Lonesome

John Swanson 

"Come back to bed Brother!” called Cedro from the dark.

"Cedro" was his new name given him, after the Cedar tree, for the strength he had shown (relinquishing a life of lust and desire), his full title was ‘Cedro the Fornicator’, but he preferred the abbreviation.

On this night Francis had taken himself for a walk - he ever had difficulty sleeping.

The truth was his spirit was lonesome for one, and not for the many. People made him feel claustrophobic - and as kind and accommodating as they were, his soul could never find enough space to put between himself and them.

The animals were very different - they complied, and over time became something of an extension of himself. This was precisely how he imagined himself to be in relation to God - as the animals were to him. This, Francis believed, was not obedience, but rather an intuitive alignment.

Francis chose this allegiance above all others, even before his relationship with the Elven people, which was often a point of discussion between them all.

“Why designate at all?” the Hode quizzed him meaningfully. “One does not surely exclude the other?”

But Francis shrugged. He felt displaced amongst the Mortals and equally so with the Elven. The saints were the only company he had found that held a place for him.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

Insulation

John Swanson 

The hall was as long as it was wide and had been insulated by reams of hay banked up, creating an inner wall, from which the animals would feed from constantly.

Brother Pious invented this system and it worked well - the blocks of dry weed seemed to hold a warmth of their own, however in the years to follow one wall generated so much heat it caused a fire to ignite, and their communal hut burnt to the ground.

The pets were many and varied, pacified by Francis whose very presence calmed them to quiet. He would often rise early for Matins - seeking out the furtherest nub of the hill, and the creatures then would stir, with a moan and a squeak, beginning their pre-dawn medley.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

Shared Stable

A peculiarity of Francis was to sleep alongside his wolves, as well as the smaller creatures that gathered around.

He chose to to lie down beside them throughout the windswept nights, for mutual warmth. He was not the only brother to see the sense of it; for his Community of now twenty, cohabited with the creatures of both forest and farm.

The Order would say, that if it was good enough for our little Lord to take sleep in a barn, it was correct for ourselves also.

And so their bedded room was something of a large stable, that was shared, instead of the individual cold cells ordinarily used by the monks in the towns.

- Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

Marauding Dragons

Climate change is real.

Although unseen by men, its cause can be directly attributed to angry dragons.

The folk of Faerie perceive them prowling the globe, with their gaseous breath, sour and hot - vast beings comprising of coal and carbon, from the decayed remains of tumultuous thought, let loose in a world that is whipped by their tails, their engorged bodies swooping here and there, behind the clouds and beneath the mountains, stalking the storms, and feeding from the electric currents striking the earth.

Yes, the Fay knew the cause only too well - the reminder of similar times gone, past hung its silver halo, although now cold as the sodden grave, yet once the sporting ground for these dragons of the tempest.

Legends of old spoke of entire towns reduced to cinders, and the marauding of these vacuous beasts, grown in the depths of the darkest of histories, only to reappear in Humanity’s dawn.


-Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS, Second Chances

Puck's Sense of Self

There was another great point of difference between Puck and most of the Fay from which he had come … he had the ability to discern himself from the crowd. Puck’s sense of self was always present - his own presence, as it were, spoke the loudest to him.

This could be said for the mortals as well. Most, like the fairies, identify with one common mind - whilst only a few can be separate enough to have thoughts that are their own. Each had a consciousness of individuality, as it were.

Puck saw this as being the true evolution of both - as long as selfishness did not overtake the selflessness they had known.

The magic kingdoms rested heavily upon one another, with the deep magic of the humans and their slumbering intellects, and the wakeful light-filled immortals with their repetitive ways.

- Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

A Rare Sophistication

Tinker Bell was a fairy. In actuality she was over ten thousand fairies.

With the successful writer celebrating her, the name of Tinker Bell became incredibly popular amongst the ‘small folk’. And thus they multiplied.

Fairies associate with mortals far more than mortals can ever realize these days. They love to copy their clothes and mimic their ways - and with their dual evolutionary pathways they are either destined for heaven for for hell, depending very much upon their mortal brothers they emulate so well.

Very few have managed to successfully take form within the material world, to be seen concretely by a human.

Puck and Goober were far ahead of their race when it came to presenting a strong appearance. Whilst they appeared to be as solid a presence as any other who walked the earth, they were in truth, in substance, purely ethereal.

Travelling between worlds as they did, required a sophistication that was rare indeed. To be this adept, depended largely on their close affiliation with Mankind - taking thousands of years of identifying with what it meant to be human - to feel as they did, to breathe as they would, to know and to be.


-Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

Eccentric

“Granted Dad’s a little eccentric, but there is really nothing wrong with my father’s thinking. I can see where you are coming from … but” - here she hesitated trying to find the words to reassure him.

The exit door burst open and through it tumbled Puck and Goober. Puck had a top hat on and was waving a British flag, whilst Goober was chasing after him with a capsicum aerosol, spraying the air randomly.

“Careful with that!” hollered an irate Calvin who recognised the product immediately. I54 - Pepper Spray - Johnstone Pharma supplied half of the United States police with these and were adapting an even stronger propellant for the military market.

Puck sharply did a 360 turn back to Goober and pushed him into a bed of spongy hydrangeas, he then ripped the spray out of Goober’s hand and projected its contents two inches right into his eyes.

Calvin was horrified and immediately reached for his phone to call the onsite medics.

Goober did not rise out of the bush, but gave an almighty sneeze and wheeze, and then vanished into thin air. Calvin rubbed his own eyes in disbelief and looked again - still the fellow had disappeared.

“I win!” exclaimed Puck with a hail hearty boom.

Francis stumbled into the bright light wearing a live pigeon on each shoulder. His rainbow kaftan glittered in the sunshine having fine threads of silver woven through the rustic fabric. He casually drew a handful of seed from its side pocket and held his palm open for the two birds to feed from.

Meanwhile Puck removed his top hat and was collecting stray petals from the flower bed, muttering something about making a cup of tea with them.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances