Life of Caradesance

The lifeforms of Caradesance – Humans


Or once again simply the absence of words.

Followed by the sound of someone being slapped. A trivial argument began emerging between two comrades. Which was followed by yet another slap. Both goblin and fourth dimensional butcher, had after all been forced together by circumstance. And now both beings were becoming irritated with each other.

[Get out of the chair.]


[I’ve had enough of you!]

The goblin slapped the butcher once again full force in the face.

{Stop that!}

The goblin did it again.

The butcher on the other hand tried to keep his hands in the goop. Which was currently forming the words you’re reading, using a mixture of goblin magical technology, and some heavy amounts of thick black sticky-tape. But-

[I am Vin Attorn, and I was once a hob-goblin of the slowest order.]

[I am now, but a humble goblin watcher of time and space, who has taken over the chair. As we move through the multi-dimensional universe, we are once more returned to the most backwards planet in the whole cosmos.]

Pause. The rustling of something metallic, which is then thrown away. Followed by the crunching sound of fried potato slices.

[Sorry. I had not yet eaten my breakfast.]

Pause once again. Complaining in the background that sounded slightly muffled.

[Today we are going to start our journey on the continent of Britstana. Where life is a little less primitive, and has been moving forward at the speed of a tortoise. Which continued trying to hike between two planets if that is at all possible.]

[So sit back and relax. As I take you on a journey through the so-called intelligent races of Caradesance. With me Vin Attorn in what I call, ‘the lifeforms of Caradesance’.]

We begin our journey through Britstana at the beach. Where the mid-day summers sun has brought the almost hairless homo sapiens out of their stone buildings. Like many intelligent beings across the multi-verse, these hairless apes tend to live in shared family groups. The creatures known as humans also found comfort in conforming to hierarchal obligations. That they tended not to share with each other.

In the animal kingdom, the most important factor to life is would be predators. Now as you know, a family unit keeps all its members safe. As the slowest of each pack is food for another animal. While that may still be true for some groups of humans in other places. Here on Britstana this hasn’t been true, since the trolls ate all the mountain lions. (Before they worked their way onto black moor panthers, enchanted forest tigers, and all the small-scale dragons.)

In the royal kingdom. The family unit had evolved over time into something which was meant to nurture, and care for each other. This bond was exactly what held the Thatcher family together. This household also lived in the fishing village of Nixa. Which was not so remarkably named after the local forest deity.

Their names for the record are Mic and Debra Thatcher, who had three children by the names of, Derk, Din, and Darren. Like all families currently on the beach, they were having fun on what was Mic’s day off. The children played with the pebbles, and had been told not to splash in the warm summer ocean. As Deb screamed at them to stop behaving like fools. Mr. Thatcher sat on the wooden pier with his friends watching their wives. Drinking the local ale.

For the moment they were all safe. Nothing can hurt our humans, whilst they are on land. Although there are things which lurk in the water that should not be so easily forgotten about. And I am not just on about the undercurrents.

Just beyond the rocky beaches out in deeper water. Laying in wait, were four large manic prandial fish. Named after their sweet, tasty, highly sugared flesh, (Which I am told tastes amazing with butter and lemon after being fried slowly.) and their obsessive collective nature. Fish in this case is a misnomer though, as these are more related to the lobster than a tuna. Although thanks to the magic of Caradesance you would think they were five-foot-long fish. Armoured and armed with pincers, where some fish might have a neck fin.

This collection of manic prandial was also a family unit. They might have been hunted by the fishermen of the royal kingdom, but once a prandial reaches maturity they can bring down a fishing boat. For this reason, mother, and father prandial, were keeping their two young close to them. Shielding them from the rocks being thrown into the water. Trying to figure out when the nets were coming.

A splash suddenly happened at the waters edge. All the members of the family unit could feel the vibrations in the water. This was new, and for the children a chance to eat something rare. Something which was just as equally tasty to them, as they are to us. The young didn’t wait for their parent’s permission to begin hunting. Permission to live and eat to the prandial are the same thing. They have permission to live, so they have the right to hunt. For all the armoured fish this was what they called the circle of life.

With the speed of the now extinct moor panther, the brothers zoomed off towards their prey. Within moments, they are close. No one has spotted them, so from their point of view, they are about to eat.

Derk, the youngest Thatcher child was playing in the water. Being only six-years-old. The kid was currently ignoring what the adults had told him about the ocean. As they weren’t paying him any attention, and the child simply wanted to splash around. That was what he was going to do. After all the small child simply didn’t understand what all the fuss was about.

The fuss though, was about to become apparent to Derk. He heard screaming from his mother. Which, over the waves, just sounded like she was having a go at him. Waving back, the lad smiled and splashed in the water some more. His father had already jumped off the pier, and was now trying to run through the knee-high water. Still, the splashing boy played in the salt water, ignoring all the warnings.

The adolescent prandial had sensed the secondary lighter splashing. But as their focus was on their lunch, they both ignored the adult human. They’d committed themselves to the hunt. So, they were going to eat, or be eaten, that was how the animal kingdom worked from their limited perspective.

The larger of the two manic fish reached the child first. The creature ignored the crying defence mechanism of its prey. Which began upon witnessing the lobster fish develop elongated spiderlike legs. Crawling along the rocky beach, and struggling to breathe, the eldest of the two prandial drew close enough to swipe with its pincer. Which barely missed the young boy, and had been the wrong tactic.

The creature had had its opportunity. Now, if it was going to hunt again, it needed to survive. Quickly the eldest of the two hunters, retreated into the safety of the ocean.

The smaller of the two predators had been smarter. Laying in wait until its brother retreated, it was able to judge distance and speed. Which was all it needed. As the fish launched itself from the water, its legs unfolded, and gripped its prey, pulling the miniature human into the ocean. All the prandial perceived was that its prey appeared to submit to its role in the food chain. As it dragged the child deeper into the water, drowning its food before it could be shared amongst the family, its older brother swam around it. The larger Prandial wondered if it should take down the larger human. A call from their parents determined his return. After all, the clams would soon open, and they would be forced to collect the pearls.

On the shores of the beach, life as the Thatcher family knew it had now changed. They were suffering the greatest loss possible, and their family unit had now been reduced. In the animal kingdom this kind of loss would need to be replaced. In the intelligent kingdom, the mother was currently blaming the father. The father was arguing with the mother. The villagers were watching with keen interest. While they all felt the loss of a tribe member.

[Next time on the lifeforms of Caradesance. We will be going to the natural home of the trolls. High in the valleys of the mountains of Mist, where these most interesting intelligent beings are forced into manual labouring roles.]

The Lost Mage

The Lost Mage – One

Caradesance progressed on its course around Heilbronn, whilst it advanced its game of tug with its little sisters, that had now been going on for a few millennia. None of this was even remotely remarkable, although if it wasn’t for the fact all its exo-relatives had life forms; our favourite planet would’ve been a beacon of hope, in what was otherwise only a minor magical universe, no bigger than a nebula. Heilbronn continued to spit waves of adoring heat towards the planet, as it collected the waves with joy whilst turning on the spot, as all worlds do.
A large build up on Heilbronn’s surface fired outwards, which was nothing unusual, and I daresay will happen again in the future. Although any increase in activity was problematic for those living on the surface of our magical world.
The highly infused magical solar wave hit the planet’s upper atmosphere, as those in the Royal Kingdom began waking. As the planet’s magnetic biosphere blocked everything harmful out using its core, the high intense burst of magic collected with the elements and became entangled with the planetary airstream. The planetary flow that already had too much stored within its cycle to stay tranquil, started (what was known to the mages) as a naturally created magically induced cyclone. To everyone without a position working in magical weather studies, or the need to be fancy, it’s more commonly known as a very large storm.
‘Marx!’ Pip screamed whilst trying to stand upright in the storm that had arrived out of nowhere. Trying to call out his friend’s name once more failed, as not a single syllable escaped this time. Normally, a storm mage’s voice (even an apprentice) would’ve carried on the wind. But as Pip screamed out once again, the gusts of the storm took the air out of both lungs. With each passing second, the young mage tried to push towards the treeline whilst the frozen rain pushed back, while the wind pushed him further down to the ground. The gusts became gales sharp enough to cut the skin within a few seconds. Trying to call out to Marx failed, and as blood leaked from several minor cuts, the black sky flashed white three times.
‘No, not now.’ Pip thought. What little magic was within, now struggling harder than before to search the valley. As it slowly began trying to probe the space which surrounded him, every drop from his internal well of magic failed once again to make any connection. Struggling to see inside the storm, after it had caught both lads by surprise, a massive downpour flooded the valley. As the rain fell, sinking mud caused both feet to sink in the mud. The rainfall increased, causing the ground to swallow one leg. As it became almost submerged, the winds started unleashing a pressure of force against his other leg. His entire upper torso then clashed with the gale, pushing him to and fore. Each gust was attacking the lad’s head, which was close to being knocked out by the brute force that caused extensive pain.
While the sky flashed white once more, the rain swiped, causing both cheeks to turn red under the abuse. The constant flashing of lightening caused an unexpected loss of sight, which was only made worse by the increasing elements within the storm. Pip could smell the magic in the air, as it washed down from the mountains of Mist entwined within the forces of nature. As these raw natural magical blasts washed over the soaking young novice, a swift snap in pressure began forcing his throat to close. Although that wasn’t what was now causing a significate amount of fear rising; as everyone knew that anything could happen now.
Pip wasn’t panicking, the lad was becoming almost hysterical. His brain kept crossing at multiple purposes, as all determination now focused on finding a way out of the storm. When a point of escape became visible for a fraction of a nano-second, the sky suddenly flashed bright green, only to be followed by a deep crimson shade.
Suddenly there wasn’t anything to see. The smell of the wet grass was no longer dancing around in the air, all sound had vanished only to be replaced by the everlasting taste of soil. Every single thought that formed told him he was dead; although the young mage could still feel the raw crackling power of the elements.
‘Is this the afterlife?’ No one answered the question. There was no echo either, but as the sound hung close by, a worry kept eating away at what little sanity remained. Everything began after that with only a flash of white which quickly turned into a light pale yellow, before a screaming deep blackness struck outwards causing only psychological pain. Without warning, Pip began feeling sick, which caused a strange calming sensation to course around within. Before a bizarre split-second headache came and went, leaving Pip confused about everything that was currently happening.
The smell of salt snuck up out of nowhere while the bright sun caused dots to form, and the feeling of being bathed in magic stopped without warning. Pip moved about as a strange substance stuck to the layer of wet skin, trying to figure out where he was. As he moved, the small grains caused more confusion to begin a line of thought, that no one wants to go down as a substance strange gets under their wet trousers. The grains of yellow also seemed to gather everywhere, although the lad had now stopped moving about. Although a wave of tiredness rapidly descended before it rushed through his body, forcing each body part to lie in the grains of sand while both eyelids bolted tightly together.



I would first like to thank all those who have taken time out of their lives to read Big City Lanterns and the Prequel. Thank you for your likes and once again for your time, and I do hope you’ve enjoyed what I’ve written, there is more to come. {Which I hope you don’t hate.}

Now I would like to ask some of you/all of you, to take time out of your lives once again to help me. If I can be so rude as to ask for feedback; even criticism in areas where you might notice, I am lacking and need to focus. As anything and everything, which can help me improve in the areas where I need to alter anything at all, will greatly help me as a writer and aspiring author.

Please, it would mean so much to me, if you could donate time and leave your thoughts about anything at all 🙂 {Sorry, we’ll stop begging now.}


Prequel to all

Silence. Or to be more accurately labelled; the absence of words.

{So, I’m guessing that you’re just seeing white?}

{Wow. Okay, so black scribbles on a white background-}

[They aren’t going to see more than that. They live within a different existential crisis to us.]

{I am once again certain that you mean dimension.}

[No, pretty sure I meant what I said.]

{So, if their only seeing scribbles-}

[They call them words, Mister Roge.]

{These letters that they’re seeing, they form as I speak yes?}

[As I have already told you. When you sit in that grand black marble chair, as you are, and touch the red crystal goo within the grooves of the arms, which you are doing, then what you say appears in their dimension on something they call digital paper.]



[Aren’t you going to speak to them then? You did ask me to set all of this up for you.]

{I’m not sure what to say now.}

Followed by an extremely short burst of static…

{What are you doing now?}

[I was just fiddling around with the equipment.]

{Well, don’t…}

{I suppose if I think about it. I should start with who I am and how I got here-}

[That is a story all on its own. Don’t start with something too long. You don’t want them running in the opposite direction. You’re probably scaring them away as it is.]

{Then how would you start it. Once upon a time in a far-off location-}

[That’s from that film they watch on Earth… Oh, damn. You knew that was going to play with my head and begin to annoy me. Damn, damn, damn. What is that bloody series called?]

{Star something. Look help me out here. How do I start this?}

[Well, how about telling them who you are and where we are?]

{Okay, I can do that. My name is Marx Roge senior, and I was a butcher before this. We appear to be inside a pocket of sub-magically-inverted-light which passes through everything and nothing. At this moment in time, we are about the size of a preon, which is smaller than a quark-}

[They might not know what that means.]

{I am going to hit you in a minute.}

[How? I have a body and you don’t. When we explore the facts of your new existence, you need to think about what I gave up for you. Then note that this preon is my new home and you sir, you are in fact only along for the ride. You would do better in this new reality, if you first acknowledge your current situation.]

{So, you’re going back to collecting souls then?}


{You haven’t answered me.}

[And I wasn’t going to. Their observing you, you know.]

{I thought you said it was called reading.}

[Hahaha. And here I am remembering, that you couldn’t even do that simply task before I found you.]

{Yes, I remember. Oh, how the wise and powerful hob-goblin had to teach the country butcher how to read and write. How big you must feel? Bloody narcissist.}

[Do you want to be delivered to Nivrean?]

{I want to breathe again.}

[Ha. Never going to happen and it isn’t even remotely possible. You’re now just energy, which exists within the fourth dimensional meadow that expands throughout the cosmos.]

Deep goblin breathing but no more words followed…

{What are the screens for again?}

[Mmmm. Tell me again why I didn’t deliver you?]

{The screens?}

[Number one is for viewing planets or to be more specific, viewing individuals on any number of habitable worlds across the cosmos. We can also view any time period possible, forwards or backwards. But you already figured that one out when you were watching the Kings of Old.]

{They weren’t as interesting, as I thought they would be.}

[The second screen is for observing Nivrean, so we can make sure they are not searching for us. The third is wired into the CCTV feed from within the home of the many gods, which is mainly just, so we can be noisy. Gods after all can sometimes be enjoyable enough to watch.]

{And the fourth?}

[I was getting to that, Goddess help me. The fourth is not hooked up, but I was going to use it to find signals and watch sports. We just need to get close enough to a nano-singularity, so we can receive what science folk call broadcasts.]

{I am not sure that I want you doing that. It sounds dangerous.}

[No more precarious than our own current situation.]


{Should I tell them about our situation?}

[What, that I ignored the rules of the cosmos. Left my home and job behind, only to have you follow me around. Just so we could wander around the expanse between the atoms, as fugitives of the cosmos.]

{No that we are rebels against death itself.}

[No, we are not. Why did I ever give you your memories back is still beyond me. I could be sipping rash’tan juice on a cosmic beach right now.]

{How are we not?!}

[Because you’re still deceased! You have no physical body, you’re barely a glimmer of your former identity, and all you do is watch Caradesance, as if it was a history program.]

{Well, the planet is interesting to me. What would you be like if you had stayed in the same place all your life? Then along comes your demise and you find out that this new experience you have been given, is a lot bigger than you could ever have imagined. Eh?}

[What you on about now. Your home-world or the cosmos?]

{Both. The way I see it, it goes like this; we don’t need to go into the afterlife. We have this bubble, with a space inside that is immeasurable to the mind-}

[And yet you can touch the walls if you want…]


{Audience, readers, those who like my scribblings, please ignore the hob-goblin. He is the very tip of a male’s sexual reproductive organ, and I was brought up not to use bad language like that!}

[Goddess help me. Where they’re from that isn’t even a form of bad language.]

{And yet, I still feel that it is.}


{So, the reader now knows where we are. Who we both are. How you can be annoying and that I am a spirit in a fourth dimensional shell. What else is there?}

[How about telling them and a doctor of the mind, why you feel the need to begin watching one group of people like a pervert and that you want to tell another group of people, about what the first group are getting up to.]

{It’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be.}

[I think it is.]

Wallop, smack, and kick.

{What you doing now?}

[Trying to watch the serpents play the hawks. But the bloody thing keeps asking me for credit card details.]

{Well, I am Marx Roge and I think that I will leave this introduction here. My assistant, as you can most likely tell, won’t concentrate on doing this today.}

[I am not your assistant. On top of that, I have already bloody well told you that I am not talking into that machine. Just so you can carry on feeling useful.]

Static… Followed by true silence, the kind of silence you heard before the words began to appear…