We, as finite creatures- tend to drift. To float away weakly after the pleasures of the world. We exchange the wonderful blessings of Christ Jesus, for the fleeting pleasures of sin. It’s a rip-off, but we don’t mind. It doesn’t matter to us. But it should.
Many of you have probably heard the C.S Lewis quote about the children being more content with mud pies than with the vacation at the beach. That’s us. We’ll take the mud pies, disguised to look like candy- and devour them.
But there’s good news.
We’re not given over to our sin as unbelievers are. The Lord will never forsake His own. He pursues us, He loves us freely. And above all- He convicts us. Have you ever felt that terrible poke right before doing what you know is wrong? Most of the time, people refer to that as your conscience. But did you know that the Holy Spirit, while being a comforter- is also a convicter? God doesn’t wink at sin, and He has indwelt us in the person of the Spirit. He is merciful and gracious.
I feel that the things that I have been doing are drowning out the love that I ought to have for God. I cry out, asking why God isn’t answering. Why isn’t He there? Well, He is. Sometimes God doesn’t answer the way we want Him to. Sometimes we alienate ourselves from Him. We neglect reading His Word and praying. And then we wonder why we don’t ‘feel’ Him there.
The Psalm most applicable that I can think of to repentance (turning away to return) is Psalm 32. It tells us what happens when we do not confess, and I gives us encouragement to return.
Blessed Are the Forgiven
A Maskil of David.
” Blessed is the one whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered. 2 Blessed is the man against whom the Lord counts no iniquity, and in whose spirit there is no deceit.
3 For when I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long. 4 For day and night your hand was heavy upon me; my strength was dried up as by the heat of summer. Selah
5 I acknowledged my sin to you, and I did not cover my iniquity; I said, “I will confess my transgressions to the Lord,” and you forgave the iniquity of my sin. Selah
6 Therefore let everyone who is godly offer prayer to you at a time when you may be found; surely in the rush of great waters, they shall not reach him. 7 You are a hiding place for me; you preserve me from trouble; you surround me with shouts of deliverance. Selah
8 I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you with my eye upon you. 9 Be not like a horse or a mule, without understanding, which must be curbed with bit and bridle, or it will not stay near you.
10 Many are the sorrows of the wicked, but steadfast love surrounds the one who trusts in the Lord. 11 Be glad in the Lord, and rejoice, O righteous, and shout for joy, all you upright in heart!”
Sadly, sometimes it’s so easily said, and not easily done at all. I know when I’m in a ‘spiritual rut’ or find myself backsliding back into sin- sometimes the last thing I want is to return. Even though He loves me freely. Even though my current path will only lead to destruction. I still am content to wallow in the mud.
Sometimes we must wallow in the mud for a while to be brought to utter humility. We see our need of Him more clearly when He ‘hides His face’ from us for a while. But then, like the prodigal son—we return. He brings us back like lost sheep into His fold. We feast once again on green pastures. He restores our cast-down souls. He gives us drink from the clear, still waters.
With all the fuss having been lately directed at the ‘horrors’ of high school and my new camera–where does that leave writing? Well, lately there hasn’t been much time. But…a few days ago I experienced that overwhelming feeling that I MUST write. So I started writing again. And, I am so very glad I did. My characters are so special to me and writing more about them only increases my anticipation for the closure of their unique stories. This post will focus on my two favorite writing projects (aka- the two I couldn’t ever put down because I am emotionally attached to them 😉 . ) The Sheltered from the Storm Series and my single dystopian YA novel Watchful. So, on to Writing Right Now!
Sheltered from the Storm Series
The Robin’s Storm, SFTS series book 1.
The Robin’s Flight, SFTS series book 2.
The Robin’s Freedom, SFTS series book 3.
The Robin’s Son, SFTS series 4.
I am literally in the middle of book three! I am so excited. I feel like my characters have crossed and ocean since book one. The biggest challenge I have faced so far (besides ruthlessly murdering one of my favorite characters and being depressed for a week) is figuring out how to make the first book a great starting book. I started writing it when I was 12 or 13 –and my writing style and concept of the idea is much different. Here’s a little summary of each book so far:
The Robin’s Storm
I am pretty much considering re-writing this book and doing my very best to make it fit with the other two books. It will be discouraging and difficult, I have no doubt. And I am not terribly thrilled about it. But here’s the basic plot of the story.
Anna and Ross (siblings) live in the country of Cantavia and are Christians.
Evil men kidnap Ross.
Anna and friends go after him.
They go to the capitol city trying to find Ross.
They discover things are much more serious than they appear.
The rest of the book is dedicated to many action sequences and events that occur.
It sounds very simple, right? I can’t believe I just summarized it so very quickly. But trust me–it’s not as boring or simple as it sounds. I’m trying not to spoil all the middle (and most important) stuff. Did you notice I didn’t mention why Ross (who is 12, BTW.) was kidnapped? Why would they want a young boy? And who kidnapped him in the first place? And what are the serious things Anna and friends discovered? Who is/are the villain(s) (you have to have one of those!) and what do they want? See what I mean? There’s a whole lot more that I don’t want to spill right now. Here’s one of my favorite scenes which will probably utterly confuse you :p .
“There they are!”
She exclaims enthusiastically. I follow her as if in a dream. Soon I’m standing close to Tin.
“Ahh…so you are finally here! And you both look charming. I claim the first dance-s.”
Tin slurs his words purposefully. I shiver. Oh, great, dance with Tin? What could possibly be worse? I look at our group. Beckym, Bennor, Ellis, and Tin are outfitted in tuxedos- each a different color. None of them are overly brightly colored. Except Tin’s, which is bright pink.
“To the dance room!”
Tin orders taking the lead. My stomach turns as we walk. That elevator was designed to annihilate people’s stomachs. Ross will be there, as will all the other victims. Funny that the victims are allowed to do whatever they please tonight- except leave. Because tomorrow- they will probably all be dead. Lord, please don’t let Ross be one of them!
“What a beautiful room!”
Sarah exclaims loudly. She’s doing a wonderful job acting, while I’m doing dreadfully. Then I look up. The sight takes my breath away. Flowers…real flowers, everywhere. No portraits of victims or photos taken from the Purging. No rabid animals’ mouths dripping with human blood. Just flowers. Then I look around. Oh no. People, lots of people. Women stand by chatting- looking perfectly (revolting)…fake. Men in tuxedos. Then a dance floor. Couples whirling to the music. Tin shinnies up to me and whispers in my ear:
“Remember the plan.”
The plan? Oh…right. The whole reason we’re here. The plan is really quite simple. The first person to find Ross will bring him to me, we will dance, I will tell him the plan. Then he will go with Tin- who will hand him over to Beckym and Ellis- and they will take him to a friend of Ellis’s. Ellis’s friend is arranging to have Ross escorted to the safety of people who will protect him for Dad’s sake. How they will get past security- I don’t know. And I don’t want to think about it. All I really know is that Tin will get Sarah and I out of here somehow- to the safety Ellis and Beckym seem so confident in. After that, who knows? I don’t care all that much, just so long as Ross gets to freedom. Then Tin speaks again- but to the group this time.
Yeah, great. Where should I go? Refreshment tables line the walls. Perfect. That should work. I make my way slowly (and, I hope, sophisticatedly) to the drink table. I ladle a glass out for myself and drink the liquid. The cold feels good on my stomach.
Says a pleasant voice behind me. I jump, wheel around, and right myself. A hint of amusement flickers in the stranger’s eyes. He wears a little black pin on his tuxedo. Oh, he’s a victim. The realization hits me.
“Sorry if I startled you.”
“Oh, no harm done…I jump rather easily. What is your name?”
“Barak Osbourne. I’m afraid I haven’t the pleasure of your name though.”
He points out. Oh, my manners are so awful! Sarah would’ve done this so perfectly.
“I’m sorry. I’m uh- Elisabeth Rhodes. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Osbourne.”
I use the agreed-on name. Finally, I’m starting to get the hang of this.
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Rhodes. Would you care to dance?”
He asks politely. I panic inwardly. This was NOT part of the plan, what do I do now? Then I remember Tin’s words: ‘blend in’.
“It would be a pleasure, Mr. Osbourne.”
I reply graciously. The stranger, (Barak, I remind myself) leads me to the dance floor with an easy grace. The music begins. Slow, freestyle, but Barak isn’t dancing close. He’s obviously doing the leading…but he makes me more comfortable. I begin to relax. He begins to converse quietly.
“Tell me, Miss Rhodes, if you were in my shoes, what would your reaction be?”
The question catches me by surprise. My reaction, to being a victim? Should I trust him?
I answer, after a moment’s hesitation.
“You think as we think. Only a few of us want to be victims and are excited about the Purging tomorrow.”
Tomorrow! Ross, where are you? Then he lowers his voice to a whisper:
“Many of us are Christians, Miss Rhodes; we aren’t worried about where we’ll go if we die. We have been purchased by Christ…”
By Christ…he’s a Christian? Or is he trying to trick me?
“Don’t get me wrong- we still pray for deliverance. We pray specifically for a certain kind of deliverance…Anna.”
I nearly scream, but catch myself just in time.
“How do you know…?”
I whisper, all my precautions out the door. Barak silences me with a quick motion which could have been part of the dance. The music ends- Barak bows, and I curtsy.
“I enjoyed our dance, Miss Rhodes,”
He says, and then he adds quietly:
“Don’t be afraid to do the necessary.”
Then, he’s gone. Just as if that never happened. How did he know? I still feel shaken when I feel a tap on my shoulder. Having learned better- I turn around slowly. I turn around to find Bennor and…
“Are you sure this is my sister?”
Ross asks Bennor with a twinkle in his eye. Of course it’s still me! The very notion of makeup and a fancy dress changing who someone is…!
“Yes, it is. But I hardly recognize her myself.”
Bennor and Ross laugh. This is no time to be fooling around! Then Bennor whispers:
“There’s been a slight change of plans. We’re taking Ross right to Tin, and then you and Sarah are coming with me.”
“Okay, let’s go!”
Let’s get out of here, FOREVER! As I pass Ross I whisper a hasty ‘goodbye, I love you’. But Ross actually tears up and says:
“Love you, Anna, be safe.”
Be safe? You’re the one who’ll be in the most danger. But it’s sweet of him anyway.
Do forgive all the adverbs (evidence that this is ‘beautifully’ unedited).
The Robin’s Flight
This book is much more polished than the first. I think when I picked it up my style and everything has really matured. But again, basic plot:
Starts by reintroducing us to some of the main characters.
Anna lives in a new place that is hidden. A Christian community lives there as well.
She is on the safety squad which attempts to keep the Christians semi-‘safe’.
Something (not saying what) happens that makes them have to flee.
All the rest focuses on all the events that transpire afterward. The main one is that Anna has to consider leaving her beloved country (again, avoiding the reason why.).
None of the scenes in this book are typed out as of yet, so it would take too long to write it here. From here on out- the books are only handwritten on lined notebook paper. Sorry!
The Robin’s Freedom
This is the final book in this trilogy. What, it’s a trilogy? Yep. But–I thought there were FOUR books! There are. Or will be. But I see the first three as being directly together, and the last one as being all on it’s own. The reason for that is it occurs several years after this last book (I won’t be updating you on book 4, because there’s nothing to report on there.). Basic plot? Here ya’ go!
Picks up almost directly from the end of the 2nd book.
People begin to seek recruits for the war (What, didn’t know there was a war? I know–I didn’t mention it 🙂 .).
Battles occur. (you still don’t know any of this middle stuff, or even what the conflict is about!)
People die. (my depression)
There’s a romantic interest. (one really can’t avoid it–only reduce the cheese.) I’m trying to make it as unsappy and realistic as possible while still making it sweet.
All the rest. Major climax. What happens? Etc.
IT ALL ENDS HERE! (what ends here? Well, maybe you should be a beta reader if you’re interested 😉 .)
I will spare you the synopsis which you can find here if you really want it. But the basis plot is about this:
Jessica Graye is sent to IUIB (Institute for Unusually Intelligent Beings) to be schooled.
She meets many new friends, but is distrustful of the school from the beginning.
She has a gift which she is forced to hide because of her growing distrust of the school.
She graduates and is assigned to be secretary to someone.
Many things happen in the middle.
Infinity. Dramatic ending. Etc.
Sorry, really basic–again! Here’s a scene I like.
“All newly-arrived students are requested to meet at the briefing hall in an hour. Those who fail to appear will be found and forced to spend the day with the precariots.” The order just plays over and over. Soon, Prisl and I are getting annoyed.
“You’d think we would’ve gotten the message by now.” I comment, brushing a speck of lint off my uniform.
“No kidding. We must be idiots.” Prisl adds, rolling her eyes. I laugh a little. Prisl and I are already rather good friends. And we’ve known each other for one afternoon, and about two hours this morning. It must be that we both tend to be somewhat sarcastic. Prisl has her hair done so fast it’s not even funny. Her red hair is so short; all she must do is brush it. When it’s my turn to use the mirror- I just stand there, uncertain.
“Never done your own hair?” Prisl asks.
“I um- I have,” I hesitate.
“Just never in front of a mirror.” I finish.
“Oh.” she sidles closer to me.
“I’ve never looked in a mirror much before.”
“Well then, let’s make this a first.” She smiles a little and hands me my brush from the nightstand.
I finger my hair, and shift my weight from one foot to the next. Someone taps my shoulder from behind. I turn in surprise. Garth stands there.
“When’s this thing gonna’ start?” he asks, voicing the thought we must all have.
“How would I know?” I respond.
“Sleep okay?” is his next question.
“Yes, great. You?” I fire back.
“Well, I suppose. Felt a little less comfortable on the beds here. Hard as rocks. Rather sleep on the ground.” He answers.
“I didn’t notice.” I say in an innocent tone.
“You wouldn’t.” he says. That’s for sure; I’m not too concerned about physical comfort.
“Let’s get closer, Jess.” Prisl says, appearing at my side. Garth gets a funny look on his face. When Prisl sees him- she extends her hand.
“Prisl Smith, from Beacon.” She introduces herself.
“Garth Williams, from Vigor.” He says, standing up taller and smoothing his words noticeably.
“Nice to meet you. You’re Jess’s friend?”
“Yes, from childhood, in fact.” He answers, still smoothing out his in general rough speech.
“That’s nice. Would you like to join us in the front?” Prisl asks.
“Thanks, but no. My friend Michael and I are gonna’ stand over by the speakers.” He looks at me when he says this, as if realizing that I’m still here. I frown, trying to push down the feeling that even now- I am losing my friend. I am losing Garth. Soon we are standing up front balancing on tiptoe. A woman in grey pants and shirt looks down at us without any expression.
“Welcome to the Institute for Unusually Intelligent Beings. You are here because your parents saw potential in you. Or because they thought they saw potential in you.”
“Encouraging, isn’t she?” Prisl whispers. I nod.
“This school is here to separate the intelligent from the average. In the next few months, you will all be placed under rigorous training to test your abilities. If at any time during that period, you experience anything unusual- you are to report at once to the Capital ward. Once there, you will be tested. If you pass that testing, you will receive special training- and then become a true capital. Are there any questions?” the woman’s eyes scan the curious faces around her. One girl raises her hand.
“I was wondering what a ‘Capital’ is?”
“A ‘Capital’ is a rating. If you have a gift, you are given the rating of ‘Capital’.” She answers.
“A gift?” I am almost surprised to hear my own voice. The woman turns on me with a steeled and measured gaze.
“A gift can be anything from very strong to unusually smart. It can be something not seen in other humans. We have not discovered all the possibilities now. That is part of the point of this school. To find gifts and evaluate them, to test people and see what we can do for the rest of the world with those gifts.” At last her gaze drops from my face. I feel relieved. For some reason, this woman’s words don’t ring true to me. Prisl pokes me.
“Hey, that was creepy! She was just staring at you.” I don’t answer.
“Any other questions?” the lady asks, glancing down at her clipboard.
“What other ratings are there, and what does it take to get them?” A tall young man asks.
“The ratings are Capitals, Tributaries, and Precariots.” Prisl nudges me at this point. She whispers in my ear:
“That’s what came over the loudspeakers. Precariot isn’t a nice word either. Doesn’t it mean like, lowest of the low?” I nod. I also nudge her hard as the lady keeps on talking…
“The Capitals are those with gifts, the Tributaries are those who do not have gifts, and they serve the Capitals when their training is complete. The Precariots, on the other hand—are nothing. They have no gifts and are neither smart nor helpful. They do all the menial tasks for the school. They must obey the commands of both Capitals and Tributaries. Their jobs include sanitation and deep cleaning. I would not recommend facing off with Capitals or school leaders, as this sort of behavior has gotten many into the Precariot position. I regret to inform you that the time for questions is up. Good evening and wisdom go with you.”
After the Q and A, everyone leaves the Briefing Hall, which I have concluded is just a huge room. For some reason, I can’t shake this feeling of anxiety. Something about this place just rubs me all wrong. Prisl is already good at reading me and is quick to suggest a little detour back to our room. Her suggestion is confusing, but I allow her to drag me down several flights of stairs. She comes to a complete stop in front of a grey door which looks a lot like the entrance to a lab.
I am making slow but sure progress on this book and am really enjoying it in all it’s dystopian glory. If you don’t know the definition of a dystopian novel here’s a basic one:
“Dystopian literature is a genre of fictional writing used to explore social and political structures in ‘a dark, nightmare world.’ The term dystopia is defined as a society characterized by poverty, squalor or oppression and the theme is most commonly used in science fiction and speculative fiction genres.”
Thanks for letting me ramble! This has been a fun journey for me to take, and it only gets more exciting. Sorry for the length of this post! 😦 🙂
I have done this before, but it was many years ago. I have a photography website! I wanted more organization, and less clutter on this blog. So I have a new website. I have been tinkering with the design of the site, and have finally reached a semi-shade of normalcy. If you want to visit Lucillian Photography (yes, that’s its name 🙂 ) you can click HERE.
What do I mean by ‘more organization’? Well, on here–yes I have categories. But…I just love the fact that you can go on my other website and look at a special page for a certain genre of photography. It’s really handy. AND there’s the added bonus of using slideshows instead of individual images. 🙂 I like slideshows.
So, what should you do if you’re following this blog and enjoy seeing my (feeble) photography attempts? One of two things:
You can go visit my blog (Lucillian Photography) and follow it. OR…
You can just get the posts on this website announcing new photo shoots and THEN go check it out without following the blog. (I will be posting photography updates, without the actual photos on this blog. And I will also be providing the link to the posts in the posts here.)
And that’s my first attempt at a logo. I like it for now, and think it’ll fit the bill for right now. Thank you all for being so encouraging and thoughtful in your interest in my photography thus far. If I ever actually make it to photographer status, I will always appreciate the feedback I recieved early on (now 🙂 ).
I was so thrilled when I woke up and saw…a mist/fog! A thick mist, too. I ran out, stuff sticking to my bare feet- and snapped some quick photos. Then I was told to come upstairs to do yoga with Mom and H. I was literally begging the mist not to go away while I did yoga. And happily, the mist remained. I went out and took more pictures. And my feet were still bare, FYI 🙂 .
The first wave…
Landscape of the fog…
The second wave…
Well, I hope I didn’t bore you TOO severely. I actually think this was one of the shortest photoshoots I’ve ever done. But I also think I got the most pictures I’ve ever gotten out of this one. Haha…I didn’t even post ALL of the pictures. 😉
So, have any of you ever ventured into a supposedly ‘yucky’ day to take photos?
Do you enjoy when fog/ mists come?
Which of the pictures in each category (first wave, landscape, 2nd wave) is your favorite?
What kind of photography would you like to see more of?
p.s. Soon I’m going to post pictures I took on another photoshoot. That post will be 1,000 (just kidding) different views of mom’s engagement ring. I probably should’ve borrowed dad’s wedding ring too…but oh well.
Yesterday afternoon I was given the (scary) fun task of ‘babysitting’ my three younger siblings. Mom and my older sister were off to Nashville for H’s piano lesson. And dad was sick, so I was in charge. A few moments before they left- Mom asked me if I would do a ‘fall’ craft with the kids. I had been wanting to try out a few Pinterest style crafts and so…I did. And I am happy we did.
The Hand Trees…
Sorry about the blurriness… for some reason my siblings didn’t enjoy standing still for long! 🙂
The Fall Leaves Wreath
Then we went and gathered fall leaves, emphasis on color.
Have y’all done any fall-inspired crafts lately?
What is your #1 favorite thing about fall?
Do you use pinterest? (I’m a pinterest crazy person!)
What do YOU think of our crafts? Any ideas for another craft? 🙂
What a way to start a post… I just don’t want anyone thinking this is ACTUALLY anything close to a real engagement session. I don’t have any models for these photos. All I have is the engagement ring (which is mom’s, no I don’t have an engagement ring 🙂 ). But I have always had a fascination for taking ring photos. I used to have a ring I’d photograph all the time. Now…I borrow someone else’s.
Note: some of the following images received minimal editing.
So, do you ever do fake engagement photos?
If you were to do a real couple, what poses would you do?
Which of these photos do you think turned out the best?
I just felt like putting exclamation marks on this post. I am in a good mood, I guess. Today I am just doing a book review on Beowulf. I am also going to be sharing a scene from my book-in-progress Warchful. The scene takes place a little later on in the book. If y’all aren’t familiar with what I’ve already mentioned about that…it’s a Christian fiction dystopian novel. Mouthful, huh? 🙂
Let’s hop into the review then…
A New Verse Translation…
…by Seamus Heaney.
My rating- 5 stars
Besides the gorgeous fact that this book’s paperback cover allows you to feel the texture of the chain mail (expiring over that fact, BTW 🙂 )– why would you read a book like this? Well first let me just mention that I read this book for the Gileskirk curriculum. And as I’ve been glad for all the other books I’ve read for Gileskirk…so am I happy for the reading of this one.
It’s one of those books that you’re just fascinated by. Okay…that I’M fascinated by (but you might be too, who knows! 🙂 ). This translation is easy to understand and yet Seamus Heaney manages to give you a flavor of times past. True, this story is a legend. So what? It’s an interesting, well-written legend…and it’s classic. But on to some more definitive ‘points’.
// This book (translation, content, etc.) is well-written.
// It gives you a step-back-into time feeling. Enough said.
//It is, however a poem. Not the rhyme type, BTW. If you read this there won’t be any Mother Goose…
//The story is all the wonderful medieval knights and distress and monsters…YAY!
//There’s a difference in the book. I believe whoever the original writer of this poem was a Christian. And I’m pretty sure that the characters in the story were supposed to be pagan. If I’m wrong about that–correction is in order.
//It’s actually interesting. This may seem like a no-brainer…but I just thought I’d add it to make sure that it is clear. There is a deadly fight, there is another deadly fight…and you guessed it–another deadly fight farther along. There are evocative descriptions…things that really get the brain going.
//This book is easier to follow along with than I thought it would be. It really is easier. One thing that really contributed to its being easier…was the fact that they include little notes on the sides of the poem on each page. The notes basically tell you what’s going on. So if you’re lost, fear not! You will not remain lost for long.
And that’s the scoop. So get this book, and read it. And if you’ve already read it…hmm. Read it again? 🙂
What are your thoughts on reading legends?
Do you enjoy the style of old english writing?
What do YOU think of the medieval era?
p.s. Scroll down further for the bonus scene from ‘Watchful‘.
Scene title: Jess in the cafeteria
I stir some lemon spice into my food. I add salt, then slop a spoonful of sauteed onions on the top. The salad bar is next. I pick and choose toppings. I avoid the dairy toppings and move toward the vegetable ones. Cucumbers, tomatoes, olives, carrot shreds, and collard greens.
“You gotta’ try one of these, Jess.” I turn hesitantly to find Garth, Maul holding his hand tightly. In his outstretched hand is a chocolate truffle.
“No thanks, Garth. I- I think I’ll stick with vegetables.” I answer. Garth frowns. Then he turns away, but not before he shoots me a look. It pains me more than I’d like to admit. Letting go of my friend is hard. But I am convinced it’s the best thing to do in light of the situation with Maul. I sweep the room looking for Prisl, and when I’m satisfied she’s not here- take a seat in a quiet corner. I have just taken a seat when I see my ’employer’ out of the corner of my eye. He exchanges comments with several young men, before coming and plunking his plate right next to mine.
“Mind if I sit here?” he asks in a polite voice.
“Uh-no. I guess not. But, um- don’t you want to sit with them?” I ask indicating a table crammed with young men- all of them capitals. He frowns.
“No, I generally sit in the quiet area. I don’t enjoy the rambunctiousness of that table.” he says, taking off his jacket and draping it over the chair.
“Well, I’m sure you don’t want to be seen with a- a tributary.” I get out. There is no way he can sit here. I’ve got to get out of here.
“I don’t see what you mean. There’s nothing wrong with being a ‘tributary’– it’s just a silly old ranking for the school. It doesn’t describe the people it names.” So saying he promptly sits down. I unconsciously look into his eyes and exercise my gift. I jerk when I realize how closely I was studying him. He smiles a little at my embarrassment, which I try to cover by taking a sip of water. But I had enough time to read him. Nothing about him rings false. I saw nothing but honesty and humility in his gaze.
“Do you make a practice of scrutinizing people that meticulously?” I panic a little at the question. I try to keep my face impassive. It doesn’t help much. Why does my gift help me zero at hiding my own emotions?
“Yes- uh no…” I stammer. There’s no great answer to this question, anything I say could give me away. But maybe I can just be honest with him. I don’t think he’d turn me in because he suspects something…
“Sorry. I probably just made things more awkward, huh?” I nod before I can stop myself. He laughs. To my relief, his laughter isn’t loud.
“You know, Jess- you’re nothing like so many of the other tributaries I’ve met.” I startle at his using my shortened name. This is such an awkward conversation. I bet Prisl would’ve nailed it.
“Well, if it makes you feel better- you’re nothing like the other capitals.” He grimaces at my flipping the comment.
“I often wonder why there’s so much hate amongst the different people in the different ratings.” Everything about Chase- uh- my employer, is different.
“You really are nothing like the others. None of the other capitals would even question the way things are. They are content to see us as far inferior and below them.” I crumple my napkin in my fist under the table.
“You care about them don’t you? The tributaries?” he inquires, dipping his head.
“Yeah. I care about many people here. I’ve grown with so many of them and I want to help them if I can.” I admit.
“I believe you can change them, and help them too. In some ways, just believing the way you do can change them.” ‘Just believing the way’ I do? He must know something about the religion of Vigor then.
“Thank you. I enjoyed talking with you, and I’m glad that I get to serve you instead of someone else.” the words I thought I’d never say. Who could’ve known a week ago that I would be grateful in working for a young man instead of a girl.
“I enjoyed talking to you too. Here, let me take the dishes to the counter for you, so you can go catch your class.” Chase says. How did he know I have a class? But the mention of the class puts the question far from my mind.