White/Blue – Underneath

The Gentleman of the boxes

Though the perpetual snow covered everyone and everything in a magical flurry, some homes escaped the gingerbread icing of the winter dusting. Though treacherous at times, the snow that fell in the area of Ravensbrook was mostly welcomed. The small village itself was well known for its snow festivals which would be held often during the year. While the borders of the county were at the whim of the regular weather patterns, Ravensbrook enjoyed the snowfall of the mountain passes more than the tropics of the equator. But not everyone was happy with the snow, and one in particular made sure to be out of it as much as they could.

He had once had a large cabin on the other side of the woods which backed on to the small cottage by the stream. His was a stern roughly built cabin, reeking of ash fires and masculinity. It’s coarsely built structure was a testament of his own strength, having built the place himself. But it did not appeal to the eye, and was poorly landscaped. Fresh animal kills were strewn around, the bones of which would be stacked sometimes by an outhouses.  He lived there alone, stuffing small woodland animals with sawdust and brooding over a life that was slipping away from him. That is to say, lived there, for now the gentlemen of the boxes lived underground.

One day, on a particularly snowy afternoon whilst trudging back to his cabin, he’d stopped with his fresh kill slung over his shoulders. The snow had covered his face and was blotting out the view of the track he was following home. He’d stood there, a human snowman for much longer than an idle man should in the cold snow, thinking and pondering and wondering over the incessant weather. Raising his fist in the air, he cursed the sky and the lady who lived in that small little cottage; telling tales and playing god.

He stormed home, and packed the few possession he could into a duffle bag and set off into the depths of the woods. Thick in thorns and thistles, the snow drifts piled high in the dark and gloomy woodland. But soon enough, he’d found what he was looking for. A small opening in the ground marked by two huge boulders which led down underneath the earth. He’d found this long ago, chasing a fox that had sought shelter from his murderous hands. The opening expanded deep underground, a vast cave backed up with many little recesses built into the earth. Here he intended to live, and be away from that infernal snow and cold which stung his bones.

Over time, his little cave house filled with things and skeletons. The shells of the creatures that he didn’t keep in his boxes. He would stuff them with sawdust and set them into little boxes and crates, depending on the size. He would mark them all and catalogue what he had. In his noahistic mind, he would covert two of each creature, stripping one of the fleshy outtings where he could peak at the ivory bones underneath, and stuff and box the other. His collection grew in time, and much of his cave was taken over by the boxes that he would stack high to the ceiling.

One day, when he was in town selling some animal meet, he happened to notice the traveling cart man who’d stopped in the small village square. The man would peddle, in all weathers, around the villages with a huge caravan of objects pushed and slotted onto the back of his trailer. This travelling circus of curiosities was much welcomed where it went, for he was always known to bring treasures and wonders to their little part of the world. The gentlemen of the boxes never usually bothered himself with that sort of thing, but something that day seemed to call to him, picking at his mind and heart. He’d trundled over to the cart, impossibly piled high that day with brass lamps, copper kettles, crystal glasses and books. One book in particular stood out to him, a purple bound one the size of a bible. He slid it out from between a jewellery box and iron fire grate and looked at the cover.

The image on the front was nothing new to him, he’d seen the real thing a hundred times, but the way it was drawn unsettled something inside him. Dislodging some idleness and bringing forth some action. The skull of a creature, that of a deer, stared back at him. The eye sockets glowing with a purple-ish flame tickled the hairs on the back of his neck. He’d just begun to open the book when the seller called over him.

“Ah, I see you’re interested in the Lunamaji.” He came around the side of the cart and up to the man.

“Maybe. How much for the book?” He replied, gruffly.

“Ten Quartz to you good sir, anyone interested in such deep allurement deserves to get a good price.” The man held out his hand as some small glass coins tumbled into them. The gentlemen of the boxes huffed, thinking it was still too much for a book. But then, it held something he couldn’t explain, some pull or hold on him somehow. He had to have it, so he paid the small price. As he turned to walk away, the old man grabbed at his arm suddenly.

“Be warned though, this is not for the faint of heart or weak of conscience. There are many things in there that need to remain within those pages, and just to reside in the mind.” He’d said, hastening a smile to take the edge off his warning.

“Nothing about me has ever been weak.” The man replied, and stormed off with the book under his arm.


He’d consumed the book. Reading it hurriedly in the candlelight of his cave. He’d read it once through and went straight back to the beginning to read it again. Days passed and he’d not emerged from his cave, breaking his concentration only to hydrate and use the bathroom. The words and the knowledge mesmerised him. He’d never been one for books before. He thought stories and fables were just things to tell children before they went to bed. He’d seen the kids from the village, hurrying to that little house by the stream to sit and listen to tales and wonders. Foolish kids. They should be out working, doing, playing, being. Not stuck inside listen to yarns that only take place in the mind.

But this book was different. This book showed him a way to be that was not fiction. These things he was reading told him how he could change his life for the better. How he could master the weather himself, make the wind blow the direction he wanted it to. To even stop death, and bring the things he wanted back to life.

But there was a cost to be paid, like there always was.

He was smart enough to know a warning when he saw it, and the book was riddled with them. And he wasn’t foolish enough not to heed this warnings either. He practised in secret, squirreled away underground. Little things at first, then moving on to larger and more completed things. He left his body many times, if not his cave, and before long he was very knowledgeable about the ways of Lunamaji and where it all could take him. But the power that he craved at first, shifted and changed. At first he’d wanted to see if the magic worked, to see if reading something could arouse a change in the very set up of the earth. To play god himself. But he soon learned, much to the cart seller’s warning, that it could consume and cause havoc. He didn’t want that. He wasn’t an evil soul, merely bitter by the hand life had dealt him. He changed his mind, as so many do, and instead sought out the one thing he knew the book could help him with. Aside from stopping the damn snow.

And that one thing had fallen from the sky that very morning.

To be continued…



White/Blue Read the ongoing story here


18 thoughts on “White/Blue – Underneath

  1. the story gets more intricate and the web widens to include a mysterious gentleman. I like his sullenness and assertiveness. Makes me wonder what all those animal bones are for. Oh how he detests that lady of the jars and her winter spells. I am enjoying this new addition, he is full of character. that is a powerful book, I can feel it’s magic.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I love this made up magic word Lunamaji.
    And ya it is really interesting with this third character. He reminds me of an old bitter rabbit hiding and collecting in his warren.
    Now I’m on edge to find out how the girl from the sky will help him change for the best version of himself. Really enjoying this creativity in these stories.


  3. A cruel, heartless taxidermist… poor little creatures… oh that hobby… sends shivers down my spine. Here comes the villain I thought to myself… and then no! He is no villain!? Maybe villains never mean to be villains. It is always more intricate than that. Your tale keeps me guessing. I am loving every bite of it. It is surprising and original. That Lunamaji book feels like it holds forbidden magic – powerful and all consuming. What a mesmerising tale, M.! I am impressed.


    • That’s exactly the approach i wanted for him. Villains are people who have usually lost their way, and stumbled on the wrong road, but perhaps still eager to find the way back. Everyone has the possibility to turn their own world around in the moment, he might just need to loose everything to see that by the end. Thank you so much for reading, and enjoying. I confess, i’m terrible at the moment of reading other’s work in depth, but i will deep dive into your magical world of wonder shortly…so stand by for comments, likes and eagerness!

      Liked by 1 person

      • I am eager to see how you develop that character! Your take on villainy is very refreshing.

        Nul besoin de me remercier. C’est un pur plaisir de te lire, toujours, et cette série est un vrai délice pour les yeux, l’esprit et le coeur. Tout le plaisir est pour moi! Vraiment!

        No need to apologise. You are bringing gems into the world and I am so grateful for the entertainment. You can’t be reading everything.

        Besides you haven’t missed much on my blog. I don’t publish all of my stories on it. I keep my favourite ones hidden in secret computer files hoping they will end up cushioned in hardcovers with a Bloomsbury stamp in a bookstore some day ^^

        I have been writing lots of lyrics, which I only share when I have a rough idea of how they are going to sound. So yeah not much missed… though I am looking forward to seeing your likes pop up and reading your eager comments when you will feel like voyaging to my universe.

        Meanwhile, it is a pleasure catching up with you and your world.


      • Good to keep a few gems hidden away [i used to work at Bloomsbury 😉 ]. I will head over and read your things this evening, need a break and some desserts for my mind. The likes will be in heavy supply i’m sure.

        Liked by 1 person

      • Hidden treasures add texture 😉 They keep things interesting. You seem to have plenty of those treasures hidden away in your professional career! Bloomsbury! This is a dream! How was it working there? I have so many questions, I am thinking we should exchange e-mails or something or your comment section is gonna be invaded.
        Your delicious words make me smile. This is the best compliment ever, my words consumed as desserts ❤ Thank you for that.


      • Amazing! Get ready to receive mail soon 🙂 That may or may not diminish the length of my comments. I can’t help but respond to your magical words with a lot of passion.


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