This article is three of seven in Phase I of a sort of novel, the “Pentagon of Pandemonium”, which outlines the history behind an entire universe of lore that I’ve been creating since seventh grade. (Back in 2022, way before this blog started!) I’ve only posted one article about the complex world of Magicae since I founded Inside A Wandering Mind, when I was a freshman in high school. At the time, I was given an assignment to write a short story in High School English, and I chose to write about something that was part of the lore. Since then, it’s just been something I’ve spent my free time doing— finally, after years of working, my friend Tristan and I have decided to work together to create a novel on the newest additions to our world lore that we’ve been obsessing over for years. We hope you enjoy!
CONTENT WARNING – Some of the scenes in this novel may feature violence, profanity, or references to other mature topics that may cause discomfort for certain readers.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the authors’ imagination or used in a fictitious manner to serve the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Chapter 3 (1980) – The Philosophy of the Lazy
“Something bad happened at school today and you need to stop it,” Satsun blurted abruptly to Uncle Gary. The school day had ended, and the flying van owned by Joe’s family was taking off and heading home. Joe, who sat in the back next to Satsun, let out a small whimper.
Uncle Gary had grey hair, a wrinkled face, and was dressed up in the most formal suit one could picture. He raised an eyebrow and looked back at Satsun. “Is that so?” His voice was a bit old, but firm and respectable; it was the voice of a politician who knew exactly what he was talking about.
“Yes,” Satsun nodded. He turned to Joe. “Wanna tell him about—” He stopped quickly. He already saw Joe’s eyes were shining slightly more than a minute ago, which meant he was a hair away from crying again. “Uh, anyways, what happened was we got into a fight with the school bully, Monwed,”
Uncle Gary paid attention to the air traffic, swerving between several other flying cars to claim his spot in a crowded lane of honking vehicles. “Go on,” He said gently. He wasn’t looking at Satsun, but there was something about the tone that made Satsun feel like he was really being listened to. That was rare in his life; his true father was the Emperor of the Caves, and had to spend a lot of time with his grown-up business. It was usually Gary who listened to him when he needed to talk.
“Well,” Satsun recounted carefully. “We were trying to play on the climbing wall, and Monwed said we could only play if we joined their game.”
“And what game was that?” Gary asked softly.
“Societies,” Satsun replied, his voice catching on his breath as he emphasized the ‘S’.
“Then what happened?”
“Then Monwed made us aristocrats in the game,” Satsun explained. “And everyone started laughing. I don’t understand why.”
“He called me a buh-buh-broh-brownie,” Joe, who had quietly started sobbing again, said for the first time. Then he groaned and couldn’t manage for a moment.
Gary sighed, as if this was a conversation he’d been dreading to have with his child for the longest time. Neither Satsun nor Joe was old enough to understand, but the look in his eyes said, I suppose it’s time for them to know. “Boys,” He said softly, like a parent to both Satsun and Joe, although he wasn’t really Satsun’s father. “Do you know what the word Brownie means?”
“No,” Satsun admitted flatly. “Is it a bad word?”
“Worse,” Gary said darkly. “It’s not a word at all.”
That didn’t make very much sense to Joe or Satsun. Monwed had clearly said something, a word, that had at least sounded like Brownie. The two exchanged glances. “But why’d Monwed say it, then?” Satsun asked, confused.
“People say it because they think something’s wrong with you,” Uncle Gary explained.
“Wrong with me?” Joe replied, a lump rising in his throat. “W-why do they think that?”
Uncle Gary let out a heavy sigh. It looked like this was a conversation he’d feared having for years. “A lot of people in this country… they think that our family, the Brown Clan, has something wrong with it. They think we are bad people, and that we do bad things.”
“But… how is that fair?” Joe questioned, his own eyes flickering with confusion. “I-I’m not bad… I follow the rules, do what the teacher says, and haven’t ever spoken a bad word.”
“And it’s good that you’ve done that.” Uncle Gary praised Joe. “I’m very proud of you for your good behavior. But some people aren’t raised with good values, like you are.”
“But why call us mean names?” Joe asked, sobbing less because he was now more curious.
“What you have to understand,” Uncle Gary said, “is that our family reached this place through generations of discipline, good morals, and a strong work ethic. You have to work hard to do well in school, right? Well, same idea here. You’ve got to work hard to do well in life.”
“So the others— they’re just lazy?” Satsun stared at Gary, his childish eyes slightly narrowed, as if trying to confirm his understanding of Uncle Gary’s argument.
“So why don’t they just work hard, so they can be awesome like us?” Joe asked.
“They simply come from families of… well. Lesser origins, so to speak.” Uncle Gary made his voice sound pained and troubled, like speaking this truth was incredibly painful for him. “You see, certain people in our country aren’t made to be ‘awesome’ like we are. They don’t understand the value of discipline, of working hard, and of achieving your dreams. The parents never taught their kids how to be good people.”
“Is that why they made up that mean word?” Satsun asked.
“Yes,” Uncle Gary nodded. “Some people, when they feel behind or let down or angered, don’t understand that there’s nothing they can do about it. So they make up mean words to make themselves feel better about things.”
“So it’s like they’re acting jealous? Because they don’t know how to work as hard as we do?” Satsun said, testing out the word jealous. He’d only heard it in a few contexts before.
“Yes.” Uncle Gary’s face swelled with pride. “You understood fast. You’re a smart boy, Satsun.”
Satsun blushed.
“But somebody should teach them the right way of things.”
“It doesn’t matter. The truth doesn’t matter to the poor bottom-feeders of this place. All that matters to them is filling their shallow egos by attempting to push you down and break you with their words,” Uncle Gary said, a slight flash of anger crossing his face as he drove.
“But why do they hate us? Why do they want to break us? What’s wrong with the Brown family?”
“Nothing is wrong with our family.” Uncle Gary said firmly. “We are inherently better than them, financially, powerfully, and even mentally. We’re richer because we were built to be richer. We’re more capable; we’ve accomplished much more than they could ever do in a thousand generations.” Uncle Gary paused for a second, making sure the two boys were listening. “Don’t let it get to you two. Always remember. Browns are superior, even if they try to get you to believe we’re not.”
Joe Brown and Satsun nodded in agreement to Uncle Gary’s statement. “Someday I’ll teach them what’s right,” Satsun promised. “I’ll teach the bullies how to do the right thing.”
Gary smiled. “That’s right, Satsun. There are a lot of people out there who
