A Dark Intrusion

Puck had left Goober behind at the Retreat to continue his work with Master Tu - they both seemed good for one another - gentle companions healing through the quiet company of the other. Yes, Puck assured himself, the two would do nicely staying right where they were. Goober’s allergies had subsided, and Tu’s tremors had also calmed - all was well at the Green Leaf Nirvanic Retreat.

His attention then returned to Eve, to check in on how she had been doing. He had meant wholeheartedly to visit sooner, but so many causes and callings demanded his focus … and by the time he reached her flat he found yet another breakfast taking place, with some oddballs around her kitchen table, accompanied by their shadowy demons who were frightening the usual ghosts huddled in the corner.

Einstein aka Needles, seemed oblivious to the fanged and threatening ghouls parading in Eve’s lounge room, and he was busying himself manifesting top ups for the tea and cocoa being consumed by the fast eating elderly.

These witches, on the face of it, appeared benign - at first glance … deceptively elderly and divorced from any great power to speak of. But Puck knew better, that these sour individuals held the unfortunate contamination of those who walk the path of death. It is inevitable that the corruptive forces cannot sustain life in an ordinary way, and seek it from whatever or whoever they may. It becomes their only survival. He felt immediate concern for Eve’s welfare.

Puck made a mental note to do something soon to help her out of this dark intrusion - but what?

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

Turning the Wheels of Karma

Puck rarely got himself involved in politics - having seen centuries of mishaps and twisting turns concerning those who chose sides, invariably forgetting their cause along the way; no, he preferred to stick to local issues on a case-by-case basis. Like the time he had discovered a certain UK MP who had entrapped, enslaved and then embalmed a young staffer, interring his intern into a disused well on his heritage estate.

This heartless MP could not resist a filthy bribe or an empowered cruelty, as personal wealth had never quenched his private sense of cunning that was doubly excited by illicit gain. Ordinary wealth was but bread and butter to this modern day villain, whereas the illegal acquisitions became the intoxicating cognac that excited his flaccid soul.

The Elvish cannot, and do not, directly disable or harm Mortals - even when, at times, they are pissed off by their cruel and devilish behaviours - but what they can do is turn the wheels of Karma a little faster for them. 

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

Just Dive In

Jupiter stared into the flaming lake, as though he was waiting to see something appear out from its secrets. The sunset glimmered and glamoured its way onto its surface, and small silver fish leapt up and dove back down, piercing its glassy ceiling, causing little ripples on an otherwise pristine surface. This was the place where the spiritual sea met with the heavenly ethers.

He paused, he thought, and then gripping the bough of a reclining fig tree, Jupiter slipped into the lake’s watery embrace and let go.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

A Dry Summer

Dieric Bouts

When Tindle had returned empty handed, the people of Trent on Shore were relieved to see him still alive, and they proved perspect on the losses this honest boy had made. Seasoned with both former bad fortune and many regrets; they had been all too aware of what was asked of him time and time again before, and generously forgave him for losing their savings on this pilgrimage.

And so it did not go so badly as he had imagined, and to Tindle’s relief, life would carry on somewhat the same - save for the voluntary tasks he now was employed with, as well as his own. As an act of propriety and conscience, Tindle would help where he could, in service to the whole community he called home.

One such labor of charity was to assist the travellers cross over the inlet waters to the other side where slumped a small wooden chapel. The priest would travel to his spiritual homestead twice a week and once on Sundays to hold the consecrative act. For this reason, the set times required passage over a full and virulent river way, depending on the rains prior.

And because the rivulet travelled down into the sea from higher ground, the movement of the waters was rapid - too fast for a tiny boat to cross. The depths were fickle also, as the riverbed was uneven, and the rocks also, proved a hazard to the traveller. Yet with Tindle’s great height, and oilskin dungarees, there was a way that each of the forty worshippers could be carried there and back, upon his broad back, with safety. 

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

I’m Amazed

Eve actually felt like singing, and to go for an actual walk - or a stroll - and maybe sing, while she strolled. Eve never really took the time to linger or casually walk for the sake of walking, to enjoy the countryside. She lived with the commotion of the spirits around her crowding her daily thoughts, and this busyness had kept her from the more silent activities - usually.

But today … When Eve opened her eyes, in the half light of the morning, she could smell the coffee from the kitchen, along with a meld of sweet and spicy fragrances wafting under her door to her bed. 

She drew her gown around her hurried to the kitchen. On the table there was a crisp linen cloth, with a full breakfast placed on top. She did not recognise the crockery, or the cutlery, or the bowls of fruit and porridge, plates of pancakes and fruit rice, jugs of syrup and milk, and a pot of coffee.

“Oh this is great!” she said out loud exuberantly. And then sat down to enjoy her fare. Secretly she assumed that it was Puck that had left it there for her.

The very next morning the exact same thing happened again, only this time the crockery was different and the menu slightly varied. There were blueberries in the porridge, and muffins instead of pancakes. Some hard boiled eggs and fresh juice had appeared as well.

Before she could sit down to enjoy herself her door bell chimed. It was her neighbour - an elderly woman who had survived a tedious life, shackled with arthritis and regret.

“Hi Violet - are you ok?”

“Yes yes dear - I was just checking that you yourself were doing alright - there was a lot of coming and going this morning in the early hours.”

Eve was not exactly sure what Violet meant by this, but was touched by her concern.

“Oh please be assured that I am more than alright,” she said, looking back into the kitchen at her breakfast waiting. From the doorway Violet could see it too.

“Oh, er, it would be really nice if you could come in and join me,” she said generously.

Violet stepped into the apartment without hesitation and carefully, unsteadily, sat herself down. “Well this is very nice” she said appreciatively.

On the third morning yet another breakfast ‘appeared’ slightly grander than the others and with more placings than the previous ensemble. Once again, there was a visitor at the door: it was Violet who had returned very hopefully, this time with the ruse of there being a wayward piece of mail to deliver, which was merely a pamphlet from the local complex - and alongside her was Letitia from 2b.

Letitia had been large all her life, and now, in her seventies her bones were beginning to disintegrate under the strain of the weight. She stood behind Violet as though trying to hide from sight. And yes, of course, Eve invited them both to join her in the breakfast feast.

“You have been busy dear,” said Letty with great enthusiasm. Violet nodded to her ravenous friend, in covert style, as if to say, didn’t I tell you?

By the sixth morning, the extraordinary foods were still manifesting, and so were the neighbours: Bryan from the basement, a barely employed, not-very-good handyman, had offered to paint enamel over a scratch on the Vauxhall, at 8am; and Peter, a retired lawyer from Caracas had stopped by with a petition of signatures he was collecting. And so there were now five of them around her little table, which surprisingly had five place settings set that day, with food enough for everyone.

There was a sixth chair in the corner, where sat their invisible host watching on. It was Needles the Dwarf, her recovered friend, who in a debt of enormous gratitude had felt compelled to be her helper evermore.

One other thing that had escaped Eve’s attention was that Letty, Bryan, Peter and Violet all happened to belong to the local WW meetup group. The WW did not stand for World War, or Weight Watchers, but rather Witches and Warlocks a society from down the road. And although their age made them appear benign and sweet, this gathering just happened to be anything but.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

Send a Messenger

Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres

Jupiter had suffered a special kind of restlessness when his younger brother had left for the pits. Images would come to him of his life there, disturbing the Elvish inner equilibrium, although his outer composure remained regally sedate. What was the attraction Titan had for the Mortal world?

They had tried to get word to him when Shiva had passed behind the veil. Nothing seemed to penetrate the dense ethers of the lower worlds.

“Send a messenger” was the Mastiff’s suggestion. And so they did - Tok - an Angeloi of distinction - but he also had not been heard of ever since. And so the memorial was held without either being present.

Death in the Heavens, although infrequent, is much of the same as it is in the Elemental world - however, it is openly heralded to be that of an awarded time, a bridge crossed, a period completed, a set fulfilled, with a new one begun.

The word itself (death) used to translate simply into salt - meaning to stop - where a condition realises its finitude. And so the release from death into a higher world again was always celebrated and understood to be inevitable and respectable. Yet, as with any other world, the remainders feel the vacancy sorely, and lament the distance placed between them and those who have travelled ahead.

Sadness, deep sadness, can become a caveat for change. Jupiter needed the comfort of his brother now and in that moment decided with the spirit of his mother at his side, that he himself would endure the vile atmosphere of the warring clag of Earth, to go and retrieve that of his own once and for all.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

Jupiter

Jupiter stared across the horizon, watching the last of the party still dancing with haloed silhouettes whorling before the dawning sky. The committal ceremony had exceeded the night, and the mourners had spent all of their grief, commending their sorrow into the Higher Heavens, along with the spirit of their dearly beloved and friend.

This night his mother had gone to a place where he was not permitted to follow, for a time.

She had been, and still was, a gracious woman. A strong, yet kindly mother, who was always conceding to the wills of the gods she had birthed; not once did irate anger summon against her sons. She admired and loved her offspring, and bore a quiet confidence in each and every one of them.

Jupiter’s brother was unaware of this happening. He had migrated into the lesser planes of the Mortal realm, where communication was insolent at best. His brother - this brother - had not walked the gardens of his birthplace for over a century or so - perhaps in the knowledge that should he return, he may well want to remain.

The weather is always mild in the Lower Heavens - its purple sky becoming over-lit by a golden sun, Jupiter watched the small rainbows twink the dewy foliage. He could hear the rays alight this, his place, and feel them as they infilled his chest with new life once again, in preparation for what was before him.

Fairy wrens with rainbow plumage hopped lightly across the lawn. Smaller birds, tits and mudlarks, pecked at the ground for golden seeds. This daily renewal was as important as air and water is to mortals of the lower worlds, and he paused to acknowledge the life-giving radiance as it imbibed his very being.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series