Hearts All of Glass 3: Seeing Red

Part three, naturally:

“Our first day in the field was pure adrenaline. I arrived at the front by ornithopter and my squad was deployed to the spear of the lines, a hill far forward we had taken from the enemy that day. I had my training, and months of practice shooting and reading about combat procedures, but nothing prepared me for the thrill, the kiss of danger as I stepped off that transport. I cracked my knuckles and set to work, invoked the form of a manticore like the rest of my patrol, and barreled over the top, into the blind plain of battle. I can’t describe to you how it feels to a wizard, to taste blood with a tongue other than your own, to run headlong into artillery barrages and watch platoons of men scatter like scared mice, plowed to the ground by sheer force of confidence! I got my first kill that day, and my commandant told me he was impressed, but if he was impressed by me then, he had better wait and see what was to come!”

-Mirrin Anselov, Tales of Glorious Valor, Issue 7, Siphrobion 6th, 6011

Her head rose, and my jaw dropped, or so I would like to say. Perhaps I contained my fascination too well, hidden behind a serious demeanor. She gave me a furtive glance and nodded, returning to her work. I felt the class’ attention on me, standing out of place above this busy girl and her artwork. A blonde underclassmen offered me his rose colored pencil and smiled. I must admit I sneered harshly at him.

“No thank you, freshman.” The boy looked discouraged and slumped down.

“We do not refer to our fellow actors by anything other than their given names!” The flamboyant theatre instructor called from the wings. He shook his finger comically at me and reproached me for acting superior to my fellow student. After reminding me of my own grade and status he made me apologize and shake hands with the boy. I forget his name, and I hardly recall the class’ resounding laughter around me- instead my attention was warped in that moment, to her subtle glance up at me. Some first impression I had made. I shook my head and returned to my place in the circle and sat out the rest of the class in silence. Oddly enough I didn't feel the need to sulk or even reflect on my mistake, I was utterly entranced with countless distractions, least of which were highly implausible situations involving Ausrine.

Ausrine. And that was her name. I would find this out in approximately thirty minutes, walking out of the theatre by way of the back exit, I caught Ausrine slinging her canvas satchel over her shoulder to keep it from falling.

“Hey there, cool satchel you have. It’s like mine.” I motioned to my tan canvas book bag and smiled. Indeed ours were identical, but this was an idiotic comment since most everyone in the school had either this satchel or a similar backpack, both tan with the navy blue outline and the academy crest. And so it was even more implausible that she obviously blushed at my comment and giggled. She managed to mouth a thank you and I continued: “You wear it better, I suppose- Maybe you can teach me to make it look that good?”

“Sure...” She said, bewildered by my overblown confidence or perhaps my absurd attempt at a compliment. Her voice was soft and formal. Like a pristine rose, if they ever made any sound. I leaned in as we walked to hear her better and she cleared her throat  and repeated herself. “Sure. It’s.. Dmitri right?”

“That’s right-” I struggled to recall her name and failed miserably. “Elaine?” I guessed at the most common name of my generation for young women. Around the time of our birth Queen Elaine’s ascent to the throne was wildly popular and many took to naming their children after her or her deceased husband, King Dalton Voltacore.

“Ausrine,” She supplied helpfully. Only- she pronounced it as though the “I” was a double “E”, and with a sharp Blackheart accent under all her softness of voice. I nodded as if I knew all along and grinned. I extended my hand to shake, a gesture only informally used between the sexes at the time, and she blushed further as she reached back to squeeze my hand briefly. Internally this primary contact was setting off fireworks, but externally I kept my all-affirming smile and said it was a pleasure to meet her.

“My sister’s name is very similar, but I like yours, it’s very exotic.” This was a blatant lie. My sister’s names were Maria and Delphine, and Ausrine's name was hardly exotic, even with the altered pronunciation, its roots were in the mythology of the Eastern Shore. This falsehood would mark the very moment she acknowledged her initial internal attraction, incidentally. In the meantime we walked and nodded meekly, both flashing beaming smiles at each other when we dared make eye contact, and walking oddly close for two youths who had just met. After walking for some time behind the school we entered the main hall and approached the same class.

“You have first-turn Deltoran class too?” She giggled as I held the door open. It hadn't occurred to me that she’d be in the grade below me. She didn’t look anything like the miniscule freshmen girls that crowded our theatre class, her long hair and height caused me to suppose she might even be a grade above me. I stammered yes, then no, and realizing the time clumsily thrust myself forward to leave and our skulls collided with a delightful thump as she attempted to enter her class. We exchanged nervous glances and confident smiles and shrugged off the whole incident. I was shrugging and nodding and smiling to myself all the way to class. Which of course I was frightfully late too, seeing as I had walked to the opposite end of the school in my escorting Ausrine to class.

After class I could have talked to her, I saw her walking alone for a few seconds before an acquaintance of hers seized her by the arm to chat. We passed each other in the halls four more times before the final bell sent us home free. I'd expected to walk home most days but that day my uncle had offered to pick me up at a public park a few block away from the school, somewhat inexplicably. So as I emerged from the gates of the school I spotted Ausrine waiting on the street out front with hundreds of other students, some boarding busses and most struggling to reach the cars that clogged the street awaiting them. Ausrine turned around the moment I thought to call for her, leaving a brief moment of eye contact before my voice reached her. I can’t imagine she thought I could hear her over the crowd but in halting hand gestures I explained my route home and she accepted my invitation to join me on my stroll.

“So you live by Nyazrin Park, then? Or where?” My eyes were fixed on her hair, I hardly noticed the battle she fought to keep her satchel upon herself and how often she brushed her hair out of her eyes.

“Oh, no. I live that way-” She pointed the opposite way we had been walking. “Down Maisie Lane, off of Sakahlin Street.”  So she lived by me! I was damn curious why she’d be walking the opposite way she lived then, but so was I, and it wasn’t my place to pry. The park turned out to be an exquisite portion of magically-tended land surrounding the district grammar school with a scenic ornamental lake at the far end. We sat on a hill while I waited for my uncle, close enough to see the street but far enough from the public path. She had attended this school, she had been to this park many times, her father had taken her here and... Her father was calling her when my attention snapped back to reality. As much as I’d like to say it was still the hair that was captivating me, well the way we’d been laying on the hillside gave me plenty of time to lose track of myself in other ways.

“Sorry, that’s my Father calling, one moment.” She smiled and fished an amethyst pendant on a frail gold chain out of her blouse and squeezed it in her palm. “Hello? ...Didn’t Mama tell you? ... No Father the park by the Junior Academy! ... Yes, where I went to school! ... No send Mama then. ... You never listen! No, no, just come there then that’s fine. ... Yes, goodbye.”

“Is that a Glassheart?” I was constantly being impressed by the new marvels and magic baubles of the capitol, but the countless uses of an enchanted stone and a chain never cease to amaze me, even to this day. Now any two humans with an empathic link could ask a wizard to infuse portions of their minds with some Aether conductive magic trinket, but this of course is an extravagant gesture with the dawn of telephones and reliable postage. It wasn’t until the Nexus Corporation created a fully programmable “Glassheart” type pendant that very many people carried around any kind of Audiolith. It wasn’t just for crazed lovers or mortal enemies, anyone with an Electronic Audiolith could open a line to anyone else who had one. Not without syncing at first, and early on the most expensive models could only record up to six contacts.

Now Ausrine unhooked the chain and took it off her neck, dangling it above my hand as I admired the intricate fusion of transistors and clockwork, all packed behind a single almond sized Amethyst gemstone. It lit up in my palm and I felt the cold tingle of magic work up my spine. Ausrine must have recognized my surprise, and looked into my eyes curiously. I could see her of course, but since I was holding the pendant I could also behold its contents in a exclusive illusion before my eyes. Contacts, messages, music... Contacts. Father, Mama, Anya, Dany... Who was Dany? I navigated the illusion back to messages, and sought to pry even farther but she must have recognized the vacant look in my eyes and snatched the pendant from my palm.

“Do you like it?” She stared down bashfully as she fiddled to reconnect the pendant behind her head.

“Those are.. Amazing, yeah! Here let me help you with that.” I crawled around in the dirt behind her struggling to find a balance on my knees on the hill.

“Do you have one? Mine’s just a worthless shard, not even a Nexus model.” She spread her hair apart and passed the delicate links to me to rejoin behind her pale neck. I fumbled for several minutes with the loops while she explained how she only really had an Audiolith because of her status as an only child. “The just want to check on me, day and night, they’ll call me from the only other room in our apartment sometimes and my Father still does not know he cannot speak to me while I’m at school! Hey are you getting anywhere back there? That tickles! Give me that and let me see your ‘lith and we’ll sync them.” She boldly nudged me as she turned around and I sat down to face her on her level and to confess I didn’t have a device to connect with hers, but I was flattered by her offer. I was prepared to confess this, when a telltale hissing entered my peripheral hearing and the screech of some familiar brakes echoed from up the hill behind me. My uncle peered down as if to check if it was me before sounding the car’s whistle and horn. I waved and gathered my belongings and told Ausrine I had to go.

She looked dismayed, and peered at her pendant momentarily (to check the time I presume) before nodding to agree. She lingered a moment too long after I started staggering up the hill and gave me the courage to turn back and offer her a handshake good-bye. She took this gesture with vigor and shook hard, leaving me with red marks where her fingertips had pressed. Waving, Ausrine started down the hill, still fiddling with her Audiolith behind her neck.

“Well, well! Big man! I could have driven the car down into that park if you needed me to pick you up from your date! Look at you, you have dirt all over your pants. Brush off a bit before you get in here.” I panted and bent down to dust off my trousers but my uncle reached out of the car and patted me on the back and signaled to get in the back. “Who’s the babe? She rich?”

“Ausrine, and I’m not sure. She has one of those crystalline trinkets around her neck, I was wondering where you could buy one.”

“Good question! You’ll like where I’m taking you today then, I got off work early to take you to the Nexus Bazaar. Your money’s in this box, right?” He tossed the padlocked lunch pail into the backseat with me as we careened through the streets, faster and faster into the blur of other cars and trolleys. It was another nerve-wracking ten minutes holding on for dear life in the backseat, with the added bonus of clinging to my life savings as an extra thrill. We parked a few blocks away from the grandiose Nexus department store but I could see its black facade rising over the surrounding gray stone streets. Outside I stood transfixed below the Golden N above the entryway, but once I passed through those black glass sliding doors I was ushered into a haze of frenzied purchasing the likes of which I had never beheld.

Hearts All of Glass 2: Day One

Part two of many more, Enjoy:

“When presented with a great opportunity, when faced with a brave new challenge, are we -- the mightiest empire the world has yet seen -- not obligated to meet it with valor? Each brave young person in this nation is bound by their birth to become a force of history! I urge all of you to face the future with fervent resolve. Victory flows through your very veins! In this crucial moment in our empire’s march to glory, you are all champions of the national spirit. Go, make your homeland proud by what you choose! The path to glory is paved in bold actions and virtuous courage! All of you, promise yourselves one thing. Promise to take every step towards victory, no matter the cost or apprehension! The sons and daughters of Deltora do not hesitate to take what they want and overstep fear’s grasp!”

-Queen Elaine Glasskard, Youth day Imperial decree, Siphrobion 30th, 6011

I took her advice to heart. I had my own radio in my room at my uncle's flat, and used it to acquaint myself with the music and slang of the city. Many stations played new genres of music I was astounded to learn existed. I never once heard swing or electronica in my hometown growing up, and in fact I'd heard very little music aside from the live performances of old ballads and harvest dance songs from the old army band which resided at the tavern most of a turn. To have so much music readily available to me was overwhelming, I must have spend hours listening to the radio at first, while I leisurely read the old leather bound books my grandfather lent me when I left.

As you may have guessed by my authorship, I have always been quite bookish, to the extent that I often neglected to participate in public sports or the any athletic teams. I didn’t make me unfit, as I was still bound to the compulsory physical education at school, and did a great deal of walking myself, but when it came to my ability to throw balls or kick them, my performance was lackluster to say the least. Now in my hometown I had come to pace myself in reading so much, as I knew my grandparent’s collection was limited and I wasn’t often able to visit the library in the neighboring town. One day, before my uncle took me to the academy offices to enroll me, I wandered several miles away from the aerodrome, to a huge glass-domed temple; practically a palace of literature. The West End library was supposedly the smallest of the city’s five libraries but as I reverently crossed through the doorway I felt as if I could spend a lifetime there.

When I came home, my uncle showed his first sign of irritation at me.

“Where were you?” He growled in a stern voice I had not heard yet.

“I walked to the library. I’m sorry I’m late.”

“You missed dinner. Give me that book.” He tore the thin adventure novel from my hands and examined it. He gave me a suspicious look and broke out in his usual jovial laughter. Shoving the book back in my hands he took Mei by the waist and swaggered away. “Very well, light out now, and no radio, you have school tomorrow!”

I was perplexed by his attitude towards me. Distinctly more indifferent than my father’s, but somehow more hostile too. I didn’t think much of it at first and simply took a discarded muffin from the table and ate it in my room. I could hardly sleep that night, I could hardly sleep any night at first, the city’s constant murmur and glow just beyond the window pane was enough to keep me alert all night as I tried to guess what was in store for me at my new school. I never could have guessed I’d meet her there.

I asked my uncle why we walked to the Blackheart Academy’s high walled campus instead of taking his steam-car, but he gave a dismissive grunt and held open the iron gates of the school grounds. The entire campus was contained in an enclosed city block, with a large looming centralized hall full of classrooms with an office and the gymnasium contained in the building’s two wings. The quad was deserted, as it was early in the morning when we arrived to register, and I saw no students on the grassy field out front of the hall or seated at the many tables scattered here and there.

“Name, birth date, and identity card.” A rather impersonal clerical witch had me enrolled within minutes and informed us that my father had taken care of my tuition there in advance, I had only to get my uniform and return when school started that day. The tailor down the street was done with me quickly and before I knew it I was dressed up in a typical student’s blazer, dark blue, of course, with matching trousers and a tan knit vest. I admired the spiral crest emblazoned on the left breast of my jacket and began my habit of rubbing it for good luck as I crossed the street again. I wished my uncle goodbye, and entered through the gates, just as the morning bells sounded. I was accustomed to many students at the academy in my hometown, as they all came from the entire county to be educated, but the sheer density of this school was stunning. I meekly shuffled to class that first day admiring every aspect of the hulking modern school hall, and the first day flew by without very much conversation to any of my fellow students.

The second day, though, was a different story. My class schedule was boring routine of Deltoran literature, history, maths, physical sciences, and gym class, livened only by the random elective I was placed in. I had desperately hoped I would land in alchemy or creative writing, but it was in theatre arts I was assigned. I had nearly fallen asleep in there the first day, the over-enthusiastic golden haired man onstage flaunted himself about with a passion for acting I did not share. My uncle crudely commented that night that it was the class all the future courtesans took, and I should help myself to the plethora of easily swayed girls in there. Mei playfully slapped him with her long white glove and dinner continued in silence.

I did notice the imbalance of the sexes the next day, however, as we had been instructed to sit in a circle onstage and envision shapes out of cut scraps of paper we had been given. Beside me were two girls who giggled and chatted across me as if I did not exist, and snatched the colored pencils I had been using to color in their own scraps of paper. We had to illustrate what we envisioned those scraps of paper to be by coloring in the white space to clarify. I sat idle for a few minutes, discreetly spying for the colors I wanted, feeling amused by the elementary level of this assignment. I took to scoping out the girls in the class, and found them all surprisingly young, maybe only a grade below me but looking fresh out of middle school either way.

A couple of the ladies did catch my attention, either through meaningful glances across the circle of students, or by virtue of their figures. These city girls, I had noticed, had a habit of being graciously endowed and it came as a shock how openly they flaunted their assets. That is to say, it was startling at the time, though even the most radical Blackheart fashion of back then would come across as fairly conservative today. A lone redhead in the shadows peaked my interest the most, partially because she looked so very engulfed in shading in her scrap of paper, and somewhat because of her long auburn veil of hair covering her face, but mostly due to how she sat. Most indecorously hunched over her paper, she sat on the stage with her legs bent at opposite angles to her body as if she has just fallen from the sky and broken both her legs. I was tempted to ask if that hurt, but then I was startled to realize I was already walking over to her for reasons unknown.

I’m glad I didn’t ask how it felt to sit that way, but what came out of my mouth was less than inspirational. The Queen’s speech had possessed me for certain.

“Can I use that red pencil, when you’re done?”

Hearts All of Glass 1: Moving House

At last, I present to you some actual writing. Set on Shaar of course, this is the story of a young student's exploits in the capitol of Deltora, as well as a unique viewpoint on the world of Shaar through the eyes of an indifferent adolescent.

“The time has come for great changes in our society! In this coming war each and every one of you will decide the fate of our great nation, and in doing so, the fate of the world! Be proud, stand strong, and unite with confidence knowing that what we fight for -- what we do -- is right. I urge you all to do your part, be it on the field of battle or here at home. These times call for unquestioning loyalty, unfathomable devotion, and most of all strength, drawn from love, love of country which we all share.

Many a time in history great conquerors have been viewed as villains, and I assure you, the same will be said of us! But are not all great peoples envied for their success? Is it not natural for cowards to fear change? As your Queen, I promise you, the feelings of righteous fervor for country and for our cause are nothing other than just and true! Indeed, we take bold measures to ensure the survival of our race- but ultimately it is us who bring balance! We are the justified, the clear-sighted- and soon, the victorious.”

-Queen Elaine Glasskard, Independence Day National Radio Address, Herak 13th, 6008

She was wrong, of course, but who could have known at the time? That speech was the first time I really paid any mind to national affairs, as it was on the wireless in my grandfather’s workshop on during the festivities when I was six. One turn later, the war really did start, and I wasn’t phased by it in the least. Middle school came and went, and it wasn’t until the eve of my second turn in secondary school that the fateful orders came through to our city. In a discreet letter, rather than a confident radio speech, it was announced that due to the threat of enemy bombing, all youths below fighting age were required to move out of all cities and towns west of the Hel’Shaar province. It was decided that my younger siblings would reside in Yekratos, a bleak seaside village where my mother’s parents lived, as far East as my parents could afford to send them. This was before Kragos had joined the war, so the Eastern shores were thought to be safe. I couldn’t dream of quitting school to spend the rest of the war by the acrid coast, so I begged and pleaded with my parents to send me instead to my father’s brother Boris, my estranged uncle who worked for the railway in Blackheart. He was unmarried, living in a squalid flat above a cigar shoppe by the western aerodrome of the city.

I wrote to him repeatedly in the weeks before the deadline, with no reply. It was not until three days before we were to leave that my cousins came running into town to inform me that there was a call on my grandfather’s telephone, and it was for me. I ran up the hill to the manor where my grandparents lived and raced through the door without stopping to greet my grandmother as she opened the door. I snatched the receiver from another cousin, and in my best rehearsed telephone manners said:

“Hello, this is Dmitri Vladinova, may I ask your name?” There was a pause, then came a muted reply:

 “Hey kid, it’s your uncle Boris. You still want to come live in Blackheart?”

“You got my letters? I.. I mean yes, of course!”

“Take a train to Kamtcheska in two days, I can pick you up there.”

“Yes, uncle, thank you. But why there? We have enough to buy a ticket to Blackheart I, am sure.”

“Yes but you don’t want to bother with a big city station, trust me, I work there. Remember, Kamtcheska. It’s a suburb, oh- perhaps thirty miles out of Blackheart. I’ll meet you there.” I was stunned with excitement and relief, I managed a few more thank-yous and asked what to bring. “Anything you want, just tell your father he owes me big. Take care kid, be there in two days, don’t forget.” And with a fuzzy click he was disconnected.

It was no small feat informing my parents of the abrupt change of plans, and as I had no proof of what he had said on the phone they were vexed to pay a small fortune to send a telegram to him in the city. The next morning he replied, frankly stating that yes infact he had invited me to stay with him. My father was less than pleased to have sent the telegram when my uncle could have simply written back to me in a timely fashion, so I was hesitant to ask him about the money which my uncle had mentioned. It was at dawn, during breakfast, that I confided in my grandfather that I had no idea what to do, and he heartily laughed and offered me a thick stack of sovereigns which he said should satisfy my uncle.

The next few hours were a blur of tearful goodbyes and worthless promises to keep in touch with schoolmates. My sibling’s train had come an hour earlier and when I departed it was only my mother and father who waved goodbye on the platform. A long monotonous dance of shifting in my seat came next, and it was midmorning the following day when the conductor prodded me awake to ask if this was my stop. I peered out the window, my eyes glazed with sleep and smoke... I squinted to read the station sign and indeed it was my stop, and I kindly thanked the man before dragging my luggage out the door. On the platform I breathed in my surroundings.

Only a couple dozen miles away from the capitol, I could feel the distinct change from my hometown. Overhead the largest steel clad airship I had ever seen hummed lazily across the sky. Around me the buildings were tight packed and the maze of houses seemed to spread endlessly around me, with a few lonely clock towers or temples poking out in the haze. My uncle was late, and I wandered the platform for nearly an hour before I was overwhelmed with the urge to sit beside the girl on the bench by the track and strike up a conversation. She was holding a travel bag, and looking intently down the track when I finally mustered the courage to start to approach her. Looking as casual as possible I sat down beside her and opened my mouth to speak. A motor’s hissing roar and two notes on a car’s horn drowned out whatever I meant to say. I was still looking at her as she glared past me at a bright red steam-car pulled aside on the road by the tracks.

“Dmitri!” My uncle shouted, indifferent to the crowd of people on the platform starting at him. “Climb in, let’s go!”

I politely nodded to the girl on the bench and stood up. I maybe even also uttered a “sorry” but who knows. I was mildly surprised to see a fashionable woman in the passenger’s seat with her arm around my uncle. “Dmitri?”She asked, extending a gloved hand to shake. “My name’s Mei, a pleasure to meet you.” My uncle laughed, bold and crude, and told me to get in the back. I had never ridden in an open top steam-car before then, and the ride was fairly unpleasant to me, although I blamed it on being far too accustomed to dull miller town life. I held onto my hat and fished through my belongings for the money, although I couldn't find it considering the way my uncle drove. In the front, he and Mei flirted, oblivious to my presence until my uncle looked back and said: “Gods above, look at you, how you’ve grown! What are you, eight turns old now?”

“Seven.”  He laughed some more at this.

“Well, first we need to get you some new clothes! You look like you’ve just stepped out of the last century. Gods above, I know just where to get you suited- don’t you worry.” I nodded urgently, hoping he’d fix his eyes on the road sooner, if possible. He asked me a few more things on the trip back to the city and I answered mostly in single syllables. After a while the interrogation stopped and he stayed quiet while Mei introduced herself in full. She was Helio’Sharran, as evidenced by her almond shaped eyes and high cheek bones, although she was dressed like a singer at the most exclusive Operin nightclub. Her short bobbed hair and cloche hat, combined with her knee length dress and bare upper arms was a far sight different from how my mother and sisters dressed in my hometown. She told me how she came to live in Blackheart, and what she did for a living, but by this time we had crossed the Ellys river and were certainly entering the the capitol. The buildings grew taller and the sky grew grey, the air choked with exhaust and cigarette smoke. I marveled at the uniform grace of each shop and apartment, at the world famous monuments and parks at every other street corner. Never in my life had I seen so many people and automobiles and streetcars and airships and certainly never all at once! Nor the magic. Out in the country, there was only a sole witch’s shop. As a veteran of the Sand Wars she was nearing a hundred turns old in her isolated lab. Farmers came to her each turn for spells for their crops and my grandfather often consulted her, as mayors are apt to do. The owner of the granary was also a wizard, yet he hardly showed his face in town, rumor had it that a rival sorcerer had disfigured him in a duel, or as another tale went that he made a pact with a demon to win the heart of a woman he loved, but when she died the demon left him as well, aged and decrepit beyond his natural age.  
Here, it seemed, magic was omnipresent. I saw on the sidewalks aspiring wizards cast dazzling illusions over crowds, and above I saw countless varieties of sorcerers transformed into so many strange beasts to fly. Soldiers wandered the crowds as well, the ones stationed in the capital still donning bright azure uniforms, as opposed to the pale grey of the men on the front. The color of the uniforms came to reflect the state of the war but it was still approximately an entire turn before the soldiers in the streets of Blackheart would be wearing black, rushing to put out fires and dashing to shield their younger siblings from shrapnel with their bodies. No, things were very much in Deltora’s favor it seemed, and despite the order to relocate the children, the war was still very much undecided.

Now up three flights of dark smoky stairs to a stained door at the end of the hall, I saw where I would live the next couple turns. Apartment 24, 1029 Sakahlin street,  Blackheart, Kulikov Province. He unlocked the door and slipped inside, Mei kicked off her shoes and sat unceremoniously on a sofa across the room. It was very small compared to what I was used to, with low concrete ceilings and a central kitchen-and-lounge. My uncle gestured to the left and told me I was welcome to the spare bedroom, and he in turn went right, towards the larger master bedroom, which had an adjoining washroom. Nobody gave me any further directions so I shrugged and set about unpacking my things. My room was a small but well lit dwelling at the corner of the building, and its two windows gave a wide view of the busy street below and the roaring aerodrome a couple blocks away. I put my trunk on the floor and flipped onto my bed, producing a startling squeal of rusty springs from the mattress. I sat up and bounced in place to test this noise before opening my luggage and putting my remaining clothes and sketchbooks into the dresser drawers.

At supper we sat at round table in the kitchen, and my uncle and Mei chatted while they ate. This was common practice to them, in contrast with family dinner in my grandfather’s house. Every night in my hometown it was more often a solemn affair, with a mealtime blessing and scores of cousins sitting at the long wooden table, arranged by age. Embarrassed with nothing to say, I fished out the wad of cash from my trousers and offered it to my uncle.

“What’s this?” He said through a mouthful of pork.

“From my father,” I lied. “For taking me in.” My words hung in the air for a moment while my uncle and Mei exchanged an amused glance. He swallowed and burst out laughing. “My boy, I was only joking about him owing me! I see now you have a bit of spending money- That’s good, you’re in luck.”

“I.. You don’t want it? I can keep it?” He chuckled some more and explained that it was mine to spend or invest or gamble away. He couldn't accept money from his brother anyhow. I was tempted to ask how he had become estranged from my core family, but I could tell by his apparent lifestyle that the answer was probably obvious.

“We’ve got to get you enrolled in school. It started last week here in Blackheart.”

School Days

"Never let your schooling interfere with your education." -Mark Twain

   It's times likes these that I appreciate the words of the great American authors. While nobody ever said writing was easy, it's playing the servant of two masters between the monsters of school and storytelling. School demands a certain amount of analytical thinking and very few novel ideas, but make no mistake, the volume of work demanded is taxing indeed, for both my fingers, and the poor helpless trees doomed have my endless essays and notes printed out on. This of course would be fine, as it's what's expected of all students in classes of the same level. But in my case, I'm afflicted with the need to go above and beyond this call for prose. It's my dear keyboard that must suffer the most, though, nearly all the keys are worn down and twice replaced, and the entire searing laptop's virtually burning a hole into my lap as I write the nights away, weaving story after story, even after homework is long past due.
      That being said, somewhere while writing Shaar I found time to write a short story set in the same universe, an adorably naive tale of high school romance and drama set amidst the chaos of the Shaarian backdrop. Look forward to weekly installments of: Hearts All of Glass, the story of a boy and a girl, young and innocent in the face of global war.