The Lost Mage

The Lost Mage: Getting Lost – Act Two

The sand that the novice was asleep on covered his entire body.

{Each tiny grain not only managed to get under his clothing, but also clung to areas that are best left unmentioned.}

Whilst the substance coated his red hair with thousands of grains that made him appear blonde. The tide continued to rise as he slept. As the waves crashed against the beach, the water continued to lash the lad’s bare feet. There were piles of driftwood deposited around him. Whereas the waves that still climbed the sands continued to deposit large trunks that were battered by the ocean. Along with smooth straight worn planks from somewhere, the gods only knew.

Pip opened his eyes still dazed, weak and drowsy. As the young mage attempted to regain his sanity, he tried to take in his surroundings. Uninterested in where his boots were, the novice noted the thick jungle behind him. Whilst he watched the calm blue waves roll over the golden beach, he saw the world of wonder that existed around him. Sights that he could only guess no other mage was going to see. And none of it seemed familiar to him.

In the young mage’s head, he was now torn between the beauty of the scenery and a deep desire to be back home. To stroll up the garden path at the start of the weekend, have his mother bake her village famous pie and talk about his studies with his father over the local moonshine.

The young adult wondered if he was in Nivrean, the home of the dead. After all, Pip lived his whole life in the same location. This was the first time observing the ocean. He’d never even left the uplands to go to college. And most people where he came from only talked about the mountains or the enchanted forest.

{People of the Royal Kingdom don’t talk about the ocean. It is simply not the sort of thing to do; it might give others the idea that the ocean is a safe location.}

[Never having left the nine valleys of the Sauw uplands, which sat near the base of the white dwarven owned mountains of Mist. The lad’s simple childhood had seen him raised by his mother and father on their huge potato farm. When he had turned thirteen, his magic had come into being as they called it. So, as was customary, Pip travelled down to the largest valley near the Royal Lowlands to attend the mage’s college in the town of Grafft. The last town on the king’s highway before one entered the mountain passes.]

{Shhh. It’s my time.}

‘Has anyone ever seen this?’ He asked himself as sand began to get into his eyes. Whilst the grains built up, he caused only further irritation as he attempted to wipe them away. Tears swelled up before they began coursing down his face. As the tears cleaned out the sand, Pip struggled with the urge to wipe. He swore from the frustration, but didn’t give in to the desire.

He put his hand over his heart to see if it was still beating. Only to become confused when it did so. His sight became clearer, whilst the novice tried to brush the sand off his arms. As he rubbed though, the movement caused a red friction burn to grow. Pip looked around struggling with his new location as more sand stuck to him. Questions kept forcing themselves to the surface of his mind.

‘Where am I?’ Pip asked the island, but the island didn’t reply to him. As he realised the ocean was almost like a giant bath, he glanced around once more.

The water washed the sand off with relative ease, which caused Pip to dive under the water to make sure he got rid of every grain. He laughed as he did so whilst he began removing his shirt. Which floated away from him along the top of the waves. The temperature felt so pleasant on his skin that he didn’t even notice. And the water was so warm and relaxing that he found it almost calming in a certain respect. But as he bathed in the waters, the warmth eased his muscles. The water reminded him of the underground heated baths in the collage, which made him think of the home once more. Although as Pip paddled around enjoying the water, he noticed there were creatures swimming about near brightly coloured floating plant life,

‘What are these strange creatures?’ He asked the wind whilst the water finished stealing his shirt.

As the sun began to set, Pip decided he needed warmth. Or he would freeze to death. Although that was based on his knowledge of home. Where the nights in the valleys were always bitter and almost relentless, no matter the season.

There was a lot of driftwood littering the beach though, and some of it, Pip found out quickly was days old. So delicate and dry that it began to crumble in his hands as the novice struggled to pick up the pieces. Whilst some of the larger pieces were still fresh and wet.

‘I wonder if Marx managed to get to safety?’ He asked himself as he mused about his friend’s whereabouts. Whilst he wondered what happened to Marx, the young mage dug a hole in the sand near the treeline. After that, he collected stones and arranged them around the hole. Pip gathered himself a collection of dry timber and began to arrange the wood in the crude fire-pit. The young mage’s mind turned to the search for him. How the college professors were most likely still trudging through the valley and digging into the ground,

‘Or they think I’m dead,’ he said to the fire-pit as he stacked a dried log.

Pip saw no way for him to start the fire, as there was no flint laying on the sand. He thought about trying to summon lightening, but he was still too exhausted, and that would have taken more focus than he could muster. Using an old trick his father used to light old hay on fire, he began to gather dried grass. Rubbing a dry stick in the grove of a larger log, Pip began to rub until the wood gave him a slight puff of smoke. With one brief lungful of air, he blew at the dried grass.

It caught alight instantly,

‘Who needs magic?’ He asked the wind, which helped his fire to grow with two abrupt gusts.

Within a second, the fire in the tiny pit was ample enough to provide him warmth as it began to dance in the air. His stomach rumbled as he watched the flames. And his mind wondered about food. Mainly where he could find some. But Pip also knew it was too dangerous to search for food at night. So with only a fire, the lad watched the two moons beginning to travel through the sky as he listened to his stomach. Whilst a tiredness crept over him once more. Although this time it wasn’t from using magic. Or from a magical storm. But was his own body, telling him that he needed more sleep to heal.

When Pip woke it was to the sound of birds squawking. The sun was barely over the horizon, and the rays were warming the sand. The beach had also grown in the night. Whilst the water which receded left a damp area littered with shells, seaweed and driftwood that was crawling with sand worms. Pip looked up at the bulky white birds that were making all the noise. Each bird with their bright yellow beaks flew about showing the underside of their bodies. As he watched them, he noticed the blackish grey under feathers and wondered where the birds slept. Pip laughed as he watched them,

‘I suppose that’s breakfast if I can catch one.’ No one answered him. And as he stood up, all the guls close to him flew off in a flurry.

Pip began striding along the sand whilst he ignored the yellow fruit hanging off the trees. With no idea what they were, his eyes completely missed them. The seaweed was starting to dry out in the sun, and happened to be leaving a smell in the air which told his brain it shouldn’t be eaten. Which again was a mistake.

As sweat began pouring off him, Pip realised he needed hydration. With only one option in sight, the novice scooped up a handful of water from the ocean. He put the liquid close to his lips and began to drink. The taste of salt made him spit it out almost immediately,

‘Goddess, what is that?’ As the lad glanced at the ocean, he wondered once more if he was in Nivrean. Trapped in the afterlife with his body still intact. And he felt glad that when he’d been splashing about that none of the water had gotten into his mouth.

With each step taken, the heat that beat down upon him caused the lad to become slower. Almost sluggish, as he began to drag his feet through the sand. A rumble from his stomach told him that he needed food. But he carried on moving forwards as he hoped to find someone else. Or somewhere he could stay until he found out how to get home. As he strolled along though, sand continued to gather in his leg hairs.

Pip then noticed a small river emerging from the jungle. The clear liquid flowed directly into the ocean after it travelled across the sand. And the water appeared to be inviting him as he stared. Without thought, Pip almost glided across the beach towards the open invitation.

The stream glistened in the afternoon sunlight as the young mage knelt next to the water. Pip tasted it with one finger. Although that was before he then began drinking the liquid by the handful. As he did so, the novice got bits of sand in his mouth. He choked himself, then spluttered, but nothing was going to stop him from the cool relief that the water was providing.

His stomach soon felt full, but the water wasn’t enough to stop the hunger pains. Which his body reminded him about almost immediately as he stood upright. But the pain brought more questions to the forefront of his mind about where he could find food. Whilst questions he didn’t want to answer floated to the surface as well.

The novice decided he needed to follow the river in land in search of people and hopefully food. The trees blocked his sightline as he moved through the cool water though. But since before entering the jungle, they’d towered high above his head anyway. And at that moment, he didn’t care, that he couldn’t determine anything else, as the thick canopy covered the sky. The thick vines which hung almost everywhere told him that this new forest wasn’t like the Enchanted Forest, that he’d heard about while growing up. But since everything seemed new, Pip didn’t know what to do with the information that he was obtaining. Or the lack of.

Whilst Pip continued searching for food, something began to appear between the trees just up ahead. As he scanned them, the novice thought it possible that these grey magical trees were fashioned using stone. Almost excited from a discovery he might be able to work out, Pip began to hurry through the stream. The trees turned out to be a structure of some sort, which caused the young mage to feel surprised as he approached it. The derelict building was sitting in the centre of a clearing that seemed to be losing the battle against the overgrowth. Whilst the building itself looked as if it had already lost most of its battles with the elements.

With a stomach that began to ache once more, Pip’s mind turned back to the search for food. Out of desperation, the young mage pushed the rotten door out of the way. Noticing a floor littered with broken roofing tiles. On his left Pip saw a corridor with two rotten beams, which had fallen in long ago. Both beams in the process had also destroyed the rooms that once existed on either side of the strip. And anything within was now claimed by nature.

Searching around the rear of the building, Pip noticed two half rotted posts sticking up from the soil. In an area which must have once been cared for at some point, the plants within seemed to the lad to be laid out in rows, but were overgrown with tall grass and weeds.

He began to kick away the tall weeds; foraging for vegetables that might have been growing within the ground. With some heavy kicks, time and patience, the novice soon found some sort of brownish orange potato, a few purple carrots and a teeny hidden bush that contained what he hoped at the time were edible berries.

‘At least I have food,’ he said as he glanced around the clearing. As he looked about, he wondered,

‘What happened to the people who obviously once lived here.’

Lifeforms of Caradesance

The lifeforms of Caradesance – Humans


An empty page.

The absence of words.

The sound of someone being slapped. A trivial muffled argument began between two comrades. Which was followed by yet another slap. Both goblin and fourth dimensional butcher had been forced together by circumstance-

[Get out of the chair and stop writing!]


[I’ve had enough of you.]

The goblin slapped the butcher once more. The hand collided with his face, leaving behind a dull ache. The goblin flexed his physique, as he prepared to lash out once more-

[Stop writing and step out of the chair.]

The goblin whacked the defenceless butcher. Vin tried to rip both submerged hands from the red crystalline goop.

{Which forms the words you’re reading, by a means of goblin magical technology, and some heavy amounts of thick black builders-tape.}

Mister Roge struggled-

[I am Vin Attorn, and I was once a hob-goblin of the slowest order. Now I am but a humble goblin watcher of time and space. As we travel together through the multi-dimensional universe, I once more return to the most backwards planet in the whole cosmos.]

Pause. The sound of rustling as something metallic is thrown away. The crunching sound of fried potato slices.

[Sorry. I hadn’t yet eaten my breakfast.]

Pausing once again.

Complaining in the background.

I lash out for the sake of quietness. Glad that I did so.

[Today, we are going to start our journey on the continent of Britstana. Where life is a little less primitive, and has been roughly moving forward at the pace of a giant space turtle. So I would like you to sit back and relax. As I take you on a tour of the so-called intelligent races of Caradesance, with me Vin Attorn.]

[In what I’m calling the lifeforms of Caradesance.]

We are beginning our journey at the seaside. A beach that is between two large cliffs of volcanic stone. Ocean worn pebbles and rocks, scatter the half a mile long local resort in large round or ragged black stone. Whilst a bank which leads up to the village has the most splendid summer flowers. Causing those walking down to the rocks to sneeze.

The mid-day sun is high in the sky. Which is bringing the almost hairless homo sapiens out of their crude round stone buildings. Like many intelligent beings across the multi-verse, these hairless apes tend to live in family groups. Finding a strange comfort in conforming to hierarchal obligations, that they tend not to share around.

[In the animal kingdom an important factor to life is would be predators. Forming large packs or herds discourages these hunters. Keeping not only kin alive but allows larger amounts genetic information to be past along, and allows for greater numbers of sustenance to be found.]

[Humanity has over the course of its evolution developed away from the herd mentality. Forming a stronger family bond than others of the animal kingdom. Although their bond only keeps its own members safe, whilst ignoring those outside the group, unless it’s to their obligations.]

[This animal desire to stay safe is what holds the Thatcher family together subconsciously. As they live along the north-eastern coastline in the small village of Nix. Their names for the record are Mic and Debra Thatcher. Both mother and father Thatcher have three children by the names of, Derk, Din, and Darren. Other than that, nothing else about them is in fact important. They’re but a grain of sand amongst billions.]

Their children, like every other red-haired child on the rocks, are throwing small stones into the water. Deb, screaming at them all to stop behaving like fools, is still standing on the costal walkway off the rocks just before the bank amongst a collection of mothers. Unpacking food from a straw basket, Mr. Thatcher, with a smile on his face, took a sip of local ale from his tankard whilst sat on the pier laughing with the other fathers.

[As we watch the beachgoers, I must note that while nothing can hurt our humans whilst they are on land. There are things which lurk in the water that shouldn’t be so easily forgotten about. And I am not just on about the undercurrents.]

Laying beyond the rocky beaches out in deeper water are four large manic prandial fish. Swimming around their children, the adults are following the vibrations in the water. Slow-moving underwater patterns which allow them to find their food, and are given off by anything in the water.

[Named after their sweet, tasty, highly sugared flesh, and their obsessive collective nature. These fish 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, an adult prandial is the deadliest hunter of the ocean.]

This collection of manic prandial is also a family unit. As they glide through the water they’re searching for schools of tuna. Having been brought close to the shore by new vibrations in the water. The adults are still unsure about the situation. Thus mother, and father prandial, are keeping their two young close to them. Swimming circles around them whilst they sniff the water currents.

A splash happens at the edge of the water moving outwards, the pattern that reaches them only takes a few seconds for them to register. Knowing that it’s different from the inconstant vibrations they’d been following, all the members of the family unit begin to slowly move towards the shore.

They smell their dinner option as an underwater scent reaches them. This new scent to the younger members is a pleasant surprise. An opportunity for the younger prandial to eat meat that they class as rare.

[And this is something neither of them can pass on.]

The two juvenile prandial do not wait for permission. Both shoot off through the water, as fast as their immature fins let them.

[To live and to eat to the prandial are the same thing. They have permission to live, so they have the right to hunt. And hunt they will do.]

[And that internal nature of the magical not-a-fish, is what has kept them alive throughout the ages. Each armoured fish is born knowing that they must eat, need to swim, and must give-in to the urge of mating, so that they can survive.]

With a speed that would beat the extinct moor-panther, the younger two-foot-long animals begin swimming towards their prey gaining speed. Within moments, they’re close.

[No one has spotted them.]

Derk, the youngest Thatcher child, was playing in the water. Being only six-years-old, the smallest child is ignoring what the adults have always told him about the ocean.

Because he now knows his brothers are no longer paying him any attention, after glancing at them. The child walks a little further into the swallows to splash around some more. Derk’s grin widens, as he begins to enjoy his day at the beach. The small child playing didn’t understand what all the fuss was about.

[The fuss though is about to become apparent to Derk.]

He hears screaming from his mother, who is now running towards him almost tripping on the rocks. Waving back, the child continues to splash in the water. His father jumps off the pier, and begins running through the knee-high water, ignoring all danger to himself. Still, the boy, splashing in the salt water, is ignoring all the warning signs.

Both adolescent prandial could feel the secondary lighter vibrations travelling through the water. But their focus is on lunch. Because they’ve committed themselves to this hunt, nature takes over.

[It is now, hunt, or stave. That is how the animal kingdom works from their limited perspective.]

The larger of the two glides out in front, jumping at the child the first chance it gets.

[If you were to observe this in slow motion, then you would see twenty thin legs unfolding out of the very skin of the creature. Alas, there is no way to show you this. And it does happen quite fast.]

The creature, ignoring the crying defence mechanism of its prey, draws closer on its elongated, spiderlike legs. Crawling along the rocky beach, and struggling to breathe, the eldest of the two prandial is now close enough to swipe with its larger pincer.

[It barely misses the young boy, but whilst the animal knows it has used the wrong tactic. The creature knows also that it must now retreat. That is if it wants to hunt again. Every cell in its aquatic lungs is now screaming that it must hurry back into the water.]

The smaller of the two predators waits until its brother is in full retreat.

[It uses its siblings’ failed attempt. Noting distance and speed. Which is all the animal needs.]

The fish launches itself from the water with all twenty legs unfolding. One second is all it takes, for the prandial youth to begin pulling the miniature human into the ocean. As it does so, the fish knows nothing of the rocks which are bouncing off its armour. All the prandial perceives is that the prey appears to give itself over without a fight. Dragging the child deeper into the water, the fish begins to drown its food before the family shares in the hunt.

[Whilst on the shores of the beach, life is now changing for the family. They are suffering the greatest loss possible in the circle of life, and they must adjust to this new reality.]

[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.]

Laying beyond the rocky beaches out in deeper water are four large manic prandial fish. Swimming around their children, the adults are following the vibrations in the water. Slow-moving underwater patterns which allow them to find their food, and are given off by anything in the water.

The Lost Mage

The Lost Mage: Getting Lost – Act One

Caradesance progressed on its course around Heilbronn, whilst it played tug with its little sisters. A recreation that had been going on for a few millennia. None of this though was even remotely remarkable in the grand cosmic scheme of things.

{But planets do what planets do, who are we to argue with their way of life.}

Although if it wasn’t for the fact that all the world’s exo-relatives contained lifeforms as well, then our favourite planet would have 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 Caradesance collected the waves with joy, it kept on turning. A huge elemental plasma blast built up on Heilbronn’s surface. And out of nowhere, the magically charged sun constructed of plasma fired the energy outward.

The highly infused waves struck the planet’s upper atmosphere as the citizens of the Royal Kingdom opened their eyes. The planet’s magnetic biosphere blocked everything harmful out, whilst the high intense burst of magic collected within the planet’s four natural elements. As they became entangled with the planetary airstream first, the winds caused the trees to sway. The elemental flow, which already stored too much within its cycle, could not stay tranquil. And as such, this extra pressure on the air system started a natural magical cyclone which quickly swept down from the mountains.

‘Marx!’ Pip screamed whilst he struggled to stand upright in the meadow. The winds, which had arrived out of nowhere, had collected Marx with a violent force, sending his only friend high into the air.

As he was now left standing alone, unable to escape the onslaught of nature, Pip tried to look around himself. Each flurry of wind that rolled down the black rock of the mountains concealed the trees with a thick mist, which blinded Pip. And caused him to lose sight of where his friend could have fallen. Although Pip struggled to forget about his friend’s situation for a split-second, and sought to cover his own head from the pebbles being thrown at him by the angry gusts.

Pip called out his friend’s name once more, but as he did so, not a single syllable escaped. A storm mage’s voice, even a journeyman’s, would normally have been carried on the wind. But as the novice tried to call out once again, his face turned a shade of purple from the effort. Gusts of sharp winds then took the air out of his lungs, which caused him to choke and splutter as he struggled to breathe.

With each second that passed, the young mage tried to push towards the treeline, barely able to see the dark silhouettes that were comprised of trunks and leafs. A frozen rain began to pour and quickly drenched his red hair. The large droplets pelted his flax blue shirt and blue kilt as they soaked him.

Whilst a strong wind pushed him further down to the ground, his boots already filled with water became caked with mud. And as the gusts became violent gales sharp enough to cut his skin within a few seconds the lad tried to call out to Marx once more. Although blood leaked from several minor cuts as the black sky flashed white three times. The flashes lit up the mage’s green eyes. And caused the mist to become a deeper shade of black as the elements of magic mixed in the air.

‘No, not now,’ Pip thought as he watched the sky with a morbid fascination.

What little magic was within him struggled harder than before to search the valley. As it slowly did so, every muscle in his body vibrated from his use of the spell. Every drop from his internal well of magic bled dry with repeated use. Whilst Marx was still out there and likely injured, which for some reason caused Pip to cry out in panic.

Another massive downpour began in less than a second and saturated the ground. As the rain fell, both his feet sank in the mud and the novice struggled to get free. The ground swallowed his one leg in the struggle. And as it became almost fully submerged, the winds unleashed a pressure of force against his back. His entire upper torso then clashed with another gale which began to push him to and fro. Panic rose in his throat. Fear gripped his stomach, and as it did so, it released a flutter of butterflies which began to fly around within.

Each gust that attacked the lad caused extensive pain to his hip joint. However young Pip felt even more fearful, his leg twisted and began to cause him to scream silently to the storm. And as further gusts beat him, he began to wish that he was safely back in the college behind his books.

The sky flashed white once more, whilst the rain swiped at the novice. With each gust, both his cheeks became red from the abuse. The constant flashes of lightening caused him to unexpectedly go blind. The shadows of the trees were replaced by thick black lines. Pip could smell the magic in the air; a strong aroma of grass and ozone, which also assaulted him. Even though it was a sweet, almost metallic scent which calmed him at the same time. Although the smell as it washed down from the mountains of Mist entwined within the elemental forces of nature. And these raw natural magical blasts as they washed over the soaked young novice caused him cry.

The pressure snapped around him, and the air sucked his leg out of the ground. With his boot freed, Pip’s brain began to cross at multiple purposes. All his determination was focused on finding a way out of the storm. His escape became visible for a fraction of a nano-second whilst the sky flashed once more. The sky suddenly flashed a bright green. Only to be followed by a deep crimson shade, which Pip wasn’t able to appreciate as he was thrust high into the air.

All of a sudden there wasn’t anything to grasp. The smell of the wet grass no longer danced around him, and all sound vanished. Even the ringing in his ears. Each thought that then formed told him he was dead. Although the young mage could still feel the raw natural power of the elements on his skin.

{Weightlessness. It was all Pip could discern.}

A voice followed the feeling of pins and needles on his skin. The voice didn’t enter through his ears though, but still left his lips,

‘Is this the afterlife?’ No one answered the question or gave him any response. But Pip felt safe and sound, as if his mother was holding him.

A deep blackness smacked him in his face. The colour left him with a headache and confusion. But without warning, the novice began to feel sick. Which caused a strange sensation to form within his throat. Before a bizarre drilling pain happened in his right ear and left through the other. Pip felt confused about everything currently happening as his internal thoughts continued to scream.

The blackness then hit him again.

The stench of salt snuck up out of nowhere. The novice moved about blindly as a strange substance stuck to his wet face. Even more of the tiny grains gathered as he tried to rub. The young mage stopped moving about as a wave of tiredness rapidly descended through his body. The feeling forced him to collapse into the sand, whilst both his eyelids fastened closed.


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 they’re 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 type of silence you heard before the words began to appear…