Her Silent Companion

Eve knew it well it could be thought of as unwholesome … and she did feel just a little shame. But then again, there was something to be said about the pleasure of finding one’s own unique happiness hidden from the world.

It had started one night when she had gone to check on the sleeping Granoldi to place yet another blanket over the big faerie Bear. The nights were getting colder in London and she had bought him several more over the wintery weeks, to save him from any circulatory disorder he could suffer.

Granoldi had become her silent companion, a warm presence in her otherwise empty apartment, and she would lie awake thinking of him being there in the room beside hers.

And then it happened - she could not quieten her thoughts - her iPhone and audio books did not help her get to sleep either and Eve found herself beyond restless. There was no one in the world except the two of them … even her ghosts had gone for the night. Perhaps she should check on him one more time?

Eve’s oversized slippers seemed to drag her feet unwittingly across the floor and into his room. She shuffled in the half light over to where Granoldi was sleeping and pulled back the layers of quilt and blanket she had placed there, she carefully slid into the bed beside him.

That night she slept more soundly than she ever had slept before. 

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

An Accident of Nature

In the rush of the tele-transportation Tu had slipped off his chair into the lap of a finely attired lady, and onto a soft bed of floor cushions and striped woollen mats. All fourteen of the table setting had travelled back, including Goober, whose bony face was stretched wide with a beaming smile.

“You’re going to spasm if you keep grinning like that” Tu said, trying to get Goober to see how serious this situation was. Goober was savouring the moment. The twelve perplexed guests were literally stunned into silence and he couldn’t have been more pleased with himself, or the outcome.

“Well I guess that is one way to win an argument”, Tu conceded.

“It could be termed the full ‘out of body’ experience my boy,” Goober laughed.

The party around them started straightening themselves on their mats and a few stood up looking for the exit. Curiously their silence persisted.

“Waiter!” a short woman in a garish moo-moo called to Parish, a secular brother. He ignored her, not recognising the reference. “Rude” she huffed, “where is the exit out of here?”

All twelve had followed each other through the door and to the gates of the monastery - none appeared to have realized they were actually in a totally different time, not place.

“Shouldn’t we go after them?” Tu asked Goober, who was still finding the humour of it happening.

“Nup” said the senior Elf shaking his head.

“But what about the space-time-continuum thingo - you know, doesn’t it change the world terribly to have people misplaced like this? Won’t events unravel dangerously if we don’t put them back into their own time again? You know, if a butterfly coughs the Amazon shudders?”

“Life always allows latitude. We could not breathe without it. The Space-time-continuum is much more flexible than people think - and besides, it weren’t us that brought them here in the first place. Call it an accident of nature.” He laughed again - not an evil laugh, just a modest chuckle.

Tu felt awake with this pondering. He had somehow been given to believe that the universe he travelled was inflexible: a tangle of Karma and progressive evolution. That one law rested upon another, and it would be too fragile to change.

Goober’s smile softened, and he looked appreciatively at this companion.

“Every atom moves with purpose, and every particle, amongst a confetti of stars, is of living light. The rarefied airs a soul breathes is of kindness, and the substance of Goodness, is itself, Life. Everything else is detail around this: the higher law of Being. Time, Space and its continuum is more - much more - than people think.”

Tu glimpsed the Master in Goober as he said this. He saw clearly that this tall weather-worn melancholic Elf was all that he himself wanted to become …

Fragmented memories hurled their way before his inner eye again, insisting they be acknowledged.

“This nonsense of a tall rabbit, of white fur and blood keeps repeating,” he said closing his eyes tightly, annoyed at himself for losing the sense of peace that had come to him just a minute or so ago.

“It's OK my boy”, Goober said, pushing a bowl of grains towards him, reading his thoughts. “I have a deep apology to make to you … kind-of why I have stuck this close to you. I should have been watching you on that day you were struck down, I should have looked out for you this time too. I am so very sorry.”

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

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