A Pure Voice Singing in the Darkness

The booming sound of rhythmic gongs pulsed the air, and the crowd fell suitably silent. This was followed by a single voice singing in the darkness surrounding them. It was a pure voice - high and like a bell - and with it came a fine mist that wound its way through the enormous room. In the half-light now you could see the heavenly bodies forming and re-forming themselves in the particles of that curling mist - these were the angelic beings who had come to join them.

The air became damp with their presence, after which the single voice was absorbed by a many. The lighting slowly and softly returned and in the high domed canopy above them they could see angels in their hundreds now lining the roof, looking down upon them.

"Why don't they sit with us?" Goober asked naively.

"It would be too much to bear for them," answered Puck quietly - "hard enough as it is for them to be here at all."

Across the faces beyond, Puck recognized Yang sitting in the stalls east of the thrones. There were some empty seats around him and his presence was somewhat conspicuous - with his bare feet resting on the row in front, this casual charmer was a real standout amongst the celestial splendour.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

The Goddess of Truth

It was like a theatre before the curtains went up, until the Goddess of Truth made her bright entrance, illuminating the room, purely with her presence.

She stood over fourteen feet tall Goober surmised. He had fallen in love with her instantly. There were thirty-three attendants trailing behind, some who mimed a slow and oddly stepped dance, some who played music, and others to carry her dress. The shimmering fabric of it floated about her and changed its colour, shifting from violet to an etherial blue - and patterned all over were frothy clouds that moved, just like the panorama of a sky would do.

Pea-sized diamonds draped her fine white neck, as a cascade of stars - each, a compounded Planet - one that had passed away many eons before - now she wore on her person. Her hair was raven black and swept atop her head and from her bare shoulders bulged two small wings, folded in.

She carried a golden sceptre that had balanced upon it a diamond the size of a goose egg. It was shaped and polished smoothly, and said to be made from the carbon of those lost to the damning of the court - their sum total now remaining. It would throw a fiery light out from it here and there, flashing intrusively into the eyes of the bystanders who caught its glimmer unawares.

She sat not far from the three, beside a raised dais that held two enormous saucers of silver. Her attendants took places behind her. Peering more closely Goober could now see that they were only children.

No sooner had she sat down did her dress darken to black and once again and the hall fell to shadow.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

With Trepidation

The three found that the walk through the court felt endless. "We should have come in from the other side of the pavilion?" Goober remarked in a hushed voice to Puck, thinking they had made their way the long way round. The little gold dog was trotting along behind.

"Shhh" came a cautionary voice, from a dwarf who sat with his family on the fifth row. "Typical" thought Nervina, already flustered by the ambience of this enormous hall.

Beneath their feet was a silver sand. This slowed the walking somewhat and got into the boots uncomfortably.

Goober was excited now, to him this was a pageant of sorts. Unlike Puck, this was his first time viewing the inner circle, and this depth of solemnity impressed him greatly.

Nervina was cringing with trepidation. He distinctly felt part of this Forsythe saga. He had no liking for the deeply serious, nor the superiority assumed here. Most of the company around him he found to be genuinely frightening and feared what they might see in his soul. He was finding it difficult to breathe and worried that he too might end up annihilated and lost eternally without ever having cake or friendship again.

They were seated just in time before the entire room darkened.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Hall of Judgement

Coming into the Hall of Judgement was daunting - it was the size of a small stadium and the power in the air bore a high velocity that the elves were unused to.

Goober had tried to text Pepper a message to let her know where they were and what they were up to - but the reception in there was non-existent.

A guide from the Old Sphere approached briskly and asked them to be silent as they were shown to their places within the court. He was a fine-featured spirit with a long pointed nose, and chiselled ears – ‘more elf than elf’, Nervina thought.

The rows of seats lay in semi circles and there were hundreds of onlookers already waiting in the amphitheatre looking down at them as they walked passed.

At the floor level there were forty-two tall thrones sitting approximately six feet apart from each other. Every one was carved in a polished onyx, detailed with intricate reliefs that displayed acts of sin and misfortune. They were specifically the deeds that incurred banishment from the earthly realm, artistically rendered into the furniture. Nervina wondered if these reminders were really necessary. Forty-two were a lot to have to walk past and view.

More disturbing still were the forty-two judges who sat high upon them. All were women, and each one was draped with a sheer black tunic and veil to match, as dark as midnight. It was impossible to see through them, save for a shadow of a bosom, or profile beneath this costume. But as to their age or expression, or whether they found favor or objection, the dark material concealed this perfectly.

This was the court of the Immortals. Humans went to Hell, but the Demi-gods and Demons came for their Judgement to this lofty place of perdition.

This was not a fate for the petty or transitory offenders. For most beings there is a karmic compass to reorientate the will and want. No, this was the end road for the indestructible spirits who foul the ethers without conscience, causing the gentle inhabitants of the earthly world unnecessary harm.

Here they listened to the final rants of the powerful, insatiable insubordinates, who defied the cosmic congenialities, overstepped authorities, blasphemed against the great and the Divine, caused death instead of furthering life; and above all, had declared themselves as God.

Marc-Marsden-Forsythe had breached these laws, taking license where he should not. The question was, would the conciliatory grace of the Angels now save him? Puck had hoped not. He was bitter and beyond consolation - tired of the games evility used, amusing only to themselves.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

The High Place of Truth

How impressive, thought Goober - treated to a hot spring spa - the Underworld really was proving to be a first class destination. Free robes too! What a great day.

They did not linger in the bathroom. Puck was keen to get back, and once again the three assembled in front of the palatial golden doors, waiting to be allowed inside. Looking up there was a sign above the mantle that read "That which is, IS".

"Methinks your tunic suits you well" Goober jibed Nervina, who was not sharing the mood at all.

Their costumes were quite plain - a simple robe such as spirit beings usually don, in comfortable folds, with a soft weave, all white, with fine belts of silver.

"I feel like I'm going to a wedding", said Goober cheerfully.

"You look like you're the ugly bride", said Nervina snakily.

"Will you two shut up,” said Puck a little tersely even for himself - he never snapped, but the air down there seemed to exaggerate the emotions terribly.

The usher returned and was satisfied. He permitted the huge doors to slowly yawn open. Goober gave the golden dog a farewell pat on its head when surprisingly the statue started to move, just as though it were a real dog waking from a sleep. He stood upright on the pillar, shook himself all over, stretched one little foot followed by another, and then leapt down, to follow them in.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

The Great Hall

Goober kept looking over his shoulder as they approached the Great Hall. Soon after they found themselves held up in the antechamber, blocked from getting any further.

"What is the hold-up do you think?" Nervina asked.

"Well they have their ways,” replied Puck, patiently.

It was rather large for a portico, and whilst the doors remained shut to them, they took their time viewing the artworks there, of which there were a many. Goober kept returning to a statue in gold of a small dog; it lay on a pillar facing out, and looked like a miniature greyhound - with pointed ears and sharpish snout.

"I hope we are not missing anything - they might have started without us" he said to Puck, leaning on the dog pillar.

Finally an usher arrived carrying a large bundle of clothing. His voice had the quality of treacle, Nervina thought to himself, in fact he smelt of treacle too. He had a strange way of speaking, for he chose not to look directly at any one of them whilst doing so. This made for awkward conversation.

"I have brought you more suitable garments" he said, looking sideways.

What were they thinking? They had forgotten themselves, and how earlier they had all dressed down to go out to the shelter ... jeans and sweaters were not worn in a place like this. He had a point.

"You must also get clean before being permitted to come in. I will now show you to the hot springs where you may enjoy the energising spa there. We suggest however, that you do not remain longer than thirty minutes as it begins to overtire the senses and you will find the vitality of it wearing."

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series

Infernal Affairs

There was a small dirt path that made its way to the gate that led to a car parking lot and a public garden.

In these grounds was a choir assembled at practice. It comprised of homeless men who were rehearsing their carols, preparing for the up and coming spiritual festivities.

Barnabus had grouped the choir together at a time when the local nursing home had wanted an act to replace the opera singer who had passed away. They also did gigs in shopping malls.

Beyond the fence "O Little town of Bethlehem" could be heard. The elves stood in the sunlight waiting, feeling melancholy listening to the words of that song.

They had not had a proper lunch, and the tea and biscuits just weren't enough to satisfy them at such a time. Puck tossed a milk crate into the air upside down, and then sat on it.

Goober tried to peer over the gate at the singers....

It was a full hour before Barnabus came out, alone, with a bag of sandwiches and three tins of cola.

"They've finally gone,” he said cheerfully. "Have you thought any more about the Tribunal?" he addressed this question to Puck.

"Well, now as it turns out we have the heart, it is all that we need to bring him to court. I just booked a session with Infernal Affairs. We have to be there by two."

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series