Very Much Alone

John Duncan

Jonathon broke out with an invisible rash; the kind that makes your skin crawl from the inside, that prickly irritation where even the wind can feel intolerably oppressive biting at each nerve. 

His condition could have come from the lead waters in his father’s foundry, or perhaps from Jon’s unease of solitude, following his spirit-love’s departing.

He was unkempt, unwashed, and his jet black hair was unruly. He ate only when he was offered - sometimes days apart, going from odd job to unemployment - estate to estate - staying barely conscious.

Jon had picked up the habit of speaking with himself in irrelevant conversation, and it was for this reason the employers would move him on after a very short time, as this jabbering disturbed their confidence in his sanity.

Of course in his mind he had mostly been talking with the invisible Fatima; however even she could not tolerate his company endlessly speaking, and so eventually she withdrew herself into the Heavens for the grace of a revivifying renewal in paradise.

Jon was now very much alone. He would have welcomed the slobbering company of Peter and Paul, had they not ripped the other’s throat into pieces. It still mystified him as to how or what could have happened to cause the beasts to turn on one another as they did.

He rummaged absentmindedly into the lower portion of his breeches and pulled out a lump of cheese the size of a walnut. It had gone hard and dry, but nonetheless was a happy find.

“Eie eie eie” he mumbled out loud.

“Fie fie fie” came a cheery voice from the road.

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

Two or More are Gathered

Not only did the beastly creatures experience the reverential practices of the Franciscan worship; the fairies too, were introduced to Christendom through the magnificent outdoor services the Saint would perform daily - twice daily - in the forest.

For Francis certainly did have a way of speaking to the hearts of all, and reintroducing their souls back to God. This was his single-most consignment - a living pledge that he enacted, and reenacted, within his own heart daily.

The Elvish are by their very nature extremely reverential. They are the esoteric life: their consciousness is of pure spirit, and only lightly enters into the heaviness of the Material World as it staggers throughout the universe.

He was first and foremostly, a devotee to the pure contemplation of goodness being the very foundation of all life. However, on occasion he had excised a brother from the community if he had found them to be lazy in their morals, or dark in their desires. Francis did not love them any less, he just could not abide their presence - for certain elements would perhaps contaminate the communal family were he to permit them to stay …

The tiniest of faeries would line the trees like Xmas lights gathering for the Holy Service; singing their psalms alongside the Brothers; splashing in and out of the communion cup, fully immersed, with their baptism complete.

Pre-dawn Hannah Mary would replace the water above the fire, and knead the bread into small balls, before lowering the metal basket into the wood oven that was dug into the ground.

It was no small effort - over a hundred of these little rounds or knots of dough would go into the furnace daily, to later evolve oh so fragrantly into for the breakfast to come.

One morning, when she had just placed the very last one, and lowered her basket, drawing across the metal plate at the top to then sit the kettle upon, she looked over to where the visiting Hode was sitting alongside Francis in prayer. To her surprise she saw there in the half-light there were not two, but three gathered.

The third figure was also head down in meditation, and there appeared to be the slightest aura of light around him, reflected from what, she could not see. An hour later he was gone.

“Who was that with you at Lauds I saw?” she asked the Hode tentatively offering him a small plate of berries.

“Christos”, said the Hode sincerely - looking at her with the deepest of eyes.

“Not many can see Him”, he said out loud as an afterthought, musing that Hannah held the power to do this.

“Christos it was, Hannah Mary - the very Christ Himself.”

She could see that he was speaking in earnest. Although the Hode was good humoured, he never made a joke. He could tell of parables and give stories with parallel meanings, but he never contradicted himself with an untruth.

“The Christ?” she asked hesitantly.

He nodded affirmatively.

And that very morning she marvelled to find that inside her small clay oven, there were double the number of bread rolls, and they were twice their usual size and wonderingly tasty.

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

Becoming Human

Elizabeth Mumford

Soon it would be feeding time for the small ones, the dawn was beginning to reawake, and the two men were talking quietly, so as not disturb the members nearby. 

A coronet of fireflies haloed his head. Robin was demonstrating how to apply a splint to a calf’s leg that had broken from slipping in the mud.

Hannah Mary watched as the stranger placed his hand on the top knot of a blue dwarf Tit, who had complained (apparently) of a headache. The small bird sat patiently and calmly in Robin’s open hand, with his other hovering just a small way from his crown. Moments later a song erupted from this littlest of souls.

“They wish to further their evolution you know - and this, remarkably, is the greatest pain of all.”

“But Robin, may I dissent? I have seen the fish skim, and dive and glide, with pure happiness beneath their scales - and I have not sensed any uneasiness with their lot.”

“I have seen the herds of grey cattle climb the hills to find the sweetest grass, and when the warm breeze kisses their fat heads, and they are content, I do not find this urgency of change that you speak of.”

“Likewise, this clicking beetle that has come upon us as bold as he does - I find him also to know his place in the world, and feel most safe here.”

Robin lowered his voice to speak with earnest delivery:

“The fish, the cow and the bug are not unhappy in these moments, my friend, I agree. But in times of danger and disease, of struggle with climate or famine, they sorely wish for change.”

“Into what?”

“Into becoming human.”

“How can this be so? And does not the mortal man also suffer the grievances of danger and hardship?”

“Yea, as do the gods - and yet as much as we may admire them for their beauty and we aspire to be as them as well, we are not concerning ourselves with their daily perils. And so it goes.”

“And so it goes.”

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

Malt & Plum

Another memory flew past Eve and alighted on the bookcase in front of where she was sitting. It was of the far far past - and somehow, she realised it was connected to having Granoldi with her that she could see snippets so clearly of what was once her past life. 

In this vision Eve was watching another very intently who was sitting near the bear - her bear. She could not see his face, for a large hood was covering it from the side - droplets from the rain beaded and fell from its pinnacle. He was deep in conversation with Francis - someone who she recognised also, with great fondness.

He had chosen a place to sit nearby to where Granoldi was - yes, it was the bear - back in another time - a bear - another bear - yet it looked just like this white bear … in any event it began to rain, and when he sat down drips fell off from the rim of his large hood onto the compact ground beneath.

Francis brought him a tin cup that had a hot drink inside. The perpetual fire of the community was always lit and above it hung a large cauldron on the boil they called the ‘Bishop’s Caul’ - and from this massive iron pot the water stayed always hot, for beverages for the community and visitors alike.

“Malt and Plum? With a little spice.”

The stranger took it with a smile and a nod, and as he took it to his lips she managed to see his face in the light … it was an ageless face, and she recognised it at once.

She had been watching the two in the company of her twin brother, Murmur.

“No, he is not a Monk, but an Anglish Priest … and is renowned for his wisdom as well as his purse. The two spend hours and sometimes days comparing and sharing notes and ideas, but I think he is, somewhat the senior of the two.” Murmur said with gravitas referring to Francis and the Hode.

Both men were deep in communion with one another and this vexed Hannah Mary for she wished to be part of this conversation - privy to this depth of concentration, and not to be just a bystander.

She wanted an endeavour - a consultation, a meaningful dialogue. She yearned for an accomplice in thought.

Her mind could almost touch theirs telepathically. However it was not nearly as close as her twin brother, where nature itself had put them in unison since birth.

Even though she could not ‘hear’ the thoughts of Francis and the visiting Master, she could divine their solemnity and peace throughout.

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

Perched Like Little Birds

Eve found herself constantly thinking about Granoldi. He was almost twice her size, and she knew she should be frightened, but she was not. He seemed familiar - and, after-all, he was just sleeping. 

And she herself couldn’t sleep. She felt drawn to keep checking the big bear in the room right beside hers. At first she would go into his room to make sure that he hadn’t woken, and watch this huge rounded form, lying in the bed gently breathing, so quietly and slowly it was almost imperceptible … 

She wondered what it was that brought her such happiness looking at this creature. Of course most people instantly love animals of all kinds - to this there is no doubt - they want to pat and hug and cuddle and show great signs of affection to creatures they have only just met - this is not new. Perhaps this was the explanation? It was only natural. 

In this instance he was imposingly large to say the least, and he was not an ordinary creature at all. And she, she was no ordinary creature either: her spiritual nature had developed in ways that mortals never usually experience, for in her previous life Eve also had been gifted in clairvoyant ways.

She could understand life with a mind that could encompass two worlds rolled into one. And during this last life she had loved this very same bear - and today it had become obvious to her in this very distant recollection, there was something strong between them.

On the first day of his arrival Eve had placed a vase of flowers from the garden to put on his bedside table. On the second day she had noticed that the flowers had begun growing and there was a bigger bunch there than before.

Small birds would come to his window sill and sit sometimes for ten minutes or more, as though they were watching over him, or just wanting to be close by.

Still the great bear slept on.

Another memory swept across her so quickly before she could even glimpse it.

It fluttered by so fast she had to look back to be able to see it: for that is the way with memories - they perch upon your shoulders like little birds, and sit so very quietly that you can barely sense that they are there.

A memory visits you not once but twice, and then, just as it goes to leave, you may but briefly catch sight of it.

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

"Modern" was Meant to Be

Oskar Herrfurth

There once was a Master of Language named Nefarious. He was quite the philosopher in 12 AD: a Gnome that could command a vocabulary spanning five continents. He could talk also with the deceased in spirit-speak; even echo the voices of heaven and more, much more than this, spin an idea as though it was the finest golden or silver thread, which would wind its way around the world, until it had worked its yarn into every thought the men in that time were given to.

Nefarious was an originator of contemporary works; he knew how to break paradigms skilfully with the appeal of a better broader thought, he could take a principle and bend it like no other, and when the sun shone, it illumined yet further his fantastical new array of principles and dictums.

Nefarious was the all-time king of comedy for he understood the benefits of jocular enlightenment; when a man was struck by a surprise, he could split the conflicting feelings of awe and former knowledge with a sense of humour, a para-sense of humour, that could take someone beyond their ordinary grasp, and teach them to think differently - unlike the philosophy of religion that is so determined to beat the soul into its position.

He was rarely wrong, but on those occasions where he misjudged the acumen, it was nothing short of a disaster for Humanity - for example: on one occasion Nefarious was reworking a concept of ‘modern’ - however it did not appear as he had intended originally … In point of fact Nefarious had lost the thread of his own thought momentarily, when interrupted by a junior dwarf who had brought his beverage ten minutes too early … and this interruption was to cost civilisation for centuries its own undoing - for you see, an element was left out of the concept that made it complete.

The word modern, the paradigm as it were, was never intended to be a replacement for that which was formerly held in high advantage and honoured with timely worth.

Modern was meant to be: ‘that which is engineered in evolvement’ - not ‘contrary to’ - a fine distinction and separation - and yet when we look today you will find everywhere that modernity on its own implies ‘better’, merely by its point of difference in historical sequence.

This was just one of many things the Master got wrong, amongst the many he had tooled right. 

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

A Simple Bond of Friendship

Mariusz Lewandowski

In the middle of the lake was a flame: the water was as still as glass, with the light skimming upon the reflection; at its side dipped branches from the holy tree, and standing at its stone walled edge was Jupiter.

“Going back already?” asked a voice from behind.

A golden pinecone came hurling past him and into the water breaking up its cosmic plate.

“Robin, what has brought you all the way here?”

“Concern Brother, concern. For I see you in the World as vulnerable and tossed around. It cannot be good for the high Heavens, nor for the son of a god, to do as you do.”

He continued: “Are you not asleep there most of the time anyway?”

Jupiter looked truly stung by these questions, and the blatant accusation he had been wasting time.

“No god ever wastes time”, he replied in a lordly, unfamiliar tone - almost cold.

“Don’t be like that” Robin said admonishing him yet further. “I say this because of our fondness for one another, and I have seen how the world corrupts so much and so many, and I cannot stand to think of you interred as you have been, and physically harmed, as you are. It is time for you to give this up methinks,” he persisted.

“First, it was you, and then my mother left, and to wit, I know precisely where she has gone and my heart is glad for her. And it will come the day, when then I will join her. However, I cannot sit in this in-between land ad infinitum - Paradise is purgatory without love.

“Surely you must understand - of all the gods - that the Earthly Sphere is a wild and interesting place: it is a realm where one feels alive no matter what form one takes. I am still greatly amused there and cannot give up what I have known of it, and I agree - I agree that it has all gone wrong from the beginning … I do not know what happened to the form - something changed on that particular leap I made, and it ended up as it did - but let me tell you, I do not regret any of it.

“A simple bond or friendship … it is a joy to me … and Robin, you must know this well. I see you - you have such familiar relationships also with the mortals and I know you crave it too.”

Robin of course acknowledged that this was all correct; he did not mean to chastise Jupiter, yet he felt responsible for him and would continue to care for him anon.

“Very well then my dear Granoldi, I shall see you again in the Fall.” 

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