The Second Morning

When Robyn awoke the second morning, the early Arizona air was dancing through her window - this time she had propped it open using her toiletry bag - when halfway through the night she had stumbled to the bathroom and used what she could. She found the night air was so refreshing her sleep was all the deeper for it.

She lay faced to the window, enjoying the sheets so cool against her timid skin; and the recess of the pillow was perfect to her neck's incline. Very slowly and drowsily she turned over, opened her hazel brown eyes, to see a strange man lying in the bed right beside her. She yelped reactively.

The figure in her bed moved and began to turn over to now face her. Robyn leapt up and out, backing into the side table, whereupon tilting it, and her mobile phone slid off onto the carpet.

Even more surprisingly still, she realised he was a very old man. He was looking back at her as though she were half mad.

"Who are you?" she demanded. Old or not, this was an unspeakable horror. She looked at his bony form which was undressed down to the boxer shorts now peeping out from under the top sheet.

In the moment she caught sight of a small tattoo on his chest to one side, half covered by the immensely long curly hair. She wondered if he was a native - or demented - or a demented native that had found his way into her room.

No explanation seemed to be coming.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

The Pope's Blessing

“Would you consider coming back with me to Rome?" asked the Pontiff as he was being helped down the hill.

Murmur answered, without hesitation: "I think not … at least for the days near to come."

He surprisingly did not thank the Pontiff for this offer of promotion - yet the Pontiff had also neglected to thank him for the revival. There was a rather odd understanding between them.

"I should stay right here Father where I belong” he reiterated,

"Very well ... although," here he paused for emphasis, "I could need someone like you..."

Francis who was following behind coughed.

They came to a party of Bishops and priests who had scattered around, patrolling the town, regrouped upon the bridge and it was there that they delivered the Pope into their safety.

Before leaving he said:

"Francis, come to me when the time is right and we will forge a commitment. I will put a seal to your vision and my blessing to your community. I came to tell you only that - for we in Rome can see your light from afar - in the forests of Ashburton, this light streams from your heart. We are of consensus that the future of this cause will champion our Lord most well. And so it is said, and so it shall be.”

-Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

The Old Pope- up & breathing again

[ c. 13th Century ]

Francis was persuaded by this enclave of spiritual rapture - momentarily. Then, as with a rush of cold air upon a sleepy face, he snapped awake, and in this moment he saw the Pope as a very old man, with milky eyes, struggling for breath, and with veins pronounced, crepe hands, sitting in prayer, alongside him.

"Why have you come here?" he asked respectfully - for as much as the magic had fallen away, so did his trust also.

The Pontiff appeared to have fallen asleep - with his head bowed upon his chest. The circle of light and warmth had all but dissolved, and the heavy darkness was now all around them.

Francis went to get up to get a blanket, but before he could go, the elderly man slumped. Francis caught him before he fell sideways.

The Pope’s heart had stopped, and there held in his arms, Francis could see his spirit ascend above them.

"I knew it was a bad idea him sitting out in the cold like this" Francis thought to himself.

A minute later he could hear the sound of Tobias and Murmur returning up the hill. They babbled lavishly with their festive humours. However this noise stopped fast when they caught sight of their brother cradling a corpse wrapped in velvets.

“Murmur, I need you to bless our Holy Father before his soul flies into the Heavens - we must deliver him back to where he came from, alive if we can."

Tobias left to put Granoldi to bed, whilst Murmur unquestioningly knelt down and put his hand onto the deceased's heart and head. Within minutes the old Pope was up and breathing again.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

Silver Tree Pendant

“Let me get you another coffee" Charley offered.

As she leant forward to pick up the empty cup, her pendant hanging from her neck swung towards Robin - it glittered joyfully. Robyn could see with this closer look, that it was a small silver tree.

"How lovely" Robyn remarked genuinely.

Charley touched it affectionately - "Thank you, it reminds me of home".

The door opened with its usual swish, and Calvin briskly walked in - this time with an arm hugging a stack of folders.

"There" he said almost proudly, as he parked the pile in front of Robyn.

He really did look like someone very pleased with himself. The folders were bulging at the sides with hundreds of documents within. They seemed to emanate importance, dressed with the authority that a folder naturally carries. Truth be known, these papers were worth untold sums in research dollars and patents to come.

He then pushed it closer, as though she might have missed seeing the pile the first time.

Robyn thought that Calvin looked quite young to her in this moment - enthusiasm refreshed his veneer of business, and this vibrant man appealed to her even more.

She smiled back in grateful acknowledgement of being entrusted with something he obviously thought very special.

- Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

Independence is a Magic Word

“Independence is a magic word, because nowhere in the Cosmos does it actually exist.”

When Robyn took his hand inside hers, she noticed it was cool to the touch - not clammy, nor icy - but compared to the warmth of her own, with palm touching palm, it felt quite cold.

Calvin had just come from Lab no.3 where the temperatures were almost always freezing. He looked at her face and smiled. He instantly liked this new girl that was before him.

Charley's curly hair had frizzled in the heat and her golden ringlets looked more like a tangled mane with knots and ties - rather than a secretarial up-do; whilst Robyn's enthusiastic face was framed by sleek straight disciplined hair - wound into a ponytail with every strand in place. 

He sensed that Robyn was the type of girl who would wake up looking tidy first thing - her kind on leisure days would iron T-shirts, and count calories, and presented well he mused …he also noted further to himself that this Aussie girl looked just great.

Calvin pulled his hand back abruptly, and a slight frown crossed his brow. The electricity between them had gone to his groin. He got up quickly from his chair.

"Excuse me for a moment, will you?" he did not look at the girls when saying this - but hurriedly departed.

Charley did not seem perturbed at his manner. Robyn felt a dash of disappointment and stared into her coffee cup for something to do.

- Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

Spellbound

[ c. 13th Century ~ ]

The steam from the huge iron pot had given form to twelve spirits that were now suspended in the air above them, whirling around each other, like salamander dragons, snapping at each others tails.

A breeze had been conjured outside, yet within this light filled space they sat in, all was quiet. The darkness shouldered without.

Francis looked over to the old Pope in wonder for the power of this man sitting before him - whilst he, in turn, held his gaze, when suddenly he saw the old man’s face drop forty years . He was so unrecognisable that Francis had to wonder if this was the Holy Father at all.

“You are correct in your discretion, yet quite mistaken with this suspicion: - l am that I am, and much more besides …” he looked hard at the Elvish man and then continued: “We are similar you and I.” he seemed to slur his words slightly saying this.

Francis found himself disbelieving now more than ever. This strange individual assumed too much, yet one look at the puce toned robes compelled him to differ. Francesco mused at the finery of the weave - even in this half light he recognised its obvious worth.

The spirit forms that had been dancing in and out of the light-filled vapours above them, returned back into one homogeny, which now were presuming images - moving images - of the feast in the village in the valley below.

Portrayed in ghostly smoke Francis could see Tobias dancing with Granoldi, who was waving a metal tankard in the air, near missing the folk close by. The two appeared quite drunk.

The strange thing about magic is how easily one can feel familiar with it. Much like a dream, its message can infill the senses of the soul and persuade the consciousness in a way that is undeniable. As intoxicating as the musk of romance, and as enlightening as the whispers of hidden wisdom, magic can take you back into the very realm of your childhood ... and leave you there.

And for a moment, each in their way, on this night, was spellbound.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS- Second Chances 

Robyn meets Charley

The young woman motioned her to follow - "I'm Charley, by the way".

Robyn could not pick any accent at all - the woman did not seem American - if anything it was British.

As she had said this she smiled brightly. Robyn noticed the rectangular pin she wore that said "Charlotte Black" on her lapel.

"I'm Robyn - Robyn Prior … I’m from Australia."

Charley thought that this was said as though it was some kind of accomplishment. Actually, on second-thoughts, it probably was, she added to herself wryly.

"How uncanny! My father's name was Robin!"

“Oh, that is random!” she smiled a relieved smile.

“Perhaps this was a sign", Robyn speculated ... she might be able to get the information she had come for after all.

- Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances