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“That's true, but he probably has very different feelings about this whole thing. He probably feels very angry, even now, that I never told him about my bloodline, although I never had any idea that I had a mixed heritage or that it would even matter to him as much as it did. Moving on is probably the only thing he could do to make himself feel better.” Delyth smiled. “I can imagine the priest of Herne picking him out a beautiful woman with a perfect bloodline as far as they know.”
“Don't you ever feel jealous?”
“What about?”
“That he feels free to move on because he sees you as the betrayed and that he got to keep everything when we had to run for our lives.”
“Róisín, if anything I feel sorry for him, because he felt that a bloodline was more important than the time we spent together as a handfasted couple. I handfasted him when I was seventeen because I thought he was different to the other Dorma men I had met, who were all obsessed with bloodlines.” Delyth sighed. “I remember during that time several girls, and their families, went missing. We always knew why, but there never seemed to be anything we could do to stop it.”
“Who's we?” Genevieve asked.
“There was a small group of us, three girls, including me, and four boys, who couldn't understand the obsession with having pure Dorma blood. We had all been brought up to appreciate the differences between the three races, which I think now is a sign that we had a mixed heritage. At the time we were fourteen, fifteen, and sixteen, so it was always obvious that whoever it was had been chosen by one of the Dorma boys, their bloodline had been researched, and it had been found out that there was a mixed heritage. One day they would be walking round the village, doing their usual jobs, and the next their entire family would be gone, with no warning at all.” She sighed. “Even if we did have some warning I can't imagine what we would have done because none of us knew of anywhere safe.”
“What do you think happened to them?” Róisín asked, her voice quiet.
“The same thing that would have happened to us, darling, if Gen hadn't known about North Square.”
“Why didn't you get found out earlier?”
“I honestly don't know. The only thing I can think is that it was because Mother moved to our village to handfast Father. Up until then I don't know where she lived.”
“There are family trees in my house,” Genevieve said, “so, if you wanted, we could look at where your mother came from.”
“It would be fascinating. I didn't know much about Father's family either, but I know he had spent his whole life in our village. Maybe tomorrow would be good, if you can bring them over to my house.”
“Of course I can, Mother. They're there for the whole village to look at. I could make you a copy if you wanted.”
“I hate to say this, Gen, but you have awful handwriting.” Róisín smiled at her. “You should leave that to someone else.”
Genevieve smiled back. “Maybe you're right.” She shrugged. “There's a lot of books in my house that I can't read because they seem to be in a totally different language, even some of the family trees begin in those languages, so I'm hoping that someone will be able to translate them.”
“I'm sure someone will, darling,” Delyth replied. “We all know that it won't be long until someone makes a move, and that will be when North Square will really come into use.”
Sighing, Genevieve thought about the reason the town had been built. No one could read the history books, but the story had been passed down the generations from those first residents, who had all then been a part of the sect of Hecate. Hecate had known that something would happen and had told her priests and priestesses, so they had built North Square in order to be a sanctuary. Up until the day that someone had burnt every history book the three races owned people had known about the town and had moved there is they needed to. When the books were lost, North Square was lost. Only the true priests and priestess even knew it existed.
It was strange to think of herself as a true priestess. Genevieve remembered, vaguely, the priest and the priestess from the village, and they had always seemed as though they truly were connected with their deities. When she found out that they weren't, and that most of the other priests and priestesses had no connection to their deities either, she had always felt a little dirty. There was no way anyone could know that she truly was a priestess of Hecate, so Genevieve tried her hardest to prove to everyone that she was. From what Róisín had said it seemed like it was working.
“I wish it didn't have to,” Róisín said thoughtfully. “North Square is a wonderful place, but I would love for it to be a part of Thear rather than set apart from it.” She sighed. “This should be Thear, but instead it's one town, and Thear itself is probably going to be pulled apart by the different groups.”
“Unfortunately that's not going to happen,” Delyth said, “because people are never satisfied with what they have. We have a home filled with a mix of races that should work together in order to get the best from everyone, but instead each race perceives themselves as better than the others.” She shrugged. “At some point, hopefully, they'll realise the races need to work together otherwise everything will fall apart.”
“Or it will fall apart and we'll be left to tidy up the mess,” Genevieve muttered.
“What do you think's more likely?” Róisín asked.
© K A Jones 2011
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
This entry was originally posted at http://kajones-writing.dreamwidth.org/42536.html. It currently has
comments.
Read the second part of this story (LJ link).
Read the third part of this story (LJ link).
“That's true, but he probably has very different feelings about this whole thing. He probably feels very angry, even now, that I never told him about my bloodline, although I never had any idea that I had a mixed heritage or that it would even matter to him as much as it did. Moving on is probably the only thing he could do to make himself feel better.” Delyth smiled. “I can imagine the priest of Herne picking him out a beautiful woman with a perfect bloodline as far as they know.”
“Don't you ever feel jealous?”
“What about?”
“That he feels free to move on because he sees you as the betrayed and that he got to keep everything when we had to run for our lives.”
“Róisín, if anything I feel sorry for him, because he felt that a bloodline was more important than the time we spent together as a handfasted couple. I handfasted him when I was seventeen because I thought he was different to the other Dorma men I had met, who were all obsessed with bloodlines.” Delyth sighed. “I remember during that time several girls, and their families, went missing. We always knew why, but there never seemed to be anything we could do to stop it.”
“Who's we?” Genevieve asked.
“There was a small group of us, three girls, including me, and four boys, who couldn't understand the obsession with having pure Dorma blood. We had all been brought up to appreciate the differences between the three races, which I think now is a sign that we had a mixed heritage. At the time we were fourteen, fifteen, and sixteen, so it was always obvious that whoever it was had been chosen by one of the Dorma boys, their bloodline had been researched, and it had been found out that there was a mixed heritage. One day they would be walking round the village, doing their usual jobs, and the next their entire family would be gone, with no warning at all.” She sighed. “Even if we did have some warning I can't imagine what we would have done because none of us knew of anywhere safe.”
“What do you think happened to them?” Róisín asked, her voice quiet.
“The same thing that would have happened to us, darling, if Gen hadn't known about North Square.”
“Why didn't you get found out earlier?”
“I honestly don't know. The only thing I can think is that it was because Mother moved to our village to handfast Father. Up until then I don't know where she lived.”
“There are family trees in my house,” Genevieve said, “so, if you wanted, we could look at where your mother came from.”
“It would be fascinating. I didn't know much about Father's family either, but I know he had spent his whole life in our village. Maybe tomorrow would be good, if you can bring them over to my house.”
“Of course I can, Mother. They're there for the whole village to look at. I could make you a copy if you wanted.”
“I hate to say this, Gen, but you have awful handwriting.” Róisín smiled at her. “You should leave that to someone else.”
Genevieve smiled back. “Maybe you're right.” She shrugged. “There's a lot of books in my house that I can't read because they seem to be in a totally different language, even some of the family trees begin in those languages, so I'm hoping that someone will be able to translate them.”
“I'm sure someone will, darling,” Delyth replied. “We all know that it won't be long until someone makes a move, and that will be when North Square will really come into use.”
Sighing, Genevieve thought about the reason the town had been built. No one could read the history books, but the story had been passed down the generations from those first residents, who had all then been a part of the sect of Hecate. Hecate had known that something would happen and had told her priests and priestesses, so they had built North Square in order to be a sanctuary. Up until the day that someone had burnt every history book the three races owned people had known about the town and had moved there is they needed to. When the books were lost, North Square was lost. Only the true priests and priestess even knew it existed.
It was strange to think of herself as a true priestess. Genevieve remembered, vaguely, the priest and the priestess from the village, and they had always seemed as though they truly were connected with their deities. When she found out that they weren't, and that most of the other priests and priestesses had no connection to their deities either, she had always felt a little dirty. There was no way anyone could know that she truly was a priestess of Hecate, so Genevieve tried her hardest to prove to everyone that she was. From what Róisín had said it seemed like it was working.
“I wish it didn't have to,” Róisín said thoughtfully. “North Square is a wonderful place, but I would love for it to be a part of Thear rather than set apart from it.” She sighed. “This should be Thear, but instead it's one town, and Thear itself is probably going to be pulled apart by the different groups.”
“Unfortunately that's not going to happen,” Delyth said, “because people are never satisfied with what they have. We have a home filled with a mix of races that should work together in order to get the best from everyone, but instead each race perceives themselves as better than the others.” She shrugged. “At some point, hopefully, they'll realise the races need to work together otherwise everything will fall apart.”
“Or it will fall apart and we'll be left to tidy up the mess,” Genevieve muttered.
“What do you think's more likely?” Róisín asked.
© K A Jones 2011
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
This entry was originally posted at http://kajones-writing.dreamwidth.org/42536.html. It currently has
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Date: 2011-12-31 04:26 am (UTC)I think that should say "betrayer" above.
>>people had known about the town and had moved there is they needed to.<<
That should say "as" above.
>>Only the true priests and priestess even knew it existed.<<
That should say "priestesses" above.
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