Xxinzæe lė Gheillră~the Majique Realm

Introduction

Xxinzæe lė Gheillră~the Majique Realm, the works of Winifred Brook Ashbridge, had been the only source of sanity keeping her going these last several years while working at the commissioner’s estate. The long retired commissioner Alex Westmoreland, from by gone years. He was a native from the sleepy little farmland town of Henderson; not anctually a town really; but outside of other town-like places, Ingleside and Barclay, Maryland—on the border of Marydel (the border town between Maryland and Delaware marked by a gas station with a store inside and four roads intersection with a traffic light on the corner of the church where huge bucks liked to surprise drivers).

Alex Westmoreland, how best to look upon the now former employer? An ornery, scrappy man whom Daphne had had the ‘pleasure’ of serving as grounds keeper? And whatever other extra tasks the demented bigot demanded with barks and expletives…. Some biting angry adjectives sprang to her mind as those questions loomed 

“Now now,” Daphne said aloud to the dusty room, “do not speak ill of the dead.”

The estate was being donated to Alex Westmoreland’s Amish friends, which, in Daphne’s mind was the one endearing detail she could think of about her former employer. The only twist was, Alex Westmoreland had not bothered to leave her with any provisions should something have happened to him during her ‘indentured servitude’ to him. 

Alex Westmoreland had not planned on checking out. His hunting trip and the three day camp out had not been recommended by his doctor. 

Daphne turned back to her phone to study her favorite source of escape— the internet website dedicated to the magic world of W B Ashbridge, the late renowned author known for the famous literary sci/fi tales from the 1920’s and whose cult following was of a particular select few. There were sorcerers and mystical prophesies with complex riddles connected with cultural legends in the world of Xxinzæe lė Gheillră~ the magic Realm 

Even as this was really not a good use of her time, Daphne knew, instead, she should be using all her time on finding where she was going to live now that her employer had suddenly and unexpectedly met his death on his last hunting trip. Of course there were still details to take care of, her own relinquishing of paperwork and keys to the property’s new owners, rather awkward changing of hands as mediator between the Amish and the electrical transmitted information that needed to be relayed to them at times. But soon, even this small task would be defunct once everything was processed. 

Daphne had reached out to relatives asking if they knew anywhere she might stay while she looked for her next situation. While they were all encouraging, nobody had any useful resources. It was hard to think positive after several days of searches and stooping even to the National Craige’s List for every state and random searches for anything…. there was nothing that seemed lucrative never mind legit or safe so panic was starting to build for Daphne on ideas of where to go. 

This was why the escape to the magic realm had become her ‘go to’ as it helped her to forget her anxiety; every day she would spend hours signing onto the website and involving herself in a puzzle, an article or an ‘adventure maze’, it helped get her mind off her problems and focus her mind on other things. 

Admittedly, recently, she had been spending perhaps too much time on the site. Sometimes writing pages long comments on things posted because she often noticed errors in things that were posted. It’s not that she pretended or wanted to be an expert on W B Ashbridge, it was more that she wanted to make sure what was being posted was accurate about her personal role model heroine. She’d been a fan of the literature since she had first heard of the works as a teen, long after the author had lived, of course, but this did not keep the life of the person vibrantly alive in Daphne’s young thoughts growing up. 

Today she desperately needed the safety the feeling of visiting the site gave her, with its familiar maps and its familiar characters to explore and discuss or what morals came from the adventures to explore —anything to get her mind off of the misery of fruitless clicks on webpages to find a place to go and a means. 

But no!!!

      —oh dear! 

What’s happened?!?! 

When she reaches the website a terrible message comes up: WEBsite indefinitely down!!!!

“Oh what the …..” at which point Daphne stood up and stared at her phone, “no no no no no!!!!” 

It seemed the news was so upsetting she had to pace several times as this hits her. 

And logic does not guide her when she decided trying the site via a laptop hoping that it might give her a better reality. 

“NO!!!!” She shouts in horror at her laptop screen

An Amish voice from another room at this point is heard from below and shouting up asks if she’s ok

“Uhhh—just fine—just a mammoth spider ….” and sunk back into the chair she had just jumped out of

Without much thought, more automatically, she opened her emails but without bothering to look. She only stared vacantly at nothing out the window. Or rather she stared at a herd of deer peacefully eating grass without fear of being hunted.

Daphne stared at them a long while with this very thought and a vague sense of freedom 

Had she looked at her screen with the emails, she’d have seen an email from the Winifred Brook Ashbridge foundation…. asking her for help.

But she didn’t look at the screen and shut the laptop, her mind rebounding to anxiety over options for her circumstances. It would not be until later, after other emails piled up on top of that one and —hours of packing up dusty belongings of Alex Westmoreland before it would even occur to her to check her emails.

That would not happen until much later and late that night