Stolen in the Night

It was midday when Jon woke with a pulsing head and strained eyes, to see a line of coins … small golden coins - laid out upon his mantle. The fire in the hearth had disappeared, and being Winter’s eve, it was cold, so very cold within his little house. And worst of all, Zithia had disappeared also.

When Jonathon realised that Zithia had not returned, he immediately felt a rock in his stomach, a cold hard rock of upset. Up until now he had forgotten what it had been like to have his loved ones simply vanish from his life - and this felt doubly troublesome … for all of their time together Jon had never acknowledged what she was to him. They had lived so perfectly together the two had blended into one, and he had not thought of it. Now it was that everyone had left him one way or another.

This confusion he felt quickly shed into rage, as it occurred to him that it was Tindle who had literally stolen her from his house in the night - and the coins placed there were nothing but a sarcastic and very sinister token to have been left in her place for exchange, indicating this to be true.

He collected them up into his handkerchief along with the night’s leftovers and stuffed them into his saddle bag. He then filled a flask from the urn, gathered two blankets hurriedly (one for himself and one for his horse), took a few minutes more to relieve himself and say a hurried prayer, before departing out onto the road to go find her.

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

Across a Crowded Room

Ten years passed with Jon living rough with Zithia at his side: an unlikely pair: Jon approaching his thirty-fifth year, and Zithia, her eighteenth.

They had looked after one another as brother and sister do; and although Zithia was almost a woman, Jon did not see her as such, he simply cared for her protectively, as she also cared for him.

Where romance was entertained, Jon still pined for his spirit-love Fatima - who was long gone pursuing the cosmic circuit - carefree, and far from the Mortal world of woe.

He really had no sense of her presence anymore, just the fantastical recollection of their short time together in youthful love.

The day was prosperous as Jonathon had just completed a consignment of two dozen tankards for the Blood and Bone Sheffield Tavern. The establishment itself welcomed the community and travellers alike. It was the town’s best meeting place - it being the one common ground where nobles could intermix with the lower classes freely with true and genuine friendships. Business also was transacted in the Blood and Bone with its low lamps lit, pelts on the whitewash walls and trophies hanging from beams. There was an atmosphere of abundance, with platters of cooked meats (mainly rabbit) and complementary breads well shared.

Zithia followed closely behind Jon carrying a tray of the newly forged tankards. She was always mistaken to be his servant, and this brought a certain prestige to Jon - even though it was not true.

This young woman had all the grace and presence of an Egyptian princess. Her long hair was jet black, her teal green eyes were framed with a natural mascara of luxurious eyelashes, and her complexion was of warm mahogany. Zithia had not grown very much in height, being barely five foot tall, and she was often mistaken to be just a young girl.

She would sing unusual songs that were unknown to Jon … the melody was so intoxicating they sometimes collected income for them, from her street recitals when resources were poorly.

However, of late there had been no need to put the cap out, as Jonathon’s foundry was prospering - so much so, that he now owned a thatched cottage that was situated only two miles from the town, that had rooms enough for them both, and a fireside workshop as well to work his metal.

Theirs was as a harmonious relationship as one could wish for. She anticipated his needs from morning to night, supplementing his day with all kinds of nourishment, whilst he looked after the world and its worries, housing the two of them safely, with clothing and warmth, protection, and the food that they needed.

The tavern was half-lit preparing for the night and already filled with a haze of smoke that carried across its enormous hall within. There was just the one open space inside, and three huge fire grates running along its north wall. The farmers had begun drifting in, and Jon had to push through a small crowd just to empty his cart and go find the patron.

A sharp tap on his shoulder from behind startled him and Jon dropped his tray of eight cups sending them clashing onto the stone floor beneath, rolling under many feet. Zithia had gone ahead. She did not see the giant who proceeded to pick Jon up under his arms and swing him around like a rag doll.

“Tindle? Oh Lord! Tindle!” exclaimed a very surprised and happy Jon, picking himself up from the ground he had been dropped upon. The crowd had moved into a small circle, pressing in, to see what was going down. Zithia tried to see also, but could not squeeze through the men watching.

Meanwhile, Jon decided to play to his home crowd, and rushed at Nathan as hard and fast as he could, head first, grabbing at his knees, and pushing him backwards into the group that then took the weight of his bulk, and were considerably displeased by the bruising that came of it. Jon then took a half empty tank from a tray and tipped the liquid onto Tindle’s head; and to finish off, hurled a bread scone at his chest in jest, followed by another and another, until the joke soured completely.

For what appeared outwardly to be prank had also an undertow of child-like pain for Jon resented his one and only friend (before Zithia) leaving him as he did. Tindle had walked away from him without a thought or care, and this was the first he had seen him in ten whole years. This stung.

Tindle was keenly aware now of the underlying angst when Jon started stuffing lamb’s brains down his smock top. The small gathering had been largely amused, for by all appearances their Jon Jon was attacking a newcomer who dwarfed him by two feet or more.

Tindle did not take the pelting unkindly - he was so pleased to see Jon alive … he surveyed the room, realising that a set of dark eyes was upon him, and he quickly mistook her intent to be more than curiosity. Tindle had never seen such a girl before. The seaside port conveyed exotics frequently, but he had seen no one like this ‘siren’ who was now watching him. Zithia glowed in the candlelamp light, her woollen cowl of pale apricot had fallen back exposing her dark shoulders, and her silken hair, as black as a raven’s coat, curtained her face, cascading down her slender back. All of this he saw amidst the chaos.

She was only half his size - he liked this also. The ale-soaked room fell away and his mind went to his purpose that had taken him on this journey inland … namely to find a wife.

I have found her! he said decidedly to himself. He then picked Jon up, and threw him over his shoulder, he then carried him outside to the adjacent stables into the bite of the cold night air.

Tindle persuaded Jon to let him stay at his cottage, and Jon readily agreed being so joyous that this could occur.

That night the two drank until they slept - having shared stories, past midnight. Ordinarily their paths were so oblique in common life, the one would have not have had anything to do with the other - there was so little shared experience to be had concerning the decade behind them.

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

Crystal Clear

The lanky tall Elf had taken his eyes off Tu for only a few minutes, to speak with a gardener who had approached him about beans. The gardener had looked quite frantic and was incredibly excited to see Goober back in the homeland. Meanwhile Tu had been helping himself to a cup of water at the well from a crystal Goblet. (The Goblet was of course an invention of the Goblins, who crafted these drinking vessels out from clear crystal Quartz.)

“Stop! how much have you drunk?” yelled Goober insistently, when he realised what was to come next.

This well appeared similar to many of the other wells in Faerie - except for the sign in Elvish script engraved in its stone saying:

“Beware all who drink here”.

Tu obviously had not read the sign.

Goober put his hand to his forehead and closed his eyes.

“Oh Gawd, what did you have to do that for?” Of course he knew it was he himself that was to blame.

Tu stepped back … already his eyes were beginning to haze over. He quickly sat on the ground, the world had gone dark … he could hear voices but he could no longer see anything.

There was a rush of hot air around him - hot moist air - and the sweet fragrances had been replaced with the stench of burning … or more accurately - flesh burning.

He could hear a clashing and a banging. The sound was familiar, but he couldn’t quite place what it was, and worse still, coming to him, closer and closer, were the sounds of men crying mournfully, with the occasional scream puncturing the dense air about him. It was too dark to make out where he was, and what was happening.

He closed and opened his eyes, yet it was still the same either way. Tu clenched his fists with tension and attempted to stand up with his back against the well wall; he leant shakily on the shelf there … the stones felt slimy, perhaps moss? But no. It was a much thicker, stickier texture. 

In a strange way all of this seemed very familiar. If his depression had been let out of a bag, this is what he might have heard or sensed following him for all of his days. But no. It is an impossible thought. His depression manifest?

The ethers were beginning to lighten, and he could make out shapes in the mist in the half dark now. Vaguely as though in a the most terrible dream, Goober’s voice could be heard in the distance. Perhaps he had been transported somewhere else, he did not know, but he seemed very far away from his friend, and was helpless with the hellish noises all about.

As though there was a theatre curtain revealing what lies behind, so too there came to the Master, a vision of a bloodied and dismembered mass now fully lit. Hundreds of bodies, a tangle of metal, ruptured by yet more metal; maidens laid bare, old women broken boned, contorted, cradling infants - and he knew what this scene was in front of him - it was the vision of his legacy.

“They are not real my boy” came Goobers voice - “they are just memories of what passed long ago. When you drank from the well it revealed to you your overshadowing burden.”

“This, this then is all mine?” asked Tu, still caught between the vision and Goober’s voice. But he knew inwardly the answer. He knew in this instantaneous recall that this was of a time where he had led the charge that caused this suffering and death.

All in the name of good. It was a revelation. So much had happened since, where he had been buffeted through lifetimes of disarray running from this ineffable truth. This was on him. this scene of dereliction was his.

“No wonder I’ve been depressed” he said.

And as soon as he had said this, he was returned ever so swiftly back into the sunlight of Faerie.

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

Faerie, this Kingdom

It is easier said than done to transport a mortal into the realm of Faerie and have them remain conscious … the reason for this being that their consciousness is usually rooted in the Mortal realm and always, most naturally, will return there. 

As well as that, the scenery can be so changeable in the land of Faeries … one moment something is maybe there and then it disappears or morphs into something else. It’s a tricky place to navigate. As endearing and charming as most of the inhabitants, the wildlife, and the landscapes are, they are forever changing, and it is difficult for a mortal to find their bearings amongst this plasticity, and keep hold of their sense of place.

However, those with some faerie blood are more adaptable and it was this that Goober was counting on.

The very moment that Tu set foot into Faerie land with Goober at his side his misery lifted, and he found exactly what he had been looking for for a very long time.

He felt instantly at home.

What a remarkable landscape it was. Not to mention, the very clouds in the sky, they took on shapes - it was as an artistry - sensational performing pictures unfurling right before his eyes. If you looked up you could see all manner of faces, of forms, of animals, dancing across the blue canopy, in white: gently shaded and contoured, regal then comical, mythical, and so very real he could see their faces staring down at him. Unfurling and changing into the most beautiful panorama of expression.

It was as though these forms were impressions of scenes and beings that were somewhere else … he made a mental note to study them at a later time. And then Goober drew his attention to the atrium to which they were walking. This also was like no other.

“I feel I should explain to you something of this realm”, said Goober, “to put it in perspective … Mortals have long thought of Faerie as a place of no real consequence, that it is not to be believed, and that it is only made of the substance of dreams and fantasy: that somehow it is less substantial than the world of their own.

“This could not be further from the truth. When the physical world was born, Faerie, this Kingdom, was and is, the original Garden from which all else came from. The Gods preserved it in the event that the Mortal world deteriorated into something less recognisable.

“This realm is the blueprint from which yours unfurls. This place is the original - it speaks to the truth of spirit and the creativity of the Cosmos, whilst your world is an arena that departs this, and the heavens.”

Tu looked down at his feet. He had the weirdest sensation that they weren’t quite touching the ground. As he moved along beside Goober it was as though thought propelled them, rather than the effort of the knee - it was a curious thing.

And the path itself was made up of tiles and the tiles had engravings in every sixth or seventh one, not hieroglyphs as such, or symbols, but curlicues and cottage art.

The air, he found, was sublime. Tu used to love the fragrance of the wood fire or the scent of a girl, or the smell of a fresh and ripened fruit, this air was something else, it was even more delicious, he breathed deeply and closed his eyes.

“Are you alright my boy?” Goober asked.

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

Tu Saves the Day

“I’ve grown rather partial to boiled eggs” said Goober starting in on his fifth one.

Tu looked across the table in disgust. The smell of sulphur, and the crack and crunch of the shell, was truly irritating.

“I need something more, the quiet here is getting on my nerves again.”

Goober took one of the eggs and spun it on the table it kept its momentum for a full minute before wobbling and toppling and sliding to the floor.

“Where would you like to go?” the aged Elvish gardener asked the young Sensei.

“Anywhere but here” he answered dolefully.

This repeating depression was becoming as predictable as the seasons, Goober thought.

“Very well” he said decidedly. His angular face softened and he whispered some words which were inaudible to Tu who now had his head in his hands.

“You’ve had a pretty rugged time Richard, if we go back into the present, you know …it's pretty fast, and, I am worried that with too much pressure again you’ll start drinking and Ill have to pick you up from the road - it's not a good look”, Goober added sincerely.“Richard? Why did you call me Richard just now?”

Goober paused and said casually, “Oh I just think of you more a Richard or a Ricky, than rather Brogan or Tu. Tu does not feel right as a name at all. Besides, what was your name again, before you came to the monastery?”

Tu fell silent. He could not relate to his life before the monastery, it was all a blur. It had felt, in one word, unsatisfactory. Nothing seemed to bring him joy except for the sun the wind and the trees. The city had little to offer - it was all too noisy, and he had not been able to find company that was relatable.

The thing was: Tu had faerie blood and it was this that made him restless. It's not something that you can find in the physical body, it is faerie blood that one carries from one life to the next, from origins and experiences - he just didn’t know it.

Goober would have liked to ask Puck his opinion on this, but Puck had taken himself off somewhere out of contact. And so Goober decided the time was right for a change -

“Hows about a trip to Faerie Land?” he said with all the cheer he could muster.

Tu was unresponsive - it was as though he had not heard him.

Ignoring this Goober continued: “I'm pretty sure you’ll like it there - it might be the getaway you’ve been needing.”

Tu knew that Goober was not one to be sarcastic or whimsical - he was a straight up type of guy - nevertheless he had thought this conversation was pretty empty and very possibly Goober was making fun of him.

“Sure” he replied, “why not? I’ve nothing else planned for tomorrow - let me get my diary out, and I’ll save the day.”

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

To Second Guess Yourself is to have a Conscience

J. S. Lowry

Jupiter was encouraged. In truth, he had only seen the mortal world as an inconsequential parlour of a fleeting and fanciful drama, with costumes and language and a lot of death - oh yes, there was a lot of death. The mortals came and went so very quickly from that plane of existence, and in the most spurious ways. One could not really think of it as meaning much … at least, not until now.

Perhaps he had only seen the Physical World through the eyes of the Bear and this was the problem - he had never really been a proper human being as they were, perhaps his casual nature with the lesser world was just that. Seen through the eyes of a convivial beast - yes that could be it, and this was now to be his truth going forward.

Eve said excitedly, “and so to second guess yourself is to have a conscience - to question yourself … of course! this makes perfect sense.”

“Yes one can never really do that enough, can they? Sometimes I am so bound up thinking I know what is right and wrong and what I am doing myself, but I really need to keep questioning don’t I? Complacency is dangerous in and of itself, I can see that now - I must broaden my area of knowledge, I must widen my heart to encompass so much more, and I must hope above hope, that I have the strength to defend the defenceless. Oh I do feel inspired in this place” she said half forgetting the Azlan had visited just moments before, for the vision of him was now leaving but that which he had imparted had remained.

“So what now Brother?” said Jupiter turning to Puck, adding: “I am surely not diving into that mess, that we may return …”

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

Azlan Brought a Radiance

“You have been playing a dangerous game my son.” came a voice from the vines beside. 

It was the Azlan. The Azlan brought a radiance also, far stronger than that of either Puck or Jupiter - his emanated a calm all about - and instantly the three felt settled by his presence.  

They waited a cosmic minute for his words to follow. 

“My Dears - 


“Light and Darkness are never balanced. Nor is Good and Evil. One cannot balance a something with a nothing. 

“The mystery behind the disruptive forces of chaos and evility is that these particulars cannot even commit to themselves - they are their own undoing - and the foulness that would corrupt, corrupts itself.  

“Those who align with evility invite their own destruction. Our crusade, as caretakers of the Spirit - the One Spirit - is to remain indifferent to the theatre of destruction, and be true to the permanency of all that is good.”  

It was here that Jupiter spoke up.  


“But if all there is is to do nothing, how can that help? Are we to watch yet other parts of our realm become dispossessed and corrupted likewise?” 


The great Lion stamped one paw, and then another, and the whole ground beneath them shook. He then spun around effortlessly and Eve momentarily was worried that he was about to disappear without giving them more of those incredibly insightful words. Words that spoke to her inner Eve. 

“When you hear a truth you never forget it. It is an immortal gift. When you hold a truth it changes you from the inside out. And when you think of that truth, you become a little bolder and brighter every time.” 

Eve had not been frightened of the great Lion. She wanted to hear more from him. He scuffed the ground and then looked up directly up into her eyes. 

He looked at her for a steady moment and then not, taking his attention back to Jupiter. 

“You are asking if you should fight Evil my Son, for what I have told you speaks to the peace of outcome and the self apparent truth that goodness will prevail, as has always done …

“But in the intermediate, where we are contested, and wish only to stop the harm, I tell thee thus:

“When a good soul turns a blind eye to Evil there is a little more corruption because of this. When nothing is done, that could be done, Evil is empowered all the more. It is a bewildering truth, that at times the gods themselves have felt safe enough within their own realm, and distant enough, from the perils of the lesser Worlds, that even they have not invested themselves in this fight.

“And by their own complacency they are remit. And by ignorance and aloofness and such high mindedness that turns away from the struggles and trials of the Mortals this epi-theatre grows. And this is a living proof of the reach of Evil’s contamination if so allowed.


“To second guess yourself is to have a conscience. To be able to ask: what do I want, what can be done, what should be done? What have I done?

“And the noble path asks, that be us Man or God, we be vigilant in righting wrongs within ourselves, and that of our outer self. 

"And we shall be defenders of the peace, of the one true Spirit, that sustains and upholds the freedoms of all.” 


Puck wanted to give an almighty cheer when he heard this, or a little whoop at least, for he was, as they say, dancing on the inside to hear the Azlan speak once more - however this occasion was too solemn to distract the other two with his feelings. He looked across at the dark waters and was just about to ask the Azlan what could be done to solve this problem of infiltration but the Azlan had gone.

“He never could stay in any one place for any length of time.” Puck said apologetically to Eve whose expression was now quite sad. 


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