BREX

BREX was my first experience writing fiction. The episodic adventure began as a sandbox for me to play and practice in. I learned many things and quickly came to love the process. The story is not complete and may never be, but I want to share it anyway. It’s a fun world with characters I am very fond of. I had a great time; I hope you enjoy it too.

My current project (as of writing this) is a practice webcomic which may never be finished either, but you can check it out here: Any Here Now.

Episode Quick-links

Introduction

Aborek, Land of Adventure

I spent about 1.5 years (2023-2025) world-building Aborek and writing within it. The first story that takes place in this world is called BREX (BRave EXplorers). The following is the first image I ever created for the story. It started as a random illustration inspired by the nomadic jumping spiders on my window sill, but I really liked the idea and kept coming back to it for many months before beginning to develop it.

BREX is a fantasy story about the seed-focused adventures of young adult Milo and his giant pet jumping spider Brex. They live in a land of giants, dwarves, and midlings. Long ago a massive meteor shower (known as The Shower of Life) caused terrible damage to the civilizations of Aborek, but introduced an element that imparted a new energy into the world. There’s all kinds of fascinating plants and creatures. Here is my first map of Aborek and a cleaned up version of it. I created it with Mappa Imperium, a world-building game/process.

A Place to Call Home

With BREX I learned to write fiction for the first time; I faced many challenges and learned valuable solutions. This project initially began as a story machine to generate content for my illustrations. A few years ago generating ideas was one of my biggest challenges. It may be related to the fact that I can’t visualize (I’ve got aphantasia); I’ve never had a bunch of stories in my head waiting to be told; my default creative state is rather blank; so I’ve had to create various frameworks and systems to spark my creativity.

I was also getting frustrated that all my illustrations, sketches, and projects were so random and disconnected. I would look back at all the stuff I had created, and though it was fun and interesting, it wasn’t going in any particular direction. I was spending lots of energy flailing my arms around in the water getting stronger, but going nowhere. I longed for my work to have context, to belong somewhere, to build something. As this frustration was building so were my thoughts about Aborek. BREX became a home for the many disparate creative ideas and interests I’ve had: storytelling, art, music, nature, fantasy, role-playing, epic abstract design.

I began the pilot not knowing where it would lead. I was committed to creating something at my current level instead of worry about being good enough; I knew that I would improve over time as I did the thing I wanted to do. I began in a comic format, but ultimately decided to keep the written story and images separate; this is largely due to my focus on creating story content for my illustrations. Figuring out comic layouts was another layer of complexity I wasn’t interested in at the time. I do know that when done well, comics can beautifully combine text with images, but truly in my heart I don’t like a bunch of speech bubbles mucking up my pictures XD.

I love to work rough and I enjoy sketchy art. I chose pencil on paper for its simplicity.

Here is the pilot. I never got it past the rough phase before moving on to the next episodes (and I happen to have misplaced my original pages!). I created a cover image and called it done. After the pilot the text and images are separate. My apologies for the messy hand-writing; this wasn’t intended to be final. (Keep in mind this is practically my first attempt ever at comics; I barely ever read any comics; I was bedazzled by the concepts in the book Understanding Comics; I’ve got lots to learn). Enjoy!

Pilot – Adventure Calls

Another element I decided to weave into my story is music. I love to listen to and create music. Whenever there is reference to music in my story I want the reader to hear it; so I am actually writing and recording songs to accompany the story. Here’s the tune referenced at the beginning of the pilot episode.

Curious Cheer – Brex

It felt so good to finish the intro. Things got much more difficult from here as I tackled the meaty challenges of writing fiction, characters, plot, and scenes, and all sorts of visual design 😉

Episode 1 – Rescuing Tumelo

“Urgent! Bandits east of silver plains. Come at once. -Shep,” whispered the bladehopper in Milo’s ear. Milo and Brex raced through the town, down the paths, and over the hills keeping west of the cliffs. As they approached the plains, the white dots of Shep’s flock appeared in the distance as the orange sky closed the day.

A hearty hug and a few muffins later and Milo was up to speed on the stolen seeds and the band of thieves. “Mostly giants, but a few little fellows,” gruffed Shep. “Looks like they bagged a hostage.”

“Why rob the fortress of such a simple item if not to fetch a pretty sum?” Milo mused by the fire.

“Whatever the purpose, this band is the likely culprit.” Shep

“We can leave the flock in Brex’s trusty care. Let’s gain some . . . insight,” said Milo, Shep grinning in agreement.

· · ·

From the crescent mouth of the cave glowed a faint light and echoed the impatient grumblings and muffled outbursts of the hidden mob. “What did you see!?” “Who took them?” “How many were there?” the voices pounded.

“I don’t know,” sobbed a weaker reply, “But take your grimy fingers off my head!” he shot back.

“But you must know who took the seeds! You were present during the . . . collection,” buffed a raspy voice.

“Only hiding in a crate,” he whimpered on.

“What shiny gold hair you have,” uttered the dwarf with a dark glee.

“Unhand that precious lock!” <ploik!> “Ouch! My beauty . . .”

“Oh! Come now . . . our honourable client has much need of the seeds and has curated a lovely bounty for their apprehension,” fluctuating between gentle and forceful tones. “If you won’t talk, perhaps your fancy key will unlock your tongue.”

The prisoner errupted into the greatest display of resistence yet calling down every curse he could wring from time immemorial. And so the evening marched on: threatening and pleading, plucking and cursing.

“He’ll be bald before long,” said Shep.

“Couldn’t we help loose this sorry lad?” whispered Milo.

“Appears mostly unharmed, but for that precious hair,” muttered Shep. “But not for long.”

· · ·

The fire had gone cold. As the band slumbered, Brex planted a binding vine in the middle of the cave. Thick vines shot out in every direction binding everything in its path. Soon the space was filled with tangles of green, and the thieves were held tightly in their sleep. Brex wrapped the sleeping prisoner in a pocket of silk and Shep hoisted him up to the ceiling.

 “Gentle,” whispered Milo as the body swung over the bound villains.

Waking from the commotion the man began to shout in fear.

“We forgot to wrap his mouth!” grumbled Shep.

All around, the scoundrels big and small roused from sleep. An angry murmering grew, “What’s all this?! Vines? He’s flying!”

“Time to go!” yelled Shep, yanking the man forcefully through the air.

The man swung helplessly towards the exit screaming in terror as the villains broke loose from their hold. Objects flew from every direction with the flying prisoner as their target.

“Get that pretty-boy!” yelled the leader, still bound.

Shep made it to the entrance with the man over his shoulder, and Milo sprang the trap sealing the cave with a crash!

· · ·

Safe at last, they loosed the prisoner from his cocoon.

“Those slimy peasants! I could knock them all off!! but, Oh, so hungry . . .” grumbled the prisoner.

Shep shared some stew with the man as they travelled. “Thank you!” he rejoiced as he scarfed down the meal.

“My name is Tumelo. The thieves held me for two days feeding me only mouldy bread. I was in the archive when the seeds were stolen. There were two that moved through the fortress like shadows. I only saw through the cracks, but I knew it could only be the ‘Silent Scintillas.’ But that slimy troup! I must retrieve my key.”

“Woah, woah, woah! You don’t want to go back there,” said Shep sternly.

“What choice do I have? That key is my only hope.”

“You’d die for a key!?”

“I must.”

“Oh! Come on!” sighed Shep in resignation.

“What kind of seeds?” asked Milo.

“The fortress guard has been very hushed about it. It’s called a ‘Bolting Thunder.’ It grows hard like stone. In extreme heat it shoots up like a bolt shaking the earth!” exclaimed Tumelo launching his fist into the air. “But that’s rarely been observed. Certainly the thieves will have moved on by tonight. I’ll get my key then.”

“Why is that key so important to you?” Milo probed.

“That’s for me to know . . . it’s my life. I will say, those ruffians were serious about getting those seeds. A certain Mister has set a handsome bounty for their acquisition. You might consider trying your luck at hunting them down yourselves. I’m sure it would be lucrative.”

“We’re not that type,” said Shep irritated.

The sun began to set. “Dusk at last,” sighed Tumelo. “Thanks again, boys. Really, I owe you,” and he marched into the night.

“Don’t expect to see him again,” said Shep in a lighter tone. “The sheep are on edge; I’ll be moving on till the area calms down.”

“Always a pleasure, Shep,” said Milo. “I think I’ll head to the academy to learn more about those seeds.”

“Give my best to ‘You-know-who.'” Shep blushed as he pulled a small golden flower from his pack.

“The professor will be pleased to hear from an old friend,” smirked Milo. “But first, I’ve got some business to tend to.”

· · ·

(Tumelo stalked into the silent cave, no one in sight. His key still hung neatly on the column. “My precious . . . ” As he reached for the key, a voice rumbled from the shadows, “I thought you’d be back.”)

Episode 2 – Silent Scintillas

Brex hunted fire flies in the tall grass as the night sky glimmered with distant places. Milo dotted in the final stars of his painting. “It’s almost ready,” said Milo as he took another glimpse of his friend’s favourite constellation from the grassy hill. “I know she’ll like this one; we’ll have to deliver it tonight; tomorrow is her birthday.” Brex crouched in the grass as a bird flew across the moon.

“What’s that in the distance?” said Milo. “Someone’s coming.”

He soon recognized his dwarven friend. “Oh, nice to see you, Anji,” said Milo nervously hiding the painting.

“Hi Milo, what’s that there?” she asked.

“Well,” said Milo reluctantly, “It’s your birthday present. I was painting that constellation you like so much,” showing her the picture.

“Aww, thanks, Milo. It’s beautiful.”

“What brings you out here? Is everything alright?” asked Milo.

“Not so great. I lost another falcon today, Lucy. I’ve searched, but I haven’t found her yet. I was training with her out here this morning and thought she might return.”

“Oh, really. Maybe that was Lucy that just flew by,” said Milo.

“Really?! She’s supposed to come when I call. Kzkzuu! Kzkzah!” yelled Anji a few times. Again the form of a bird swooped past the moon. “Ooh! That looks like her!” Excited Anji lifted her falconer glove giving another call. Brex remained under cover.

Lucy flew away right into the dark forest. “Oh!” said Anji disappointed. “She’s still a young falcon. She shouldn’t be in the forest at night. She might not survive. Father will be so disappointed if I lose another falcon. I have to go get her.”

“Uh! It’s not a great idea to go into the forest at night alone,” urged Milo. “Why don’t you return at first light?”

“What? And suffer another month of Father’s disapproval? I can handle this!” barked Anji.

“Well . . . give me a second to pack and I’ll go with you,” said Milo as Brex fidgeted nervously.

“Thanks, but I don’t need a babysitter,” scoffed Anji as she marched toward the forest.

“That stubbon girl,” muttered Milo. “Anji is a big girl; she can handle herself,” mocked Milo trying to persuade his conscience as he packed his bag. Frustrated he grabbed the painting and shoved it into his pack; but hesitating, he pulled it back out for a moment. “I can’t let her go alone; what would her father say, the day before her birthday no less?” Milo set off into the night with Brex on edge.

· · ·

In the forest the thick tangle of branches and vines nearly blocked the stars completely. Milo felt chills as he walked past all manner of shadowy plants that resembled the wild creatures he knew to inhabit the region. Up ahead he could hear Anji gently call, “Kzkzuu. Kzkzah.” Milo tried to keep mental note of how far they had gone. Though he was accustomed to dense wilderness, he didn’t often lurk in the dark as the danger increases dramatically when the night creatures begin to hunt.

“I think she’s found her,” whispered Milo, pausing. “Oh no! She’s trying to climb the tree.” “Anji!” he called out. She gave a quick scream as she dropped from the first branch she had mounted.

“Why you! I thought I heard someone back there. I could have broken my neck!” she shot out at him.

“Please, let me go up for you,” argued Milo.

Milo began ascending the tree only to find Anji right on his heels. “Heh,” Milo sighed. He could see Lucy perched about halfway up the tree. Anji persisted in calling, but the falcon ignored her pleas. Finally Milo and Anji were as close as they could get, but Lucy was still out of reach. “Here Lucy,” said Milo gently, “Kzkzuu. Kzkzah,” as he reached out to the bird. “Uh! Ah! Grab onto something, Anji,” said Milo as he lost his balance. Beginning to fall Milo lunged for the bird. Anji yelled in fear as Milo plummeted through the branches crashing onto the massive tree below them. Anji climbed down onto the tree as quickly as she could, but Milo was nowhere to be seen.

“Down here,” heard Anji as she looked around. Milo’s head popped up through an opening in the tree. “Take a look at this!” said Milo.

Anji crawled inside and Milo lit a lamp.

“Oh Lucy! You saved her!” declared Anji scooping the limp bird from the floor. “What’s all this?” she asked nervously clutching her traumatized bird.

“Looks like a hideout,” said Milo.

To their amazement they found a furnished room, several in fact.

Around the main room was scattered stuffed bags, crates, paintings, garments, and an impressive array of tools and gadgets. Of greatest interest to Milo was a collection of seeds on a simple shelf.

“What have we here?” said Milo quickly drawn to the seeds, some labelled with pictures and others with names. Anji explored the shadows timidly itching her curiosity.

Milo began reading seed labels, “Club Root, Burning Tree, Star Lily . . . wait, this one has the image of . . . a thunder bolt . . .” Milo paused, then spun around, his eyes searching the room for any clue of who the inhabitants might be; on the wall hung a WANTED poster with a sketched image of two shadowy figures and the name, Silent Scintillas.

“Uh oh,” muttered Milo momentarily frozen by fear.

“What’s wrong?” said Anji.

“We’re in the thieves’ den,” hushed Milo. “Brex, keep a watch for any activity outside!”

Anji began to panic, “Thieves? We really should get out of here.”

“But I need to know who’s behind this,” said Milo in a frenzy as he scrambled to search through a pile of papers on the table. “Nothing!” he blurted and began rummaging the chest.

“What are you looking for?” asked Anji.

“Names. Anything. Clues to who wants the seeds.”

Reluctantly Anji joined in the frantic search for who-knows-what. She looked high and low until under a bed she found a worn book. “Could this be useful?” said Anji nervously. She handed Milo the book filled with names, items, and payments.

“Ah! Great find, Anji. These must be clients,” said Milo as he rushed to the end of the records. “One of the last entries . . . ‘Bolting Thunder’ . . . next to the name ‘Kythar.'”

“No way!” declared Anji in shock. “I always knew he was trouble; I have to tell my father. Let’s go, please.”

“Not yet,” said Milo. “Who else is involved?” tension building with every moment. “I can’t believe it,” stated Milo.

“Oh please let’s go.”

“That heirloom necklace Misilla lost . . .”

“Awhwh,” groaned Anji.

“Take a look around,” ordered Milo.

They searched through bags, crates, and piles of stolen goods. “Is this it?” said Anji holding up a glittering piece.

“That looks right,” exclaimed Milo. “Let’s get out of here,” he said as he grabbed a few handfuls of seeds from the shelf throwing them in his bag.

Just before they reached the entrance, Brex dropped in nearly causing the two to scream. He waved his legs indicating that someone was outside.

“Oh no!” cried Anji squeezing Lucy tight.

Milo peaked out of the tree and scanned the area. He just barely recognized the banner of the local fortress. “Hallelujah,” sighed Milo. “It looks like a forest patrol.”

“What are they doing out here?” questioned Anji.

“Looking for a lost girl maybe?” said Milo judgmentally. He stuffed a sack with as many stolen goods as he could carry and the two climbed down rushing after the patrol.

“Halt! Identify yourselves!” ordered a female giant.

“Please! We need your help! We found. Hideout! Scintillas . . .” panted Anji and Milo out of breath.

“What are you doing out here?!” scolded the officer, “This place is crawling with brutes and beasts. You’re lucky to be alive!” She called to her patrol, “Turn back! We have some children to escort.”

“Children!? But please,” pleaded the two, “We found the hideout of the Silent Scintillas. We can prove it!” holding up the stolen goods and record book.

“We’ll have to investigate in the morning once you two are safe,” said the officer grabbing the pack.

· · ·

The next day Milo visited Anji. “Any news, Birthday Girl?” said Milo cheerfully handing Anji the painting.

“Father is so upset with me,” Anji began depressed, Lucy perched nearby.

“No, about the hideout,” Milo interrupted.

“Oh, the guard returned to search early this morning,” explained Anji.

“And?” waited Milo.

“It was empty, except for a black card with a constellation featuring two bright stars.”

Milo gazed at the card in shock; it was the very same constellation Anji loved so much.

“Well, at least they have the book,” said Milo with nervous optimism.

“Somehow it’s gone missing.”

“What!?” exclaimed Milo. “But we just . . . good thing I held onto those seeds and Misilla’s necklace.”

With glazed eyes Anji concluded, “Those Scintillas really are like shooting stars.”

Am I Dreaming?

One of the ideas I had for BREX was to do dream episodes where every few episodes Milo would have a dream. Dreams are influenced by real life, but don’t necessarily affect the real world. I thought it would be neat to have a place to explore moral lessons, fables, parables, or just have more-crazy stuff happen that isn’t bound to following the main narrative. (It could also be neat to have another story that follows the character switching between the waking world and dream world, adventuring, fighting personified inner battles, exploring, etc.). I’m writing them sort of as parallel things that don’t need each other to exist. I could remove all the dream episodes and it shouldn’t affect the reader’s key understanding of the main plot. It’s more like, “Hey! Milo had a dream. Cool.” Moving on. I mean I suppose the dream could influence the waking story, but the plot should be complete without the dream episodes.

The next episode also has music 😊

Episode 3 – Suncertainty

By firelight Milo was enjoying a book written by the ancient philosopher, Zizermuun. “Integrity, the consistency of reality, makes possible reliability. Truth is the only reliable foundation,” read Milo as Brex plucked an inspiring melody in the window on a silk harp.

Certain as the Sun – Brex

Milo loved to read of such things. He thought himself to be a rather reliable fellow.

“Tomorrow I must head to the academy to inquire about those seeds. I really do need to get some sleep,” Milo thought to himself; but he couldn’t seem to put the book down.

“What if the sun was not consistent in rising? No one could rely on it. So true, if we do not conform our minds and actions strictly to reality, to self-consistency, to truth, then we have no basis for integrity and lose all reliability.”

Milo closed the book with much on his mind. Truth is what is real. Had he been consistent? Had he really given himself wholly to honesty, to reality?

“Well, Brex, in the morning let’s get Misilla her necklace before heading for the academy,” said Milo and he crawled into bed.

· · ·

The morning seemed to come sooner than usual. The sun had just hopped above the horizon. Milo knew he needed to get to his client in the next village. He set out on the road. As he traveled the sun seemed to be racing in the sky – “That’s odd,” Milo thought – but by noon it had slowed to a crawl. Milo felt some relief, “Maybe I will reach Marcoon by sunset.”

With the sun beating down on him, Milo stopped under a tree for lunch. As he sat eating he watched the sky quickly turn golden as the sun raced to the horizon. “What?!” said Milo stunned. He walked out from under the tree to find the moon bright in the sky and the stars declaring the night. Milo stood scratching his head. “What is going on?” The sounds of the night creatures had begun. Milo put his food away and resumed his journey looking for the nearest shelther; now he felt rather vulnerable on the road alone. Not far ahead he found a house a little ways off the path. Hoping to stay the night he knocked on the door. A woman peeked through a hole. “Who is it?” spoke a hesitant voice.

“I’m a travellor looking for shelter for the night.”

“Night? Come back when it’s dark,” said the lady.

“But ma’am, it is. The sun has set suddenly,” pressed Milo.

“Oh. My husband is still at work; I’m sorry, but I must turn you away.”

Discouraged and confused Milo continued on in the dark hoping to find an inn or a shack. As he travelled down the road a giant approached from the opposite direction.

“Strange weather we’re having,” the man said as he passed by.

“Sir, do you know what’s up with the sun? Do you know any place I could stay for the night?” asked Milo.

“I guess the sun is in one its moods again,” said the giant. “Never can count it to be there when you need it. You’ll find some houses not too far along.”

Milo carried on till he reached a cluster of large houses. He approached the nearest one and knocked. This time a man came to the door, “Yes?”

“I’m looking for shelter for the . . .,” but before Milo could finish, the sky had begun to lighten.

“It couldn’t have been more than an hour since sunset,” mumbled Milo. “Nevermind, sir,” he said and walked away.

Determined to make progress in the day he marched down the path quickly; he did not stop to speak to any other travellers. After what seemed to be half a day of hustling, Milo realized that the sun still had not risen above the tree line. “Well, I don’t know how much time I have,” and he pressed on. He had charged through a short marathon, and now was feeling the fatigue of travel. His racing reduced to a bobble and soon to a crawl. It had been countless hours, but still the sun was barely to high noon. Milo could not understand what was going. The sun had always been reliable, but now, there was no way to predict it. The sun’s heat and the lack of rest was taking a toll on Milo; he was exhausted.

He laid down on a grassy hill to rest; he could find no sleep, but persisted in a restless suspense. When Milo opened his eyes after what seemed to be a whole night wasted, he was greeted by the sun still high in the sky. Milo let out a great sigh. Somewhat rested, but groggy, he ate a small meal and pulled himself back onto the trail. His speed was stunted by the heaviness he felt all over, but he dragged onward.

· · ·

Ahead Milo saw a bridge. As he approached, the sun raced to the finish. By the time he reached the crossing the moon was reflecting in the rushing water below; as he crossed the bridge looking up, all of heaven seemed to race with shooting stars, the sky moving with such speed. Before he could step off the bridge, the sun was rising again. Milo paused shaking his head in confusion, “If the sun can’t be counted on, what can?” Before he continued the sun had already passed noon. Milo took a few steps before he heard the rumble of wheels on the bridge behind him. He turned to see a wagon rolling his way.

“Oh sir! Are you going to Marcoon?” blurted Milo.

“Not quite, but I’m headed in that direction,” said the stoic giant.

“Could I please catch a ride? I feel like I’ve been walking for days.”

“Well, this seat is taken by my furry friend, but you can hop in the back.”

Milo thanked him greatly, but when he got to the back of the wagon he found a great pile of stones.

Milo let out another great sigh and then climbed up onto the most uncomfortable bed he’d ever laid upon. There were no comfortable positions on this ride. Every bump, every dip in the path was felt sorely by Milo. Exhausted he set his head on his pack and tried to refresh his eyes, even if his body could find no rest. He seemed only to blink, but when he opened his eyes the sky again was full of stars.

Milo found himself thinking out lou­d, “When the surest thing around cannot be counted on, what can we be sure about?”

“Well,” said the man from up front, “One thing that never changes is truth. Though it seems we are experiencing a slight shift in reality, the great Creator is beyond the cycles of light and dark. You can count on Him.”

Milo questioned, “But if the basics of reality can’t be relied on, how can we trust the one Who created them?”

“My friend, though the world were to vanish in a ball of flame, the Creator will never change. If you would be found realiable, then be consistent, have integrity, speak the truth in your heart and to your neighbour, and you will please God and reflect His faithfulness to this shifting world.”

Milo gazed up at the stars, as the wagon rattled along. The advice of the man echoed through his mind, “The Creator will never change. One thing. Truth. Never change. Creator. Faithful. Change. Integrity. Creator.” His mind slipped away into an empty place as it seemed reality itself began to shake.

· · ·

Slowly the world brightened and Milo’s eyes opened to find Brex on his chest bouncing up and down.

“Oh! Marcoon! What time is it?!” Milo panicked as he rushed to the window searching for the sky. The sun was halfway to noon.

“Aw, thanks, Brex,” said Milo yawning. “I slept in. I guess the sun has been faithful. It’s me who got a bit lost.” Milo looked at the philosopher’s book as memories of the wise giant lingered in his mind, “Truth. All may change, but the Creator, He never changes.”

Episode 4 – Misilla’s Shop

“Misilla!” Milo called out as he wandered the quiet shop waiting for a reply. Lenses and optical instruments populated the large shelves among a variety of curious plants. The room was well illuminated by the beautiful pane glass window and various colourful lamps. “Oh Hi, Rupert,” said Milo to the quick little creature that greeted them with a strange friendly growl. Brex felt safer lurking in the rafters. From the back of the shop a rich voice sounded as a giant elder appeared through a doorway, “Well, well! My little adventurer! What brings you here today?”

“You’ll be happy about this, Misilla,” said Milo reaching into his pack.

The sparkle in Misilla’s eye shone through her glasses as she grinned inquisitively.

“Look what I found,” said Milo holding up her mother’s necklace with a smile.

“Milo! How did you . . . ? Where?” replied Misilla breathlessly.

“I found it in . . . let’s just say the Silent Scintillas don’t have it anymore; I’m happy to return it,” said Milo.

“Your reputation goes before and behind,” said Misilla turning the necklace lovingly in careful examination. “Wait here,” she said disappearing through a doorway; soon emerging again she handed Milo a pair of black glasses.

“What’s this?” asked Milo.

“Put them on,” Misilla instructed gently. “Now look at the necklace.”

“Woah!” Milo was astonished to see the stones in the necklace glow like stars in the night sky. “What are they?” asked Milo.

“You’ve heard of the Stones of Life?” said Misilla.

“Who hasn’t?” said Milo.

“Well . . .” replied Misilla.

“Wow! I’ve never seen them up close like this; they’re beautiful.”

“Very few people have these days. They’re a rare commodity.” Misilla shared, “When I was young they were more prevalent. They were once abundant, but through the ages kings, tyrants, thieves, religious leaders have stored them up, locking them away in hoards. They were a gift from heaven that blessed Aborek, but now they are possessed by a greedy few. Still, their affects can be seen and felt throughout the land.”

Milo asked carefully, “Did you see the Shower of Life?”

“Oh no,” Misilla laughed. “I’m not that old. No, that was quite before my time.” Misilla paused, “Take these; they are my gift for returning this dear treasure; may they offer you a new perspective on the world,” she said with a sparkle.

Milo held the glasses with gratitude.

“And for your little darling,” turning to Brex Misilla opened an ornate box from which flew three small scarabs. The beetles hovered over Brex for a moment sparkling with a beautiful rainbow of light. Alert as always Brex twitched in unease as the scarabs slowly descended onto his back.

“They are very loyal,” said Misilla, “They may come in useful.”

Milo thanked Misilla giving her a giant hug. As he turned to leave Misilla offered a final word of warning, “The Stones of Life are powerful, beautiful, but they attract the most dispicable of forces. Please, be careful.”

And with that Milo began his journey to the academy.

Episode 5 – The Academy

After a few days journey Milo reached the grounds of Azidaf Academy. The grand buildings crouched neatly among the well-groomed landscape. The plants seemed to sing as Milo walked up the familiar path. Milo loved the fresh smell of green as he strided through the open corridors with students rushing about. Making his way to the class of Professor Ozlora, he found it empty. He motioned to a hustling giant, “Excuse me, do you know where I might find Miss Ozlora?”

She quickly replied, “Oh, come with me. I’m late for the garden lecture.”

Milo had to run to keep up with the giant’s hurried pace.

“Now students, take a look at the stem of this vine, right above the fruit,” she instructed pointing with an ornate handfan.

The tardy giant tip-toed into the garden. “You’d better have a good reason my dear,” said the seasoned professor.

“I brought you a guest,” the student blushed timidly.

Milo trotted into the edible paradise a moment after the giant.

“Oh Milo,” the professor stated pleasantly.

Milo greeted her with a broad wave still catching his breath. Ozlora excused herself from the class after giving the giant a stern warning.

“It is good to see you my young pupil,” said Ozlora.

“Likewise, Professor. I hope you’re well. I have come for some research.”

“Yes?”

“What do you know about Bolting Thunder?”

“That . . . I’ve not heard that name in some time. I recall it’s a tree, dense. That is a bit beyond my foraging expertise. Professor Wellin is the most knowledgeable arborist on campus; but, of course, you would remember him; he’s just down the hall.” As the two made their way, Ozlora probed lightly, “Have you had any recent dealings with a certain shepherd?” she asked with a hidden grin.

Milo smiled and stopped for a moment. Reaching into his bag he pulled out the small golden flower. “A gift,” he said with that same smirk. She read the attached note with a blush, “A fraction of your beauty.” The two carried on.

“Oh,” she said disappointed, “It appears Professor Wellin is absent for the day. Well, the next best place to inquire would be the library. It was a pleasure to see you again, but I really must be getting back to my other students; please stop by my classroom before you leave.” Ozlora marched back to the garden as Milo wandered on to the library.

· · ·

“Hey! No kissing in my library!” shouted a raspy voice, “This ain’t a place for that kind of learning!” Two embarrassed giants ran past Milo as he walked into the massive room. “Ah, knowledge,” thought Milo wistfully as he gazed up at the expanse of ornate shelves bathing in the afternoon sun. As his eyes drifted downward past centuries of knowledge he noticed a dwarf with fiery red pants disappearing around a corner. “Sir, are you the librarian?!” he called out running after him.

Around the corner he was met with a loud scolding and a thick stumpy finger pointing up his nose, “No yelling in the library!”

Milo issued a quick apology and the man turned away.

“Sir,” pressed Milo following him down the aisle, “I was wondering if you could help me find some information.” The middle-aged dwarf pushed a cart unloading books onto shelves as he went barely acknowledging Milo’s pursuit.

“Sir,” Milo urged, “you are the librarian?”

“Grithim,” the dwarf barked back.

“I beg your par . . .”

“The name’s Grithim,” he said pausing impatiently to look at Milo. “So you want something?”

“Yes, I’ve come to learn about a tree.”

The man sighed. “So it’s trees you want — the crazy things,” he mumbled to himself. “What kind?”

“Bolting Thunder,” said Milo directly.

Grithim paused, “Never heard of it,” and he walked away abruptly.

Lost for words Milo hurried after him. Turning the corner he found the dwarf at the great wheel of records. “Bolsiderra, Booming Brancher, Bonnie’s Whelp . . . ah!” said the librarian with a surprising gladness, “Bolting Thunder. There should be a record in section 4F, shelf 37/29.” And he marched off. Milo followed him through the labyrinth of knowledge certain to keep his thoughts to himself.

The dwarf seemed to soften a touch, “So what do you want to know about this tree? Is it for some school project?”

“Oh, well, no, not really,” Milo spoke in staccato.

“Here we are,” said Grithim pulling a ladder to a certain place.

“You don’t look familiar,” he called down as he ascended, “Are you a new student?”

“Not exactly,” Milo replied, “More of a returning graduate. I don’t remember you from my time here. Is Dadum no longer on staff?”

“No, I’m his replacement.” Grithim descended with a book. “Here, you should find some information in there about your thunder tree. Let me know if you need anything else.”

Before Milo could say anything more the dwarf was nearly out of sight. Milo called out a quick, “Thank you!”

· · ·

Brex pounced from shelf to shelf exploring the vast area and Milo settled into a familiar nook and cracked open the old volume, Volcanoes: History and Habitat.

“Volcanoes? My, what an interesting place to learn about trees,” Milo thought to himself.

“Chapter 1. Volcanoes play a significant role in the history of Aborek. Many of the islands result from volcanic activity. Volcanoes are also the source and focus of Shartai, god of the volcano. Long ago the inhabitants of the northern mainland worshipped this being, which legend tells us was a massive Glassweaver. ‘I wonder what that is,’ Temples of Shartai are still scattered around Aborek where worshippers gather to seek and share ancient knowledge; of special interest among them is the art of glassweaving.

“I’ve heard that name before, but I didn’t realize Shartai was so central to the north’s history. The Realm of Glassweavers does produce the finest glassware in Aborek. What about habitat?” questioned Milo. “Let’s see . . .”

“Chapter 2. Various creatures and plants thrive in active and sub-active volcanic regions . . . Bolting Thunder! ‘Here we go,’ Arbolus Thunderus mostly populates volcanic regions. In moderate temperatures it grows slowly, but direct contact with lava ignites a violent speed of growth which shakes the earth akin to a thunder bolt. Inversely the tree weakens in cooler temperatures, becoming brittle and fractured in the cold. The stone-like wood of the tree is impervious to burning or melting making it one of the few materials suitable for direct contact with lava. This has led to various applications in fiery conditions.”

“What in Aborek would Kythar want with a fiery rock tree?” Milo wondered.

“Glassweaver . . . cool! Hey, Brex, hear this,” said Milo enthused, “. . . glassweaver is a volcanic spider that weaves molten crystal. Woah!” Milo looked around with a smile, but Brex was out of sight. “Oh, never mind,” he said to himself and continued reading. “Is there nothing more specific about what Bolting Thunder might be used for?” Milo scanned the pages, “Fiery berries, sharded bark, chains . . . what could Kythar be planning?”

“Volcanoes are known to attract a variety of fiery beasts which bathe in the burning pools. . . . Where other materials would be consumed by the heat, Bolting Thunder can provide durable structure in the formation of w__alls, buildings, bridges, etc.”

“I don’t know what to think of all this,” thought Milo. He stood up and began searching the horizon for Brex. Turning around Milo spotted Brex in the distance racing towards him bouncing feverishly. “What’s the matter?!” called out Milo. From behind a shelf emerged a huge spider-creature chasing Brex. “Oh common on,” sighed Milo unimpressed, “An azacliar.” Milo hurried down from his spot jumping across shelves. “Grithim!” yelled Milo repeatedly as Brex caught up to him, “Azacliar!”

As they closed in on the library entrance, the dwarf jumped out from the side with a heavy whip in hand. As the azacliar closed in Grithim cracked a few painful blows before the creature limped away up and over a shelf.

“How did he get in here?” grumbled Grithim. “I’ll have to dispatch pest control to clean up any other beasties. And you!” he growled at Milo, “Don’t be causing any more trouble.”

Milo gave Brex a stern glare, “Disturbing the monsters again, Hmm? The next time you steal someone’s flies, be a little more subtle.” Brex slowly wiped the guilt from his mouth.

“Well, I guess I’ve learned what I can for now.” Milo returned the book and headed to see the professor.

· · ·

Ozlora was at her desk. “Milo, thank you for coming. I hope you found what you were looking for.”

“Well, hopefully it will be useful,” said Milo.

Ozlora replied, “Now I have a request to make. The students have been numerous in recent years; they are a delight – though none have nearly the curiosity I found in you. Certain seeds are scarce; acquiring them can be difficult and time-consuming, but they would be so educational for my students. An old friend has a rare plant capable of reproducing the seeds of other plants bypassing the growth cycle; it’s unlike anything else I’ve ever encountered. I would go myself, but life is very busy at the academy and regretfully I do not have time to make the journey. Milo, would you retrieve the plant on my behalf?”

As Milo thought about the request, she hastily added, “I know this is a lot to ask, but you may use it if ever you have need.”

Intrigued by the proposition he inquired, “Who is this friend of yours? Sounds like quite the fellow.”

“Oh, we go back eons. He has a marvelous way with seeds.” A curious look overtook the professor, “You know, I do think he would like you.”

Without hesitation before Milo had a moment to reply, Ozlora took a small item from her chest and held it out for Milo to receive, “He’s a bit distrusting; give him this and tell him I sent you.”

Milo accepted what was an intricate crystal feather. Taken a bit off guard he asked, “Where does he live?”

“You’ll find him in that patch of wilderness known as Rinqen,” she replied.

“But that forest is huge. How will I find him?” asked Milo.

The professor assured him, “Wear the feather, lose yourself, and he’ll find you.”

· · ·

Final Updates

I thought it would be nice to include the last two updates for episode 5. Here they are.

Feb 1, 2025: Adding Script

I so look forward to turning these words into pictures! This is all I have completed for now. I am so loving world-building. Writing fiction has become a pleasure. Creating characters is also a blast. I have yet to get a good grasp on visual character design though; costumes are difficult for me; I need to spend more time drawing that stuff.

Since I’ve been writing and planning BREX one or two episodes at a time, I don’t really know where the adventure will end up; that’s sort of how I wanted it. I wanted to be surprised and experience the adventure with Milo as it formed. The challenge this brings in writing is that I don’t know where the story will end up; so I don’t know which details are important to highlight to foreshadow what is to come. I really just have to choose what I think is best and most interesting and then try to tie it into the story as I go; it seems to be working so far; at least I’m having fun. I think this writing method tends towards a looser, weaker plot overall, but my purpose for writing this story was to explore Aborek with Milo and Brex, to gain experience writing short stories, and officially to create a series of images in a new pencil style to use in a commercial portfolio . . . I feel I am succeeding! If the story ends up sagging too much, I could always come back after I’ve finished the whole thing and re-write parts to make it more coherent . . . a second edition. For now I’m just adventuring for adventure’s sake, enjoying the journey.

I’d be interested to hear your thoughts on the whole thing thus far. I do hope you enjoy reading it at least a fraction of what I enjoyed creating it.

May 26, 2025: Adding Illustrations

Wow! That took a lot longer than I expected. Feels good to be finished.

Extras

I’ll add a couple extra pieces of art here.

This was my character sheet for Milo, the main character.

This is a page from a history book featuring the founders of the three main factions of giants that inhabit the Southern Isles.

Conclusion

That’s it. That is all I have finished for BREX. I do have ideas for where it could go, but for now this shall have to suffice.

As mentioned at the beginning, I am currently creating a practice webcomic you can read for free here: Any Here Now.