Weekend writing warriors, #8sunday on Twitter, welcome to my first post under the new banner.
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Returning to my WIP, ATNS:
Last week, on the final sixsunday post, we left off with the heroine, Rissa, now in custody of Daekartha, the high King of Rialt. She's been forcibly separated from his grandson, and is considered by reason of her skin and eye color, and origins from an unknown world called, "Earth", an enemy of the Rialtan Kingdom. But Daekartha is neither reckless nor impatient, understanding that there is great value in subduing the enemy, then observing. This all takes place during the grand celebration of the Giver (god), and she has gone from forced attendance at a holy house (church) to a dinner and gathering following that service. Daekartha is parading her, making an example to all who would toy with him--including his grandson.
This is a blessing before a meal (much like making the sign of the cross) of which she's familiar because the old Guard, Abraxum, taught her.
"The man from the holy house—dressed in royal blue robes with white sashes, stood and mumbled, his multiple chins jiggling through more words that Rissa bet were full of hypocrisy. Following the lead of those around her, she bowed her head. Another blessing? She raised her head when the room went silent except for the rustle of motion. Like everyone in attendance, she placed her clenched fist over her heart, then kissed and opened it as she raised it to the ceiling, peering through outstretched fingers. Abraxum's act had been much purer as he’d reached toward the visible heavens. The lump forming in her throat kept pace with hot tears of anger swelling in her eyes while the truth sunk in--heaven wasn't visible from here. In fact, it was probably unreachable from here, too, because she truly was trapped in hell."
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