Charismatic Captor

Jonathon had to wait three days before anyone had come by, to then help hoist him up and out of the well. 

During this time Fatima had lost herself also. On the first day Jon went missing she left for the town to go look for him … and did not return.

Fatima had met with a charismatic captor, who had beguiled her into a faraway journey, in which she, in her innocence, became subject to his magic, and had been restrained from ever returning back to Jon alive.

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

Reaping the Whirlwind

Everyone knows in Faerie to avoid the whirlwind when it is billowing throughout the realm.

On ancient maps you can see the faces of the north wind and of the south, of the east, and of the west, blowing across the parchment, with good nature, showing their characters to be most noble.

But the whirlwind has not such a divine pedigree. Its voracity will pull one into a dark heart with a centrifugal force, and draw you into its whirring depths - often sucking the victim into the portal of its dark matter.

The whirlwind of itself holds no malcontent. It is but the dark angel of Karmic rage. The wraith of cause and effect. The veritable sword of Damocles, the cosmic sweeper collecting up the mess of Mankind .

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

Dark Well

A little bird had told him that it was not safe to collect the water at night - it had tried to caution Jonathon, however, not being conversant in bird speak he had ignored the chattering, and persisted.

Jonathon had leaned into the well a little too far and when the wet pail had slipped from his grasp, and as he instinctively moved forward to catch it, he landed flat onto a cross beam some five foot down.

There was a crude fretwork of wooden beams holding the sides of the hole from collapsing, and Jonathon had managed to hold onto one above his head, whilst balancing on the wood beneath. The grimy footing was only inches wide.

He thought of Fatima, and of how he loved her so. It had only been a handful of weeks they had spent together, after she had found him at this very well, at a time when he had lost all direction.

He wished he was on the other side of its wall now. Frightened to move, lest he would slip down even further, he began to call out, even though he knew there would be no one to hear him. This community never ventured outdoors at night, as they were generally too vexed with whatever malady confined them there. He was, by their standards, the fittest amongst them. It would be a long cold wait until morning.

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

His Maria

A young woman was sitting on a stone seat at the far edge of the garden. With the light behind her, he could see through the linen dress draped over her shoulders, a fine form defined in haloed silhouette.

She smiled with recognition, as he made his way to her side.

“Come lie beside me Jacob”, she said taking his knobbled hand, and placing it in her lap.

He could see now that she resembled the marble statue of a young woman reclining over the tomb that she and he was sitting upon. It was not a garden seat after all, but a slab that covered a coffin.

“Maria? my Maria?”

“Heaven is good and kind, dear husband. And I have waited now so long for you. Step out of your decrepitness and come to me now, as you have done before.”

He pulled away. He wanted to be with her, yet he was frightened. The wraith took up some of the morning light and became semi transparent, her presence was thinning. She looked at him lovingly before vanishing completely.

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

Broken Fiddle

The old man looked down at the splintered wood of his violin and cursed the diddle-o under his breath. His son had never respected him - and now he had taken his only joy. Life would never be the same. “My heart is aching for my beloved fiddle.” He cursed again.

His only chair was in splinters also. The tall grain bag had been split and scattered the floor. There was blood on the tiles - Jacob’s blood - from where he had hit his head.

“That boy was never any good”, he muttered to himself.

The sun was beginning to rise, and he did not feel cold of it, but rather strangely warm. The elderly man fumbled for the latch, the door was already open.

Outside, the air smelt of Spring. A golden light permeated the garden, and lit the flowers, nudging them to open. Jacob blinked at its brightness.

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

Toast

“You can see me?” he [Puck] asked, this time dissolving into their common space and floating up into the ceiling.

“Yes, I can still see you” she said, now a little sarcastically.

“What about now?” he asked, surrounding himself with the strongest glamour he had to muster.

“Yep” Eve said, taking off her shoes and walking into the hall to find her indoor slippers.

Puck followed her.

Eve went into her small kitchen and dropped two slices of grainy bread into the silver toaster. Puck followed.

She put the kettle on, and he was still hanging around.

Eve was well used to spirits shadowing her, but was beginning to notice something very different about this one. She looked over her shoulder … he was eating her toast.

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

Shooing the Ghosts

~ Truth is the nucleus to which all philosophies circulate. ~

Crowded in the corner was a huddle of ghosts. They seemed to be watching his every move. Puck got up from the couch to shoo them on.

“Stop! what are you doing?”

“A little house-cleaning - you seem to have some unwanted guests.” Puck said well pleased with himself.

Eve objected. “I don’t know what you think you are doing here, but they are my friends. The only unwanted visitor is you.”

She instantly felt she had gone a bit far in saying this, but he had startled her. By all appearances this ghost had got a little taller, and somewhat bossy.

The group in the corner moved in a little closer. Needles was amongst them. There was a collection of great aunts and uncles, and a few unrelated spirits, who Eve had recently met during readings.

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