance a something with a nothing. 

“The mystery behind the disruptive forces of chaos and evility is that these particulars cannot even commit to themselves - they are their own undoing - and the foulness that would corrupt, corrupts itself.  

“Those who align with evility invite their own destruction. Our crusade, as caretakers of the Spirit - the One Spirit - is to remain indifferent to the theatre of destruction, and be true to the permanency of all that is good.”  

It was here that Jupiter spoke up.  


“But if all there is is to do nothing, how can that help? Are we to watch yet other parts of our realm become dispossessed and corrupted likewise?” 


The great Lion stamped one paw, and then another, and the whole ground beneath them shook. He then spun around effortlessly and Eve momentarily was worried that he was about to disappear without giving them more of those incredibly insightful words. Words that spoke to her inner Eve. 

“When you hear a truth you never forget it. It is an immortal gift. When you hold a truth it changes you from the inside out. And when you think of that truth, you become a little bolder and brighter every time.” 

Eve had not been frightened of the great Lion. She wanted to hear more from him. He scuffed the ground and then looked up directly up into her eyes. 

He looked at her for a steady moment and then not, taking his attention back to Jupiter. 

“You are asking if you should fight Evil my Son, for what I have told you speaks to the peace of outcome and the self apparent truth that goodness will prevail, as has always done …

“But in the intermediate, where we are contested, and wish only to stop the harm, I tell thee thus:

“When a good soul turns a blind eye to Evil there is a little more corruption because of this. When nothing is done, that could be done, Evil is empowered all the more. It is a bewildering truth, that at times the gods themselves have felt safe enough within their own realm, and distant enough, from the perils of the lesser Worlds, that even they have not invested themselves in this fight.

“And by their own complacency they are remit. And by ignorance and aloofness and such high mindedness that turns away from the struggles and trials of the Mortals this epi-theatre grows. And this is a living proof of the reach of Evil’s contamination if so allowed.


“To second guess yourself is to have a conscience. To be able to ask: what do I want, what can be done, what should be done? What have I done?

“And the noble path asks, that be us Man or God, we be vigilant in righting wrongs within ourselves, and that of our outer self. 

"And we shall be defenders of the peace, of the one true Spirit, that sustains and upholds the freedoms of all.” 


Puck wanted to give an almighty cheer when he heard this, or a little whoop at least, for he was, as they say, dancing on the inside to hear the Azlan speak once more - however this occasion was too solemn to distract the other two with his feelings. He looked across at the dark waters and was just about to ask the Azlan what could be done to solve this problem of infiltration but the Azlan had gone.

“He never could stay in any one place for any length of time.” Puck said apologetically to Eve whose expression was now quite sad. 


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

East of the Nirvanic Regions

Spiky Lee

All three were standing at the water’s edge - where the Divine pool of the Lesser Heavens reflected inwardly, on a usual day - east of the Nirvanic regions, graced with a fifth season of perennial calm, shining gold and silver depending on the light - gateway to all Worlds beneath, a fluid embodiment of all times pooled together, and a mirror to the upper worlds, being the connecting link to the physical realm as well - yet today it was black - black and thick, as thick as mud.

Puck himself had the jitters seeing this dark disturbance. The waters had putrified, solidified, and its energy was all but a low Tibetan-like hum.

“I’ve done this.”

“No, they’ve done this …” he assured Jupiter, inwardly blaming him regardless.

Jupiter felt as though he had woken from a very long sleep. What had he been thinking? Was this worth it? He dipped a stick into the tar-like sludge and it stayed, standing upright.

“It looks and smells like excrement” said Eve casually, thinking that she had been taken to the edge of a sewer farm. She had somehow been transported with the two the moment Granoldi had strode back into the apartment just moments earlier. Eve had assumed that this whole scenario was nothing more than a silly dream. She found herself enjoying the atmosphere of the Lesser Heavens, regardless of the two looking so concerned. Overall she felt pretty good.

Eve looked over at Puck who was smearing some of the mud onto a wide leaf and wrapping it tightly with a vine - she noticed his hair looked lit by a light that came from nowhere and was trailing almost to his belt - he was wearing a fine cotton shirt that seemed to change colour every few minutes. The effect was very trippy.

Beside him was an exceedingly tall and muscular man who appeared angelic in countenance, in that he had a white kaftan so fine that the sun shone through with what seemed to be an aura that followed his every movement. He seemed familiar. No, she did not feel disturbed at all - even with the smell of turds now all around her.

However the Elvish gods were devastated by what was before them - their minds were not clouded by the upper atmosphere - for the Heavenly ethers brought them clarity, unlike the Mortals; it breathed a complex intelligence into the cosmic fields which magnetically restored their own health as well.

“I don’t like this at all” said Jupiter, now becoming nervous within his own soul. 

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

The Recklessness of Jupiter

Tijana Lukovic

Granoldi had been through all of this before, periodically throughout the centuries there would be those mortals who would hold him captive, torture him, for one reason or another it made them feel grand to do so; yet this day however was different for he had fallen in with the dark occult arts. 

His irritation and disgust motivated him very quickly into action. With one swift movement the three hundred kilogram bear pulled his arms out from the chains and the bleeding apparatus (that was still pumping), pushed on the cage door with the force of ten men, and magicked the padlocks into springing open.

They had certainly underestimated his strength and willpower when roused. He then, one by one, pushed Peter and Violet to the ground, followed by Letitia who was hurrying feebly away - followed by an almighty slap to Bryan across the face, engraving four distinct claw marks into his cheek.

There had been a wailing and a moaning, but it had not come from Granoldi. The four lay on the apartment floor shredded by the claws of the great White Bear.

* * *

Meanwhile back in Eve’s apartment, Puck had been trying to say, just who and what the Fairy Bear was. But he found it near impossible to frame the words to explain why a young god would want worldly experience as he had.

“It’s just like a human youth who takes a drug and become less than themselves, and their consciousness dissipates into a void of life … perhaps this is the recklessness of Jupiter when he gives over to a random happening here. I watch over him whenever I can. Be more worried for those that have taken him, for he truly can look after himself.”

Eve had felt something inside of her drawn to this bear, yet she still had not the vivid reckoning of any past life recall: she just knew in his essence there was, for her, a magnetic pull of wonderment and great attraction. She felt she needed to be close to this being, whoever or whatever he is. He was her sun to which she would orbit. All of this she kept quiet, but of course Puck could read these thoughts and in turn respected her desires. It was he, after all, that had brought Granoldi to her, knowing of their past together back in the early years of the Franciscan community. It was what it was.

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

Out of Place

Eve felt fragile with worry finding out that Granoldi had escaped to God knows where from the safety of her keep.

She was finding it hard to think straight - or even at all - this day had turned out to be so disturbing.

Needles sat (invisibly) on the other side of her on the couch tuned into her upset - he was unnerved terribly, as he was now so synchronised to her mind and mood he was feeling her feelings acutely.

“We have to find him” she said urgently all at once to Puck, who answered:

“Before we do I need to tell you a few things I think you need to know.”

Eve had heard a few stories from him in their narrow past but this did not seem an appropriate time …

He persisted - “this is important Eve”, he took her hand in his, getting her attention.

“There once was a young god - Jupiter - who for many reasons - too many to mention now - felt the urge to enter into the realm of Earth …”

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

Dark Path to the Wizard

It appeared that the older these elderly four had grown the more ambitious they had become to acquire a strength of immortal proportions at any cost.

Over the years together they had done a great many things to achieve what they believed would bring them power, and youth, using various rituals with vampiristic means. To look at them it was obvious that none of this had worked. They were not exceptionally powerful or magnetic, and there was nothing outstanding about any one of them.

And yet they still had hope, and a faith of their own. In all of this striving there was a larger character motivating the group unseen - one that they that they had adhered to for decades - and it was hard to say if they had found him during a mad incantation, or if he had found them and inflamed their delusions of greatness.

Romulus was a foul character of dark design. He was, one could say, the Wizard of Oz of the black arts: and they, the four, the alter egos finding their way on this dark path to the concealed tower.

Yes, this is a very good picture tale … of a mirror world, where human life is so distorted, upside down and back to front, and the souls involved have truly lost their way, believing in a misguided chance for a never-won prize that would have been theirs anyway, should they have travelled the moral road instead of the greedy one.

And just alike to the Wizard of Oz, Romulus kept himself concealed, and their communications were brief but to the point, and in this also, he was always arms-length to the evil they perpetuated.

Peter had a personal history of military service for which he was most proud and of the four he was the least the squeamish at doing what he believed had to be done.

The room stunk of burnt fur, as Peter had been setting light to Granoldi watching his white curls frizzle back to a pale pink skin beneath.

Lettie had been poking him with her knitting needles - and even though Granoldi was secured well she kept her distance, by using her foot long prongs.

“Don’t poke the bear” laughed Bryan repeating himself.

The other three failed to see the funny side of this - their minds have converted to literal speak only and simple humour was as impossible to this sinister lot, as was doing a pushup.

Any simple joy or happiness had departed them same moment they pledged themselves to the push and pull of the will of Romulus.

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

Bryan, a Scholar

“Don’t poke the Bear”, Bryan chuckled, strutting around him as though he were ten foot taller.

The old woman laughed a tobacco-worn raspy laugh beside him. This would usually get on Bryan’s nerves, but today he would let it pass, for today he was too absorbed with the capture.

The occult four had been aware of Granoldi’s presence for some time. Not only did they see he was a bear hiding out in the flat above, but they had the inner knowledge of who and what Granoldi was, and this was very dangerous.

Old Peter had wet himself with excitement. To capture a god was a dream come true. Granoldi was still in a half-sleep half-wake condition. Whenever he would rouse from his journeying in the spiritual worlds back into earth, his consciousness was slow to resume. Added to this his demeanour was generally so affable that he allowed the ropes and plastic ties (the type with teeth) to constrain him as they pushed him into the waiting cage.

They had plotted and planned for some weeks.

The activist Peter had believed that all possessions belonged to him and thought nothing of the taking for himself, even of another life. Yes, these four knew full well that Granoldi was no simple animal. They perceived the prize within. and by some mishap of imagined reflected glory thought to take power from the young god that he naturally emanated, expecting to make it for their own.

It wasn’t quite the kidnap one might think. When the four elderly stole away Granoldi from the flat, they used a key that Violet had taken some time ago. When Eve was out shopping she used to like exploring the knick knacks in the draws; Violet had always been something of a snoop. Although one might not have guessed this from her quiet demeanour.

Peter, Bryan, Violet and Leticia had simply gone in knowing that he was about to wake. Granoldi had no reason to doubt the seeming kindness of the elderly four. and they appeared to know him, and so he followed obligingly into the corridor and down to Violet’s apartment below.

It had started with the borrowing of the wheelchair when she knew something was up. Bryan, a scholar, in archaic mythology and occult demonology, was intrigued with her story she confided of discovering Granoldi in the bed.

“This is important enough to consult with the great one about” Bryan had said authoritatively.

And so it had begun.

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

Bear Gone

“What do you mean he’s gone?”

“He’s gone, he’s gone I tell you.”

“How could that possibly happen - we have just been talking, I did not hear him … I didn’t hear the door, I didn’t hear him get up - what do you mean he’s gone? he can’t have gone, maybe he’s just gone to the bathroom.”

“Bears don’t go to the bathroom.” Puck snapped.

He couldn’t believe it, thinking out loud Puck said, “Perhaps Needles let him out, or took him down the street.”

"Needles, who’s Needles? What do you mean Needles?”

Puck sighed. How could this happen? “He’s his own man after-all.”

“What do you mean Man?”

Eve was really beginning to get worried.

“But he was asleep … maybe we woke him up, do you think?”

Puck sped out the door with Eve closely behind him, up the landing and into the street.

“You go that way, and I’ll head into the shops.” Puck said determined to find Grandoldi before he was taken into custody by some well meaning ranger, or worse still, a police officer using undue force.

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