The New CEO

There was an extremely uncomfortable silence. The echoing auditorium with its stellar acoustics resounded nothing - not even a cough.

“Any questions?”

“What of our projects currently in play?” asked one of the senior researchers who also had a position on the board itself.

“There may be some” Calvin conceded - "I cannot say for sure, as this will no longer be my provence or responsibility.” Calvin felt pure relief as he said these words - finally he thought to himself.

He also privately knew that Mr Black had objections to some, if not all, of the products that were currently in development. What he did not realise was that the fastest way Puck had thought to close the operation was to simply buy it and shut it down. If he owned the patents he could stall most of the frankensteinian works for half a decade or more. He would of course go on to develop his etheric salve for healing.

It had been assumed up until now that this ‘crackpot’ was merely a guest venting his weirdo mix of metaphysical pseudo-science, and not one of the team had any reason to believe that he would have the controlling interest, or funds to make this to happen.

“And now I am going to hand you back over to Mr Black - please give our new CEO a hearty welcome.”


-Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

Stepping Down

It appeared that not one of the white-coats in the audience had been paying attention - their faces were blandly staring at their watches and phones, clearly willing for the session to pass. There were no questions forthcoming.

Calvin joined Mr Black and his colleague, Fabaceae, to front the tired crowd.

“I have something of a major announcement to make today, he began dryly - and that is … that is to say that it has been wonderful working with you all over the years. I know that my father was very fond of everyone here and most of you have watched me grow since my childhood …”

He stopped for a moment and saw a familiar face in the second row looking horrified.

“Good” he thought to himself, "they are finally listening.”

“Well as you all probably realized of late, with the passing of my father, the Company has not been the same.”

The shareholders all knew this.

“Try as I might, I am simply not big enough to fill his shoes, or invest my life in this business, as he has done. He gave his life for this Company and I personally am still mourning this loss.”

He steadily continued: “Mr Black has made me an offer I cannot refuse, and I would like you to welcome him now as both the CEO and major shareholder of this great Company moving forward. We wanted to give you the heads up before the papers get a hold of it later today. The contracts have only now been completed and I will be saying my farewells as the leader of this very fine team before me.”

-Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

The Room Filled with Hope

“Will he live?”

“Yes dear Mother, he will … because he must. Francis has a destiny.”

The young Elven man had a fire come into his eyes as he said this, and Pica felt deep down that he knew things that she herself could never understand.

The truth was that for all of Francis’s short life, she had waited in dread for the day to come when the Fairies could come and collect their boy.

When they had left him to her was it perhaps a mistake? A temporary stay? Her heart was heavy every time these wonderings crossed the threshold of her daily life.

As though Puck could hear her thoughts he said graciously, “No dear woman, I will not be taking your son away from you, his loving mother. I have only come to tend to him with the tonics he requires.”

She brightened at this and her room filled with hope.


-Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

A Bell Rung Loudly

In her lowest of moments Pica cried at the small boy’s bedside, and when she had exhausted herself, lying beside her little one, a moment of clarity came before her. She thought back to something she had forgotten - chosen to forget … and that was of Franco’s heritage … that this was no ordinary boy, and his healing might be possible … but then, it occurred to her - he needs one of his own kind to know what was needed - a physician of the Fey.

And, coincidently, or not, the very moment that she had this thought, there was a bell ringing loudly outside her front door.

He was only a young lad - exceedingly tall - who had to bow his head down just to enter through to the main room. His leather tunic was well oiled and Pica noticed that his long curly hair was tied back, fixed with a silver ivy vine that wound around it. He had an aura of great calm and light, and she knew all at once this Fay had come in answer to her heathen prayer.

Across his shoulder he carried a canvas sack, tied at the top with red ribbon. He placed the sack on to the floor and addressed her thus:

“Your son has important work in this World ahead of him.” His voice was gentle, yet firm, and her trust ever grew.

“Who are you, dear Sir? Do you know my boy well?”

“I am his Uncle.” he answered casually - now with his attention towards Francis he looked past her and was distracted by what he saw.

“I heard your call when I was in the neighbouring forest … it lies beside your world and mine …" here his voice trailed off, once again.


-Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

Once Bitten

At the age of five, young Francis was taken on an excursion into the crowded city accompanying his father on a wool sampling expedition. He was very excited to see the crowds and smell the foods, and be with the papa that he cherished so well.

During this outing little Francesco had been bitten by a mongrel dog, and although the nip was slight, and the wound quick healed, he cried all the way home, nursing his afflicted arm.

Over the days to follow the wound suppurated and the little child drew a fever. He took to bed ailing with the tepid inoculation of canine madness.

There was nought to be done. The town’s physician maintained that the boy could not be saved from this situation, and, with taking his fee for this expert consultation, he went on his way, leaving the boy to die a hapless death.

His little arm had blackened and Franco had now become unconscious. He could not take any food, nor feel the fatigue of his sickness. He had slumped into that place between worlds - half in, half out - betwixt earth and Heaven.

Pietro had said that he must go away, but in truth it was not his business that drew him away from his little boy - rather, his fear of what was to come led him swiftly out the door and back into his world - leaving the forlorn Pica alone with her dying son.

She did not mind this as one might think. Pica sought solitude in such times of extreme sadness. She could now have every moment left with little Francis to herself.

- Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

Red Eyes Fixed Upon Them

Francis bent down, patted the blackened head of the dead elephant, untied his cross from its crown and slipped it back on.

Meanwhile the imp had slid down the back of his new mount and was dry humping the man from behind.

This would never do thought Francis to himself. I cannot vacate now - but this situation is far beyond my expertise.

I do not perform such magic, he thought further, for it never ends well. There is simply no safe place to send twelve demons to, for us to be cleared of them. They are scoundrels and troublesome wherever they be.

Their red eyes fixed upon them. Two were standing on their rides and mimicking the gestures of Toby as he spoke.


-Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

A Troubled Tobias

A troubled Tobias bethought humour might lift the moment. He pointed to his own stout frame and then idled up beside one of the bulbous creatures that was rocking side to side on the spot, agitated.

“Step back”, quietly spoke Francis, who pushed him aside - and taking his cross from his own neck planted it onto the crown of the elephant central to the tusks. The animal screamed, turned black as pit, and dropped to the ground.

Happleganger gasped, “What have you done! You have cost us irreplaceably!” He scowled a hellish scowl.

Francis noted that the imp was now upon the man’s shoulder making faces at him. Its wiry hands were plucking at the grey greasy hairs, provoking Happleganger, unconsciously, all the more.

Murmur and Tobias could see that this was not going well.


- Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances