Pine-tara

Puck drew in a big breath and cast it over the four witches - going from one to the other he gently exhaled and each in turn closed their eyes and fell asleep.

“You haven’t killed them, have you?” asked Eve tentatively.

“They’re already deceased” laughed Puck as he piled their mud cased bodies under a pregnant tree. Its leaves had diminished but its tangle of boughs gave the impression of a fulsome foliage.

Moments later the witches had reduced to dust and all four had disappeared altogether.

“We exhumed but an impression of these souls” he said … “that mud covered a nothingness, an astral sheath”.

Eve seemed to accept this explanation without concern.

“Who is this?” she asked, fully forgetting the former dialogue and pointing to Needles, who had positioned himself at her feet and was staring lovingly straight up at her.

“That is Pine-tara” Puck said, “the keeper of Mediums, a guide to the departed.”

‘Pine-tara’ appeared to be lost in thought. Eve smiled down at him, and he, radiantly returned the grace.

* * *

“The wars have always showered down affecting the world of Men.” Jupiter said, by way of an excuse for the recent consequences. Jupiter threw a look at Puck. “Fair go” he said quizzically, “it's everywhere”.

He felt Eve’s gaze upon him, an all familiar connection again. It was sweeter than sweet.

“He has a tendency to philosophise the obvious” said Puck blandly. His mood well matched the landscape.

Jupiter made a gesture with a mocking contempt - to which Puck shoved his shoulder and sent him forward into a grimy bush. All he had to do was think with force to push his brother from his balance.

Jupiter picked himself up. Goober could see a feint aura emanating from him momentarily flash red.

“Brother, I am beyond Philosophy” said Puck, its constant incongruities vex me to no end.”

He then turned to Goober who was called to referee an argument that erupted between Needles and Tweak. Puck could not make out what the disagreement was about but it was becoming ever clearer to him that the temperature of the heavens where they were was rising and the atmosphere was fast losing its usual tranquility.

Goober conferred - his fine frame bent with anxiety.

Remarkably Eve was peaceful throughout. She was fixed on Jupiter admiringly, and had nought thought for anything else. 

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

Sylvia

“If the spirit fled the lake, where has she got to?”

“Well ordinarily as things progress in the heavens, she would have just moved further aloft but I do not sense this to be the case now. I scanned all over the higher spheres for her whilst we spoke there was nothing to be found - which leaves us with one of two things: the soul of the lake has either been taken, or is in hiding, and it'

Amos Nattini

s imperative we find out which is it is, that we may reinstate her.”

Eve was aghast, she had woken from her hazy happy stupor daydreaming about Jupiter, and had been listening to every word intently with no idea of what any of it meant, or how this could have happened, yet she trusted this solemn group of friends in all that was said nonetheless.

“Do we know of her name?”

“Yes. It is Sylvia.”

“You don’t think those four were trying to eat her do you? or something gruesome like that? Or, perhaps smuggle her out to Romuface? …”

“Well, they might have tried but it would not have been possible. Not for them at any rate. I doubt their kind could even perceive such an ethereal sprite.”

The atmosphere was beginning to darken, and a muddy cloudy shade of purple was closing in all around them.

Goober looked at Puck as if he knew what this new development meant. That was the lake had now dried down so much it had become a veneer of hardened mud so thick you might have been able to walk upon it - in reality it was like a quicksand.

“There will be no one passing this way anymore,” said Jupiter to himself dolefully.

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

Fault Lines

Olga Kreuzfahrer

Jupiter’s hand touched Eve’s ever so lightly and in a flash he saw her in times past, sitting in a wooded grove with her back afore a tree, leaning sideways against the great Granoldi. He remembered so clearly her kindness and comfort. There were decades of friendship, and a bond that only such a communion can bring. He came to realise with that one touch from her, very possibly she was the only mortal he have ever been close to - he saw it all.

Puck’s voice broke his daydream.

“It’s your fault.”

“No, it surely is not.” a surly Jupiter retorted in an exaggerated and sour tone. Jupiter was repulsed with this idea, and moreso that Puck would even suggest it.

“I beg to differ” said Puck emphatically, with his arms crossed and feet firmly on the ground.

“The way I see it” he continued “is that your unholy fascination with you being a bear has caused only trouble and this was exactly how it started … this wretched contamination of the lower Heavens.”

They cast their eyes out to the lake which now appeared to be coagulated blood.

“Cross contamination of species! They must have got some of your tissue or your blood when you were in the body of Granoldi.”

They all knew that blood was a most holy conveyance for the soul within.

“Souls manifest in fluids - they like to travel and move about constantly - they live in the world, and because of, the blood.” Goober said quietly to Eve who was listening intently but had fallen far behind in her understanding. “Mortals incarnate in their blood, their souls circulate through the blood.”

Eve said simply: “Oh.”

Jupiter could feel the weight of depression descend yet again remembering the cannula and the jar they had collected his own blood with.

Eve thought for a moment. “Do you mean to say that when these four witches (the pitiful four were still nearby mumbling and grumbling) would take another’s blood to literally try to steal his soul?”

“Simply put - yes. This is the entire point: it was never about chasing enduring youth by consuming the blood - it goes way beyond that - it is all about capturing souls.”

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

Going Back to Sherwood

Patrick Lynch

Feathers of snow had started drifting in, and the white sky was descending so much so that Jon-Jon was beginning to doubt where he was. It was getting difficult to see through the flutter.

In a brief snatch of anxiety the woods of the Hode had evaded his finding. Jon panicked. His disappointments had been so many throughout his time he expected now only failure.

Oh for the cradle of Isabelle!

Yet Jon need not have worried, for the clearing that he had departed through a time before, became apparent once again; and the small whistle in his pocket had swiftly guided him well. Straining to see what he could not see, he finally found Isabelle waiting for him.

“We have always a need for a good black-smithy” she said warmly, taking his hands in hers. “You may reside here with me as long as you wish, my dear Jon of Robertus.”

“But I bring nothing to thee” he said downcast.

“Nay, you bring me all anyone can, and the happiness and relief of your company.”

She looked steadily at him and continued: “I caution thee however - never invite black moods or dark thoughts into these woods, for such mischievous sprites are hazardous to our home here particularly.”

“I still have so much to learn my dear lady.”

“And learn it you shall.”

No snow was falling in the this special place. The air was sweet and the smell of summer was all about.

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

Etherial Lamp Post

Life here in the world was but an aphorism for life in the heavens - one of many - yet with a particular divinely distinct lens, a telescope that was definitive - life in the mortal world also brought contrast into the souls of the men and the women who strove to navigate its courses.

The lamplight was still burning bright in the hinterlands of Faerie.

“Here we are” said Puck to Tu, as they made their way to the solitary post. A memory stirred in Tu from his childhood … “Aww a lamp of the old world” he said admiringly.

“Some things never change” said Puck earnestly nodding, reminiscing about an old friend with hairy legs and balls to match. "He was a warrior of sorts, although you would have never guessed it … he overcame his timidity - and here we are.”

He read Tu’s thoughts - “you can always return back here boy, now you know the way in.”

“And” he continued, “we do have something extraordinary to achieve. Faerie is really more of an in-between place - even for its natives - it is the perfect repose … but of itself, it is but a sweet dream, going neither further nor back … a time to collect oneself perhaps. However, and I mean this wholeheartedly, we are desperately needed elsewhere.”

And then, with the help of the lighting of the etherial lamp post, they were instantly transported into the lesser heavens, where the goat and the company were eagerly waiting.

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

Symbiosis Dislocated

Puck plucked one of the invisible ‘eyes’ off from the wall. They were medallions that were attached like astral molluscs - suction-capped spying tools: occult surveillance that was particular to whom it went back to. He pried one off the wall above and put it into his side pocket. This would trace its way back to its owner. Just what he needed to find him.

“There’s nothing more here” he said to Pine-Needles who was steadfastly scrutinising every move Puck made.

Puck scanned Eve’s apartment one more time and then bent down and scooped up the elderly dwarf. Moments later they were in the enchanted land, just six feet away from the unsuspecting Tu who, had been conversing earnestly with a Ginseng about the doctrine of signatures.

The Ginseng stood as tall as himself, and moved his arms and hands emphatically; and as he talked little straw bits fell from his chin and bark from his fingers. He seemed impassioned with the subject, finishing his monologue with the words: “It takes one to know one”.

Tu caught the meaning of this and laughed out loud.

“I see what you mean my man, but of course!” This was something of a revelation - the interconnectivity of species and soul and the properties they can impart and share with one another. The wise Ginseng, alike to Tu, was a master of the esoteric wisdom. Their shorthand conversation to matters at hand perfectly suited one another, and hesitantly Puck had to interrupt them both just to get their attention.
 
Puck couldn’t help noticing that Mr Ginseng was mirroring Tu’s movement - or, that it was the other way around - and these two being in sync like this was appearing very much like a vaudeville show.

“Steady up boys - here you hold this” - he handed Mr Ginseng a golf ball that he ethered up from seemingly nowhere.

“Keep it in your hands and turn it around every minute or so” Puck instructed, and with something as simple as this the symbiosis dislocated, and the both of them calmed down.

Now he could get Tu’s attention, he smiled a warm smile saying:

“Worry beads will do the same”, Tu was familiar with working with beads, but still missed the reference. He had no idea of the connection he had been forming with the old root.

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

Mesmerised by the Mystery

Alex was a rigger working fourteen to twenty weeks at a time marooned on a multistorey platform island, salt rusted and mollusc encrusted, pumping oil both day and night - the plant never skipped a beat. 

And, partly because there was nowhere to go to, the men settled into their relentless routines stationed atop the thumping waves and vibrating motors, with the noise being so impossibly loud, it may has well have been a silent retreat for the little conversation it afforded.

It changes a man to live at sea for any length of time: they become other-worldly by instinct, after a while.

When Alex had first met Romulus he fell for him instantly. Superficially one might say the attraction was little more than desire, given the beauty of the man-demon; however, in truth, it was Alex becoming of this man. 

In essence most love affairs begin with the ineffable sense of the unknown to be known - the enchanted promise of anticipation and the expectation of something absolutely thrillingly wonderful to come. But as it turned out this experience of getting to know Romulus had become as dark and painful as the hidden character himself.

And yet Alex stayed with him, abused, and often screwed, he came when he was called, tortured by a sadist who had no real affection for him, or anyone else at all.

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