Love for Everyone & Everything

Hannah had felt a bond; and she had cared for him every moment whilst he had tended for others.

Although she was still connected by a clairvoyant mirror with her brother Murmur, she could also almost read the shining thoughts of Francis. She knew his prayers before he spoke them, she heard the music of his song, and thrilled to the core of her being, just to sit with him in silence.

Why could he not show her the tenderness he most easily gave to the goat?

This was not to say that the elven monk had romantic encounters with the beasts that gathered around him - no, he was not like the herdsmen of the north who the villagers would complain of, saying that their wild children had hairy backs and were born in paddocks, later to be but mute simpletons digging and ploughing for their fathers.

No, Francis did not engage with his animals like the fancies of the Roman courts, whose zoos were salons of iniquity - parlours of coiffured creatures wearing their golden harnesses, brushed and fragranced, feasting on the tables, soiling the marbled floors with the Egyptian servants hastening after them.

No, Francesco had no fetish or inhuman lust - he quietly and simply bore love for everyone, and everything.


- Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

Tears splashed down her face

Hannah-Mary placed her hand gently onto Francis’s knee whilst he was deep in prayer. He kept his eyes half open, fixed down at the ground, as she held it there. Ever so slightly her fingers crawled towards his thigh, that was thinly covered only by the coarse wool of his tunic. His manhood sprang into being, and the prayers he had silently announced were swiftly truncated.

The angels looking on, were abandoned with their waiting arms now empty.

Mary found hope in this, when in fact there really was none. At nineteen she was still very simple in her perspectives about men and their core motivations.

His eyes searched for hers, wanting to reach out to her with great seriousness - knowing that this dialogue had been a long time coming.

Francis drew a breath and inched back, saying “Hannah dear, we cannot marry - and I will not take you as a concubine.”

Tears splashed down her face. It was far more than mere rejection that stung her - for she had loved Francis ever since he had delivered her from the attackers on the mountain that they now lived upon.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

Processed Food

“Not everything is sinister Dad.”

Packet food turning common people into trolls? Well some might have said this was already pretty obvious, she thought to herself. There was a certain comfort to be found in private sarcasm.

“You know that the Fay world is not so distinctly separated from the physical world as you might think my dear daughter. We never have been. In point of fact - the world of the deeper Fay and the material are one and the same.”

“How so? Now you are definitely not making sense.”

“What you call reality is but a very persuasive magic - and what you call ethereal, is the beginning foundation and substance of this world. And there you have it!”

“And” he said slowly and deeply, “Your company here is contriving to separate men from the natural world, and (he looked weary here) it is serious - I would say deadly serious, but this is far more serious than death itself has ever been. Please listen to me Charley while there is time.”

-Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

Turning Men & Women into Trolls

When she visited her Elven home her ordinary eyesight saw elvish things, but back on terra-infirma she could only see the material life - the physical life as everyone else saw it. And, as for the spirits of the departed, she could not see them in either existence.

He put his arm around her - Puck dared not to speak his true mind.

“Charles, I have a prediction for you.” He perceived that he had her attention and continued: “It is simply this - that your pharmaceutical company is going to try to change the way the world views its food. It is going to create pharmanutrients that are prescriptive meals that will replace fresh food.”

“But isn't that concept already out there in the market? Weight loss - infant feeding - weight-lifting proteins etc. There’s nothing new in packaged enriched ‘foods’ is there? Is there really a point of difference? Apart from excellence of course?” she laughed a little defensively at his seriousness.

“Yes, yes there is”, he said determinedly. “For one thing they can turn ordinary men and women into trolls.”

“I wish you wouldn't say things like that Dad - someone might hear you.”

Now Charley was genuinely irritated - and added: “you always have to exaggerate.”

“I do not” he said emphatically - “not this time anyhow”.


-Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

Beyond her Reach

Kumar Alzhanov

“Why am I not surprised Father. What is it you are up to now? Keeping a check on me? Or is it the Company I work for that you are watching?”

“Both” he said ruefully. The pain of losing her mother still bit him from the inside out. He thought back to the one time he could not foresee the dangers within the mortal world. This whole place was unpredictable. It had the surrounding worlds in a spin, constantly changing and rearranging itself. There was more magic to be found on Earth than there ever was in its neighbouring planes of Faerie, he had found.

“He’s called Chips now… Anon - he's called Chips.”

Charley wanted to bring Puck back from his melancholy. Every time she saw him pained, she wanted to rescue her dad from his sadness.

She could never really remember her mother, but there were times when she would sense her presence around her. Charley wished very often to have the second sight to actually see her, but try as she might, the invisible worlds remained just that - imperceptible and beyond her reach.

- Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS, Second Chances 

Telepathy not Working

“For God’s sake Dad, get down from there! Someone will see you!”

Charley’s voice sounded more irritated than concerned, as she called out at the top of her voice. Her Father had climbed up onto the main water tank at the compound - which was an enormous container, as large as an olympic pool, and lay across the roof of the main building like a silver pancake. Puck had been eating his breakfast up there.

“I wish you would not visit me at work, do you know how embarrassing it is?”

Charley loved her Father - he was all the family she knew - but he made it almost impossible for her to live in the ordinary world - which was something she really enjoyed tremendously. It wasn't easy being half-elven. She sighed.

Puck was back on the ground standing in front of her in an instant. His hair had untidily wound its curly way onto his shoulders shining copper in the bright Arizona light.

“I have to talk with Francesco” he said distractedly - "he’s not answering my emails.”

“Why don't you just message him like we normally do?”

“Telepathy’s not working either. I wouldn't have sent him out here if I knew he would like it so much” he smiled.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

Pontiff loses his Mind

“I will take him to trial. I will make him walk fire. He cannot have these powers without mischief - it is not possible. Let his piety prove his worth and save him from the scorn and scorch of the cleansing flames.”

And so saying he picked up a small dog that was absconding, and threw it into the fireplace with such a force the young creature did not have the opportunity to save itself. Its scream travelled all the way to Hell and back again. Several angels vacated the cathedral - and the ghosts of the former Popes looked on, shaking their heads with disgust.

The smoke from the burning fur filled the room and the old man began to cough. Several attendants rushed into the chamber bringing wines and concoctions of elderly salve.

“Who amongst you can be trusted?” he addressed the cages, looking not at the servants.

It was plain to see that not one of the animals understood what he was trying to convey, or wanted to. The Pontiff had officially lost his mind, and his envy of Francis had scorned what wits had remained.


- Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances