Veil Between (Part 5)

On May 12, 2026March 31, 2026 By kyndarisLeave a comment

Although times feel dire, the world, as we know it, keeps spinning. Meanwhile, at time of writing up this post, I am nearing the end of my latest horror short story even as I work on editing my main work: Sarenhart – a Snow White retelling.

But I know the hard part is what comes next. Whether or not I find an agent and/ or a publisher so I can have it in actual print. The idea of actually showing one of my pet projects to strangers and having it judged for how worthy it is to be an actual book, though, is completely terrifying. And yet, if I want to BE an author, it’s a step I’ll need to take. Unless I self-publish and then do my own marketing and whatever else that goes into actual becoming a household name.

Meanwhile, the new game I’ve been plugging hours away has been Metaphor: ReFantazio. While I would like to have a post on it as soon as possible, it IS a Japanese role-playing game. And given my track record with such games, it’s going to take a good long while before I can finish. Still, I doubt it’s going to take me 150 hours. From what I can see, it might be in the ballpark of 80 to 90 hours. Still a lengthy chunk of time but not quite as long as other titles.

But back to my latest horror short story! I’m not sure if I want to publish it for free on the internet. I’ve really liked how it’s panning out and a part of me wants to see if I could submit it for possible competitions or have it serve as the main piece to an anthology series.

That said, the same issues apply. How best to be ‘discovered’ by a traditional publishing house? As I ponder these existential questions, please enjoy the next part of Veil Between!

Looking up at the British Colonial house, I couldn’t quite fathom how my life had changed over the course of two months. Though I had tenure at the university in which I taught, my extended absence had been remarked upon by many of my colleagues. The excuses I’d provided, looked on with suspicion.

If only they knew the truth.

But, of course, none had pressed too hard. Or dug too deep.

Mike might have described me as the rising star of the anthropology department but I had few allies amongst the faculty. Many of the stuffy professors, who had been there since the turn of the millennium, had looked on with jealousy at my published papers. The years had calcified them. Turning them rigid and traditional. And none of them had picked up a pen to write anything of note beyond a grade on each students’ paper.

I suppose it was easier that way.

There was no one to question, really, my state of mind. Beyond my mother and a couple of my closest friends back home. Yet even they could not understand the grief that fuelled my determination though they still made sure to check in every few days or so.

None of them knew, of course, about the worlds beyond our own. Or of the supernatural beings trying to infiltrate our world. My mother, especially, would have remained unfazed if an eldritch god clawed its way out of her TV. She might have, of course, given them a stern scolding before demanding they fix what they’d broken.

“You ready, Jordie dear?” asked Patrice as she hooked my arm with her own and leaned in close, pulling me free from my reverie. With her free hand, she patted my shoulder. “It’s not too late, you know, if you’re getting cold feet.”

I swallowed against the lump in my throat. “We’ve come this far. And I’ve already asked so much of everyone.”

“None of us would judge you.”

“But I would,” I said. And in my bones, I knew I spoke truth.

Summer was fast approaching but I felt like I was still trapped still in the last month of winter. Everything inside me was cold. Frozen over. Like time had stood still when Mike had been ruthlessly torn away from me.

And though I’d made my peace with the fact Mike might no longer be alive, I needed to know for certain.

To see it with my own eyes.

A door to the side swung open. Framed against the light stood Adeline. Instead of the grey pantsuit she had worn when we had first met, she was dressed more casually than I’d ever seen her.

She wore a light blue denim shirt, sleeves rolled up to her elbows. They matched nicely with white skinny jeans. Separated only by a gaudy belt with a butterfly buckle. “Rachel and I have completed the preliminary preparations,” she said as soon as we joined her. “Admittedly, the piglet was hard to find. Especially one that fit Copernicus’s exact requirements. A three-month-old babe with a dark spot on their left ear and a tail as straight as an arrow?” Adeline shook her head. “If it hadn’t been for Rachel, I don’t know what I would have done.”

“I’m sure you would have figured something out. A clever girl like you.”

We followed the narrow passageway until we reached the door leading into the kitchen. Inside sat sacks of rosemary and sage along with crates filled with pure iron. Over in the corner sat a five-by-five box. Stamped on one side were the words: Fragile. This way up.

Adeline, as she had promised, had pulled a few strings and brought in a shipment of obsidian daggers. How she had done it, I couldn’t say. And I was a little terrified of what her answer might have been.

There were some things, I was coming to learn, that were better left a mystery.

But the obsidian was something Copernicus had insisted upon. Supposedly, it was able to absorb negativity, which made it a crucial component in the ritual we would be undertaking at midnight.

“You’ve a talented assistant in that Rachel of yours,” said Patrice, letting out a low whistle. It was her first attempt at praise I’d seen. At least when it came to Adeline’s no-nonsense PA.

Adeline smiled. “She’s been a complete and utter lifesaver,” she said. “Doesn’t ask questions and gets everything I request done.”

“The two of you seem awfully close.” Apprehension filled my gut. I could see where this was going and I did not like it one bit. There were far better ways to ask such personal questions. But I knew Patrice wasn’t one to listen. She just barrelled through life without rhyme or reason.

“Oh, we are. She’s my best friend.”

Nodding sagely, Patrice, keeping her tone mild, said, “Don’t you feel it might impinge on your professional relationship, though?”

A part of me wanted to smash my head against a wall. Another wanted to throttle Patrice in her sleep. In the end, all that managed to slip out was: “Though it’s none of my business, I don’t think this kind of talk is very appropriate. Don’t you think so—”

“Oh, well, there’s no real worry there,” said Adeline, cutting me off. “Rachel’s married and I—Well, I’m seeing someone.”

“A shame,” said Patrice.

Before she could say anything further, Rachel walked in, her high-heel boots clacking against the tiles of the kitchen. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a bun, not a strand out of place. The clothes she wore were the epitome of corporate efficiency. There was a severe look to her face as she glanced up from the clipboard in her hands.

“Good. You’re here.” She turned to Adeline. “According to the notes provided by Mr Holland, we will need to complete the purifying ritual an hour prior. I have ensured everything is ready but I wanted to check in with you that there’s nothing amiss. The threat of disembowelment from an invisible monster notwithstanding.”

“Oh, don’t you mind that. Copernicus has the situation well in hand.”

Rachel arched a curated eyebrow. “You mean the Words of Power he used to keep the monster contained.” It was a statement, not a question. “Admittedly, I was surprised to see none had come to harm over the last few months. I’d initially assumed it was due to our competent containment and management of the property. But perhaps there was more to it than meets the eye.”

Patrice sniffed. “The fact you doubt his ability only goes to show how little you truly understand the nature of the world we live in. Give it time. We’re all living in a horror story. One none can ever escape from,” she said. “Death ain’t a new adventure. It’s the end.”

Silence hung heavy in the air around us. Both Adeline and Patrice exchanged a pointed look while I tried my best to look anywhere but at the Scotswoman.

What was there to say?

Though her words rang with truth, even I was reluctant to acknowledge them. Nobody wanted to reckon with their mortality when it was so bluntly put before them. Especially when they were young and the future seemed limitless. It was easier to push it to the back of one’s mind and think only of the next TV show to watch; the next greasy burger liable to give us heart attack.

We were saved from a response by the appearance of Copernicus.

Unlike his rather bedraggled appearance when Patrice and I had found him in some derelict part of Detroit, he had returned to his suave attire from our first meeting. His pepper had been slicked back and he was wearing a dark navy suit. One he’d rented from a local store just up the street. It fit him like a glove, giving him an air of power and authority.

He smiled at us in a manner I could only describe as benign paternalism. Despite the time I’d spent with him over the last two months, it still irked me to see it.

There was always something theatrical with Copernicus. One last trick he would pull out of his sleeve at the last moment. Or a secret he would keep because he felt there was no need to divulge it until just the right moment.

I despised this little tic of his. But every time I raised it with Patrice, she’d dismissed it as jealousy.

With remarkable skill, he herded us out of the kitchen and into the familiar foyer I still saw in my dreams. There was the grand staircase leading up to the second floor, the wooden banister polished to a smooth shine. To the sides sat the low coffee table where I’d first met Copernicus working his magic through the medium of tarot. And next to it was the couch where Patrice and I had become acquainted.

It all felt a little nostalgic. In spite of how future events would pan out.

But where once Copernicus’s tarot cards had cluttered up the coffee table, there now rested a silver tray with six wineglasses filled to the brim with a red liquid. Next to them was a plate of freshly baked cookies. They looked to be either chocolate chip or raisins.

If death did not lurk right next to us, it would have been easy to believe our gathering here was something else altogether. A baby shower, maybe, or a reunion between an eclectic group of friends. Anything but the truth of the matter.

I nodded to the wineglasses. “Who’s the extra one for?” I asked.

The corner of Copernicus’s lips curled upwards. “How very astute of you, Mr Brookstone,” he said. “The last is for our remaining guest. Madam Xanthe.” As he said her name, there was a knock at the door. He stepped over to greet the fortune teller, dressed once more in her outrageous outfit. “Welcome. I’m so glad you agreed to attend.”

Maria scanned the foyer, her gaze alighting briefly on me and Patrice. “And leave you all in the lurch? Never. As you very well know, this is my bread and butter.”

“I’m afraid, Madam Xanthe, the ritual we will be performing today will be unlike anything you’ve done before. It will take all the grit we have to pull it off. And with your aid – your ability to touch the unknown – success will be within our grasp.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Maria answered with a gentle smile. She motioned down the hallway. “Shall we?”

“Of course,” answered Copernicus. “Ah, but I should inform you we’ve still yet to chart the protection circles. I also wanted to discuss a few other matters. If you would indulge me?”

Maria touched Copernicus’s offered arm. “Certainly.”

The two of them vanished into a side room and shut the door behind them. Left with the others, I stepped over to the coffee table and picked up one of the cookies. After sniffing it for anything untoward, I gave it a test bite.

As I chewed on the first, then the second, Patrice took up a seat on the soft leather couch. From her bag, she pulled out her knitting project (now almost complete) and began to work. Adeline and Rachel also took to milling around near us, their conversation revolving on extraneous meetings and impossible deadlines.

Minutes passed before the door opened. Maria was the first to leave. Copernicus followed on her heels.

Where once there had been something jovial and friendly in the air between them, there now seemed to be brewing tension. When I glanced over towards Copernicus, now on my fourth cookie, I could see the gathering storm writ clear on his face before he smoothed it into a mask of genteel and unruffled indifference.

He looked round at us and clapped his hand together. All heads turned towards him. Patrice even set her knitting back into her bag.

“My friends,” said Copernicus, “thank you for all coming. I know we had all agreed to put the events of two months ago behind us. But when Mr Brookstone here, reached out to me, I could not help but pity his plight. Today, we look to rectify the wrong inflicted upon him. In so doing, we seek to banish this eldritch creature stalking the halls of this very house back to its hellish domain. In so doing, we hope to return a lost soul taken from our midst.”

There was a smattering of applause. Mostly from Patrice.

Copernicus, it had to be said, was a natural orator. If he had not chosen to pursue mediumship and ghosts for an occupation, I could have seen him as a charismatic cult leader. Or a motivational speaker. Maybe, if he had played his cards right, he could even have been a billionaire CEO.

“Admittedly, what I ask each of you present here today will not be an easy task. Nevertheless, I ask you to place your faith, and trust, in me. Now, if you would, I would like to propose a toast.”

One by one, we each took one of the prepared drinks. And, after he had exchanged a few more empty platitudes, we all drank deep of the red liquid.

There was something floral and heady about it. Unlike anything I tasted. And it was viscous. This was no wine. Worse, it seemed to burn as it made its way down my throat.

I looked over at the others, a grimace on my face, to see their reactions.

Patrice and Copernicus looked unruffled. Red was smeared across their lips but they paid it no mind as they took another hearty gulp. Adeline and Rachel, on the other hand, had somewhat queasy expressions on their faces. Their next taste was a tentative sip.

Only Maria looked out of sorts as she downed the contents of the wineglass as quickly as possible. She put it back on the tray and immediately picked up one of the two remaining cookies. She bit into it with gusto, colour returning to her cheeks.

Once we had all finished, Copernicus directed us to what might have once been a ballroom. White Ionic columns matched the white walls. Hanging from the middle of it all was a huge crystal chandelier. Intricate cornices, gilded with gold, further emphasised the inherent wealth of the Favershams. To heighten the size of it all, reflective mirrors sat at the far end.

As we entered, I stared at it all with something akin to awe. It was only after a few moments of shameless gawking that I noticed the tables and chairs pushed to the side. In their place was an intricate protection circle marked with chalk. At its centre was the piglet. Dead. Its blood drained into a bowl set next to it.

Bile raced up my throat. Hand pressed against my mouth, I looked away and fought the urge to heave up my lunch. Rachel and Maria looked like they were in a similar state once I’d managed to take several calming breaths.

Wiping the side of her mouth with the sleeve of her ironed blouse, Rachel nodded towards the piglet. “I see you’ve wasted no time.”

“In order to keep its potency,” replied Copernicus. “I’ve already begun to write down the necessary runes though I’ll need some help if we want to have it finished on time.” He turned to Patrice and Maria. “I’m hoping the two of you will be able to…” He trailed off, leaving the request open-ended.

Patrice jumped in with gusto. “Of course. It’ll be child’s play.” Playfully, she nudged the fortune teller’s elbow. “Right Maria? Or do you prefer Madam Xanthe when it comes to encounters with the unknown?”

The look on Maria’s face was something between a grimace and an attempt at good humour. “Yes, yes. I couldn’t be happier to provide any assistance I can.”

The words were saccharine. An empty platitude to appease.

And it made me uneasy.

There was something else going on. What it might be, I could not guess. But I knew Copernicus had a hand in it. Possibly Patrice too. Though she did have a habit of playing along with suggestions from handsome men. She said it was her one weakness now that she was widowed and no longer had her darling Greg to keep her in check.

And, given what I knew about Maria, I could see she was certainly out of her comfort zone. All this talk about rituals was, in her words, ‘above her pay grade.’

But she certainly knew how to keep up the façade.

Whatever game Copernicus was playing, she was, in my opinion, just as unwilling a player as I was.

Lavender Haze

On May 5, 2026March 31, 2026 By kyndarisLeave a comment

Single’s Awareness Day is often a day of mourning for this blogger. I am, after all, single. And, as the years have gone by, I have resigned myself to the fact I might never find my second half. This is, in spite of the fact, I am constantly reading a horrendous amount of smut on AO3 (please NEVER look at my tabs. Those are sacred!) and kicking my feet when a couple acts incredibly sweet in an actual published novel (though the genre cannot ever actually be romance. What romance that does exist must solely be a subplot in the grander scheme of saving the world).

Still! Valentine’s Day 2026 was not without its own surprises as my family and I enjoyed our last full day in Launceston. But while I was not able to attend a pre-release event for Disney Lorcana, we did nip down to the Harvest Market, which is located in the carpark of 71 Cimitier Street.

While my stepfather remained in the hire car, me, my mother and Popo disembarked to take a gander at what was on offer. Though not as large or as impressive as the The Rocks Markets that can be found in Sydney, the Harvest Festival did have its own share of interesting produce and food options. As our family had enjoyed a hearty breakfast before venturing out, I settled on grabbing a snack for the drive ahead. This included picking up a bubble waffle drizzled in Tasmanian honey and a small hot chocolate to keep me going.

Bound to her wheelchair, Popo simply enjoyed taking in the sights and sounds of a bustling marketplace. But while I did have her try some of my bubble waffle, she was more enthralled by people-watching as we waited for my mother to return with a batch of specialised eye drops from a nearby chemist.

From the Harvest Market in the city centre of Launceston, we headed to the Bridestowe Estate – one of the world’s finest lavender farms. Of course, given the fact it was February, the lavender was not quite as vibrantly spectacular as they would have been in December and January. Rather, most of it had dried out. Admittedly, there was still a dull haze in the air.

Both my stepfather and mother headed down the rows to take in the view and snap whatever quality photos they could given the season. Meanwhile, I kept my grandmother company before taking the time to peruse the items on sale – purchasing for myself a set of lavender scented soap. Once my mother returned, we bought some lavender infused ice cream to try out.

From Bridestowe, we returned to Launceston to pay a visit to a nature preserve set in the middle of a lagoon. Tamar Islands Wetlands Centre lies on the outskirts of Launceston and is abundant with plant and animal life. Though it was roughly lunch time, our family enjoyed a short traipse along the accessible boardwalk taking in the views of the tall native Tasmanian grasses. Along the way, we gawked at the gulls and swans in the distance. We even spotted a copperhead snake lying in wait though it was gone by the time we returned to the visitor centre.

The visitor centre itself was fairly small with a tiny exhibit on the wildlife of Tasmania. Though there were a number of pamphlets, it seemed like the Tamar Islands Wetlands were visited primarily by citizen scientists or birdwatchers. Tourists such as my family never stayed for long before losing interest.

By the time we returned to our car, it was mid-afternoon. Hungry, we stopped by Saigon Kitchen, a Vietnamese restaurant located on Brisbane Street. As the rest of my family enjoyed some hearty pho, I grabbed a banh mi instead. Mostly because it had been a good long while since I had one as my favourite local one closed several months back.

With our stomachs full, my mother and I traipsed over to the local pedestrain shopping mall. There, I checked out the local EB Games and debated the logistics of purchasing more Disney Lorcana cards or whether or not I ought to refrain (spoiler alert, I did not buy the Brave Little Prince Mickey playmet though I was tempted). As my mother ducked into the nearby Myers, I also stopped to have a look at a local bookstore: Quixotic Books. Though no one tilted against windmills while there, I took a gander at some of the secondhand books on display and their small section of fantasy novels.

Once I had satiated my curiosity (even though I did leave empty-handed), my mother and I returned to the restaurant to rejoin the rest of the family and head back to our accommodations.

After an arduous day out at Cradle Mountain the day before, all of us were agreed a quieter day of rest was needed to recover our spirits and prepare us for when we would be heading to Hobart the next day.

Could I have gone back to the city centre to partake in more Disney Lorcana? Perhaps. But the thought of heading back out after a big morning out felt like anathema to my state of mind. Besides, it was easier to watch the Winter Olympics on the TV and enjoy a sedate Saturday afternoon as I played more of Pokemon Legends: Z-A.

Yet as my mother and I lounged on the couch, we snuck in a movie – letting it take us on a journey to the fantastical imaginings of what it would be like to live in a world where dinosaurs had been let loose on the world in Jurassic World Rebirth (which, if I’m being honest, simply does not hold a candle to the very first Jurassic Park and fails to inject the sense of awe we all felt during that brachiosaurus scene even as it tries to emulate it to the best of its ability).

So ended our last day in Launceston. Next stop: Hobart!

Veil Between (Part 4)

On April 26, 2026March 13, 2026 By kyndarisLeave a comment

“The more things change, the more they stay the same.” This quote seems more apt as ever with the world in turmoil. At time of posting, it has been just shy of two weeks when the United States of America and Israel launched an attack on Iran. While I hope this will be in the rearview mirror when this post goes live, the current situation feels dire. Even as I go about my daily life, there is a cognitive dissonance to the fact thousands of people are dying and in my perfect corner of the world, we’re all shaking out fists at the outrageous prices of petrol.

Yet while this feels like small potatoes for someone in the city, I’m sure months down the line, we’ll all feel the bite when there’s less produce because farmers did not have the necessary resources to sow crops or prepare their fields.

Though we might shrug at a pebble thrown into a pond, the ripple effects it can have from a global perspective can be devastating. But of course, these things are all outside the control of the average citizen going about their day. How can it be that the Strait of Hormuz be closed but I, a mere blogger, can still go attend an anime convention? It boggles the mind.

Anyways, enjoy another part of Veil Between!

Luck was with us when we caught up with Adeline Faversham at Gate 42 inside the Louis Armstrong airport. She had on a pair of flashy sunglasses and was dressed modestly in a grey pantsuit. The beige suitcase she was using for carry-on sat beside her as she waited for her flight to be called.

Her lips thinned as soon as she saw us.

As Patrice took the spare seat next to her, she whipped off her sunglasses to glare at the Scotswoman. “I’m afraid the seat is taken.”

“My apologies. I suppose whoever you were travelling with will have to sit elsewhere,” Patrice answered glibly. She made no attempt to stand.

“What are you doing here?” hissed Adeline.

Patrice smiled. “Same as you. Escaping New Orleans. What with that nasty business and all a week ago. And since this is my first time in America, I thought visiting Boston would be nice. Jordie, here, is keeping me company. Bereavement leave, you see.”

Adeline turned her sharp gaze on me. I offered her a jovial wave as I hefted my backpack to sit more comfortably on my shoulders. She looked back at Patrice.

“I thought our instructions were clear,” she hissed, voice barely audible over the hubbub of the airport. “No contact. No playing the hero. We all agreed to —”

“Funny thing about being unconscious,” I interrupted. “You can’t consent.”

Adeline eyed me warily. “So, you’re the reason behind this ambush.” She tugged on her suit jacket and flicked off a piece of non-existent lint. “Look, I’m sorry about your…friend. I didn’t know him but I am sorry for your loss.”

“He’s not gone. Not in the sense you mean.”

“I’m sure you think that but—”

“He isn’t,” I said, tone sharper than I intended. “And I understand why you might have reservations. All of this is outside your wheelhouse. You were just trying to maybe reach out to your deadbeat dead dad. Maybe seek some closure. I don’t know. Then it all went sideways. A woman was killed and a man has gone missing. When Copernicus did his thing, it was easy to write this up as a nightmare and push it to the back of your mind. Any responsibility you felt was washed away with but a small sum paid and sealed with blood. Am I wrong?”

A few moments passed between us, the tension so thick, one could cut it with a knife.

Finally, Adeline spoke. “What do you want?”

“Mike. He’s still out there. I mean to find him and bring him back home. In order to do it, I need your pendant. The one belonging to your father.”

Adeline tossed her head back and barked out a laugh. When I didn’t reply in kind, she wiped the corners of her eyes. “You can’t be serious. He’s—”

“Gone,” I said. “You don’t need to keep reminding me. But we’ve done the impossible before. Why not again? If we can just—”

“What? Unleash whatever horrors lie beyond upon our world? You’ve got to be out of your fucking mind.” Adeline fiddled with her sunglasses. “My family might be rich but even they’d say your proposition was insane. And they’ve tackled all manner of downright stupid ventures. Besides, you’re forgetting one important thing.”

“Oh?”

“Unless I’m mistaken, none of us know the first thing about magic.”

I glanced over at Patrice, hoping she might chime in with an answer. After all, she had been the one to tell me about the eldritch powers beyond our knowing. Instead, she had pulled out a novel from her bag and seemed engrossed by its pages. On its cover was a man with a flowing mane of dark hair. He was wearing tight leather pants and an unbuttoned white shirt. A dashing maiden was in his arms, looking up at him with a lovelorn look.

“Maybe so but you and I both know someone who might,” I said, pulling my eyes away from the indecent scene on display. There was no mistaking what Patrice was reading. Even if I desperately wanted to. “Copernicus. Find him, repeat the ritual with those who were in attendance and maybe it’ll open enough of the barrier for us to send whatever creature that came through back to its own world and Mike will be returned to us in exchange.”

Adeline narrowed her eyes. “And how do you know this will work? What if something else comes through and kills us? We barely escaped with our lives as is.”

I shrugged. “Maybe. But it’s a risk I’m willing to take. And unless you want your name dragged through the mud, you’ll agree. If I’m wrong, well, no harm. Copernicus will do his magic thing again and keep it trapped. Then we can all go home and forget any of this happened. If you’re especially lucky, maybe I’ll be the one who vanishes.” I flashed her a quick reassuring smile, hoping I sounded convincing enough.

Mike was always better at charming others than I was. He had a knack for making the impossible sound reasonable plausible.

After a beat, Adeline let out a huff. “Father always said I was too soft,” she muttered quietly under her breath.

“Think of it as playing philanthropy,” added Patrice. “All the money in the world and what has it brought you?”

“You’re not wrong there,” said Adeline. “Fine. But, Jordan, I’m giving you one chance.” She pulled out a business card. “Here. These are the contact details of my personal assistant. Get in touch with her when you have the chance. If we aren’t overprepared then we’re underprepared. And I have a feeling we’ll need to be ready for any and all situations.”

Relief flooded through me as I took the proffered card. “Thank you. I won’t let you down.”

“It’s not me you’ll be letting down,” said Adeline, putting back her sunglasses. “It’s Mike.” She rose from her seat and grabbed hold of her carry-on luggage. “He’s the reason you’re doing all this, right? Be strong. For him.”

As the call went out for all priority guests to begin boarding, Adeline waved goodbye to them and strode towards the gate. Just before she scanned her boarding pass, she glanced over her shoulder and lowered her sunglasses.

“Oh, before I forget, I did ask Rachel to do some digging into ‘Copernicus.’ I’ll let her know to send what she found over to you as soon as you contact her.” With that, Adeline turned on her heel, pressed her phone against the reader and sauntered onto the boarding bridge.

Two down. One to go.

“This can’t be right.”

“It’s the address Rachel gave us.”

“Let me see that.” Before I could refuse her, Patrice plucked the scrap of paper, scribbled with Copernicus’ address, from my hand. She squinted down at the street number and name then back up at the faded 53 atop the archway. With a loud sniff, she handed the address back to me. “How well do you think we can trust this Rachel?”

I shrugged. “Does it matter? When was the last time Copernicus replied to you on the forum?”

Patrice crossed her arms. In the two and a half weeks since we had become acquainted, I’d quickly learned the Scotswoman held very strong opinions about almost everything. More importantly, she did not like it when I pointed out the faults in her logic. In her mind, she was never wrong.

I took one last look around. The windows on the first two floors had been smashed. Most had been boarded up though some had been left gaping open. Darkness swirled within. On the old brick façade, colourful graffiti had been sprayed. None of them tasteful. In one quick scan, I’d counted about thirty slurs and just as many depictions of penises.

Not quite how I’d pictured the abode of the gentleman I’d been introduced to as Copernicus. But I suppose there were multiple facets to each person.

The intercom system was simpler than I expected. It was a list of four names and their associated apartments. I pressed the button next to ‘Lyle Holland.’

It rang out for a minute or so before a voice came through, tinny and distorted. “Fourth floor. Just leave the pizza at the door. Second on your right.”

Patrice was already pushing against the main entrance before he buzzed us in.

The two of us climbed the stairs to the fourth floor. By the time we reached it, I was out of breath. Patrice, on the other hand, was still raring to go. She knocked at Copernicus’ door. A rapid tat-tat.

“Leave the pizza on the floor.” The voice, though muffled, unmistakeably belonged to the gentleman I had met at the séance.

Patrice, however, ignored his request and seemed only to hammer on the thin wooden barrier harder. For a moment, I worried she might break it down. Then, without warning, it swung open. An irritated Copernicus stood in the threshold, a scowl on his face. His gaze darted from Patrice to me, uncomprehending.

“Where’s my pizza?” he finally asked.

“We don’t have—” Before I could finish, he slammed the door shut.

Immediately, Patrice was knocking on it again. A furious rhythm that even had me sympathising for the older gentleman.

“If you don’t have my pizza, go the fuck away!”

I tried my best to keep my tone civil. “Listen, we just want to talk to you.”

“Not interested,” he responded, sharply “I don’t do charities. Or government surveys. I refuse to support girl scouts on principle and I despise donating to the poor.”

“What about having a civil discussion about all things occult, Copernicus? Or do you prefer Lyle?” Patrice said, stepping in.

A pregnant pause followed her words. Just as I was about to suggest we regroup and come back at a later date with a plan of attack, the door opened again. Copernicus blinked at us. He was dressed in a ratty shirt and sweatpants. “Boudicca.”

Patrice inclined her head. “At your service.”

He turned to me, eyes looking up and down. Puzzlement was replaced with recognition. “Mr Brookstone. How delightful of you to visit.” He opened the door wider and stepped to the side. “Please. Come in, come in. Pardon the mess, I wasn’t expecting guests.” The last was a subtle jab. One I refused to acknowledge as Patrice and I stepped through the threshold.

Discarded pizza boxes were the first thing to catch my eye followed by the mountains of black garbage bags dotted in the narrow hallway. Further inside was a couch that had clearly seen better days. Next to it were stacks of newspapers. Glancing at them, most seemed decades old. All from different outlets.

On a coffee table covered with mugs sat a deck of tarot cards. Only one card sat on its lonesome: the grinning skull of Death.

“I suppose you’ve reached out to the others despite my instructions,” said Copernicus, making space for us to sit. “No, no. There’s no need to answer. I already know why you’re here. You’re in search of dear Michael Hillier, AKA Doyle. But of course, it’s hard to find someone who has simply vanished.”

Frustration bubbled inside me. Why were people so adamant about telling me I was on a fool’s errand? “He’s not de—”

“Dead? Well, of course not. But in the eyes of the world, he’s as good as.” Copernicus raised a finger, forestalling my next protest. “People who cross between worlds, Mr Brookstone, are rare. Those who survive whatever ordeal they face there are even rarer.”

“It doesn’t matter. I know Mike’s alive. And he’s waiting for me.”

Copernicus exchanged a knowing look with Patrice. “Observe Boudicca, the folly of youth,” he said in a tone I could only describe as paternalistic. He turned back to me. “And how, pray tell, are you planning to bring him back? Will you try to replicate the séance that went terribly wrong? Or will you, perhaps, try and find a ritual in some dusty book from Aleister Crowley’s, admittedly extensive, collection?”

“Who?”

The older man shook his head, a sympathetic smile on his lips. As if he wanted to bring me into his confidence. God, how I wanted to punch the smug white bastard in the jaw. “Mr Brookstone, am I right to assume you know nothing of portents and omens? That you’ve only listened to half an ear to Mr Hillier’s various monologues on the subject?”

“Well, when you put it like that—”

“Please, Mr Brookstone,” said Copernicus, interrupting me. “I’d rather you not waste our time by saying something truly embarrassing. Suffice it to say, spiritualism and the occult are not your forte.”

I grinded my teeth. “Yes. Correct,” I said, spitting the admission out like it was poison.

It was true. I’d not thought much on the practicalities of what we were hoping to achieve. My only goal had been bringing Mike back. No matter the cost. Or how feasible it would be.

If I was being honest with myself, I’d thought what I failed to grasp would be handled by someone else. Presumably Patrice given her passing familiarity.

There was something all together smug in how Copernicus looked at me as realisation dawned. I knew then, without a doubt, he would refuse us. After all, why would he support something he knew was destined to fail?

And without him, all my curated plans of playing the saviour evaporated. Like smoke on the wind.

The grief hit me harder than I expected. I staggered under its blow. Tottering on unsteady legs, I stumbled over to the couch and sank into it.

It took everything within my self-control not to immediately bury my head in my hands.

What had all this been for? Maybe if I’d convinced Mike going to the séance was a bad idea, he might still be here with me now. We’d be back home in our apartment. He’d be teasing me about voodoo sacrifices and ghosts.

Life would continue as it always did.

The sound of cards being shuffled drew me from my thoughts. I blinked up at Copernicus seated opposite me, a fresh cup of something hot resting on the table.

How long had I spiralled?

He noticed my attention. “Curious, Mr Brookstone? I’m only doing this as a favour to Boudicca.” He set the deck on the table. “Were it up to me, I’d have asked you to leave already. Boudicca, however, is a very stubborn woman. She lives up to the online moniker she adopted. A true warrior.” He smiled up at Patrice who had found a three-legged stool and was seated on it as comfortably as if it were a throne. “Now, if you would, I’d like you to cut the deck.”

I followed his instructions, still a little dazed. What was the whole point of this exercise? To rub my face in the futility of it all? But when I tried to grasp for anger, I was met with resignation.

Nothing mattered. Why not humour the man?

Copernicus, deaf to the growing roar in my ears, continued to speak as he set three cards before me facedown. Explaining, as he did so, the major and the minor arcana. All of it went over my head.

With Herculean effort, I roused myself as Copernicus began to flip over the cards one by one. When he reached the last one, he had a look of puzzlement to his features. It seemed the reading had gone differently than he expected.

“And now we reach the future.” He flipped the card over, revealing a person dressed almost like a jester. The fool, read the bottom. Copernicus looked at the card then back up at me. “Upright, this means taking a leap of faith. Of new beginnings.”

“Maybe the cards are telling you something,” chimed in Patrice. “You know, I always had a good feeling about Jordie here. And I’ve never been wrong. Not once.”

Copernicus hummed under his breath as he picked up the cards and reshuffled them into the deck. He asked me, again, to cut them before setting three cards face down once more. He flipped them over, revealing the same three from before.

“How intriguing,” he muttered quietly to himself.

Picking the cards back up, he shuffled and then drew a singular card from the deck. He stared at it for the longest time before leaning his head back and letting out a laugh.

“What is it?” asked Patrice, leaning over his shoulder to take a look.

Before he could show her the card, the intercom buzzed. Setting the tarot deck to the side, Copernicus rose to his feet to answer it.

“I’ve got a delivery for a Mr Holland?”

“Pizza?”

“Straight from the ovens of Papa Johns.”

“Fourth floor. Second door to the right. Just leave it there. Tip’s waiting.” He pushed the button below the receiver to buzz the deliveryman through. As he set the receiver back down, he turned to me and Patrice. “All right. I’m game. But, Patrice, you must understand there will be quite a few things we’ll need to get ready.”

“Of course,” said Patrice. “I’ve already my grandniece to look into where to procure silver dust.”

Copernicus nodded. “Excellent. But don’t forget we’ll also need pure iron if we wish to have any hope of defending ourselves. Can I trust you—”

“Consider it already done,” answered Patrice. “You do know this isn’t my first rodeo. Or so you Americans like to say.”

“Boudicca, please. I’ve seen things neither you nor Mr Brookstone could ever fathom. And it has changed something altogether fundamental within my make up.” A knock came on the door. “That should be the pizza. Let’s continue this later, yes? After we’ve filled our stomachs.” He made to open the door but paused, glancing over his shoulder. “Do the two of you mind, overly much, when it comes to anchovies?”

Bottom to Top: A Switch’s Pokemon Journey

On April 19, 2026March 6, 2026 By kyndarisLeave a comment

Pokemon is a series close to my heart. From my first playthrough of Pokemon Blue on my Gameboy Color back in the late 90s to the present day. While many fans have diversified their interest inot other fields (apparently robbing stores for trading cards is now the norm?), I have steadfastly kept my interest for the series focused only on video game releases. And while the Switch 2 had not truly piqued for interest (because, let’s be honest, only Donkey Kong Bonanza felt like amust-play title at time of release. Here’s hoping the new Fire Emblem will be the next big draw to upgrading), I was terrified Pokemon Legends: Z-A might suffer many of the performance issues that had plagued Pokemon Scarlet and Pokemon Violet. In my mind, an upgraded console was jsut the ticket.

So, it was in mid-October when I picked up my pre-ordered bundle at the local EB Games store. But while having a new console in hand did excite me, I still had many titles I needed to finish on the original Switch. It did not help that I had also recently purchased Final Fantasy Tactics: The Ivalice Chronicles. But, despite all the barriers, I had to still set up my new Switch 2. Once that was done, I, of course, had to install the game as well. It was, after all, on a download code, and I could not risk it expiring.

But even though I was ready to play Pokemon Legends: Z-A from the start of its release, I only ever picked it up on-and-off during Christmas and the first month of th year as I was preoccupied with getting other titles out of my backlog to clear some space for new games in 2026. That said, I did peck at it – getting through the early missions with as much gusto as any bright-eyed tourist who gets wrangled into becoming a Pokemon trainer and forced to join the Z-A Royale. During the quiet moments between other games, I tried to catch as many unique Pokemon as I could in the Wild Zones while ensuring my team was sufficiently overlevelled to tackle any problem the game might throw my way.

It was not until my trip to Tasmania that I decided to give Pokemon Legends: Z-A my full attention. Even if it included committing to terrible French accents in the room I shared with my grandma.

Thankfully, I had the foresight not to voice ALL characters with a French accent. In fact, most either had my default Australian accent or a posh Received Pronunciation. Occasionally, I’d throw in my interpretation of a generic American accent.

From a narrative standpoint, Pokemon Legends: Z-A does not truly pick up until Main Mission 9 where you, as the player character, encounter your first Rogue Mega Evolved Pokemon on the streets of Lumoise. It is here that you become an invaluable member of Team MZ as you balance rising up the ranks of the Z-A Royale and calming the poor Pokemon affected by Rogue Mega Evolution (always three). Unfortunately, the formula becomes quite rote as you embroil yourself with the various factors calling Lumiose home (Rust Syndicate, Society of Battle Connoisseurs, Canatics and the Justice League), attend strategy meetings once Vinnie from Quasartico calls with a list of Pokemon at risk of undergoing Rogue Mega Evolution, and going out to stave off any possible danger to the citizens of the city. Along the way, there are a number of side missions to also distract and lend itself to the lore of Pokemon.

While the main story does tackle darker themes of legacy and how the sins of the past can lead to repercussions in the present, most of these are glossed over by the player character’s happy-go-lucky attitude. Even when we confront members of Team Flare Nouveau, they soon join our side after unsuccessfully trying to convince us AZ is a terrible villain. That said, I’m surprised we never got the option to refute the ‘evidence’ they presented. After all, none of it could be proven and there was only one supposed source of information. How do I, as the player character, verify their claims? For all I know they could have RotomGPT their supposed findings on the Ultimate Weapon and Ange.

Still, if there was one thing I enjoyed about the story, it was how everyone came together to try and make Lumiose a better place. Even with the threat of Prism Tower going berserk and wreaking havoc near the end (along with the epic team-up with metamorphing Zygarde).

But playing a Pokemon game has never really been about the story. It’s about enjoying oneself in a make-believe world with a range of kooky characters and battling our hearts out.

In this, Pokemon Legends: Z-A did not disappoint. I enjoyed participating in Jacinthe’s tournament (and how she managed to infiltrate Team MZ’s strategy meetings through hologram. Then there was her own peronalised Jacinthe Zone. Alors, she should have been the ghost type trainer instead of fairy), Corbeau actually being a great big softie even as he ran a yakuza-lite organisation of do-gooders, and the revelation that it is Canari’s grandfather who actually has control of the holo live version of the gaming streamer.

There were even a number of Side Missions I enjoyed, including one about a missing child and her Litwick. Nintendo, being as family friendly as they are, surprised me with the jump scares. Then, of course, there was the Side Mission with the workaholic police officer and Shuppet, the empath and her Sylveon…and the movie director who wanted to shoot documentaries about terrifying Pokemon only to find they were actually sweet and adorable instead.

Gameplay-wise, Pokemon Legends: Z-A changes up the usual tried and true formula. While there had been hints of it in earlier titles like Pokemon Legends: Arceus and Pokemon Scarlet and Violet, Pokemon Legends: Z-A is the first time where battles are in real time. What this means is that both you, the player, and Pokemon can move around during the battle and reposition as needed. Theoretically, this allows your Pokemon partners to dodge attacks but I found it was much easier to take a hit or two as I launched a supereffective attack. Given the limitation area for battles and how more often than not your Pokemon partner merely lags behind you as you dash around, means getting out of the hit boxes for certain moves just isn’t feasible. Especially when you only start running when they’re winding up.

The only times I found it truly useful was for Future Sight, Substitute, Rock Tomb and when other trainers might try to lay a trap (for example, Stealth Rock or Toxic Spikes). Otherwise, in Rogue Mega Evolution battles, it was easier to return my Pokemon to its Pokeball as I tried to evade special moves taking up a majority of the battlefield.

That said, I’ll never get tired of being able to peg Pokeballs at unsuspecting Pokeball from the tall grass and watch as they get added to my box.

One of the key changes implemented by Pokemon Legends: Z-A is the removal of PP (Power Points). And this, perhaps, is the strongest argument for the shift to real-time battles. Replaced with cooldowns, you, as the Trainer, are no longer limited to only being able to fire off five Fire Blasts before having to use a restorative item to renew the number of uses. Instead, you can readily have your Pokemon use the same overpowered move again and again without worrying about wasting it.

Pokemon Legends: Z-A also kept a number of key quality-of-life improvements, including accessing boxes from the menu. It also introduced a number of its own, including the ability to freely change moves around when not in battle. This freed me up to experiment with a number of moves. And, given how the Z-A Royale has a number of Bonus Card objectives that limit you to particular status conditions or move types, being able to change my Pokemon’s moves allows me to quite easily complete these to earn additional coin and points.

Of course, like every Pokemon game, though, the repetitive gameplay loop did become a little stale by the end. Of note were Mable’s Research Tasks to unlock the Shiny Charm, the Side Missions requiring you to use a particular Pokemon (especially as these were only unlocked late to end-game), and the Infinite Z-A Royale (where you had to go through 15 challenges just to wrap up Taunie/ Urbain’s story arc and be given the chance to actually catch Zygarde).

While I would have liked to dismiss these as minor quibbles, Pokemon Legends: Z-A doesn’t do much to change up the Pokemon formula. Given how rote everything plays out, not to mention the limited nature of Lumiose City, Pokemon Legends: Z-A doesn’t quite reach the heights that the best Pokemon games have. In fact, there were many parts that dragged or felt like a chore as I played through, and I would have much preferred if I wasn’t forced into running around on minor fetch quests just to progress.

But hey, at least I got to look fabulous while doing so!

On a side note, PLEASE INCLUDE VOICE ACTING FOR POKEMON WIND AND WAVES, GAMEFREAK! Why have cinematic cutscenes that fail to land because you forgot to hire VOICE ACTORS?

Also, if Beast of Reincarnation releases with VOICES ACTING, that’s ALL the MORE reason why you need to include it in your POKEMON games.

How Far I’ll Go

On April 12, 2026February 20, 2026 By kyndarisLeave a comment

An oft overlooked gem, Tasmania is often jokingly considered irrelevant to mainland Australians in favour of us taking over New Zealand. Yet with Valentine’s Day creeping up on the horizon (as well as the Lunar New Year), my family thought now was an excellent time to pay a visit to the southernmost state for some recreational family bonding.

Travelling with my grandmother (also known an Popo) can be difficult. With limited mobility, it is hard for her to walk. As such, we often bring a foldable wheelchair with us when we go anywhere local. On our trip to Tasmania? We brought it along, wheeling her to the door of the plane. Virgin Australian and Qantas were quite accommodating with our accessibility requests. Popo never had to wait long for our wheelchair to be brought over so she could be slowly wheeled out afterwards. The weight and relatively compact size of the wheelchair also meant we were able to easily pack it into the hired care along with all of our luggage.

It was mid-afternoon when we landed in Launceston. After we briefly stopped at our accommodation in Youngtown, my family set out for Cataract Gorge, which sits just to the west of the city centre.

According to the brochure, Cataract Gorge was created during an earthquake that occurred when Australia broke away from the continent of Gondwana. It is believed volcanic activity dammed the Tamar Valley, leading to the formation of a freshwater lake. This later eroded over the course of 10 million years with the river system carving out a new landscape. Cataract Gorge, itself, only emerged in the last 20,000 years when ice in Tasmania’s mountains finally melted.

Though there was still time for us to take the chairlift to the original Cliff Grounds Reserve, my family decided simply to take a simple walk around the Basin and over towards the great Alexandra Suspension Bridge. With Popo in a wheelchair, we weren’t entirely certain how it would be brought along with us.

As we slowly made our way around the track, I spotted a peacock craning its head past some rocks. As is my want, I quickly snapped a shot. Further up, a small gathering of people were crowded around an echidna digging for insects to eat. So, of course, I snapped a photo of that as well.

The other fauna I saw included a number of guinea fowl. While I would have liked to have caught one for dinner, my family decided it would be best to try something a little different. After our walk around the basin, we headed to Pachinko located in the city centre – a quaint Japanese restaurant with a slightly limited dinner menu that was, nevertheless, enjoyable.

Friday dawned bright and early for us as we were intent on heading up Cradle Mountain. Initially declared a scenic reserve in 1922, it was later designated a national park in 1947 – a vision borne from Austrian-born Gustav Weindorfer and his wife, Kate. Given that it is also an alpine region, the weather on the mountain can change rapidly and frequently. It is due to this very reason that some people have died while hiking the mountain or have gone missing (as in the case of Belgian woman, Celine Cremer).

From Launceston, we had to first stop by the small town of Sheffield. Yet, while Cradle Mountain was the main draw, Sheffield was also its own marvel with its variety of murals on display near the visitor centre and all across the main street. These were all vibrant, with many exploring intricate themes while others were a tad silly. The ones I liked best seemed to evoke a sense of adventure.

After grabbing a hot chocolate, we hopped back into the car for our way up to Cradle Mountain. At the visitor centre, we purchased a park pass and a shuttle ticket to get up to Dove Lake. Despite the inclimate weather, there were many visitors in attendance. As we waited in line, I heard snippets of Chinese, German and even Spanish!

Once at Dove Lake, we paid a visit to the Boat Shed, which lay on the shore. Given the chill wind, my family then retreated to the shelter of the shuttle stop to have a spot of lunch (and mostly to keep an eye on Popo as the walks around Dove Lake weren’t as conducive to wheelchairs as we had hoped) though I decided to take a gander at Glacier Rock.

It was not long before a shuttle came trundling up to the stop and our family hopped on to head back down to the carpark. After much hewing and hawing (my stepfather had wanted to visit Lake Saint Clair – unfortunately, it was another three hour drive around the mountain), we decided to return to Launceston via Devonport (a coastal city where the Spirt of Tasmania calls home).

Whilst I would have preferred staying a little longer at Cradle Mountain (mostly to pay a visit to Waldheim – the chalet built by the Austrians who would declare the mountain a national park), it was not to be.

Along the way to Devonport, we stopped by Waratah – snapping a shot of the waterfall located in the very heart of the town itself.

Devonport, itself, is the third-largest city of Tasmania. Focused more on key sites, we headed to the Mersey Bluff Lighthouse to take photos of the coastline before stopping by the local harbour where a Spirit of Tasmania (along with a Seaport ship) was docked.

While we initially flirted with the idea of grabbing dinner in Devonport, we decided to head back to Launceston instead. There, we tried out Luz Restaurant, which was located in what felt like a refurbished waiting room of an old manor or hotel (with the entrance serving as a fire door). While I was a little puzzled by its presentation, the food was delicious (if a little light in serving size for my stepfather’s tastes). Full, my family returned to the car while I vanished down a side street – paying a visit to Scenic Isle Gaming to purchase a pre-release box of Disney Lorcana Cards (Winterspell for those in the know). Which, of course, they did have. And for $30 cheaper than the usual local gaming store I do go to!

There was even a promo card attached to it (which they put in a plastic sleeve which had a picture of Raine from the Owl House. And now I’m wondering if Lorcana will ever adapt the characters FROM the Owl House into actual cards. They’ve already done the animated Lilo and Stitch and Ducktales. Why not Kim Possible and a slew of other iconic IP from my childhood?

Is my attachment a symptom of my Disney Adult-itis? Possibly. And yet the nostalgia is strong!

AND the next few sets will star PIXAR characters as well! Be still, my beating heart!

Thus ended my family’s first two days in the island state just across the Bass Strait. There would, of course, be more adventures ahead for us. After all, we had much more to see and do. And while we would miss a few iconic sights (like the town of GRINDLEWALD), I like to think we got to enjoy a balance of history and nature.

So, while we mainland Australians may joke about Tasmania never being one of us, there’s a lot more to it that meets the eye.

Veil Between (Part 3)

On April 5, 2026March 31, 2026 By kyndarisLeave a comment

Another week, another drip of short story. At time of writing up this post, I’ve just come back from a short family trip to Tasmania. This does mean, of course, I’ll be writing up blogs posts about it. That said, they, much like the ones I did for Melbourne last year, won’t be uploaded on a daily basis. Rather, they’ll be spread out – interspersed with the occasional story or video game post. As is my wont. Since, you know, this is my blog.

But have no fear, dear reader, for this humble blogger will be exciting everyone’s feeds with daily posts for roughly four weeks (possibly five) regarding a planned future trip!

Where I might be travelling to, I’ll leave to your imagination though I’m sure the mutuals I have, and the real life friends who read my blog, will know exactly where I’ll be jetting off to.

On a side note, I’ve become truly addicted to Disney Lorcana. Not say, in an unhealthy way, but more in a ‘want-to-complete-each-playset’ kind of way. And if I stumble upon an Enchanted or Iconic along the way, who could deny me?

As for my next video game post, I’m unsure if I should leap right into Metaphor: ReFantazio or keep up my Pokemon Legends: Z-A playthrough. Most likely, it’ll be the latter. After all, I’m already thirty hours in.

Anyways, I hope you the next part to my Veil Between story!

A week, it took, for me to heal from my injuries. Even then my ribs were still sore when I pressed on them. But there was no time to sit around. There was a fearsome creature from another dimension trapped in our world. All it would take for disaster to strike would be a group of curious teenagers. Their deaths the news headline for the week.

Then, of course, there was the Mike factor.

Despite our differences and the nonsensical fights in recent months, I still loved him. And there was a part of me who refused to believe he was gone.

I knew he was out there. Waiting.

Finding Madam Xanthe was a lot easier than I anticipated. A quick Google search revealed she had a fortune telling parlour next to a laundromat in a shopping strip on the other side of New Orleans. The reviews were less than favourable. My favourite one described the woman as a quack medium who couldn’t even grift properly.

When Patrice and I parked outside, the door was barred. The sign hanging inside read ‘Closed’ in big bold red letters. We knocked anyway. Or, at least, Patrice did.

After several minutes, the dowdy medium I remembered from the night of the séance, scowled out at us. She was wearing blue distressed jeans and pink t-shirt that had a graphic of three wolves staring up at the moon across the chest. An evil eye pendant sat around her neck.

She pointed to the sign. When Patrice ignored her, Madam Xanthe unlocked the door. “Can’t the two of you read?” She pointed again to the sign. “Closed. Until further no—wait.” She peered closer at Patrice and then me, squinting her eyes. “No. No, no, no. What are you doing here? I thought it was agreed we’d forget about what happened. Consign it to the past.”

“Well, if it were up to me, I’d have gone back home but Jordie, here, was adamant.”

Madam Xanthe turned her attention towards me. “So, what? You want to be flung across a room again, do you? If you didn’t notice, I lost my only assistant. And now my business is ruined! Can’t a woman have some time to herself without answering to the whims of men who clearly don’t have a lick of sense?”

“I didn’t think you’d want some monster roaming the streets of New Orleans,” I retorted. “But clearly, I was wrong.”

“This wasn’t my doing.”

“Oh? But it was your séance. Your ritual. Do you really expect me to believe those words you had us chant was actually gobbledegook and not a means of summoning a demon from Hell?”

Madam Xanthe flinched at my words as if they were physical blows. She seemed to shrink before me. The anger fuelling her before, gone. Like someone had put it out with a bucket of ice cold water.

A placating hand found its way to my shoulder. “Jordie, peace. Even if she were an all-powerful medium, she would not have been able to pierce through the barrier surrounding our world and bring forth an eldritch being. Not, at least, without an artefact of some sort.”

I turned to Patrice. “What do you mean?”

“There was something else that day, wasn’t there?” Patrice asked Madam Xanthe.

The other woman looked askance, scratching her left elbow with her right hand. “Look, I’d like to help but I’m awfully tired.” She made to close the door.

I could see any hopes of rescuing Mike slipping from my fingers. With surprising alacrity, I stuck my foot between it and the frame, wincing at the pain.

“Madam Xanthe—”

“Maria, please,” she corrected. “Xanthe is just a pseudonym Magdalene picked for me. Said it sounded more exotic and befitting of someone in my trade. Then she tacked on the ‘Madam’ for added mystique.” Resignedly, Madam Xan—no, Maria, cracked the door a few inches wider. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that. Suppose it won’t be too much of a bother if I give you fives minutes of my time. Any more and I’ll start charging. Deal?”

She led us further inside, past a bead curtain. The table before us was covered in a cheap felt cover. At its centre sat a deck of tarot cards.

Taking a seat at the far end, she motioned Patrice and me to the tacky couch. “Would the two of you like a coffee?”

“We don’t have time—”

“Thank you, that would be lovely. Espresso, please. No sugar.”

I turned to glare at Patrice as she perched on the couch but she paid me no mind as she smiled at Maria.

“What are you doing?” I hissed as Maria ducked into another room. “Mike’s still out there and you’re—”

“Enjoying some hospitality,” Patrice replied primly. “Jordie, dear, you really need to learn some patience. A few minutes here or there won’t spell the end.”

“The first 72 hours after a person goes missing are critical—”

“And have already passed,” said Patrice. “Listen, I understand where you’re coming from. He’s your other half. The two of you, combined, make for a decent basketballer player from the 90s, but you can’t let your fear dictate your actions. Nor will your snippy attitude help sway Maria to your side.”

Her words gave me pause.

Resisting the urge to knock aside the table, I took in a deep breath and sat down on the couch, burying my head in my hands. Patrice was right (not that I would ever admit it to her).

A week had passed already since Mike’s disappearance. For all I knew, he could be dead. Torn apart, instantly, by the eldritch realm he had fallen into.

On the other hand, he might still be alive. Surviving through sheer stubbornness.

Mike was Mike, after all. He’d always been adaptable. Flexible.

It was this hope I clung to.

But giving in to my baser impulses would only delay me further. I needed information and allies. Both of which Maria could provide if I only played it smart.

The clink of chinaware brought me out of my thoughts. Maria had returned with a large tray. She had prepared three chipped mugs, a glass carafe filled with murky brown sludge, a pot of milk and a bowl filled to the brim with sugar cubes. I felt a nudge in my ribs and looked over at Patrice. She nodded to Maria. With a groan, I rose to my feet and helped Maria set the tray down on the table before disseminating the mugs.

Once Patrice and Maria were both nursing a warm beverage between their hands, I decided to push forward with the reason for our visit.

Maria listened attentively enough. She nodded at all the right points and sought clarification when I’d inevitably spiralled. Yet even I could see my attempts at persuasion were not working.

“What you ask of me, Jordan, I cannot do. All this black magic mumbo jumbo? Above my pay grade,” said Maria as she set her empty mug back on the tray. Though I’d foreseen it, the rejection still stung. I opened my mouth, ready to argue, again, for her aid. She stopped me, raising an open palm. “But it does not mean I cannot help through other means. The two of you wanted information, yes? Magdalene was the brains behind my operation. She organised the client, the séance, and the props. How she pulled it together is something I’m still trying to wrap my head around.”

“What are you trying to tell us?” I asked. “Are you saying there was something underhanded going on?”

Maria nodded. “Exactly. Magdalene was always one to dream big. And if her mother and I weren’t fast friends, and she a dab hand at accounting, I would have fired her long ago. But the thing is, something happened about six weeks ago. Became more secretive. Told me she booked a gig for us and that I had to use specific items during the séance. Said it was part of a request.”

“And then what happened?” said Patrice, leaning forward, all rapt attention.

“Two days before the séance, she brought in this silver pendant. Said it belonged to the client’s father and would serve as a focus,” said Maria, voice soft. “I didn’t think much of it at the time. Personal belongings are helpful when trying to commune with those who have crossed over. Except, there was something a little strange. A little off. The aura it radiated was unlike anything I’d ever seen. It was like a sickly sludge of black and grey and brown with streaks of angry red. If I didn’t know any better, I would have said the thing was cursed.”

“And where is it now?” I pushed.

“I gave it back. To, oh, what’s her name again? Adelaide?”

“Adeline,” corrected Patrice as she stirred her coffee before finally taking a sip. Her face soured immediately and she replaced the mug back on the tray.

Maria inclined her head. “Yes, yes. I remember now. Adeline.” She turned back to me. “After everything that happened, it seemed only right. Her family might come from old money but she was still human. Still lost and grieving. Even if her father was a bit of a tyrant, what with his media empire. Near the end, of course, he pivoted to cryptocurrency and artificial intelligence. Things Adeline didn’t quite agree with but she’s not exactly a member of the board, is she?”

“You know quite a bit,” I said.

“Simple background research,” Maria answered flippantly. “In my line of work, it’s crucial. Can’t have the client thinking you’re some kind of hack. I find it easier to drip feed them aspects of their background. More impressive.”

“Would you happen to know where she might be now?”

Maria shrugged. “Hard to say. She did say her intention was to spend a week or two here in New Orleans but after the disastrous séance, she might have gone home already.” She looked askance, drumming her fingers against the table. “I believe Magdalene mentioned she had a small apartment in Boston. Works as a lawyer or something.”

“Do you have an address? Maybe a cell number?” I asked.

“Magdalene was the one who did all the admin,” Maria admitted with a grimace. “That said, I can have a quick look. See what I can dig up on the computer.

For the first time since I’d woken up, lost and confused on Patrice’s bed, relief spread through me. “Thank you. I don’t know how I can repay you for all this assistance.”

“Easy,” Maria said, flashing me the first smile I’d seen her wear. “Just Venmo me. I’ll print you out the invoice now.”

Star-Crossed Amanti

On March 26, 2026February 8, 2026 By kyndarisLeave a comment

Two households, both alike in dignity. In fair Sicily, where we lay our scene. Yet though Isabella was a Torrisi born, fair Enzo was naught but a corusu working in the mines for the Spadaro family syndicate. Mafia: The Old Country is a game that has you in the shoes of a young man struggling to make his mark on the world. Sold into slavery, all Enzo has known is the mines until one day, when his friend is killed, he stands up against the oppressive Il Merlo before escaping.

Releasing in August 2025, Mafia: The Old Country is a game from developer Hanger 13 and works as a prequel to the Mafia franchise, which were predominantly set in the ficional city of Empire Bay. Mafia: The Old Country scales it all back by placing the players in the Sicilian countryside. And while the scenery is pretty, I found the game lacking – especially by the way it tried to force a lacklustre open-world.

In fact, I would have preferred it if the game had not sought to tack on an open-world aspect to the game and kept it as linear as possible. While a free update brought in ‘Free Ride’ option to the game, the Valle Dorata never truly came alive due to the lack of any meaningful sidequests or activities. Rather, the open-world portion of the game felt like a huge empty collectathon for pictures, newspapers and saint cards that added little to the overall experience beyond fulfilling the requirements for a trophy. Hardly riveting gameplay though it was enough to sustain my interest as long as I had a video essay going on in the background.

Much like Star Wars Outlaws before it, Mafia: The Old Country is a third-person action game where Enzo hides behind waist-high cover and occasionally pops out to shoot at his enemies with a variety of weapons he can cycle through. The only reason why I might have used a few different guns instead of sticking to my favourites? To unlock a few trophies along the way. Otherwise, most times, I was usually creeping around a map and choking out enemies to ensure I managed to stealthily reach the unskippable cutscene and pop whichever hidden trophy I’d scoped out beforehand.

The only thing Mafia: The Old Country added were intense knife fights. Yet each time these events came about, I was surprised why Enzo or one of his enemies didn’t just reach for a handgun they should have been armed with earlier and just shooting.

Were they a fun dance? Most assuredly. Did it make sense in the grand scheme of the plot? Only about half the time.

My other gripes with the game came from the floaty vehicles Enzo drove around. I found, during my playthrough, that I much preferred riding a horse around the rural countryside rather than deal with the finicky cars I was given. The thought of having to stop and refuel also rubbed me the wrong way given the opportunities of earning extra dinari felt limited to replaying chapters and looting them off corpses.

Admittedly, the Free Ride add-on did provide multiple challenges across the map wherein Enzo might earn his keep as a soldato of the Torrisi family, none actually felt fun or contributed much to the narrative being told.

Gameplay woes aside, I did enjoy the story presented in Mafia: The Old Country. From the very start, Enzo engaged me far more than Kay Vess. While the story does lean on particular stereotypes, I did not mind seeing our poor suffering protagonist go from working in a sulfur mine to slowly becoming embroiled in the world of the mafioso. His easy banter with a young Leone Galante, the budding friendship with Cesare Massaro and his romance with Isabella Torissi kept me going.

Then, of course, there was Enzo’s relationship with Gianluca Trapani. Underboss of the Torrisi Crime Family, Luca served as a firm but fair mentor to Enzo. It was he who took Enzo under his wing and vouching for him when Enzo finally joins the family. It is his death near the end of the game, after the Torrisi family are ambushed by Don Spadaro and Baron Fontanella at the Galante tuna factory that sets Enzo on his path to break away from the violent world of feuding families.

Unfortunately for our protagonist, there is no happy ending. When Tino, and then Don Torrisi, hears of the affair between Enzo and Isabella, he is apoplectic with rage. In spite of the loyalty Enzo had displayed (as well as the danger he put himself in), he would forever remain a mine boy and unworthy of Isabella’s hand. Don Torrisi even rails at the fact he gave Enzo everything. The ‘everything’ in question being the very same sulfur mine Enzo had escaped from – but not his daughter.

While a part of me felt like this could have been resolved if Enzo had come clean earlier (he had, after all, told Isabella that once he had gained the Don’s trust, he would ask for his blessing), the final confrontation between the two also proved that no matter what heights Enzo might have aspired to, he would forever be tarnished by his origins. This was also evident in Enzo’s final confrontation with Cesare, who, after being overlooked for a higher position in the family, seemed jealous of Enzo’s success (it was, in my opinion, giving Nishiki and Kiryu vibes).

Perhaps, given time, Enzo’s supposed betrayal might have stung less. But, come on, the guy was barely surviving everything the plot was trying to do to keep him down. And then you bring him in for a hug and stab him?

Cesare, I thought better of you! Especially when he let you live when he could have so easily killed you earlier!

Which, I suppose, was the point. Mafia: The Old Country is a tragedy much like Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet.

That said, I’m surprised no one ever wondered why Enzo chose never to sleep with the courtesans. While I think it might have been funny if some of them might have thought Enzo was gay, the fact none of Enzo’s friends cottoned on to him and Isabella just goes to show just how blind the rest of the Torrisi family were when it came to corusu from the Spadaro mines.

At least Isabella got to avenge Enzo by killing Tino. Which, in my humble opinion, was well-deserved. Even if the game resolutely tries to show just how weak and powerless a woman in early 1900s Sicily was. Tino was an old man! Why was Isabella struggling to even bring a knife down on him?

After nine years, Mafia: The Old Country released with little fanfare and proved to be a divisive entry to the franchise. While I enjoyed the tragic tale, with its glimmer of hope at the end, I struggled with the general gameplay and the tacked on open-world which had little to no exciting features except an endless list of collectibles. Worst of all, it failed to include quality-of-life aspects – such as the ability to drop a waypoint or highlight the location of a collectible. Then, of course, there was no way to unlock the locations FOR each and every collectible except to either comb the map from one end to the other OR look up an online guide.

Should there ever be a follow-up to Mafia: The Old Country – whether we see what the future entails for Isabella Torrisi and her unborn child or if the developers decide to go in a completely different direction – I’d like to see them address the core issues tied to their limited gameplay. Especially when the open-world aspect for Mafia: The Old Country felt half-baked at best and completely unnecessary at worst.

On the plus side, I think I’ve learned several choice Italian/ Sicilian swear words that I might try to employ. ‘Figgh’i buttana’ anyone?

Nobody Gets Left Behind or Forgotten

On March 19, 2026February 3, 2026 By kyndarisLeave a comment

When it comes to the Star Wars universe, most stories revolve around the conflict between the Jedi and the Sith. Occasionally, tehy will you instead into the boots of an Imperial stormtrooper or an agent of the Rebel Alliance. It is rare indeed when the protagonist of a Star Wars IP is one of the countless milliions just looking to survive, instead of being an active member in the galactic fight between good and evil. Star Wars Outlaws is an attempt to buck this trend by casting you, the player, in the role of a down-on-her-luck would-be thief.

The controversies of Ubisoft aside, Star Wars Outlaws is a strong foray into something a little different. While many online warriors decried the game as ‘woke’ for having an ‘unattractive female protagonist,’ I found there was much to love: from the relationship between Kay Vess and ND-5 (Nix too) to how story beats melded into gameplay. My one major nitpick of it all? Kay Vess’s initial motivation for her journey out into the wider galaxy beyond Canto Bight and the lack of a juicy narrative hook to get me invested into the story.

In musical theatre, there is usually a song at the start that lays out the goals of the protagonist and sets up the general theme for the ensuing two hours and a half. In the case of Kay Vess, the only thing she wants is survival. Unfortunately, when it comes to the typical Hero’s Journey, this isn’t what many would deem a worthy objective. In fact, the first few hours into Star Wars Outlaws would have been more narratively satisfying if Kay Vess had actually sworn off doing anything criminal. She is, after all, just looking to keep a roof over her head. Why not go legitimate (it makes more sense her starting point be anywhere else but a two-bit thief especially given her strained relationship with her mother) before being brought back into the world of underworld syndicates? In my humble opinion, it would have made more sense from a character standpoint AND explain why she was seemingly so naive about machinations of the criminal underbelly.

Or, perhaps, the writers should have gone the route of Final Fantasy XII – the most Star Wars-esque of the Final Fantasy games. True, Vaan is often derided as the main protagonist but hey, at least he knew what he wanted: a sky pirate. Perhaps if Kay Vess had said that she wanted to leave Canto Bight because of a grand dream, it would have made more narrative sense why she was risking life and limb for dangerous but rewarding jobs. Elsewise, I believe Star Wars Outlaws would have been better served setting up Kay as a veteran scoundrel whose carefully planned out heist of Sliro’s mansion goes horribly wrong (look no further to the Jet Kordo recordings of how it might have played out), where Kay painstakingly picks up the pieces and assembles a new crew.

Instead, Kay is just your solo operator, struggling to make ends meet in the Worker’s District of Canto Bight. Rather than finding gainful employment, she is adamant about somehow striking onto the next big score so she and Nix can potentially live in comfort for the rest of their lives (and away from the brewing conflict between the Empire and the Rebels). Foreplanning and luck, however, are not her strong suits and she is chased down by the Sixth Kin members who rough up her benefactor: Bram Shano. Knowing she needs to find a way offworld, a reluctant Bram offers Kay the job he had not wanted to give her at first.

The job, of course, goes horrendously wrong but Kay is able to escape on the Trailblazer and winds up crashing on Toshara. There, she enlists the aid of the first scavenger to chance upon her ship: a Rodian named Waka. Her first order of business? Finding the credits and/ or parts needed to repair the Trailblazer.

It is this first act which serves as a introduction for the wider Star Wars Outlaws. On Toshara, Kay learns the ropes of managing her reputation between rival syndicates as well as how to take on contracts to pad out her somewhat thin resume. She is alos able to find experts to assist her along the way, including a speeder mechanic (who she exchanges a few flirtatious looks with) and a veteran slicer (who comments how similar Kay is to her absent mother).

Of course, just as Kay manages to find the parts she needs to repair the ship, Waka betrays her (as is scoundrel fashion). However, before the bounty hunter Vail can claim the Death Mark placed on her, Kay is saved by ND-5, a droid in the employ of one Jaylen Vrax. This act of kindess, though, is not without its price. Jaylen, a fellow outlaw like Kay, is looking to set up a thieving crew to break into Sliro’s Vault.

So begins the much meatier second act of the game where Kay journeys to multiple systems in the Outer Rim to fit out the crew she needs to pull off the heist. Before too long, Kay is joined by Ank and Gedeek. And while Kay does try to recruit Hoss, he is killed in Jabba’s palace and the fledling crew pivot. Enter the rebel Asara and Kay’s missing mother Riko.

Despite selling itself as a heist story, Star Wars Outlaws is truly a story about family. Those you might be related to by blood, but also the family you find. This is exemplified by the bonds Kay makes with her fellow crew members even though she was taught at an early age not to expect assistance from anyone (including her own mother). Her insistence on rescuing Nix, and then ND-5, in spite of the danger it puts herself in, shows what she truly values in life. And while it is also true Kay does not care for causes, she is still a woman of principles that will drop everything for the people she loves.

The one important thing about playing Star Wars Outlaws is realising Kay is no Jedi. She does not have access to any Force powers. Nor does she wield a lightsaber. Instead, she relies heavily on her shooting prowess. Think every single over-the-shoulder third-person shooter with waist-high cover and red explosive barrels every five feet or so.

While the gameplay isn’t exactly inspired, it is serviceable – with a few changes to the tried-and-true formula as Kay mixes up the modules to her blaster as needed. While most enemies will fall to her usual blaster fare, Kay also has access to an ion module, as well as a power one (which sends out an explosive bolt that can even damage walls). Her other core talent is knocking people out with a good ol’ punch to the head. And though one might think it would simply knock your enemies out, the default dialogue would indicate Kay is so powerful she is able to kill nearly everyone with a single blow. Who knew she was secretly One Punch Woman?

The other gameplay elements of the game fit around this core system – including scavenging parts in remote chests across four vast open-world maps, speeder chases and dogfights in space. That said, I did feel like the speeder was a little too floaty and janky for my tastes (despite the fact I palyed the game a year and a half after its release) and the Trailblazer felt almost cumbersome in comparison as it engaged in dogfights in space.

Would the game have been better served as a linear experience a la the Uncharted series? Most likely, but I suppose there is something to be said about the the gameplay cycle of accepting contracts and playing each criminal syndicate against each other to scrape every single possible credit one might need for gear and ship upgrades.

The one saving grace in what could be best described as fairly mediocre gameplay? Playing Kessel Sabaac. It’s like playing two-card poker that gives you three rounds to make the best combination you can to beat the other players. Mixing it up, too, are a number of cheats (which I found I didn’t really need) and a number of tokens to ensure a game might end in your favour (Cook the Books, anyone?).

Set between The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi, I did also appreciate the number of cameos Star Wars Outlaws managed to cram in. That said, I did feel the presence of Darth Vader cheapened the experience a little given its focus on the outlaws of the wider Star Wars galaxy. Which is why, of course, I appreciated the appearance of one Lando Calrissian and Han Solo (still trapped in carbonite).

Overall, I would say the pros outweighed the cons when it came to Star Wars Outlaws. While I am certain a sequel would have better served the characters, I also know it has been cancelled in lieu of restructures and a preference for other IPs at Ubisoft. Still, Star Wars Outlaws was unafraid to test something new. Was it life-changing? No. But it didn’t need to be. I just wish I got to see more banter between Kay and Vail after the two reached an understanding. I’m sure if Star Wars wasn’t a Disney property, we might have seen more sapphic representation. And honestly, that’s the only thing I really care about in this day and age.

Veil Between (Part 2)

On March 12, 2026January 31, 2026 By kyndarisLeave a comment

Though 2026 has just started, so much seems to have happened in a short span of time. At time of writing up this post, it’s unsure what will happen to Iran, or even the United States of America. Meanwhile, Ukraine and Russia are still duking it out with no victor yet in sight (though most people have their money on Russia eking out the win. And with the manpower they’re able to throw at the problem, it does seem likely they’ll be able to overwhelm what is left of the Ukraine forces).

As for my personal life, well, I’ve almost finished Star Wars Outlaws. While I would have preferred writing up a post for it instead, I am also very proud of my occult horror short stories. Especially because they’re all connected in some way (and they may end up becoming an anthology of sorts. If anyone knows an agent or publisher, please let me know!).

Meanwhile, the start of the year saw me finish off The Little Prince and Ready Player One. And, well, let’s just say I have many thoughts about the writing. Especially in how it tells more than it should and seems to coast along on 80s nostalgia. The world-building of the OASIS also felt a little underbaked and while I can applaud Ernest Cline for including commentary on the state of the world, I wish there had been more focus on these aspects instead of keeping it mostly relegated as background information that did little to serve the plot except to emphasise how poor protagonist Wade Owen Watt was during the first third of the book.

In any case, here is part two of my short story. Please enjoy!

Admittedly, it’s always a joy to write Patrice in any shape or form. Even in the perspective of another, she is truly a delight.

An unfamiliar sight greeted me as I opened my eyes. The ceiling I saw above me was not the same one from my hotel. Instead of a drab white ceiling with fixed lighting, the one before me looked like it had come from Versailles with its decorative mouldings and patterns. In its centre hung a huge chandelier.

The bed, too, was softer than I remembered. More spacious. Whereas usually, Mike would push me off to the side.

Mike!

I jolted from bed.

Or, at least, attempted to.

Excruciating pain racked my body, leaving me bedbound. The only thing I was able to do was let out a groan as my head hit the pillow beneath. Already, I could feel a headache forming. It throbbed in my temples, begging me to pull out a drill and commit self-mutilation like the physicians of old.

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

I turned my head towards the source of the voice. Patrice was seated in the armchair beside me. Knitting.

“What happened? Where am I?” I asked. Or, at least, tried to. It came out as more of a dry gurgle. My lips refusing to form words and my vocal cords straining with the effort of articulation.

Patrice set aside her knitting before turning to grab the mug closest to her. “Here. Should help some,” she said, handing me the mug. “Now, I expect you have a lot of questions. So, I’ll try to answer them as best I can. This,” she gestured to the room, “is my suite. We’re in a boutique hotel I booked on the corner of the French Quarter. And well, let’s just say a lot of things happened during the séance. You do remember the séance, don’t you Jordie dear?”

I inclined my head. Bits and pieces were starting to return to me. Mike had wrangled me once again into one of his foolhardy ideas. Despite my own feelings on the matter, I’d acquiesced. Of the séance and what occurred during it, my memory was still fuzzy. I remembered Madam Xanthe beginning to chant. And then…nothing.

“Right disaster it was,” said Patrice, pulling my attention back to the present. “Always knew Madam Xanthe was a quack but I never once thought she’d be one to open up the barrier protecting our world.”

“What do you mean?” I croaked out after wetting my lips with the tea she’d given me.

“How much do you remember?”

I shook my head. “About as far as singing Kumbaya. Except it was probably Latin.”

“Oh, I knew I liked you,” said Patrice, a small smile on her lips. “You speak your mind.”

“Mike always said it was my most toxic trait.” I took another sip of the tea, feeling the hot liquid soothe my throat. “Speaking of which, where is he? The two of us were seated together during the séance. His hand was in mine. And then—”

I broke off as a fragmented memory flitted through my mind. At the height of the ritual, there had been a brilliant white light. Mike’s hand, familiar with how clammy with sweat, had vanished. I was left grasping air.

Before I could even process what had happened, Adeline let out an ear-splitting scream. My head turned, searching for a threat. But all I saw was Magdalene, the rude girl who served as Madam Xanthe’s assistant, hovering in the air.

Her face was pale as death and she looked like she was struggling to escape the jaws of some monstrous creature.

Except, there was nothing there.

Or so it seemed.

I don’t know what possessed me to leap to my feet and try to help her. Someone let out a warning. I don’t know who. Nor did it matter.

Just as I managed to reach Magdalene, something slammed into me from the side. I was sent careening into the far wall. Before I’d even hit the ground, darkness consumed me.

The memory, or whatever it was, must have shown on my face. Patrice reached over and gently patted my arm. The look she gave me was not one of pity but empathic concern. “It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

“Am I? Something attacked us. Something I couldn’t even see with my own eyes. And it took Mike. It killed Magdalene.” I gripped the bed covers. “What happened after I was knocked out? Patrice. Please. I need to know.”

The story she recounted sounded like something from a horror movie. An invisible creature ripping Magdalene in two. Wounding me, Copernicus and Adeline. Had it not been for some quick thinking, we might have all been killed. As luck would have it, we’d all managed to escape. Incapacitated as I was, Patrice had thrown me over the shoulder in a fireman carry.

When she had finished, I had my head buried in my hands. God. Who would, in their right mind, believe such a tale?

Surely not the authorities.

They would have taken one look at the bedraggled Scotswoman and thought she’d been drinking one too many sherries during the night.

So, how had I ended up in a boutique hotel halfway across the French Quarter?

I was missing something important.

My thoughts whirled, sifting through what Patrice had told me before latching on to something she had conveniently left out. What had happened to the creature?

It was doubtful Patrice, Copernicus, Adeline or even Madam Xanthe would have had the abilities to take something of that calibre down by themselves. True, us Americans liked our guns but even they would have been outmatched by an enemy they could not see.

“How did we get here?”

Patrice let out a frustrated huff. “I’ve told you that already, Jordie dear. You really ought to be paying better attention.”

“Yes. No. Look. I understood everything you told me,” I said. God. Were all women this infuriating? I took a deep breath to calm myself. “What I meant to ask is how did you stop the creature. Surely it would have given chase. Unless, of course, it’s tearing through New Orleans as we speak and we’re just sitting out on the fun?”

A knowing smirk formed on Patrice’s lips. “Noticed, did you? Smart and good looking. No wonder you’re the alpha.” She leaned in close like she was about to tell me a secret. “So, how does this knotting thing work between the two of you?”

I stared up at Patrice, mouth agape. It took me several minutes for my brain to compute what she had just asked. “What?”

“Oh, it’s just something my grandniece showed me. I was doing some research into the supernatural and she directed me to this website. Archive of our own? It’s been a great learning resource. Quite titillating too. Though I still don’t quite understand what a ‘Destiel’ is. And I’ve been trying to wrap my head around all these newfangled phone apps like YouTube and Tik—”

“No. Stop. Please.”

Patrice shrugged. “Your loss, I suppose.”

I squeezed my temples. “You’re trying to distract me,” I said after several moments of tense silence. “The creature. If you wouldn’t mind.”

My insistence seemed to sober Patrice. She leaned back in her armchair, picked up the second mug and gave its contents a whirl. “What I’m about to tell you, Jordie, will sound impossible. Yet this world of ours is filled with all manner of hidden truths. The least of which we bore witness to only two nights ago.”

“You’re stalling.”

Patrice rolled her eyes. “Fine. The creature you didn’t see? A member of the vanguard for eldritch forces beyond our ken. For centuries they’ve pounded on the barrier between worlds. Set up by our forebears in some forgotten time. And while such knowledge has been lost to history, a thousand human lifetimes is but a mere blink of the eye to them.”

“And how do you stop something like that?”

“Copernicus.” If looks could kill, Patrice would have been lying on the ground next to me. But she prattled on, paying my scepticism no heed. “Surprisingly, he’s a dab hand at Latin. And, he’s had his own brush with the unknown. Knew a few tricks. Like setting up a ward for the creature.”

“You can’t be serious,” I said. “This isn’t Harry Potter, Patrice. Or an urban fantasy story written by a depressed alcoholic wanting to become an author. There’s no such thing as magic.”

“I thought you wanted the truth, Jordan.”

My lower jaw ached from how hard I clenched it as I pushed my frustrations and fears down.

I needed to get out of here. Find Mike. And go back home to where life made sense.

Something terrible had happened during the séance. This I knew with absolute certainty. But everything else Patrice had told me? They had to be lies. Even if they weren’t very good.

Everything sounded too fantastical. Too out of the norm.

Was this to be my punishment? For letting Mike convince me to partake in another of his harebrained schemes? I buried my head in my hands.

“Someone once told me, Jordie dear, that any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. When it came to the ancients, the knowledge they had of the world and the universe beyond it exceeded our own. Just because you don’t understand it, doesn’t mean it’s impossible.”

I looked over at her. Was she really trying sell me on this nonsense again? “So I’m meant to believe Copernicus just waved his hands and said a few silly words to stop the creature?”

“Of course not,” said Patrice, frustration lacing her voice. “He used Words of Power.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” The retort sprung to my lips before I could think better of it.

“It means you can keep going on with your life with nary a thought in your head once you’ve recovered,” snapped Patrice. “It means the creature has been successfully subdued, if not quite banished.”

“What about Mike?”

“What about him?”

In her response, I felt a sudden chill go down my spine. “We have plans to bring him back, right? After all, a person doesn’t just vanish into thin air, right?”

“Afraid it’s out of my hands,” Patrice answered primly. She reached for her knitting. “Copernicus was crystal clear when he ordered us to forget the events of the séance. He warned us not to speak of it with anyone. Madam Xanthe was also ordered to leave the house to be condemned. Lest we accidentally let loose the creature.”

“And you listened?” I all but screeched. The urge to throw something – anything – was all consuming.

None of this was real. None of it could be real.

“What would you have done then, Jordie?”

With what strength I had, I managed to push myself from the bed and into an upright position. Anger was a much better motivator than I’d given it credit for. I opened my mouth, ready to shout.

Before I could, Patrice was at my side, fluffing up the pillows so they could prop me up better. I tried to wave her away but she was just as stubborn as I was. Probably even more so.

It deflated what energy I had.

A sullen silence descended over us.

“Mike is still out there,” I finally said after several minutes.

“Jordie, I don’t think—”

“If he’s dead, where’s the body? No. Something must have happened. He must have slipped through this portal you talked about. So, all we need to do is open it up again. Send the creature through. And Mike will be returned.”

Patrice looked ready to argue. She opened her mouth, retort on her tongue. I could see it in her eyes. But she closed her mouth and shook her head. “I can tell you’re a stubborn lad.” She let out a sigh. “Fine. We do it your way.”

Humanity’s Legacy

On March 5, 2026January 20, 2026 By kyndarisLeave a comment

If humans were to be wiped from the Earth tomorrow, what would be its legacy? Would we be judged for the senseless violence mete out against foreign nations due to the perceived need for land and resources? Or will our virtuous charitable deeds paint the story of a heroic race of do-gooders willing to set aside self-interest for the greater good? Looking across history, it’s hard for me to believe the latter is how we will be remembered. Yet Stellar Blade seems to argue that humanity is still worth saving in spite of this.

As a self-described misanthrope, I have always struggled to see what much of our media calls ‘humanity’ in the actions of others. Where is the kindness and benevolence that we ascribe as the quintessential element of humans in what is currently happening in the world?

No. We are fast approaching a dystopian nightmare where authoritarian regimes reign supreme. And it is for this very reason I could not continue with Papers, Please – a bureacratic roguelike that highlights the bleak nature of living in such a world.

But back to Stellar Blade.

Releasing in April 2024, Stellar Blade was the first console game for Korean game devloper: Shift Up. Published by Sony Interactive, the game garnered much attention. Especially among the action-adventure audience who liked their games with a tinge of Soulslike combat with a focus on parrying attacks and ruthlessly respawning enemies as soon as you hit a rest area. There was, as well, the EVE factor with the main protagonist looking VERY conventionally attractive with some very impressive assets (and the option to change her outfit to flaunt off her enviable physique).

Then, of course, there was the ‘controversy.’ Something which I avoided because it felt like it was making a mountain out of a mole hill. Besides, I had too many video games to get to. And even now I’m still desperately playing catch-up (although I believe the developers are now embroiled in some new hot water relating to AI).

After all, for every Stellar Blade there is a Star Wars Outlaws. And I also need to make my way through Dragon Age: Veilguard. Don’t even get me STARTED on Metaphor Re: Fantazio! Despite all these titles still in my backlog, at time of writing, I’m still wondering if Legends of Heroes: Trails Beyond the Horizon will ever grace the Nintendo or PlayStation store in Australia. So, you know, priorities.

The only thing that truly drew my ire when it came to the game? How Stellar Blade fumbled its narrative in the end. But we’ll get to that in time.

The narrative casts you in the strapping high heels of EVE – a member of the 7th Airborne Squad, which is an elite unit hoping to liberate the Earth from the grip of the alien-like Naytibas. Unlike most video game protagonists, she does not sport an American accent. Rather, EVE is deliciously British. And while she does not have the natural charisma of Bayonetta, I do feel like the Umbra Witch very much influenced EVE’s design.

Following their disastrous initial assault, where all her squad members are killed, including Tachy, her commanding officer (and who, in my headcanon was in a relationship with our slightly less than competent and naive protagonist). Before she can succumb to her own wounds, EVE is rescued by Adam – a human scavenger left behind on Earth after the ‘Final War.’ The two decide to work together, with EVE assisting Adam retrieve a Hyper Cell from the ruins of Eidos 7.

After retrieving the pwer source, and uncovering another fellow Airborne member in the form of Lily (would it have been more on the nose if she had been named Lilith instead?), Adam takes the two to Xion (which I kept pronouncing the Kingdom Hearts way. But which the game would have me believe is pronounced ‘Zion’ like the last human city in the Matrix trilogy), a bastion for the surviving humans on Earth.

It is here they meet Orcal, the city’s leader and supposed prophet. Unlike most of the other humans in Xion, he is more machine than human. In exchange of the Hyper Cell, Orcal informs EVE that in order for her to complete her mission to kill the Elder Naytiba, she must collect four cores from Alpha Naytibas. This would create a key granting her entry to the Naytiba nest where the Elder Naytiba resides.

Cue the structured narrative where EVE is forced to go on numerous fetch quests to complete her task.

While the main narrative was primarily focused on collecting Hyper Cells and Alpha Cores, the side quests were where the citizens of Xion were humanised even though it became increasingly obvious they weren’t exactly organic. From the masks worn by the guards to Enya’s admittedly robotic frame and body. Then, there was EVE’s discussion with Digg2r where he opines on what it means to have a soul and the nature of sentience when it comes to artificial beings.

Themes which, of course, were tackled earlier in works of NieR: Automata. Admittedly, I have not played the title but I’ve seen enough video breakdowns and read enough internet dissertations to understand Stellar Blade doesn’t quite reach the same heights in terms of its world-building and atmosphere of a post-apocalyptic world.

This was especially prevalent during EVE’s confrontation with Raven and Adam’s ‘villain’ monologue at the end. Let’s start with Raven, shall we?

Throughout EVE’s quest to collect Alpha Cores, she stumbles upon Legacies left behind by the 2nd Airborne Squad. In it, Raven reveals the truth of the humans: they are androids who sought to replace the existing humans. In order to ensure their survival, humans dabbled with methods to enhance speed up their evolution and find a means to fight back, resulting in the creation of Naytibas.

Raven, having been driven insane by this knowledge, defects to the Elder Naytiba’s side. Unfortunately, he does not see her as a worthy specimen to join up with and instead intends to fuse witih EVE to create a new human race (how this actually works isn’t exactly explained well. Nor does the game really make Adam truly empathetic during this moment as he talks about past regrets but doesn’t provide enough context or time for EVE, or the player character to make their decision). Her final fight reads like a jealousy-filled rage. If Bechdel tests could be applied to actual characters, Raven would have failed miserably.

Honestly, if they had made the penultimate boss a fight with a corrupted Tachy (especially with her personal connections to EVE), it would have felt more bittersweet. While they DO bring Tachy back for the second Alpha Naytiba fight, it would have been better from a narrative plotbeat if her and EVE fought over ideological differences. Plus, you know, my own personal headcanon where they might have been romantically entangled.

Then, of course, there was Adam, revealed as the Elder Naytiba in disguise. And though allusions are made to his actual identity, it would have been better in the final confrontation if Adam had provided more of a exposition lore dump and admitted he was actually Raphael Marks (rather than it be explained through his database entry).

Then his whole plan was to fuse with EVE because the Andro-Eidos and Naytibas could not coexist? What does that even actually achieve? Where did Adam even go? Is he a disembodied voice in EVE’s head? Can Andro-Eidos even procreate? If not, how does it even further the human race?

Honestly, the decision to refuse his offer and return to the Colony made more sense from a narrative and character standpoint as it showed EVE was sceptical of the ‘truth’ she had been fed and was searching for answers. A sequel could have seen EVE fight against Mother Sphere or finding a means to preserve humanity’s legacy.

That said, one can clearly see Mother Sphere was DEFINITELY created by a man. For, if the Andro-Eidos can’t procreate and Mother Sphere just creates all the ‘humans,’ there is absolutely no need to design any of the Airborne Squads in the way they look in the game. But also, Mother Sphere’s preferred form is a lolita-esque girl? Please. Raphael Marks, your terrible tastes are showing.

Gameplay-wise, Stellar Blade is flashy and polished. But though some of its mechanics could be described as Soulslike, the game also included numerous difficulty options and had accessibility options that made certain activities funner. What threw me, though, was the fact EVE’s ponytail could only be changed in the Options menu rather than be a choice when she gets it styled at the hair salon in Xion.

While the combat did have its moments, I found the introductions of ultimate attacks by the last few bosses the most egregious to avoid (mostly because I always seemed to be low on ammo for the drone-gun and the fact auto-aim usually kept it aimed at the main body of the boss rather than on the orbs I needed to shoot at to interrupt their attack within the time limit). Still, the provision of Water Pumps to instantly revive was a life-saver to keep EVE pushing through until the end.

I also enjoyed the fishing, once I’d set up the accessibility options to make it easier, and found it relaxing. My main gripe with the gameplay was how floaty the platforming could be as even though EVE was at a height where she could grab the lip of a platform, she would not do so until I found the double-jump. This, obviously, meant I had to return to maps to ensure I managed to grab all the collectibles (in the end, though, I still missed ONE camp – presumably in the Desert), which was somewhat irritating.

Despite the terrible endings to Stellar Blade, I still enjoyed my time with the game. I suppose what made the ending to Stellar Blade worse was that I could see where they were going but they didn’t quite nail the execution. In fact, I would have preferred if there was a little more game where EVE could have come to her own decision instead of having Adam present her an ultimatum because the developers ran out of time to have it reach a more natural conclusion.

On a side note, I would have also liked it if Raven and Lily had changed names as the game was clearly trying to stress its biblical creation metaphor.

While I’m not sure the direction a sequel might go, the developers might have suffered a blow to its reputation by trying to push generative AI usage. But we shall see! At the very least, I hope they’re able to provide a more satisfying conclusion to whatever future game they develop.