Dusty followed Master Stuart down the long path past the (thankfully) empty benches and toward the throne where her grandmother sat. With each step, Dusty desperately tried to come up with an idea. Not a guard. She didn't like hitting people, even in practice. Not a healer because she had no such magical gifts which also meant she couldn't be a mage, either. She might become a personal servant to the Queen, but she'd always been klutzy. Maybe she'd grow out of it?
Scribe? She had neat penmanship, at least. That future didn't sound very exciting -- and Dusty had always dreamed of adventures -- but at least she'd be able to write about other people's adventures.
One of the servants had just handed Queen Olivia a piece of paper. She scowled at the note, and that gave Dusty a moment to get ready. Being a scribe as not what she wanted -- but a princess did have limitations, after all. She couldn't run off on an adventure.
She bowed to the queen when the woman turned her way, and behaved quite properly, though she really wanted to run and hide.
"Ah, Princess Destiny," Queen Olivia said. She still held the paper in her hand, but she smiled now. "Welcome to your choosing. What future do you see for yourself, my dear?"
Dusty took a deep breath and lifted her head. "I would like to be a scri--scri --"
She choked on the word and looked appalled.
"Oh dear," Master Stuart said. "I think that is not the word you really want to say, is it Princess Destiny?"
"I -- I don't know what I want!" she finally admitted and tried not to wail. This was not fair. She'd have to wait two more years and appear with her younger cousins. Everyone would make fun of her. "A -- a scribe is a good choice, though, don't you think?"
"It might be," Master Stuart agreed though he looked bothered. "However, your choice shouldn't be a last moment decision. I'm sorry I failed you, Dusty."
Dusty wasn't certain which surprised her more -- the words or that he called her by the name she preferred. "This is my fault, sir," she corrected. "I saw all the others choose their way and I assumed something would come to me. I'm sorry."
The queen glanced at the paper in her hand and then gave a decisive nod. "I fear I will not be able to hear your choice today, Destiny. There is some trouble in the North, and I must meet with the people immediately. This matter will take at least two days and maybe more. I hope you don't mind the delay."
"Oh, thank you, Grandmother," she said and bowed, tears of gratitude coming to her eyes.
Queen Olivia went with her guards out the door. Dusty could see a few of her friends gathered to wait for her, and they looked shocked when the Queen appeared instead. Dusty saw a series of quick bows before the door closed. How could she face them?
"I think we need to talk, Destiny," Master Stuart said. "Come along."
Dusty followed him out another door and up the stairs to where he had taught the group of cousins for so many years. His steps seemed heavy and he shook his head. Dusty suspected she would be lectured.
They didn't go to the classroom, but instead to his office. He chased off the assistants and closed the door before he crossed to sit at his desk. He waved her to the chair before him and she settled in with a sigh.
"You have always been so quick to help others that I never thought you had no plans of your own. I see now that you never pointed in any single direction."
"What shall I do, Master Stuart?" she asked. "What should I choose?"
"I can't tell you that, Destiny. I wish matters were that easy. The truth is, I always found you to be rather unique. I cannot imagine you in the future as a scribe -- or a cook, or any of the other choices your cousins made. We must think this one out, my dear. Don't worry. There is a future for you -- we just need to look at things that are out of the ordinary."
"Oh," she said and felt a smile start to grow for the first time all day. "I like that idea!"
"I shall need to do some study," he said. A bird came to the window and he gave it a nod, as though they were friends. "You always seem to have a few animal companions, Destiny, haven't you?"
"They do seem to follow me everywhere," she admitted. "My cousins didn't like the cats, but they've been rather rude about the mice."
A smile almost came to his lips. "I imagine so. Take the afternoon to think about your future. I will study and I believe we can find something that will work for you. Go on now."
Dusty stood, feeling a great welling of relief. "Thank you, sir."
She headed back down the stairs, though she carefully avoided any places where she might run into friends and relatives. She could give the simple answer about the queen and the trouble in the north, but she'd have no reason not to tell them her choice.
Dusty slipped out of the castle through the kitchens, narrowly avoiding Geren who was thrilled to know he would be working with Cook. She hurried past the other workers and out the door into the garden. From there she crossed behind the sheds and out into the edge of the courtyard.
She decided a walk through town would help clear her mind. Dusty regretted wearing her good green dress still, but she'd be careful. Just a nice, peaceful walk along the roads and fountains while she decided what to say to the others.
Unfortunately, her plans didn't work out that way.
To Be Continued
991 Words
The breeze woke Destiny as the familiar scent of the desert drifted into the castle tower where she and her cousins slept. Dawn light showed a trio of birds watching over her from the windowsill. She smiled and shooed them away to the oasis below. One of the castle cats had found his way to her bed, too. Not a surprise since one usually slept with her.
The others were already dressing. Usually, she woke first. Her cousins sounded excited. Why --
Then she remembered! Today everyone in her age group who lived in the castle, royal or not, would make a presentation to the queen to say what they wanted to do in life. If they choose wisely, this would be the first step to adulthood. Destiny desperately wanted that step forward. Sharing a set of rooms with her four cousins had become increasingly difficult.
Her own fault, she suspected. Destiny just couldn't fit in with the others.
"Destiny must still be asleep!" Carina laughed from out in the main room.
"I'm not!" she shouted back and leapt from the bed in case they looked. She grabbed the clothing she'd put by the bed. How could she have overslept? Last night it seemed as though she wouldn't sleep at all!
Destiny didn't like to wear fancy dresses, but she had no choice today. At least the pale green looked lovely on her. She spent more time in the sun than most of her royal cousins, male or female, and her skin had grown darker and her hair bleached almost golden by the sunlight. She did not look like the other princesses, which she counted as good. Destiny had never pursued having fashionably tawny skin and dark hair. Her cousins hid in the castle away from the sunlight -- and away from any sort of freedom.
Today her cousins spent far more time than usual preparing, so she wasn't the last one ready to go down to breakfast. She tried not to sneeze at the perfumes, and she'd given up doing anything fancy with her hair.
Destiny wasn't hungry, but she didn't want the others to know how worried she felt about today's presentation. Everyone mumbled and laughed about the next step. There seemed to be an awful lot of them this year.
"Hey Dusty! Come sit with us!" Alitia shouted from across the room.
Destiny headed that way. People had called her Dusty for as long as she could remember, and the name suited her since she'd always been a tomboy and gotten into messy situations. She liked the name better than Destiny, but it was a child's name. She ought to start thinking about adult things since she'd turned twelve. If today somehow went well....
Alita, Geren, and Odesa were not royals, but they'd always been friends. They didn't appear as happy about the day as she had expected and even Geren picked at his cinnamon bread and barely sipped his tea. Master Stuart, the instructor who had taught them for the last four years, seemed to watch their table more than the other ones. It was like he knew --
The bell rang. Master Stuart went to the archway and looked back. "Come along. Don't dawdle. The Queen has other work to do!"
They lined up. As usual, a group of the boys took the lead, but mostly because they intended to go into the guard and had been training for it already, so this was not such a big step for them. The others, though --
Alita started to back away, but Dusty caught her arm. "You'll do fine."
"I won't, I won't," Alita whispered, her voice trembling. She stared with terror at the doors as Master Stuart took the first group through. Alita acted as though she'd never been to the Royal Hall or ever met the queen. "Oh, I never do anything right, and I so want to be a healer and help those who are ill and injured."
"You'll be wonderful at the work," Dusty reassured her.
"Do you really think so?"
"Yes, absolutely," Dusty said. Alita had an excellent touch for healing magic, and she'd proved it several times already. "You just tell the Queen about how you cared for the young owl and the old fox I brought to you. She'll understand."
"Oh. I can talk about what I've done. Yes! She'll know then that I have thought about this very hard!" Teresa marched right up to the door beside Donid and Kratis, and they looked surprised to see her so proud and happy. They even let her go in next when Master Stuart opened the door.
Good, because that little surge of hope wouldn't hold for long if Alita had to wait and fret, like Geren who paced back and forth from one side of the hall to the other. He'd always been high strung but now he looked likely to explode with the tension.
"What should I tell her? Royals don't usually go to work in the kitchens, but even Cook Nisie says I have the touch for it. But how to I explain about cooking bread? It sounds boring even to me, Dusty. I think I'm doomed to join the army --"
"Tell her how much the children loved the cookies you baked at solstice and how you helped Cook Nisie when she broke her foot. You are already doing the work. You won't shock her."
He nodded, though he looked less assured than Alita. Still, she had the feeling that things would go well for him. She even encouraged a few others and saw them go through the door. They all would leave by the far door at the other end of the Royal Hall, ready to begin their new lives.
Finally, in the end, only she remained Master Stuart opened the door and escorted Dusty inside to see the Queen.
A shame she still had no idea what she wanted to do with her life.
To Be Continued....
994 words
I had hoped to go to the mountains this last weekend, but things did not work out. I had expected that to happen, but I always kind of hope for some little surprise at the end. I haven't been to Rocky Mountain National Park for fourteen years now. The mountains, the desert, the ocean -- those are three things I love, but here I am in Nebraska pretty much far from any of them. Nebraska is not a bad place to be. I love the seasons and the storms -- but I still miss the other things. I haven't seen the ocean in a long, long time. The desert? Maybe 1997? The mountains were at least this century.
I hope that year fifteen will be the one when we get a chance to go. You never know -- it could happen. I might even make a few sales and be able to afford something as extravagant as one night away from home! LOL. Two nights? Nah. My books won't ever sell that well!
So what did I do this weekend instead? Well, we had an interesting storm on Friday. Lots and lots of pictures. Great clouds. Saturday was much cooler and quieter, which was nice. Didn't do much at all since Russ had company. Sunday we had a nice ride out to a local state park, and I got a few pictures, and then we took some dirt roads and headed towards home. I also spent some time cleaning up some shelves in the living room and hoping that I can get the area cleaned up enough to sometimes set up my photo studio equipment. I can't even say what I really want to do for pictures, but it would be fun to have the opportunity.
Oh yes, I did write. I am closing in on the last of part four for Tales of Grey Station 9. This one should be the final really major rewrite out of the group of ten parts. I might have everything done by mid-July, which would be nice. This will be my next Wattpad entry -- though I think I might drop a couple shorter pieces in there as well. I just thought of a fun new cover art project for Author Vs. Character. People enjoy that story, and since it's free on Smashwords (and part of NaNo for the New and the Insane), I might as well put it up on Wattpad as well. Oh, and do a quick edit, too.
So there are my projects. Must keep moving. Something might come of it yet!
One day Kimberly walked away.
She hadn't planned to escape, but she'd had one too many snide emails from fellow office workers and far too many demands for something Right Now from higher up the chain. The last had been an entire contradiction to the type of report the boss had demanded an hour before.
She'd read the note, considered mayhem, and then took her purse and walked out. This was not the first time she'd made such a choice at a job. Kimberly had walked out on pretentious professors who acted as though she hadn't a brain, to an obnoxious restaurant manager at peak time.
This had not been a conscious decision -- just something took over and kept her from screaming, throwing the computer off the desk, and maybe throwing a few things at others. Martha, who had the desk by the door, saw her heading out and gave a slight nod and a sigh. She'd probably seen such escapes before. No one could be happy working for the ill-named Better Life Company.
An hour later Kimberly walked through a shaded street. The older maples and oak trees formed a canopy over her head, blocking out the harsh light and at least giving the pretense of cooling the world around them. Summer in the city did not appeal to her.
I could shed my clothing, shed this human skin ... shed my assignment? Give up my wings?
Someday I'll fly away.
This wasn't the first time she'd said those words to herself, either. She held up her human hand and tried to remember it furred and clawed, a weapon to use against those that would intrude on a griffin's territory.
If only the humans had been content with their own place. If only they believed in magic. If only....
The trees did help. They reminded her of the far wild places -- there were still a few -- where her kind, and a few other shape-shifters still roamed. Those places were already marginal, though. They needed to be able to survive living with humans. She knew her work was important. So far, she'd been one of the few who could stand to be around humans for any length of time.
She even liked them when they were not being pretentious, over-bearing monsters with delusions of grandeur.
Jonathon met her at the door. She hadn't expected him to be home, too.
"I could sense you for about the last mile," he said with an unexpectedly bright smile. "I take it work did not go well?"
"I need to send an email resignation so they don't start looking for me like the last job," she said. "We don't want that mess again."
"True," Jonathon said and smiled again.
"You quit your job as well?" she asked.
"Oh yes. I have welded my last weld. I also told the boss what he could do with his welder."
"You have spent far too much time with humans."
"Maybe so, but tell me you didn't at least think something along the same line," he said as they headed into the kitchen.
"Maybe I'll put it in the email," she said. The idea appealed to her. She got a soda -- had taken a liking to those the last few years, along with the caffeine -- and sat at the table. Jonathon grabbed one as well. He still smiled. "You look far too happy considering we just failed again."
"Maybe so," he admitted. Then he shrugged. "We've been approaching this the wrong way, Kim. We've tried to be human in human places."
"I thought that was the idea."
"Yeah, but I think we need to make an adjustment and try for only half the equation."
"Not be humans in human places?" she said with a snort.
"Ha. As much as I'd like to go wild ... no. I have a better idea. How about if we go human in wild places instead?"
Jonathon pushed a paper over that had been sitting on the edge of the table. She hadn't noticed that it must have been reading it before now. It made no sense to her, though. She didn't know enough about human culture to see the chance he was offering.
"We can volunteer at one of the National Parks, Kim," he said with a touch of his hand on hers. Human contact still bothered her sometimes, and this one shocked her. "Their wild places, my friend."
"Volunteer? We don't get paid?"
"You have been spending far too much time in the human world. We don't need money. We can get what we want with magic. We can get the positions we want with magic, too -- just like we have been before now. We go to the wild areas, Kimberly. We go to where we can be ourselves, at least part of the time."
She had never seen such longing in him before and she let his emotions wash over her. Wild places. "Yes, let's do it."
A year later, she was still at the job. She even enjoyed helping humans and answering questions about the forest and mountain area she'd come to love and know so well. Others of their kind worked at various parks. They'd even used enough magic so that they didn't take jobs from the humans who deserved a chance to enjoy these places as well.
One day she saw a man and woman -- and the woman recognized her. "Kimberly! Look at you! I am so glad to see you are doing alright!"
Martha, who had sat at the desk by the door, hugged her like a long lost sister.
"You look good, too," Kimberly said. "Did you leave?"
"A week after you. And a month later the place closed down and two of the bosses are still in court over irregularities in their paperwork. I'm surprised no one contacted you. Though maybe they couldn't find you out here in this wilderness!"
"Maybe," she said and then smiled brighter. "Let me show you my world."
1000 Words
It is almost half way through the year. I keep thinking that I need to pick up my writing pace now, but the truth is that I really don't. I'm not certain why I think I've dropped way behind on anything. I'm sitting at 443,810 words for the year so far. I might manage to write another 56,190 words and reach the 500k mark before July 1, but I'm not actively pushing for it. I've published three novels and almost completed one WattPad novel (I should post the last of it before the end of the week). I rewrote and edited four older novels, wrote one new first draft with the start of a second, wrote and posted about 25 flash fiction pieces, and worked on four outlines for the upcoming November NaNo. Those last have a long ways to go.
I've taken several more courses from the Great Courses group: History of Ancient Egypt, The Night Sky, Decoding the Secrets of Egyptian Hieroglyphs, and I am part way through Oceanography. The hieroglyphs one has lead to more books and more study, too.
I am perpetually busy.
And I am never bored. Sitting somewhere outside my house with nothing to do? It doesn't happen often I keep notepads in my purse and I write notes about the current story or practice hieroglyphs. Often I have my Nook and I'll read and sometimes write on it as well. I've only read 18 books so far, so not quite one a week. Still, with everything else ... not bad.
I never leave the house without at least one of the cameras. Going for a short ride can net me a hundred pictures. I bring them home, load them into my computer, tag them, sort out the bad ones and work with one or two to post, and generally have a good time. I put one up every day for the picture of the day blog. I taken 6365 pictures, all nicely tagged in Lightroom, and did at least 152 pieces of art, mostly based on the photos.
What don't you see on this list?
Television.
Games.
There has to be a trade off somewhere, because there simply isn't enough time to do everything. I find writing more entertaining than most shows. I do on occasion binge on some series or movie I have on DVD, but those times are rare.
Except for some time on line, I am not a sociable person, either. Most of the time, I would rather be writing.
I worked out the problem for myself years ago: If I wanted to write, I had to make the time. If I wanted to write a lot, I needed to make a lot of time. No matter how fast you write, and how well you edit, creating a story takes time. Creating several a year takes as much determination as it does time. It also takes mental flexibility to easily move from one story to another. That takes practice. I am able to write something new in a first draft and switch over to editing something else. The stories are not the same and the process for each of those steps is entirely different.
Focus, too. Oh yes, if you can't ignore the outside world (and many of you don't have a choice -- you have to listen), then creating writing time becomes more difficult. At worst, my distractions are a group of cats all of whom seem to want to learn how to type. Zaphod is the most persistent. I sometimes leave his 'messages' in my first drafts and mark them with his name. Other times, I kick everyone out of the office and close the door.
And then I write some more.
