Days gone by without a chance to post my thoughts. Had I written, I would have said how ill I felt on Monday and how sheepish I felt on Tuesday. I would have written how the thoughts chasing themselves around my mind were ones of frustration at my job and my disease and ones of longing for that which God has not chosen to grant me. I would have written of pain and tears and fatigue.
I would have.

Yet, Tuesday God very clearly showed me that I was wrong in some of what I had thought. And again this evening He showered me with blessings to leave me once again feeling foolish at my own thoughts.

I worked with my writing student this evening and composed five pages on the young adult high fantasy novel that has been languishing on my computer. I asked her if she would seriously hold me accountable for writing something each week for me. No matter how I feel, I want to make sure that I am taking time for that part of me instead of just letting days go by.

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Below is part of my work...

Forcing herself to release her grip on her skirts, Aryanth protested her father’s condemnation with far too tremulous a voice to carry any weight. “I didn’t abandon my duties, Father. I am actually seeing that I am ready to meet them when the time comes for me to assume management here.”

Behind her, the flames in the fireplace roared, licking their way up the outer bricks. Beads of sweat glistened on her forehead, and her shift began clinging to her body beneath her dress.

Damyan crumpled the paper he held in his hand. That day will never come, if I can help it! “You made your choice, Aryanth. It’s Lord Damyan to you. And I very much doubt that your foolish claim will ever hold water. Not now, not later. The villagers have far more to worry about than who holds their land.”

Despite her best efforts, tears slid down her face. Would you speak so if Mother were here? Do you blame me now, as you do all Daughters, for Mother’s death since I have walked the grounds of Elysian? “I shall not argue for Fraemour. What’s mine is mine, and I will see to my mother’s legacy in due time.” Even to her own ears Aryanth’s words sounded hollow. “Have you further need of me?”

Eyes never leaving his work, Lord Damyan dismissed his daughter. “I had no need of you in the first place.”

Neither noticed the fire die as Aryanth left the chamber.

Not four strides down the hallway, Aryanth came upon her nurse, studiously wiping non-existent dust from a table set aside for her father’s page. At the sight of her former charge, her brow softened and she smiled what encouragement she could. She dared not, however, ask how things fared between father and child, for Lord Damyan had those among the staff who savored currying favor with ready tales of disloyalty or wrongdoing.

“Your companion is waiting in your chambers. I believe she would like to visit the village,” Myrnth announced as Aryanth drew close.

Raising her eyebrows at her nurse for she knew all Maia wanted to do was lounge around with a book after their journey, she replied, “That is a fine idea, Nurse. I am sure she wishes to replenish her workbasket. The chores at Elysian are rather hard on one’s wardrobe.”

Falling in step with her nurse, Aryanth thought on her father’s reference to the villagers’ concerns. Why would they not care who ruled? For her part, Myrnth was thankful Aryanth had accented to the trip. Maia was still but a slip of a girl where she was concerned, one who should obey her elders without hesitation. But now that Ari had taken the first step in her journey to become a Daughter and was now heir-apparent, she had to step back from her role as caregiver to allow the young woman to find her way. Just as long as it is the proper way!

Maia groaned when she learned of their new journey. “I was just about to have your servants ready a bath for me. Surely ridding ourselves from the stains of our trip is more important than rushing out to visit the village? Do you not want them to see you as befitting your station? Mother always says that if you look the part then no one will question your decisions. Is it not important for them to see you as Daughter Heir?”

Aryanth laughed, welcoming the relief she felt wash over her at Maia’s foolish notion. Ignoring the hurt look on her companion’s face, she began packing her belt pouch with a few coins, a thimble that needed mending, and a handkerchief. “Looking the part as you say is long past an option for me. I grew up covered in dirt from the fields, flour from the mill, and threads from the weaving house. I will probably always be Alyssa’s urchin to them.” Tears stung her eyes at her own casual reference to her mother, but she smiled through them. “Pin your braids back up and ready yourself to go.”

Once they were outside the keep, Aryanth turned to her nurse. “Is there something going on at Fraemour that I should know about?”

Fraemour and everywhere, but I have not the courage to speak of more than my home. “I know not how to answer you, Ari. We’ve had twice as many fires since you’ve been gone as we did all of last year. The village seems plagued by accidents. Tempers flare. Babes are lost in childbirth. Illness spreads from house to house. But… is something wrong? That is for the Light to know.”

At the mention of illness, Aryanth started and struggled to school her features. “What kind of illness?” she forced herself to ask.

“That which Alyssa fought, my dear one.” Myrnth placed a hand softly on the shoulder of her former charge. She locked eyes with Aryanth, each one wishing to spill out their thoughts and each one not daring to ask a single question for fear of unwelcome answers.

Maia stood looking on in sympathy. She knew what took the life of her friend’s mother. She knew, too, that something was not right. But not one of the Mistresses would allow mere mention of life outside the walls of Elysian. The candidates were there to study and study they would! Her mother would say that they were being foolish for only a fool refused to look at that which is staring one in the face. At least I have a mother with whom to speak those thoughts I can’t help but thinking. Poor Ari.

The three continued on their walk in silence.

Once they arrived at the village, Aryanth could not quite hide her surprise at the changes she saw all around her. Where flowers once blossomed, pale plants struggled to survive, their withered leaves stubbornly clinging to life. The ground was parched, with huge cracks wending across the road. Children were no longer playing in the streets, and the cries of merchants hawking their wares were strangely absent in the air heavy with stale smoke.