Capturing a God

Granoldi shook himself - a taser’s ray had just caught him on the back of his neck and a thin tube with his blood dripping into it was tugging at the fur, caught on his arm - it was connected to some kind of extractive device that wheezed with electronic bellows. 

Four elderly humans were glaring at him through a wall of wiry mesh. He groaned a deeply mournful bear’s groan. Jupiter had returned back into his familiar body to find himself being kidnapped and tortured by what it appeared to be some very low forms of life indeed.


Bryan had had the genius idea of purchasing a shark cage some weeks before - the kind where divers contain themselves for a subterranean viewing. It was assembled in Violet’s apartment ahead of time, and fitted with padlocks on the outside. It proved to be the ideal size for restraining a very large Bear.


“Like mother, like son,” snarled Peter.


“The great Romulus has delivered him to us”, Violet said with an almost childish compunction that did not suit her weathered face at all.


Lettie kept skewering Granoldi through the holes in the mesh - it had been some time since she had a victim larger than a cat to torture and she was clearly enjoying it. 


“I’ll go and get the acid” Bryan said matter of factly - his tone was so cool you might think he was about to serve a beverage. 


The four apprentice magicians were extremely pleased with themselves. 


“I’ve waited all my life for a conquest like this” Violet confided to Letty who was wiping the drool from her mouth with a handkerchief. 


The atmosphere of excitement from these depraved four was creepily sexual.  


“Who would have thought?” Leticia snickered, “We captured ourselves a god.”


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

Kisung Koh 

The Golden Lake

Beside the sea ran another sea. The people often speak of there being just one body of water that flows hither and thither, but in truth there are many currents within the one ocean, and many rivers in a torrent, and countless pools within the one lake.

This is relativity, and a far more subtle law of action within life’s movements and manifestation, and yet little pronounced or known about by elves, or men, or gods.

Jupiter stood once again at the side of the great Lake, waiting for his moment to enter. His back ached and his mind was tired - the lesser heavens had replenished him and fatigued him all at once.

He had craved the experience of Earthly existence more than he cared to admit. It was his own personal saga and he was not yet ready to quit this, his story.

The golden lake reflected back his own substantial glow - a shimmering auric halo that emanated all over and followed his every movement. The young god, dressed in silken breeches with a kaftan atop, wore but one amulet engraved with a bird seated upon an egg-shaped blue moonstone.

He undressed and folded his etherial garments into a sack of the same material which shimmered in the half light. He then unclasped his neck chain, and placing it too into the cloth bag. This had become his parting ritual to prepare him for the lower world - and he solemnly and thoughtfully laid the bag high in the arms of his favourite tree, worn smooth by his climbing, his only possessions now nestled in the lap of two enormous branches.

He then swung himself up and over the marble embankment and lightly dropped with an artful grace that would have been admired should anyone had seen him.

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

Fiery Fryery

Pablo Carlos Budassi

THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE

MOVED AN INCH TO THE LEFT

AND NO ONE NOTICED

- Klutz - 

This was now the third fryery burned to the ground - the hot oil would catch, and before Tindle knew it, the building from within, was alight.

“Thank the gods nobody’s been hurt.” Parrot spluttered.

It had been Parrot who had fallen asleep coddled in a whisky doze oblivious to the heat.

“Only for minutes I tell ye, no longer I say.”

It had taken just minutes to ignite. Tindle was exasperated.

“Perhaps you need a female understanding of the kitchen itself” Parrot had said edging back … he wanted to take his leave, as he saw the fury rising in his master like a secondary fire.

“You may go.”

Women were scarce for employment - all of the good ones were with family or imbedded in households already. Nathanius would have to look further from his coastal village to find one suitable.

It was a good plan. And so taking action a week later Tindle rode out on his long haired mare who equalled his height, being the tallest of the town … she, all colours, with a white diamond on her forehead.

In his satchel were two baked salted potatoes now cold, elegantly wrapt in the waxed paper from his chippery, and coddled again in a satchel of vellum.

Some said that the potato had no goodness within, because it was covered all over in the evil eye, and for this they would not touch it. Yet they were commonly eaten along the coast; stored and brought in, by the ships that travelled, and used for their own meals onboard.

When Tindle had dressed them in oil, and cooked them thusly as the stranger had instructed, the people could not see the eyes - and when seasoned, their happiness became tenfold.

What knowledge has a slave of the kitchen? Perhaps none. He thought over the problem repeatedly and at each turn of his mind decided the inevitable: a wife, this is what he should get - a wife. For as a wife she would be trustworthy, and bound to his household, and a fine long-term prospect for the chippery.

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

Silver Tree

A tree of silver dropped a leaf one at a time: each day just one of its leaves chinked onto the scattered mass beneath.

Jon had dreamt of finding this tree ever since his pa had told him the story of it - and for a metalsmith, this would be the prize of all prizes to own and to smelt.

Oh! he had thought many times what he could do with these leaves if he could but find one.

At the fireside where the three men sat, Zithia, without warning, handed Jon a small silver leaf. There could be no mistaking - its markings were similar to that of the fabled Argent Ash, and its metal was radiant - glittering crisply in the night light.

Jon could not help himself, he let out an audible gasp, and all three strangers looked to see what it was that Zithia had handed to him.

“Child, do you have more of these tokens?” the earless stew-eater urged.

“My God”, said Jon to himself, and to it truly was to God he appealed, for Jon feared an uncommon interest was arising from this revelation.

He thought quickly.

“No my kind man, this is the only one I have, it was sold to us at the Maundy market - at Blair’s end … there is an old trader who has a bag of such leaves and is charging but a ha’penny a piece.”

The three said something in their own dialect and after their conference, they gathered up their mats and bags.

“Will you sell us your token for that which you paid?”

“Surely yes”, replied Jon, relieved that they had bought his story into the bargain.

And so the commercial travellers left and Jon was satisfied with his finances improved. He could not afford to be sentimental about the leaf itself, or be glum that he missed the chance to study it. He did not even wonder where his little companion had got it from, but as usual Zithia spoke nothing to him, although she did manage a small smile, as she well understood her part in the ridding of this questionable crew.

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

Needles Versus the Ghouls

A fight broke out in the corner of the room; the ghosts had returned and had not taken kindly to Pine-needles as he bustled about purposefully as usual. 

There were four or five of them that set upon him, and in the scuffle their exact number was hard to tell, because they had the ability to morph into one, which when combined, made them all the stronger.

Over the course of several minutes, if you were clairvoyant enough to see, there was the vision of many contorting odd shapes and sizes, as the ghosts would one minute be surrounding the tempered dwarf, to then combine into one almighty blob of ectoplasmic anger, coating him as it were with themselves, stifling his activity, and then hurling their dark green ectoplasmic snot around the room with exaggerated squeals of triumph.

Rarely are the spirits that remain behind in the earthly realm jovial: they are usually a miserable lot - malcontent, complaining, awkwardly difficult, refusing to repent or reconcile, with an inability to simply move on.

Eve sensed that this dark cloud had descended into her apartment, but with no clear discernment she placed the upset onto Puck, as well as her embarrassment at being caught in the bed of Granoldi.

She was inwardly terrified that he would now take the bear from her. And so for the first time in a long time, an unsubstantiated complaint against Puck himself, arose inside of her.

“I think you should leave” she said as coldly as she could.

Puck appeared to be staring into space, but was just watching the comedy that was Needles versus the Ghouls, waiting for his moment to break up the pummelling that had now moved itself closer to the front door.

A red pilates ball exploded with the tension, and little pieces of rubber shed themselves onto the floral carpet.

Puck began picking up the little pieces, and as he knelt down Eve could see the top of his crown - there was some white hair beginning to wind its way into the gorgeous golden brown curls. She took a step back from him, surprised to think of him in any way as much older than herself.

As he read her mind he recoiled from this thought also. He had never in any way thought of himself as being older, or getting older, ever … but it was to be true within worldly years … his energy levels simply had not been quite the same.

It is interesting that one may be immortal in other Spheres, and yet tire in the physical world - even the highest of spiritual beings have been known to find the physical world and its pressures so very demanding.

He sat down on the couch, and she sat beside him.

“What is your thinking?” she asked.

“It’s become complicated” he said, “when I close my eyes there is but a panorama of sadness from beginning to end. I see the stories of men and how they play out, and whilst there is joy bespeckled amidst the sorrow, the hardship continues.”

Eve misunderstood what was being said, and replied: “You are only one man, and one man can only do so much. Do not be so hard on yourself.”

He sighed a gentle sigh. Her hand pressed onto his wide shoulders but something made her pull it back almost as quickly as it had landed.

Pine-needles had managed to chase the ghostly group out of the apartment. He had discovered that spraying a mist of citrus fruit bothered them terribly, and their evacuation was soon complete. He then took himself down the street and back to the shops to collect more supplies for the pantry.

“Look at me” she said demandingly to Puck.

He did, and all he could see was the girl from the Franciscan forest who had spent her entire past life in the service of others.

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

Foreign Tongue

The carrots looked like parsnips and the parsnips looked like peat. Three idlers lopped by and lingered, staring at the stew pot with obvious desire, and then over to Zithia who was placing the kindling onto the fire beneath, to keep it on the boil.

Jon fidgeted with his pa’s little knife in his side pocket, and then saw that one of the trilogy was missing his ears. This could only mean one thing - he was a Jew from the Abrahamic land … most likely on the run from his own - for in their land they often severed body parts in exchange for debts unpaid.

“No wheres to hang my pretty earrings eh Monti?”, said the deformed man to little Zithia - who Jon had given his earring to, with its bright gold glittering in the firelight.

He had done this not long after the market-woman had cut all her hair away and he wanted to win her cheerfulness back.

Jon grew more and more uneasy with the strangers gaping at them so.

The three seated themselves in front of the fire and Zithia gave each a small tin cup. She then sat beside Jon and drew the side of his overcoat protectively around her. The blackness of her skin made her all but concealed save for the earring and her beautiful eyes watching them steadily.

“What business have ye here?” Jon enquired cordially as they helped themselves to the stewing pot. They ignored him completely, speaking in their own tongue to one another.

“Jacob, your mama calls to you - she says that your brothers despair and the money you have hidden from them needs to be returned.”

The man whose name was Jacob appeared dizzy with these words. He broke into English - “How does this child know my Mama? And from where did she learn to speak to me in my own tongue?”

Jon was equally perplexed as this was the very first time he heard Zithia speak. So, she was not a mute after all, but had simply been raised in another land. 

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

Dangerous Bedfellows

Eve woke from the loveliest dream - she was immersed in a shining lake being held up by a man who engaged her with such a virulent love …

“Wake up!”called a voice close by.

Granoldi’s warm body beside her groaned and exhaled from his rear - with this Eve turned over and opened one eye to see Puck standing beside the bed appearing quite agitated - very possibly because she was under the blankets with the Bear.

“What do you think you are playing at?” he demanded (with genuine concern for her wellbeing).

“Don’t you realize he could roll over in his sleep at any time and suffocate you? Or worse?”

“Well if you put it that way.” She wanted to make light of the situation and was beginning to feel embarrassed at herself.

“It's all the fairy cakes you’ve been making me,” she said lightly with a smile.

“What fairy cakes?” Puck asked irritably. He was uncomfortable to find that his judgement housing Granoldi had been totally off.

“The ones delivered at morning tea. Just love the violet topped cupcake - it is very kind of you.”

Puck could see Pine Needles in the background running around the apartment setting the table for breakfast as they spoke. He hadn’t thought twice about it until now, but decided to let that conversation pass for now.

Eve hurriedly made a dash for her own bedroom to get a robe and straighten her hair, having only the thinest singlet covering her. Puck waited and helped himself to a butter muffin.

“Any jam?” he asked Needles, who was busy setting a second place for him.

“Raspberry would be best”, he called to the dwarf as he soft footed it out the door to get the spread.

It could be expected that Pine Needles could simply ‘magic’ his materials from some fairy fare, but he did not - instead, he was collecting all of his groceries from the bakery and the local supermarket - the fruiterer, and sometimes even the cafe nearby … He just piled them into his magic weightless sack (the same kind that Santa Claus uses to transport his bulk of deliveries) and made his way back to her apartment.

Eve had all the while thought this to be Puck providing for her.

“We have to talk,” he said, as a small pot of country conserve hit him in the head from behind. 


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