Meeting Mark Forsythe

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Sixth Scents

Etheric Essences was a collection of energetic perfumes, whose vitality superseded other potencies captured in the aromatic fluids.

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

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

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

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

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Choosing of one's own Future Self

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He then vanished, leaving Charlene and her father wondering.


-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Selective Forgetfulness

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Evil makes people stupid

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes, if they are human they do."

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

"No, no doubt at all."

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

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

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Three Once Powerful Men

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

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

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

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

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

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

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Foibles on Toads

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

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

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

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

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

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

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series