With Trepidation

The three found that the walk through the court felt endless. "We should have come in from the other side of the pavilion?" Goober remarked in a hushed voice to Puck, thinking they had made their way the long way round. The little gold dog was trotting along behind.

"Shhh" came a cautionary voice, from a dwarf who sat with his family on the fifth row. "Typical" thought Nervina, already flustered by the ambience of this enormous hall.

Beneath their feet was a silver sand. This slowed the walking somewhat and got into the boots uncomfortably.

Goober was excited now, to him this was a pageant of sorts. Unlike Puck, this was his first time viewing the inner circle, and this depth of solemnity impressed him greatly.

Nervina was cringing with trepidation. He distinctly felt part of this Forsythe saga. He had no liking for the deeply serious, nor the superiority assumed here. Most of the company around him he found to be genuinely frightening and feared what they might see in his soul. He was finding it difficult to breathe and worried that he too might end up annihilated and lost eternally without ever having cake or friendship again.

They were seated just in time before the entire room darkened.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Hall of Judgement

Coming into the Hall of Judgement was daunting - it was the size of a small stadium and the power in the air bore a high velocity that the elves were unused to.

Goober had tried to text Pepper a message to let her know where they were and what they were up to - but the reception in there was non-existent.

A guide from the Old Sphere approached briskly and asked them to be silent as they were shown to their places within the court. He was a fine-featured spirit with a long pointed nose, and chiselled ears – ‘more elf than elf’, Nervina thought.

The rows of seats lay in semi circles and there were hundreds of onlookers already waiting in the amphitheatre looking down at them as they walked passed.

At the floor level there were forty-two tall thrones sitting approximately six feet apart from each other. Every one was carved in a polished onyx, detailed with intricate reliefs that displayed acts of sin and misfortune. They were specifically the deeds that incurred banishment from the earthly realm, artistically rendered into the furniture. Nervina wondered if these reminders were really necessary. Forty-two were a lot to have to walk past and view.

More disturbing still were the forty-two judges who sat high upon them. All were women, and each one was draped with a sheer black tunic and veil to match, as dark as midnight. It was impossible to see through them, save for a shadow of a bosom, or profile beneath this costume. But as to their age or expression, or whether they found favor or objection, the dark material concealed this perfectly.

This was the court of the Immortals. Humans went to Hell, but the Demi-gods and Demons came for their Judgement to this lofty place of perdition.

This was not a fate for the petty or transitory offenders. For most beings there is a karmic compass to reorientate the will and want. No, this was the end road for the indestructible spirits who foul the ethers without conscience, causing the gentle inhabitants of the earthly world unnecessary harm.

Here they listened to the final rants of the powerful, insatiable insubordinates, who defied the cosmic congenialities, overstepped authorities, blasphemed against the great and the Divine, caused death instead of furthering life; and above all, had declared themselves as God.

Marc-Marsden-Forsythe had breached these laws, taking license where he should not. The question was, would the conciliatory grace of the Angels now save him? Puck had hoped not. He was bitter and beyond consolation - tired of the games evility used, amusing only to themselves.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

The High Place of Truth

How impressive, thought Goober - treated to a hot spring spa - the Underworld really was proving to be a first class destination. Free robes too! What a great day.

They did not linger in the bathroom. Puck was keen to get back, and once again the three assembled in front of the palatial golden doors, waiting to be allowed inside. Looking up there was a sign above the mantle that read "That which is, IS".

"Methinks your tunic suits you well" Goober jibed Nervina, who was not sharing the mood at all.

Their costumes were quite plain - a simple robe such as spirit beings usually don, in comfortable folds, with a soft weave, all white, with fine belts of silver.

"I feel like I'm going to a wedding", said Goober cheerfully.

"You look like you're the ugly bride", said Nervina snakily.

"Will you two shut up,” said Puck a little tersely even for himself - he never snapped, but the air down there seemed to exaggerate the emotions terribly.

The usher returned and was satisfied. He permitted the huge doors to slowly yawn open. Goober gave the golden dog a farewell pat on its head when surprisingly the statue started to move, just as though it were a real dog waking from a sleep. He stood upright on the pillar, shook himself all over, stretched one little foot followed by another, and then leapt down, to follow them in.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

The Great Hall

Goober kept looking over his shoulder as they approached the Great Hall. Soon after they found themselves held up in the antechamber, blocked from getting any further.

"What is the hold-up do you think?" Nervina asked.

"Well they have their ways,” replied Puck, patiently.

It was rather large for a portico, and whilst the doors remained shut to them, they took their time viewing the artworks there, of which there were a many. Goober kept returning to a statue in gold of a small dog; it lay on a pillar facing out, and looked like a miniature greyhound - with pointed ears and sharpish snout.

"I hope we are not missing anything - they might have started without us" he said to Puck, leaning on the dog pillar.

Finally an usher arrived carrying a large bundle of clothing. His voice had the quality of treacle, Nervina thought to himself, in fact he smelt of treacle too. He had a strange way of speaking, for he chose not to look directly at any one of them whilst doing so. This made for awkward conversation.

"I have brought you more suitable garments" he said, looking sideways.

What were they thinking? They had forgotten themselves, and how earlier they had all dressed down to go out to the shelter ... jeans and sweaters were not worn in a place like this. He had a point.

"You must also get clean before being permitted to come in. I will now show you to the hot springs where you may enjoy the energising spa there. We suggest however, that you do not remain longer than thirty minutes as it begins to overtire the senses and you will find the vitality of it wearing."

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Infernal Affairs

There was a small dirt path that made its way to the gate that led to a car parking lot and a public garden.

In these grounds was a choir assembled at practice. It comprised of homeless men who were rehearsing their carols, preparing for the up and coming spiritual festivities.

Barnabus had grouped the choir together at a time when the local nursing home had wanted an act to replace the opera singer who had passed away. They also did gigs in shopping malls.

Beyond the fence "O Little town of Bethlehem" could be heard. The elves stood in the sunlight waiting, feeling melancholy listening to the words of that song.

They had not had a proper lunch, and the tea and biscuits just weren't enough to satisfy them at such a time. Puck tossed a milk crate into the air upside down, and then sat on it.

Goober tried to peer over the gate at the singers....

It was a full hour before Barnabus came out, alone, with a bag of sandwiches and three tins of cola.

"They've finally gone,” he said cheerfully. "Have you thought any more about the Tribunal?" he addressed this question to Puck.

"Well, now as it turns out we have the heart, it is all that we need to bring him to court. I just booked a session with Infernal Affairs. We have to be there by two."

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

The Tribunal of Horus

"You want us to pray?" Nervina quizzed, becoming more uncomfortable again.

"Well, er, I have been praying whilst we were drinking our tea together - and then it came to me ... the answer is simple when you know it” he leaned forward further, knocking over the milk jug, banging his fist on the table.

"The Tribunal of Horus.”

"Horus?" asked Goober.

"Horus?" echoed Nervina looking at Puck, with his best 'let’s get out of here fast' sideways expression.

Puck reflected back to the epoch just after the great continent's fall. There had been a period of the Earth's history where the darker wizards had been expelled. They were held accountable for the travails of the Earth and exiled from the realm and its neighbouring spheres. Outcast through the power of the demi-gods who were more ancient and powerful than even they.

He had taken part in the original court as one of the chief notetakers, but had not been called back into that higher world since.

The one prerequisite for this was a heart that had been used by the Demon, to be examined, as to the true substance of his nature. It was then that Puck realized that they had exactly what was needed to summon a judgement on Forsythe and be rid of him once and for all.

"You boys better take the back door,” said Barnabus "while I delay them."

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

On the Run

He moved the biscuit plate closer to them, saying cunningly:
"We don't have long." It was as though he thought someone might be listening in.

"Forsythe and his men are walking this street right now coming to get you."

"How do you know this?" asked Nervina, who was convinced that it was Barnabus who had probably tipped him off about their being back in London.

Barnabus tapped his earpiece - they had all assumed it was an ordinary hearing aid, but it was not.

"Just got word" he said.

"Oh" said Nervina, perplexed as to why the old man was wearing a transmitter and wondering also who it could be that was informing him of these things.

"They are trying to trap you" he went on. "I've seen it before. It's a nasty business with them capturing spirit beings." He paused to fine tune his earpiece.

Goober would have liked to correct him about them not being spirits exactly, but it seemed pointless in the light of what was to come.

"I would offer to hide you but they would find you soon enough" he added.

"Then what is it you suggest ... that we retreat back into the Woods as we have always done?”

"No, we must call upon those who have the powers to help" the old man replied earnestly.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series