#i cannot allow my country to force me into submission i will not give up goddamnit i cant give up

[strwbrryfire]

i just have to take the first step . just need to get started . get going . all i gotta do is start .

[evienyx]

DSMP Citizens POV 7: The Lonesome Vessel

DSMPsona created by anon

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DSMP Citizen POV Masterlist

DSMPsona Submission Rules

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Before the L'Manburg Revolution, Iris had never really bothered with combat. She'd taken her physical education classes at school as a kid, had done a few extra sword-training classes as a teenager when her mother put her into them, but other than that, there wasn't really anything.

When the Revolution happened, though, Iris, who had already joined up with the rebellion when it was just starting out, took up arms at General Wilbur Soot's call and went out to the battle field, her heart pounding and blade sharp.

As she stepped onto the battlefield, entering into her first bout of combat with one of Dream's soldiers, something within her changed. Voices chanted in her head, screaming their desire to be appeased, one that could only be fulfilled by the spilling of blood.

Death, Death, Death!

Blood, Blood, Blood!

Blood for the Blood God!

Iris roared and slashed wildly at whoever she saw. Power thrummed in her veins, blood splashing across her armor and voices screaming in her ears as it did.

A soldier in L'Manburg colors ran past her. The voices screamed even louder, and Iris thrust her sword forward.

A moment later, she was lying in the medical tent that had been set up at the edge of the battlefield. Curtains shielded her from the rest of the tent. Her mind was deafeningly silent.

Iris realized that her limbs were restrained, her armor and weapons gone. Her throat was dry and her head pounded.

After a few minutes, the curtain pulled back, and a man in a medical coat peeked inside.

"You're awake?"

Iris locked gazes with him and nodded.

The doctor glanced outside before giving her a nod of his own and closing the curtain. She was alone again.

About ten more minutes passed before the curtain opened again and General Soot stepped inside.

"Sir," Iris said, trying to sit up before remembering the restraints.

"Iris," Soot replied, sounding even more exhausted than he looked. "How are you feeling?"

She swallowed. Her throat hurt, and when she spoke, it was hoarse, as if she had screamed at a concert all night. "Tired." She scrunched her nose. "My arms hurt."

Soot's lips formed into a thinner line and he nodded. "Yes, well, you were swinging that sword quite a bit."

Iris furrowed her brow. "What're you talking about?"

The general sighed. "I was afraid of that." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before meeting her gaze. "What do you remember about the battle?"

"Uh, nothing, really. I... fought a few people, I think, and then I guess I must've been knocked unconscious."

Soot's eyes were hard, but sad. "You were not. You lasted through the whole battle."

"What happened, then?"

Soot was silent.

Iris narrowed her eyes and pressed on. "What happened?"

"You were like a machine, Iris," Soot explained. "No one... No one could quite describe it. You cut down every person in your path, whether they were enemy or ally." Iris's heart sank and her blood ran cold. "Can you remember anything else? I need to know."

"Uh..." Iris wracked her brain for answers, but her head was still pounding, aching from the screams of the voices in her mind. "I mean... There were... voices. Voices, in my head? They... They wanted me to kill people."

Soot, as if his attention hadn't already been completely on her, leaned in, his eyes widening just a bit. "Voices?" She nodded. He grabbed her by the forearms, turning her toward him a bit more, despite the restraints digging into her flesh as he did so. "What did they say? Do you remember what they said?"

"Uh..." Iris nodded shakily, her heart pounding in her chest. "Yeah. They... They talked about the, er, the Blood God? Like what people always call Technoblade, you know, the famous warrior?"

Soot's eyes seemed to glaze over for a moment before he leaned back and nodded. "Yes, I know." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Iris... I'm not going to sugarcoat this for you. I think that we have every reason to believe that you are a vessel of the Blood God."

A chill ran down her spine. "What... What does that-"

"People often believe that Technoblade is a vessel of the Blood God, as well. He is not. He is the chosen of the Blood God. Those voices you heard while you were fighting? He hears those all the time, screaming for blood, and apparently being rather annoying as well."

Despite the bombshell being dropped on her, Iris managed to focus on his words and ask, "How do you know all this stuff about Technoblade?"

"Lived with him for years," Soot said, waving his hand around. "Not important. What is important is this: Controlling the desires of the Blood God that are within you is going to be difficult. Many go mad trying to fight against them. As you are simply a vessel, those voices will only come out when you are actively in combat, but they will never go away. If you plan to continue to fight, you must learn to live with them. We cannot have a repeat of the last battle, where you kill many of our own troops, as well."

Iris swallowed and nodded. "I'll do better next time, sir."

Soot cracked a smile, the bags more apparent than ever. "I'm sure of it."

During the next battle, Iris held her weapon in her hand, slashed at the first enemy soldier that she encountered, and then found herself restrained in the medical tent once more, President Soot standing over her with eyes even more sunken than the day before.

Iris felt tears spring to her eyes and shoved her head back into the pillow beneath her.

"You'll always have a home here," General President Soot told her after the Revolution ended, L'Manburg gained independence, and Iris had decided to pack up and leave. "Regardless of what happened on the battlefield, you still fought for this country. No one blames you for what happened." He paused and released a sigh. "The Blood God is as ruthless with its Vessels as it is with us mortals."

Iris huffed. "You don't need to tell me twice." Her thoughts fell to the voices, screaming in her mind.

Death, Death, Death!

Blood, Blood, Blood!

Blood for the Blood God!

She shuddered and glanced up at President Soot. "I need to leave. As long as I am here, people are in danger. The voices showed up the moment I picked up a weapon. If something were to happen, there would be nothing I could do, nothing anyone could do." She ran a hand through her hair and shook her head. "It's better this way."

President Soot was silent for a moment before nodding solemnly. "That's what I thought you'd say. Still, should you ever wish to return, the gates of L'Manburg will open wide to those who fought for them to stay standing."

Iris cracked a smile and nodded. President Soot returned the gesture before stepping out of the tent that she had been staying in. Iris tied the sack that held all the things she couldn't fit in her inventory and set off. She made a quick pit stop at the Pet Sanctuary, an underground bunker that had held the pets of all L'Manburg soldiers during the war, keeping them safe and protected from both battle and Sapnap, who was both their enemy and infamous for killing pets.

Iris grabbed her cat, Tabi, and pulled an empty beehive from her inventory to allow her bee, Honeycomb, to travel in safety and comfort. Finally, she set off, her fingers tightly wound in a lead attached to Tabi's collar, Honeycomb's hive tucked into her inventory. Iris gave a final wave to the soldiers standing guard at the L'Manburg walls and began to walk.

After fifteen minutes, she was at the top of a hill, looking down over the independent land of L'Manburg. Already, there were more people than had been during the Revolution, people from the Greater SMP and other servers having begun to move in.

After another half-hour, L'Manburg was barely visible in the distance.

Fifteen more minutes after that, and it was gone completely.

Reaching the edge of the charted land on her map, Iris pulled a boat from her inventory, setting it up while Tabi investigated a small patch of wildflowers growing nearby. Iris picked up her cat and plopped the animal between her legs as she sat down in the boat. Making sure she had everything, Iris used a stick to push off from the shore and set off into the ocean.

She followed the coast, mostly. Eventually, she reached a grassy plain that seemed to stretch on for as far as her eye could see. As the sun began to set, she finally pulled up onto a small beach just outside of a coastal village. She stored her boat, held Tabi's lead in her hand, and set off into the village.

The town was small enough that they didn't have an inn, but a farmer and his wife were nice enough to allow her to bunk in the barn for the night to avoid the monsters, and Iris fell asleep to the sound of an Iron Golem guard pummeling a zombie into dust.

Another day of boating passed before Iris settled on a small clearing a little ways into a spruce forest island to call her new home. Tabi's lead tied around a tree, she quickly set to work making a small tent to stay in while she worked on a more permanent home. A few weeks passed, but she was rather satisfied with her work as she took down the tent and spent her first official night in her new cottage. Tabi curled up on her chest, Honeycomb resting in her hive in the small garden she had made, Iris fell asleep to the sounds of rustling leaves, flickering torches, and distant waves crashing against a rocky shore.

Iris would spend a lot of her time exploring, after that, hopping across nearby islands. She constructed an Iron Golem to guard her clearing after a hoard of mobs appeared during the first night and she had been forced to hide under the floorboards and be as silent as possible until day arrived and they burned in the light of the sun. She refused to pick up a weapon again. The voices still stung in her mind (Blood for the Blood God!), and she didn't know what would happen if they took over again. She didn't want to know what would happen if the only thing for them to hurt were Tabi and Honeycomb.

The islands nearby varied in terms of what they had on them. Some were barren, others sported lush forests. One had a ravine so long and deep it almost cut the island itself in half. At one point, she arrived at a point that she had thought was an island, but was actually large enough to be considered mainland, stretching so far that she had to spend the night at a village after she realized that she didn't have enough time to get home before dark.

Iris mapped out the nearby islands, as well as the mainland, and explored them enough that she eventually didn't even need a map to explore them anymore. She knew them like the back of her hand.

That was why, when a small hut popped up in the stretch of plains on the coast of the mainland, she was confused. It was night, then, and she was making her way to the nearby village to stay in the inn. This was too interesting to pass up investigating, though, and Iris snuck over and leaned against one of the hut walls, straining to hear what was happening inside.

"-and I have no idea why he did it, because wasn't the whole point that there's-"

"Someone's listening."

"...What?"

"Someone's listening."

"What are you talking about?"

"Through the wall. Right here. Someone's listening." There was a beat of silence, and then a rush of cold air that made the hairs on the back of Iris's neck stand up, and then she was face-to-face with eyes void of anything but inky darkness, set into the grayed-out version of a familiar face. Bright blue teartracks seemed stained on the colorless skin.

"Hello," an echoed voice that almost exactly matched President Soot's said. "Who are you?"

Iris yelped and fell back, barely catching herself against the hut before she hit the ground.

"Ghostbur? Who is it?"

TommyInnit (VP Tommy, she remembered people had started to call him) asked, stepping around the corner of the hut to join the two of them.

"VP Tommy?" She blurted out. "What are you doing here?"

VP Tommy furrowed his brow. "What are you talking about? I was exiled. What are you doing here?"

"I...I live around here! And, what do you mean you were exiled? And why does President Soot look like that? And why did you call him Ghostbur?"

"That's who I am!" The spectral form of the leader of L'Manburg said cheerily. He reached out a translucent hand. "Ghostbur, nice to meet you!"

"We've met," Iris said, still reaching out to shake his hand anyway. His skin was freezing cold, and she though that if she pressed a bit more, her hand would simply slide right through his own.

"He has memory loss," VP Tommy said. "Only remembers the happy things from when he was alive. None of the bad stuff."

"What happened to him? When did he die?"

"A while ago," VP Tommy said, looking rather confused at her lack of knowledge but still managing to glare at her throughout. "How is it you know who both of us are but not what happened to..." His throat bobbed and he glanced away, falling silent.

"I fought in the L'Manburg Revolution," Iris explained. "At least, I did for a bit until President Soot-" She gestured at the grinning ghost- "and I realized that I was a Vessel for the Blood God. I can't control myself whenever I pick up a weapon, and so I moved out here to keep from hurting anyone."

VP Tommy leaned back a bit, his eyes widening. "You're a Vessel of the Blood God?" He asked, his voice sounding a bit hoarse. She nodded. His eyes flicked over her. "You're... You don't have any weapons on you, do you?"

Iris ignored the fact that she had already said that she didn't in favor of shaking her head and raising her hands a bit. "Nope. Nothing. I haven't touched a weapon since the Revolution."

"How do you defend from mobs then?" He asked, his brow scrunching as he crossed his arms.

"I'm normally home before night. If not, I make sure I'm close enough to a village to stay there. At home, everything's lit up, and I even have an Iron Golem to make sure that any stray monsters can be taken down without me having to do anything." She offered the gentlest smile she could. "You don't need to worry about me."

VP Tommy was quiet for a moment before releasing a forced laugh. "Ha, I wasn't worried! I'm never worried! I'm Big Man TommyInnit, I don't get worried about anything!"

Iris raised an eyebrow but she nodded. "Of course. I never would've thought otherwise."

VP Tommy wrinkled his nose and looked to the ground. A moment later, she heard him muffling a yawn.

"Well," Iris said loudly, stretching her arms toward the sky, "I think it's about time that I head off to the village and get settled in for the night. I'm exhausted." She saluted lazily. "Good night, VP Tommy."

"Uh, yeah. 'Night." He didn't return the gesture, but he glanced at Ghostbur, who was fiddling with what looked like a handful of blue and clearly not paying attention to the conversation whatsoever. "C'mon, Ghostbur."

The spirit of the president looked up abruptly, turning from VP Tommy to Iris. "Oh, are you leaving already?" She nodded. He gave her a smile. "Good night, then! I hope next time I get to find out your name!"

Before she could say anything, he had slid through the hut's wall and was gone. VP Tommy stood there for a moment more before disappearing inside as well. Iris hitched up the straps of her bag on her shoulders, checked her inventory, and set off for the village at the edge of the plains. She didn't want to be out in the dark for too long.

The next morning, Iris left the village inn an hour before noon, her bag and inventory stuffed full of ore that she had purchased from the blacksmith.

As she walked through the plains, she stumbled across a figure riding by on a horse. The two of them stopped and stared at one another.

"Uh, hello," Iris said, raising a hand in greeting. "Haven't seen you around here before."

"I'm not from around here," the figure, a piglin hybrid, from the look of it, said gruffly. "Was just visiting an... old friend."

Iris nodded. "Cool. Well, if you're ever in the area again, the village back by the forest edge has incredible potato bread."

The hybrid's eyes lit up a bit. "Really?" She nodded. "I'll have to check it out, then." He observed her for a moment before raising an eyebrow. "Who are you?"

She cracked a smile. "Just a lonesome wanderer, trying to live a peaceful life."

He nodded. "I can respect that. As long as you're not with any sort of government."

She shook her head. "I used to be a part of L'Manburg, but I left right after the Revolution. I... didn't want to be a part of that anymore. Now, it's just me and my pets."

The hybrid hummed, his gaze flicking over her and seeming to notice that she had no weapons. "All right, then." He gave her a nod. "Stay safe, fellow wanderer."

She grinned and returned the gesture. "And you as well." He patted the horse on its flank, and a moment later, they were gone.

Continuing across the plains, Iris came back across the hut that VP Tommy was living in. She thought the ore in her bag and wondered if the teenager, who was apparently exiled (though she didn't know why) would want it.

Iris knocked on the door. There was a beat of silence. Then, the door swung open, and she was met with the face of VP Tommy, eyes red and face blotchy. He sniffed, rubbed at his nose, and scowled at her. "What do you want, bitch?"

Ignoring his aggression, Iris offered a smile and said, "I come bearing gifts."

Though he complained, VP Tommy did agree to take the ores from her, shoving them into his furnace along with some coal that he had apparently gotten that morning. Then, with his eyes narrowed and mouth twisted into a frown, he offered her a porkchop.

Iris started to visit him more and more, after that. She brought Tabi to the village's healer when the cat got sick one day, and that evening showed her pet to VP Tommy on the way home.

"This is Tabi," she said, holding out the cat to the teenager. VP Tommy stared at the cat with raised eyebrows. "Go on, take her. She loves being pet behind the ears."

VP Tommy took the cat in his arms, holding it with a surprising amount of caution. He reached forward and scratched slowly behind Tabi's ear. The cat purred and leaned into the touch. VP Tommy's eyes flew up to meet Iris's as his jaw dropped, and she couldn't help but let out a laugh at his reaction.

Over the time that she visited him, Iris watched as VP Tommy (My name is Tommy, shithead, he insisted after she called him by his old title to his face) deteriorated. His laughs were more forced. His face was more sunken, his hair grew limp, and his the light in his eyes dimmed, the bright blue seeming to fade into a cool gray. Still, he would grin every time she showed up, and would bounce on the balls of his feet as he told her about what he had done since her last visit.

"Ranboo came to visit me," he said one day. "He showed up after Schlatt and Wilbur died and L'Manburg was rebuilt. He's cool, even though he's kind of a pussy."

"Does anyone else come to visit?" She asked, poking at the fire that he had made when the sun began to set.

"Well, Dream is here all the time," he said, but she already knew that. About a week after she started visiting regularly, he had all-but-demanded that she only visit at night, because Dream was there in the daylight and didn't really like when he had other visitors there. "Mexican Dream came here one time, too, but..." Tommy sniffed. "He, uh, he died."

"Oh," Iris said. "I'm sorry."

On certain days, she would let Tommy ramble to her about his problems. He would complain about the 16th of November, about the election from months ago, about his exile from weeks prior. Other days, he would tour her around the things he was building.

"This is Logstedshire," he said, spreading his arms wide. "Ghostbur helped me build it, before he..." His smile faltered. "Before he... left."

She said nothing more, simply pointed at a random building and asked about it. Tommy took the change of topic gratefully and began to ramble on about the mining expedition he had gone on to get the materials.

One day, when Iris was on the way to the village past Logshedshire to trade before she visited Tommy that evening, she looked up from storing away her boat to see the Nether portal just outside of Tommy's home glimmering with particles, the distinct look of a portal that someone had just used.

Iris was confused for a moment, because she was sure that Tommy didn't use his portal anymore, not after the failed beach party (which he had requested she didn't attend, since he didn't think that Dream would like knowing that Tommy was talking with someone he didn't know. Iris still felt bad, though, after hearing about the disaster that befell the party that her teenager friend had been so very excited about).

Then, she looked up and her eyes fell on a tower of mismatched materials, stretching toward the sky. Her stomach dropped, and, ignoring her previous plans, she scrambled up the beach and sprinted toward Logstedshire.

The area was completely destroyed, decimated by what had to be TNT. The tower she had seen started near the pit, reaching to brush against low-hanging clouds in the expanse of sky above. Tommy was nowhere to be seen.

Nearby, Iris abruptly noticed, President Tubbo stood looking up at the tower, shaking his head desperately with tears streaking down his face. "Surely not, surely not," he said lowly, his voice hoarse.

Iris's heart skipped a beat. For the first time since the Revolution, her mind was flooded with voices, screaming, roaring in her ears. She didn't care what they were saying, though, instead covering her mouth with her hands, taking in a painful breath, and beginning to sob.

President Tubbo turned to look at her, just now noticing her presence. He reached a hand out and opened his mouth to speak, but she didn't give him a chance to, instead choosing to turn on her heel and run back to the coastline, tears streaming from her eyes and all plans of heading to the village forgotten. She hopped in her boat and set off in the direction of her home island, her salty tears falling from her cheeks and joining the ocean waters below.

Iris stumbled into her cottage, Tabi moving toward her and rubbing against her leg as she collapsed into a chair, shoving her face into her hands. Her cat's fur stopped brushing against her skin, and a few moments later, a buzzing sound met her ears. She opened her eyes to see Tabi hopping from the windowsill as Honeycomb flew inside, the window wide open behind the two pets. The bee settled on her shoulder, snuggling against Iris's neck and buzzing gently, while Tabi leaped to her lap and curled up there.

Iris pet her cat with a shaking hand and tried to ignore the screaming voices growing louder and louder in her mind.

That evening, she grabbed a pack that she knew had two twin blades stored away inside of it and set off for a nearby island, one covered in a forest so dense that inside of it, you couldn't see the sky. Mobs were there even in the day time, and at night, it was more stuffed with monsters than a dungeon was.

On the edge of the island, Iris watched as a zombie lumbered toward her.

Blood! Blood!

Blood for the Blood God!

Kill it! Kill it!

Finally! Blood!

Everyone shut up, she's gonna do it!

She better!

Blood! Blood! Blood for the Blood God!

Ignoring the 'banter' going on between the voices in her head, the Vessel of the Blood God dropped the pack on the ground, pulled the twin blades from within, and let the voices take over, jumping forward and slashing at the monster in front of her. The voices cheered as blood splashed across her skin, and as her gaze fell on a skeleton near the tree line, she leaped toward it and felt her control over her body fall away.

She woke to the daylight, her cheek pressed against the warm sand of the beach. She heard the waves lapping at the shore. The twin blades she had used rested nearby. Her mind was silent, though the elation of the voices as she sliced through monsters was still very apparent. Iris sat up, grabbed the bag she had abandoned the night before, and scooped the blades inside, careful not to touch it. She then slipped into the boat and set off, leaving the island behind as she headed home.

Halfway there, she felt an alert on her communicator. Glancing down at it, she choked on a breath as her eyes landed on 'TommyInnit' in her messages lighting up. Taking in a deep breath, she clicked on the name and was greeted by a new chat message from her friend.

TommyInnit: Hey, bitch. I realized that Dream is an even Bigger Bitch Boy than I thought. He blew up Logstedshire and I ran away after he left. I'm with Technoblade, now.

TommyInnit: you were real poggers. I'll pay you back for that ore eventually.

Iris sniffed and wiped at her eyes, which were beginning to sting. She swallowed, her throat aching, and grabbed the oars resting on the sides of the boat, starting to paddle back home.

(Later that day, she would return to Logstedshire and root through the rubble for three days straight, searching for any remaining things of Tommy's that she could find.

She found a few photos buried under rocks, at one point. After the first one she touched crumbled to dust immediately, she took pictures of any she found before trying to pick them up. She found a few books that Tommy must have bought from the village. Nothing else really seemed like it would be valuable. Then, though, on her last day of searching, she broke apart a collapsed wall and saw a piece of fabric lying underneath.

She reached forward and carefully picked up the beanie lying on the ground, so covered in dust that it looked gray rather than maroon.

"This was his beanie," Tommy had said. "He had two of these. Phil has the one that he was wearing when he died. He gave this one to me right before we went to fight Manburg."

Iris's fingers tightened around the beanie, and she tucked it safely into a spare spot in her inventory before immediately heading off to the village to use their public Ender chest to put the beanie inside of.

The next time she saw TommyInnit, she would give it back to him. Afterall, he deserved to have the beanie. It was his brother's, wasn't it?

The sun was beginning to set, then.

Iris swallowed down a lump in her throat as phantom voices whispered in her mind and moved faster over the plains, focusing on making her way to the inn before nightfall and trying to ignore the murmurs in her ear asking for blood.)

[agent-cupcake]

Beastie and the Bard

Fire Emblem Three Houses - Dimitri x Reader - Chapter 9

Word Count: 11,631

I bet you thought I’d forgotten about this. Nope, not yet. I actually have a fully fleshed out framework for where this story is going with a scene by scene breakdown. You can read the previous chapters on my blog or on AO3

This chapter takes place during the first part of the month before the Battle of Garreg Mach. 

Elegiac Chorale Mortis Honore Opus 7, No. 1

There was something surreal about sitting in the classroom again, the desks arranged in their neat rows and Professor Byleth facing you all from his usual place. Not even a week had passed since your last class, since your last private conversation with Dimitri, but everything had changed. Peace, whatever dregs had been left of it after everything that had happened, was utterly destroyed. Any illusion of safety behind the old stone walls of the monastery was waved away into smoke. No more laughter, no more fun. The monastery swarmed with word of Emperor Edelgard’s treasonous claims and threats, words weaponized to spread disquiet.

It was almost a relief when Professor Byleth said it, confirming something that everybody already knew. “There is going to be a battle,” he told you all, his voice striking the silent room without any particular cadence. “Scouts report that the Imperial army led by Emperor Edelgard will be here by the end of the moon.”

By the end of the moon. You tried to calculate the days but knew that it wasn’t any more than three weeks. Less, actually.  

“So soon?” Ingrid asked, her voice breathy with the shock you felt echoed within yourself.

“This plan has been underway for longer than we could have guessed,” Professor Byleth said. He winced, an odd tick of an expression. “I’m sorry for not seeing this sooner.”

“We don’t blame you, Professor,” Annette said. “Who could have known, right? We all thought...” she trailed off, but there was no point in continuing. You had all thought, you had all been so distracted.

“We can’t let ourselves get caught up on that, Annie,” Mercedes chided.

“You’re right,” Professor Byleth said. “Now, we must prepare for what is to come. Before we begin, does anybody have any questions?”

Nobody said anything. You scanned the faces of those you could see. Dimitri and Dedue sat in front of you, giving you only a profile glimpse of drawn expressions of exhaustion. Of those sitting in your row, nerves cast a sickly pallor over Ashe’s freckled cheeks, painted shadows beneath Annette and Mercedes’ eyes. You wondered how you looked. Tired, probably. You felt as if you hadn’t slept all week.

“Right,” Professor Byleth called, folding his hands behind his back in something akin to parade rest. It was interesting how quickly he had traded a mercenary’s unrefined motions for the more commanding stances of a general. “Dimitri, have you heard any word about what’s happening in Fhirdiad? Seteth’s reports indicate that they’re hesitating in committing any troops to defend Garreg Mach.”

“My uncle is blind,” Dimitri responded with obvious distaste. “He rejects reality. Foolish man.” Although nearly everyone knew of Rufus’s incompetence, Dimitri’s genuine and open scorn for the man, his uncle, was shocking.

“According to my father,” Felix added from behind you, his tone far more measured, “there is opposition within that prevents the regent from committing any men. Not to mention, the Kingdom troops are already spread thin along the western border.”

“Um, excuse me,” Ashe said, nervously raising his hand as if this were a normal class. “There is good reason for that. Professor, may I?”

“Please,” Professor Byleth said, motioning Ashe to continue. He looked from face to face nervously, fidgeting awkwardly in his seat. You were close enough to see the red rimming his eyes, the white skin on his chapped lips. But he spoke and his voice was steady enough, his gaze even as he addressed the class.

“Lord Lonato named me as his heir,” Ashe said, “although I have not yet claimed the title, the Church has allowed me to remain informed about what is happening in his territory. I am… I’m afraid there seems to be some conflict over how the western lords intend to act. After what happened, many of them have been actively rejecting Church aid. Should this become an all-out war-”

“They intend to betray the Church,” Dimitri said, turning and narrowing his eyes at Ashe. “No—to betray their country, is that it?”

“There could be another explanation,” Ashe said.

“I’m sure there is,” Professor Byleth said, motioning to calm them. “What you’re saying is that we can’t count on the western lords for help.”

“Yes,” Ashe answered, his shoulders slumping somewhat. “I’m sorry.”

“I cannot help but wonder if that was the intention,” Dedue said.

“What do you mean?” Byleth asked.

“It is merely speculation,” Dedue began hesitantly, like he was unsure if he should be voicing his opinion. “However, it seemed strange that Lord Lonato would raise a rebellion in the manner he did when he did. Unless he had outside support with considerable sway-”

“You think the Empire is behind Lord Lonato’s betrayal?” Mercedes asked.

“As I said,” Dedue told her, his expression unreadable, “it is merely speculation. But it would explain a great many things. Faerghus is more divided now than ever, it is difficult to believe that is a simple coincidence.”

“Duscur, Lonato, the Church,” Dimitri said, “the infection of the Flame Emperor’s touch has been festering in the Kingdom for far too long. And they would choose to ignore it rather than fighting for their country. Have they no honor?”

“Does any of this matter?” Felix interjected, clearly annoyed. “Even if the Empire did have something to do with the failed rebellion, Lonato is dead now. We can’t waste our time wondering about the motives of a dead man. We need to focus on the problems at hand.”

Dimitri raised his chin imperiously in reaction to that statement, although he didn’t object, turning to face the front again. Ashe sunk back in his chair, pressing his shaking hands flat against the table. Felix’s cruelty was expected at this point, but Dimitri’s was still a fresh wound. You could understand that. You put your hand over Ashe’s, pleased at how steady it was. Your eyes met and you nodded to him, hoping the show of support was enough. His lips quirked in what could almost be counted as a grateful smile.

“About that,” Sylvain said, breaking the tension somewhat with his easy tone. “I received word from my father. He said that he’d send men, but they still won’t get here in time. It’ll take an entire moon for any sizable force to get here. Best case scenario, the Empire forces are delayed, and we can bolster our numbers.” He didn’t continue with the worst-case scenario, but he didn’t need to. The little helpless shrug was more than enough.

Byleth nodded thoughtfully. “This will be a decisive battle, but we’ll be in need of fresh soldiers after the fact no matter which way it goes.”

“Win or lose, you mean,” Felix said dryly.  

“We won’t lose,” Annette said. “With the Professor on our side, we’re definitely going to win. Right?” Her blue eyes jumped from face to face, searching desperately for confirmation of her plea.

“Right,” you agreed, trying to unravel the knot of fear and dread tangling in your stomach. You had to work past that, to remain strong. “No matter what, we can’t let the Empire scare us into submission. If we do that, we might as well give up before the battle even starts.” Could they hear past the conviction in your voice to the weak wobble that laid beneath? At the very least, Annette smiled in return. That was enough.

“We will win,” Dimitri said. “When I have her head in my hands, there will be peace. For all of us.” Even in profile, you could see the sickly smile he wore as he considered that. Compared to any regular expression of joy or pleasure, this was a ghastly, inhuman expression. One you had seen before.

“Dimitri, when was the last time you slept?” Professor Byleth asked, tilting his chin up as he considered the prince.

“Slept? I...” Dimitri replied, his eyes snapping upward and the smile dropping. A moment later, his expression froze over. “That is unimportant.” Even for Professor Byleth, this was dangerous territory.

“What about your last meal?” Professor Byleth pushed.

“That is no concern of yours,” Dimitri said, meeting his eyes evenly. “And assuming it was… I have no appetite.”

“Oh, so is that your plan?” Felix called, his voice dripping scorn. “You’re going to kill yourself before that girl can do it for you?”

“Felix,” Dedue said, a warning in his voice as he turned to scowl at him.

“Shut up, dog. I’m tired of your sycophantic denial,” Felix snapped. “Wake up, boar. If you want to lose your mind, do it on your own time. Right now, there are more important things to worry about.”

“Hm,” Dimitri said in response.

“Felix, calm down,” Ingrid said, her worry clearly etched into a frown.  

“You’re telling me to calm down?” Felix asked her. “Am I the only one who understands what’s at stake here? You want me to spare the feelings of a mad boar… For what? How is pity for him going to save the lives of the people here? What good is compassion against an upcoming war? This is a farce.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Dimitri said, standing with the sharp scraping of wood on stone. “I recommend you all prepare yourselves. We will crush the enemy as soon as they dare to enter through the gates. And as soon as Edelgard draws near... I will have my revenge.”

Dimitri let that ominous threat hold in the still air. Dust motes played in the light streaming in through the windows, disturbing into a frantic swirl of a dance as he left the room with a swish of his blue cape. Dedue followed with a hurried, “Pardon me.” The doors shut behind them, but not before allowing in a chilly draft of cold wintery air. You didn’t even think about it, pushing away from the table with dread settling like ice in your heart.

“You’re going to go after him, aren’t you?” Felix accused, pinning you in place with his glare.

“What?” you asked, feeling the attention settling on you.

“Give me a break,” Felix said, his lip curling back in outright disdain, “you’re not fooling anybody. You’re as bad as that boar’s lapdog, constantly following him around as you do.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you said slowly, carefully.

Felix scoffed. “Anybody with a set of eyes can see the truth. If he’s the boar’s lapdog,” he said, nodding towards the door Dedue had just departed through, “then you’re his bitch.”

You recoiled as if he’d physically struck you. It felt like it, almost. Heat built up urgently behind your eyes, ringing with the pulsing stream of blood in your ears. Like the first time you’d been punched in the face, you just felt stunned.

Did he know the extent of your feelings? You supposed they had been transparent from the start; you were an idiot to believe you’d ever fool anyone. All the same, thick shame began to congeal in your gut, rising up like bile. “That’s a terrible thing to say,” you said into the ensuing shocked silence, your voice soft with pained shock, light and airy in order to get past the swell of tears in your throat.

“Felix, that’s enough,” Sylvain said in warning, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder. Felix shook off Sylvain’s hand by standing up, glaring at him, too.

“You’re all fools. You think you’re being kind, but all you’re doing is enabling him to destroy himself,” Felix said. “We don’t have a chance of winning if we spend all of our time worrying about a mad boar. Tell me when we’re actually going to discuss something important. Until then, I’ll be training.” He turned on his heel and left without any further objection.

Elegiac Chorale Mortis Honore Opus 7, No. 2

There weren’t enough knights to do everything that needed to be done in preparing Garreg Mach for the impending battle. That meant that many of the less intensive tasks fell to the students to complete, including evacuation of civilians.

Those who had the resources to do so were able to get out practically on the day of Edelgard’s betrayal, like wildlife that could smell a storm before it broke, people scattered away from the encroaching doom. Others weren’t so fortunate. They were poor, they had families, they had settled their lives in Garreg Mach as surely and firmly as the old stone walls.

Getting those people to safety was absolutely essential and important, but the reality of the matter was grim. The friendly territories of the western kingdom and along the Alliance and Faerghus border were quickly becoming packed with refugees. Not just from Garreg Mach, but from the northern Empire. Asylum seekers from the Imperial recruitment and cruelty.

Most of those people were used to the mild winters in Central Fódlan, so those who were forced further north into the kingdom weren’t accustomed to the harsh conditions. Already, there were rumors of entire camps of refugees left dead from exposure. Or bandits, the Kingdom was still rife with lowlife thugs like Miklan. And that wasn’t even to mention the fact that the civil unrest had already left Faerghus without enough resources over the winter months.

The Alliance wasn’t much better, most of their energy was put into fortifying their own defenses and the little wars of internal conflict. You had never paid much attention to how divided the Alliance was after Duke Riegan’s death. Claude insisted he could get a handle on it, but there was only so much he could do for the time being.

That was the general feeling in Garreg Mach. There was only so much you could do. Only so much anyone could do.

You helped load another family onto an overpacked cart with only the most essential of their possessions. Families of the soldiers got priority, and this caravan was thick with children. Despite the hapless sounds of crying children and soft weeping, there was a hush over the once lively square. A somber farewell.

Having done all you could, you stepped back. You couldn’t help but focus on a young girl towards the back. She had a ghostly white face and clutched a doll to her chest with hands still round and dimpled with baby fat, her mother’s arm draped across those tiny shoulders to keep her from bumping into the strangers they would be traveling with. Tears glazed those sweet baby blues, exhaustion ringed the young mother’s eyes. Her husband, a young soldier who had hung around to say goodbye, would be staying and risking his life. He kissed both girls with the desperate fervor of a man who knew, on some level, that this was goodbye forever.

You wanted to believe that this was the best thing, and it was, but you knew what it was to be displaced at such a young age. You knew what it did to people. You knew what goodbye forever felt like. Selfish as it was, you felt almost as if you could see yourself in those glassy young eyes. It was just all too familiar.

Thinking of your mother, as always, was a painful thing. After realizing the magnitude of the situation, you had sent several letters to her nurses and the man you had left in charge of your Fhirdiad estate to warn them of what was coming. Right now, you held onto the belief that the battle at Garreg Mach would stop the war from invading into Faerghus, which meant that your mother was fine to stay in the country mansion. Besides, you worried about what the city would do to her system, she was already in such a poor state.

But that was a worry for another time.

The horses were kicked into motion and the cart rolled over the smooth cobblestones to the great somewhere else. You hoped the goddess went with them, keeping them safe. When they fully disappeared through the gate into the cloudy winter sunrise, you turned on your heel to return to the monastery. After such a long night of patrolling and a morning of packing up civilians, this was the last thing you wanted to do, but you had already put it off too long.

If you were a good person, or even a good leader, you would have visited your company the moment you had any solid news about what was happening. But you weren’t. You didn’t.

Not all of the soldiers employed by the Church stayed in the monastery, which was reserved primarily for the knights and those with high standing in the militaries of the three countries. In a section wedged between the monastery proper and the town of Garreg Mach, a large camp of barracks had been laid out for all of the other soldiers. The organization of it was a bit strange, considering most of them had separate allegiances and very few of them reported to the same generals. Lady Rhea would be considered their High Marshal in theory, but that was just about the only unifying force. Each battalion of soldiers was employed to serve whichever student Officer they had been assigned, so they worked both as an independent, almost mercenary-like group as well as military personnel.

You had always felt awkward with your own battalion, unsure of how to command or treat them. Lieutenant Avery was basically the leader of your company. There was no question of the men’s loyalty, your authority wasn’t the highest to those men, even if they were technically yours to lead. That had never bothered you, not in the way it should have. Only recently had you begun to feel shame about the fact. So many other students had been found to have traitorous Imperial soldiers under their command, a massive embarrassment to the Church as well as cause for distrust of the students themselves.

The vacancy of the empty barracks segmented for the Imperially sourced companies was hostile. Urgent intensity passed between the men who were still hanging around in thinning groups, performing the first of the day’s chores or hanging around in hunched clusters, creating an atmosphere so oppressive you almost found it hard to breathe. They were in a strange place. Staying pitted them against their country, but to leave would be a betrayal against the Church. Nobody trusted them either way, forcing them to congregate only among themselves. That was what Edelgard had done. Verbal poison, the warfare of the mind, turning everybody against one another. Unifying a country, it seemed, required mass division first.

Your men were placed in the no man’s land at the outside of the Kingdom barracks. Professor Byleth had offered you several companies of Kingdom patriots, but you hadn’t felt drawn to them like you were to Avery’s Wyvern Co. They were fresh soldiers among the large array of companies out for the Church to hire, only having arrived shortly before the year began. In truth, you weren’t even completely certain that they were soldiers to begin with. Avery was a strange person with a mysterious background and you truly believed he was a good man,  but there was something about him that lacked the shine and polish of a soldier.

Not that it mattered much to you. You liked him; you liked the men. Amidst the dark and oppressive atmosphere of the barracks camp, he and his men sat around a fire, eating breakfast, and chatting among themselves.

“Fancy this!” Avery called as you approached, his grin lit up in brushed orange and distorted by the smoke of the dancing flames. “And here I was just wondered what had happened of our dearest Captain.” The complete disregard of proprietary and respect was utterly inappropriate, but it was clear that Avery never meant anything strange by it. What was strange to you was how easy-going he sounded. Compared to the rest of the Garreg Mach, it was like laughter at a funeral. You didn’t mind it. This task was dour enough without a bad atmosphere. “Why don’t you sit?” Avery offered, gesturing to the bench seat by him. “Have you eaten? I’m sure there’s still more...”

“I’m fine, thank you,” you told him, sitting. “I’m… sorry to not have visited sooner. You’re all doing well?”

“Better than you, it looks like,” Wendell, one of the men who had been wounded in the Sealed Forest, told you. After your concern for his injuries following the battle, he seemed just as loyal to you as Avery. “If you don’t mind me saying, of course.”

“Wen,” another man, Euston, scolded dryly. “You can’t say things like that to a young lady.”

“She’s our Captain,” Avery said, lightly hitting Euston across the back of the head. “Show some respect.”

Euston laughed, undeterred. “You’re one to talk, worrying about her like some kind of mother hen.”

“Is it wrong to care? This past moon has been difficult,” Avery said. Everyone sobered up at the reminder. Difficult was probably an understatement. “You were there when the Emperor revealed herself, weren’t you?” Avery asked you. “I heard what happened. The prince-”

“Dimitri’s fine,” you said, avoiding his eyes. “And I…” You meant to say that you were fine, to reassure them that their captain was steady and sure. But you couldn’t. “That’s actually what I’ve come to talk to you all about. As I’m sure you’re all well aware of by now, there is going to be a battle. The rumors are true. Imperial troops are estimated to arrive by the end of the moon.”  

Avery whistled, a quiet rumble of dissent waving over the men. “That soon? She must have been planning this awhile.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, hating to think of it. While you were carelessly training and falling in love and having your heart broken, she was sowing chaos, arranging a war. “And I’m sorry for neglecting you all. I should have done this sooner.”

“That doesn’t bode well,” Euston said.

“If you wish to leave, you’re free to do so,” you told them, your voice raised as you forced yourself to look from face to face, to not shy away from this task. Every expression you acknowledged was set in various degrees of stony to bemused, as if they couldn’t believe what you were saying. “I’ll personally pay you three moons’ wages… More if you act as an escort for the civilians leaving Garreg Mach. You’ll also get a glowing recommendation for your service thus far.”

“The odds are that grim, eh?” Avery asked. Everyone was watching you, waiting for your answer.

“Um…” you began forcing yourself not to clam up under the pressure. “Yes. A-and no. The chances of victory are… Well, nobody really knows at this point. But even if we win, this is a full… a full-on military assault. Edelgard… Emperor Edelgard means all-out war. The Church is just the beginning. I won’t force anyone to fight, I know that none of you ever signed on for allegiance to the Kingdom, or even the Church.”

That began another wave of grumbling, words you couldn’t quite make out as that information was digested. The fire was dying, but the rising sun illuminated enough for you to see the uncertainty on every face, the doubt. You were confirming things they already knew.

“If there’s going to be a war anyway, where would we go?” Lester asked loudly. He was the other one who was wounded in the Sealed Forest. You didn’t like to think of yourself as buying forgiveness to assuage your guilt for his injury, but you did know he had an affinity for chocolate. “Seems like a victory here is our best bet to avoid that.”

“Yeah,” Euston agreed. “War seems like it would be… annoying. We came to the Church because they give us the easy life. Or, they did before this mess all started.” General assent followed his words, heads nodding.

“I’d never forgive myself if I left you here, Captain,” Wendell said. “I may not care that much for the Kingdom or the Church or anything, but I like you. Never known a noble who was so...” He waved his hand, at a loss for words. “You know… The point is, I’m staying.”

“Wendell…” you said, your voice half choked. “Thank you.”

“So, does anyone want to take up our generous Captain on her offer?” Avery asked. Silence met his question, a resounding answer in its own right. You swallowed down the lump in your throat, hating to feel the pressure of tears at the back of your eyes.

“Thank you. It is… my greatest honor to lead you all,” you said, feeling that the words weren’t enough but knowing it was the best you could do. To them, a company of seasoned men, what were you? A slip of a girl pretending to lead them. And yet, they would follow you.

“When this is all over, you’re gonna owe us all a drink,” Euston said. “I’ve always wanted to try that plum liquor they make in Morfis.”

“When this is over, I’ll owe you all a hundred drinks,” you said. “So you’d better all make it, okay?”

“Yessir,” most of them said in unison, touching forefingers to their brows or giving you half-salutes. You let out a heavy breath, glad to be done with that and feeling far better than you had upon arrival.

“I’ll be off, then,” you said, standing up and stretching. The sun had risen, but the sky was miserably gray and cloudy. One of those days. It seemed like all days were one of those days.

“I’ll walk you back,” Avery said, standing.

“You don’t need t-”

“Come on,” he said without waiting. You waved to the rest, even getting some smiles in return, before hurrying to match his stride.

In a way, you were glad for the company. The tension among the battalion camp was just as uncomfortable now as it had been on the way in, but now people were moving around. There was an endless supply of jobs anymore, always something for someone to do.

“It was good of you to offer that,” Avery said.

“Do you think any of them will accept?” you asked. Nobody had spoken up at the moment, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t in private. You didn’t fault that.

“No, we stick together. No matter what.”

“They’re very loyal to you.”

“Like I said, we stick together,” Avery said. “You never asked what we did before we came to Garreg Mach, or why.”

“I didn’t think it was important,” you responded.

“I can’t tell if you’re too naive or too kind,” Avery said, shooting you a sideways smile. “When you picked us, I was braced for the worst type of brat, that’s what we signed up for. But you’re not that. Sure, you’re incompetent, but I know you mean well.”

The casual jab hurt, but the praise leveled it out. Somewhat. Besides, he was right.

“Even if you were the worst of them, we’d have taken it. It’s like… penance. But you’re not, so I figure I should give you a chance to decide you want men like us following you.”

“I don’t care about your past,” you said.

“We were criminals,” Avery said, acting as if he hadn’t heard you. He wasn’t looking at you anymore, his eyes forward and expression schooled into a serious mask. “Damned good ones, too. We all came from villages near the Almyran border, grew up on the backs of wyverns, always dreamed of being accepted into Gonerill’s army. I got my own company before I really realized it; the fight with the Almyrans is pointless. Fighting for fighting’s sake. You lose limbs and lives in what amounts to little more than a game, there’s nothing respectable or sane about it. So, we, my men and I, deserted.”

“Oh,” you said, stunned by the confession.

“After that, we terrorized people, thinking we had some sort of right to do it because at least we weren’t liars like all of the nobility who toss lives away like trash. We only took from the rich and called it justice.” Avery sighed regretfully. “The things we did… the things I did... “

“It couldn’t have been that bad,” you said doubtfully, trying to imagine somebody like smiling Wendell doing what Avery was describing.

“I destroyed people’s lives,” Avery said. “Because of me, children lost their fathers, women lost their husbands... One day I looked at what I had done, what we were doing, and knew that I was damned. I came to the monastery to beg forgiveness, to serve the children who I might have ruined.”

The two of you were approaching the front gate. Cold shivers had crept up your spine, over your arms. Bandits had killed your father, ruined your mother. Ruined you, in a way, even if it was liberation.

But Avery didn’t know that. Besides, it couldn’t have been Avery. To believe in such a coincidence was too awful, too cruel. Avery was a good man, you believed that.

“Now you know who it is that serves you, Captain,” he said, stopping and facing you. He didn’t have the face of a bad man. His skin was leathery and crinkled from too many years in the sun and the line of his nose was an uneven mess from being broken a time or two. He surveyed you with a neutral expression, waiting for your judgment.

“Thank you for telling me,” you said carefully, willing yourself to not become emotional. “I think… I’m not the person to forgive you, but… But it would be really hypocritical of me to judge you. A man I lo―care about quite a bit is in a similar position, looking to the goddess for help and forgiveness, and I… What else is there? As long as you keep trying to be a better person and… Um… I don’t think any less of you. I’m grateful that you trust me.”

Avery measured that response for a long moment before he finally spoke. “Then it is my genuine pleasure to serve under your command.”

“And I’m going to be better,” you told him. “I know I’ve been a poor captain. Most of the time I feel like a child, but I… We can both be better, right?”

“I’d like to think so.” Avery smiled, encouraging you to do the same. “Have a good day, captain. And consider getting some rest”

“I will,” you said. Consider it, at least. Sleep was evasive these days. Besides, there was so much to do. Still, after Avery left, you did take a moment to breathe, to consider what he told you. It didn’t change anything, did it? Yet somehow, you felt more hopeful. And distraught. It seemed the world was insistent that you not let go of your past, throwing it back in your face like this.

But there wasn’t much time for contemplation like that. You hurried back to the monastery, determined to make the most of this ugly gray day.

Elegiac Chorale Mortis Honore Opus 7, No. 3

Six days had passed since Professor Byleth had called you all together to discuss the state of things. You felt the passing of each hour acutely, the countdown dragging the monastery closer and closer to uncertain ruin. Yet, at the same time, it seemed as if the clock was crawling along, prolonging the nightmare-ish state.  

Felix hadn’t so much as looked at you since that disastrous last confrontation.

Dimitri only occasionally showed up when he was summoned.

And you were silly. Stupid, even. Why you felt the need to volunteer yourself to go get him to come to the meeting today, you didn’t know. He was more likely to listen to Professor Byleth anyway. But you did. Of course you did.

The vaulted space of the cathedral was nearly always filled with those who thought to pray for aid from the Goddess. Devoted and questioning alike gathered up to pray for their souls, to pray for their loved ones, to pray for some measure of comfort. Everywhere buzzed with word of Emperor Edelgard’s proclamations and the size of her forces and the fearsome strength of her military, whispered rumors dripping in like poison along with the prayers.

Dimitri spent a great deal of time in the cathedral. Nobody really knew why, people whispered about it like it was some great mystery that a man half mad would think to reach out to the goddess for guidance, but you thought you understood. Avery’s desire for penance was fresh in your head, and you could remember Dimitri’s words that night in the Goddess Tower, almost like a melody you couldn’t quite shake from your head.

“The goddess just watches over us from above… That is all. No matter how hard someone begs to be saved, she would never so much as offer her hand. And even if she did, we lack the means to reach out and grasp it. That’s how I feel about her.”

And you knew that he was the one most affected by Edelgard’s betrayal, the one suffering the most pain. You kept your promise that you wouldn’t tell anybody of his true connection to the Emperor, but it haunted you. The moment of her mask falling away had cut some integral thread of forced composure that Dimitri had been clinging to as a lifeline, and without it he’d fallen victim to the very worst parts of himself. He spent so much of his time reaching towards the goddess for a lifeline because, despite the brutal killings you had seen him commit, he was weak.

You were weak, too. Although you had a reason to seek him out, your feet took you to him because they always did, they always brought you to him. You were so, terribly weak.

Upon passing through the gate of the cathedral, it was impossible to miss Dimitri. Everybody gave him a wide berth of space when passing, casting him nervous side glances, and whispering to their companions in hushed tones. He stood alone like an exhibit in a museum. Rumors had spread about Dimitri just as quickly as they had about Edelgard. Rumors of madness, of insanity. It was upsetting to hear, heartbreaking that he was viewed as little more than a spectacle, but you shrugged them off. It didn’t matter what people thought, or at least you couldn’t blame them. They were ignorant and afraid, and while Edelgard was still far away, Dimitri was right in front of them.

He, as had become usual, stood in his grand stage of empty space. A position he could occupy for hours without break. Dimitri’s uniform wasn’t as neat as he had usually kept it, and his hair needed to be cut. Your heart softened upon seeing him. A foolish, stupid feeling. Unwanted entirely. You knew that things had changed and could keenly remember the many times he’d snapped at you for doing what you were about to do. Whatever tenderness that had been cultivated within him before now was gone. Withered away like flowers in the frost, a sweet melody played sour on an out of tune lyre.

But you refused to stop, and you especially refused to be frightened of Dimitri, or believe that he would do anything to hurt you.

It was better to stick only to present concerns. Such as the fact that he was muttering to himself again. Words you couldn’t quite hear over the hushed noise of the devout. Dimitri’s lips moved with a rhythm that made it seem like he was speaking to something, someone. The dead, his dead. You had heard him use their names once, addressing people who were long gone and buried. Glenn, father, stepmother. He stopped whenever someone was close enough to pick out details, but you heard them all the same.

Melancholy intermingled with a deep, bone-grinding fear at seeing him like this. Many poems or songs you knew spoke of insanity, but none of their descriptions truly matched the broken man in front of you. They saw the afflicted through the eyes of a romantic. In other words, a lovely lyrical lie. What most of them had in common, however, was an eventual tragedy. With every fiber of your being, you swore to not allow him to become victim to such a fate.

You had failed once. You couldn’t handle another. You were weak.

“Dimitri?” you asked, striding up to him with a level of cheery confidence you weren’t so sure you felt. The eyes of a crowd of outsiders followed you now that you had broken the bubble of space surrounding the prince that frightened them so, watching as if you were approaching a beast in the woods unarmed.

Dimitri didn’t respond, either ignoring you or lost in thought of whatever he’d been muttering about. You would have preferred the former, because at least then he’d still be with you, not sunken down into some dark void that you couldn’t possibly reach him in. Unfortunately, you suspected it was the latter, what with the way his blue eyes were ringed with deep shadow and glazed over. You couldn’t even imagine the last time he must have slept. According to Dedue’s careful vigilance, he spent his days in the cathedral and his nights on the training grounds, throwing himself into combat practice so intensely nobody dared intervene. Not even you.

“Dimitri?” you asked again, a bit louder, daring to reach out a hand to get his attention. The touch startled him, and for a moment you were almost afraid that he was going to strike out. He didn’t, although you could tell by the way his body was coiled and poised that it had been a close thing. But he didn’t, and that was all that mattered.

“What is it?” Dimitri asked in the clipped and cold tone of an accusation. The familiar blue of his eyes was flat when they found focus on your face, his stare without any recognition for your feelings or softness for who you wished you were to him. It hurt, it still hurt. Maybe it would always hurt when he looked at you like that, maybe your heart would never scar over and allow you to recognize that this version of him wasn’t truly who he was. You began to rack your brain for a proper verse about the pain of looking in the eyes of someone you loved and seeing nothing in return but stopped yourself. There was no song or lyric that could explain the piercing ache of such a feeling. With him, with your mother, you knew that so very well.

“The dining hall is serving cheesy Verona stew,” you said.

Dimitri grunted dismissively, turning his face from you. That, of course, was not nearly enough to actually stop you.

“See, I asked, and nobody seemed to know if you’ve eaten in the past few days,” you continued.

He said nothing.

“And I know for a fact that you like cheesy Verona stew.”

Nothing.

“Plus, you won’t be able to fight or anything if you’re starving, so-”

“What, exactly, is it that you want?” Dimitri abruptly snapped, fixing you again with a look you refused to believe was a glare of murderous intent. Despite that firm belief, the expression was threatening enough to push you into taking an unconscious half-step away in physical recoil.

“I was worried-”

“I’m fine,” he insisted in a raised voice. Not shouting, just authoritative. It made your stomach drop anyway. At your reaction, he lowered his voice, shaking his head in a jittery way as his eyes cast downwards, a hand raising so he could press a finger against his temple. The headaches he had once told you of must have reached a new level of agonizing. “As soon as her blood is drained from that treacherous heart, everything will be fine… We’ll be fine... So leave me be.”

Overexposure drained those muttered words of much of the power they used to hold but hearing the man you’d seen nearly break down over death speak so casually of gratuitous violence created its own type of deep-set horror. Not to say that was unexpected. You’d heard him say much worse since he learned of the Flame Emperor’s true identity.

“Okay, I-I’m sorry. The Professor is calling for a council and requests that we all attend. I was thinking that you should eat something beforehand. It might make you feel better, you know?” you explained. “But if you’re not hungry, th-that’s fine. The meeting’s in an hour.”

“I understand,” he snapped, cutting you off.

“We could go together, if you wanted,” you offered.

Dimitri gave you a flat look and for a moment you were sure he was going to shout at you. But he didn’t, which was somehow worse. “I’d rather you leave me alone.”

“You don’t need to be alone. It’s not healthy,” you told him quietly. “Before, you told me that you would talk to someone, that you would… Don’t you remember?”

For a long moment, Dimitri didn’t respond. You had no idea what was going on behind the storm of his eyes, the conflicted dance of anger and pain. “Why must you continue to torture me?” Dimitri finally asked, his voice low and throaty. “None of it meant anything, don’t you understand that? It was not my place to tell you those things. I have but a single purpose, to be distracted was my most grievous error. So leave me be.”

He turned away, once again facing the front of the cathedral.

“Okay,” you agreed, almost inaudible with the way your throat had swollen up. “I’m sorry.” Dimitri’s eyes closed, but he didn’t respond. That might have been for the best. You turned on your heel and left the cathedral, feeling the dozens of eyes track each step, whispering. Always whispering, talking, lying, always, always-

On the bridge, you faced the harsh wintery wind, hoping that the sharp bite of its touch would hide the true reason for your watering eyes and red cheeks. Because you were weak. Because you were in love with a man who was fated for tragedy. Because you knew goodbye forever and there was nothing that you could do about it.

Time ticked on, seconds became minutes, minutes you didn’t have the luxury of wasting. You turned you back to the cathedral and the wind and acknowledged that you had at least done as you were told. Just like a soldier would. Just like a knight.

Elegiac Chorale Mortis Honore Opus 7, No. 4

Even with war hanging heavy on the horizon, even with your heart heavy and breaking, the mundane chores still had to be done. Until coming to Garreg Mach, you had never so much as thought about doing the dishes. It left your fingers pruning and hands chapped and dry, but the ritual of it felt satisfying. Taking something dirty and making it clean. You and Ingrid stood above the sudsy, steaming basin; your uniform sleeves rolled up to the elbows.

The two of you made some small talk at first, but it was clear to see that she was preoccupied. You’d have loved a distraction from your Dimitri-centered thoughts―and under different circumstances, you might have tried anyway―but there was really nothing to say. Dimitri’s harsh rejection the day prior still burned hot and horrible in your chest. If you thought about it, you’d probably start crying again.

“I feel as if I owe you an apology,” Ingrid finally said as you worked a particularly tough bit of grime from a plate. That brought you up short, looking at the blonde to try and figure out what she was thinking to say that so suddenly.

“An apology?” you repeated after a moment.

“For what Felix said,” Ingrid clarified, her eyes casting down towards the water.

You stiffened at the reminder. Out of everything that had been happening lately, you had almost forgotten about that incident. No, you had willfully been trying to forget about it. “You don’t have to apologize for that,” you told her.

She sighed. “It’s always been up to me to clean up after them. His Highness, Sylvain, and Felix... I tried to talk to him, but he won’t hear it.” Ingrid paused. “He doesn’t mean it. I doubt that’s any consolation, but-”

“I know,” you said, cutting her off.

The Boar’s bitch. Goddess, that was cruel. But it wasn’t even entirely untrue. That was the worst of it, to have something you held as holy pulled out from your heart and exposed for the appraisal of eyes that would defile its sanctity.

“I don’t know the details of what happened between Felix and Dimitri to make him so angry, but it changed him,” Ingrid said, picking up a tin mug to begin washing. “After Duscur… Well, everything changed. Felix used to adore Dimitri. He followed them everywhere like a lost puppy.”

“Them?”

“Dimitri and… And Glenn.” Pain twisted Ingrid’s voice with the name. “He is… was Felix’s older brother.”

“Dimitri’s mentioned him,” you said. Dimitri talked to him, actually. Glenn was one of the dead, a victim of the Duscur Tragedy. From what you had gathered, Glenn had been the knight ideal. And, if you weren’t mistaken, Ingrid’s betrothed. You tried to imagine the girl you knew being promised to any man, but the image just didn’t compute. It was almost as strange as trying to imagine a younger, softer version of Felix.

“Losing him was hard on all of us,” Ingrid continued. “I can’t say I don’t sympathize with Felix’s pain... but that doesn’t excuse what he said.”

“It’s fine,” you said, focusing especially hard on the plate you were scrubbing.

Ingrid didn’t respond to that, although you could feel her eyes jump up to watch you every so often, her mouth opening before closing again. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of waiting, she said, “I don’t mean to pry, but you and Dimitri…” Your entire body tensed up, shoulders hunching and the silverware you’d been washing slipping back into the basin with a splash. Of course, you’d been waiting for a question like that. But you hadn’t been ready, either. “I know the two of you were close,” Ingrid said, as if she hadn’t noticed your reaction. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I… Well, I suppose I know what it feels like to have your heart broken. If you need someone to talk to, I’m here.”

“Thank you,” you told her stiffly, fishing the fork out of the murky water. There was more to be said, the words piling and pooling up on your tongue and ready to spill out, but before you could speak, the pantry door was flung open, a tiny figure emerging.

"Counting all the way up to numbers I don't even know. And more! Flour and sugar and rice and grain galooore-"

"Annette?" you asked, watching her spin on her toes as she closed the door behind her.

"GAH!" With a graceless turn, Annette whirled around, a hand clasped over her mouth and the notepad she was holding crashing to the floor. Recognition flashed through her wide blue eyes after a moment of horrified shock and she lowered that hand to her chest. “Oh, it’s you!” she exclaimed. “You scared me!”

“Sorry...” you responded, exchanging a glance with the equally bewildered Ingrid.

"Oh, well, it’s fine,” she said, trying to play it off. “You didn't… hear anything, did you?"

You were about to lie, mostly to avoid upsetting her, but Ingrid beat you to it. "You were... singing?”

Annette winced, "I can explain! I was taking inventory for Seteth and got very focused and the song just sort of came to me and… and…" She deflated. "I don't suppose you would pretend that you didn't hear that, would you?"

"Why?" Ingrid asked.

"Because… because…" Annette said, flustered. "Because if everyone finds out that I sing to myself they're all going to think I'm that weird girl who makes up stupid songs about counting and food and then they’ll all whisper about me behind my back about how weird and stupid I am!"

"It's not that weird to sing while you work,” you told her.

"Do you?" Ingrid asked, looking at you curiously.

"Well… not around people…" you answered. Everybody in your class knew about your affinity for music on account of that day Sylvain stole your book of songs, but you didn’t advertise the fact that you enjoyed making music, too. Especially not to the knight ideal like Ingrid. Music was impractical.

"See! It is weird!" Annette exclaimed. "Now you're going to tell everyone, and they'll all think I'm a total freak who sings about flour and sugar and-"

"Annette…" Ingrid cut in, frowning in concern.

Annette continued on like she hadn’t heard, her rant getting progressively more distracted, "And they're gonna look at me and laugh and never take me seriously because of the stupid childish songs and-"

"I didn't know you liked music," you said, interrupting her.

Annette blinked, focusing on you. "I don’t really tell people. It’s kind of embarrassing.”

"If it makes you happy, I don't think it's embarrassing," you told her.

"She's right," Ingrid said seriously. "I don't have any interest in music, but the song wasn't that bad."

"That bad…" Annette said, frowning. "So it was still bad. I knew it. Oh, this is just the worst!"

"It wasn't!" you told her quickly. "I liked the melody; did you compose it?"

"Well, yeah," she said, fidgeting with her notepad.

"That's really amazing, Annette,” you said enthusiastically. “I'm no good at writing music."

"Oh, it's not that impressive," she said, waving her hand.

"I'd love it if you could teach me some time," you said. "It might be a nice break from-" you waved your hand around generally, your voice trailing off.

“Well, if you really want to, I guess I wouldn’t mind,” Annette said. “As long as you promise to never, ever tell anybody what you heard today.”

“I promise,” you vowed.

“As do I,” Ingrid said.

“That’s a relief,” Annette said, finally picking up her dropped notepad. “Are you free tonight?”

“I have patrol duty with Ashe,” you replied, frowning. “Maybe tomorrow?”

“Sure! I’ll have to let you know when, though. There’s so much to do.” Annette sighed. “Speaking of which, what was I doing…?”

“Inventory?” Ingrid offered helpfully.

“Oh, right! That!” Annette responded, her trademark bounce returning. “Well, I’d better go, then. I’ll see you tomorrow!”

You and Ingrid said goodbye, but Annette was already out of the kitchen. Seconds later, there was a loud crash right outside the door and Annette’s muffled voice demanded to know why there was a box in the way where people were walking. It left your heart feeling oddly light. Everything else could change, but Annette was still a whirlwind mess of drive, clumsiness, and quirk.

“If you have patrol, you should probably get going,” Ingrid said. “I don’t mind finishing up here.”

“Oh, right,” you said, quickly drying off your hands. “I hate being out in the town these days, it’s so empty and creepy.”

“Do you want to switch?” Ingrid asked, raising an eyebrow. “I have guard duty tomorrow at dawn.”

“As enticing as that sounds, I think I’ll pass,” you told her, your face scrunching up at the very idea of it. It was one thing to be cold and miserable at night but being cold and miserable with the memory of your soft, warm bed fresh in your mind was worse.

“I suppose it was worth a try. Be on your guard,” Ingrid told you. “And be safe.”

“Thanks,” you said. “I’ll try.”

Elegiac Chorale Mortis Honore Opus 7, No. 5

“Ansel’s stories are great!” you insisted, walking side by side with Ashe on your nighttime patrols. With the curfew, there were no other people wandering around, but that wasn’t the only reason for the uncomfortably hollow feeling in Garreg Mach. With each passing day, the small towns that littered the outskirts became ghostly haunts, shops closing up and merchants who sold anything other than weapons and supplies packing up. Outside the realm of his torch, the once lively was a depressing and frightening place. But having company helped. It helped a lot. “I love the characters.”

“I didn’t say they’re bad,” Ashe responded quickly. “But... they’re mostly romance. They shouldn’t be shelved by the stories about knights, someone could accidentally pick one up and have no idea what they’re in for.”

“There are knights and heroes, too,” you pointed out. “Besides, romance is integral to the plots of most hero stories. What’s worth fighting for more than love?”

“You’re starting to sound like Sylvain,” Ashe told you, laughing.

“Don’t you fight for love?” you asked, only slightly defensively. “Love for your country, your family, your friends… Isn’t that why people fight? We’re all driven by passion, don’t you think?”

“Huh… I guess that’s true. But... wait, that wasn’t my point! I-” Ashe’s words abruptly cut off as you turned a corner. This street, a main thoroughfare with some of the few remaining open establishments, was well lit. A crowd of people congregated at the far end. “What’s going on over there?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sight. “Is there some sort of event?” you asked.

“Not that I’m aware of,” Ashe said. “Besides, the curfew...”

“We should go check it out,” you said, all amusement from your conversation going stale and cold. You had a very bad feeling about this.  

Ashe quickly put out the torch, following after you as you approached the crowd. There was a sense of dread in the air. There was a crowd, sure, but their voices weren’t loud enough, no laugher could be heard. It was just tension and raw, crackling energy. Most of the people were soldiers, men and women from other battalions. Some villagers. The entire crowd smelled of urine and liquor and the desperate vinegar of excited sweat. You tried to cut your way into the group, standing on your toes to see what they were all circled around. Nobody paid you any mind, too focused on what was happening to make way.

“Is that… His Highness?” Ashe asked, his voice loud above the noise.

And it was. Standing in the impromptu ring created by the surrounding crowd, Dimitri faced off against five other men. One of them was wearing Imperial fatigues. Another wore clothes you recognized as being an unkempt and dirty Faerghus soldier uniform. All of them had a wild, drunken look and anger and bloodlust.

“-known that your association with that Duscur beast would rub off on you,” the Faerghus soldier was saying. “I refuse to follow a monster into battle, let alone lead my country.”

“I see,” Dimitri replied. Despite the many voices rumbling around the square, his was easy to make out. “You have betrayed your country, trading one monster for another. How does that feel?”

That made the other man wince, but his fury was far more potent. They were ganging up on him, this was an ambush.

“Ashe go get help. Professor Byleth… Guards… anyone! Hurry!” you told him, your voice quivering with urgency. He blinked, his eyes wide and frightened, but nodded.

“I’ll be quick.”

With Ashe running off, you tried to steady yourself with a deep breath, forcing your hands to stop shaking. “Let me through!” you demanded, trying once more to cut your way through the crowd. People shifted, although you took more than one elbow to the ribs, bodies pushing back against you. “On behalf of the Church of Seiros, I demand that you let me through!” That finally worked. Sort of. You broke out into the front of the group, a hand on your sword hilt. “This i-is… an illegal act of violence against the crown prince of Faerghus… Disperse now!” Jumbled and nervous, your words were still able to get the attention of the group of men. Dimitri turned, meeting your eyes for a half-second with a look of surprise. And then his face darkened, his jaw clenching as he looked away.

“What is this?” the Imperial asked mockingly, “Another student? Maybe a friend of yours, crown prince?”

Dimitri said nothing, not even looking at you.

“The guards will be arriving soon!” you threatened.

“Faerghus law allows any Faerghus soldier challenge his superior, nobility and royalty, to a fight,” the soldier said. “It’s up to him if he wishes to accept the terms.”

“What do you say, beast prince?” the Imperial asked. “Do you have any honor left, or have you abandoned that with your humanity?”

“Honor?” Dimitri asked, sounding amused. “Coming from one who wears the colors of the Empire? Tell me, do you act on behalf of that woman?”

“I act for myself,” he responded. “And for justice. My brother was one of the men you slaughtered in the Holy Tomb. I saw his body, creature. You’re no prince, you’re not even a soldier. You’re a monster.”

“And your gang of traitorous vermin?” Dimitri asked. “They agree?”

“Faerghus is better off without you,” the Faerghus soldier said, eliciting sounds of agreement from the others.

“Fine,” Dimitri said. “I accept your challenge.”

“No!” you shouted, lunging forward. Or, attempting to. A man you hadn’t even noticed shot an arm out to keep you from entering the informal circle, pulling you back.

“Don’t interfere,” he said, holding your arms pinned so you couldn’t go for your weapon. His breath was hot and sour on your ear, making you shudder in disgust. “I have money on this fight, girl. Five to one… the pretty boy’s ‘bout to learn a lesson he won’t forget.”

“Dimitri, stop!” you begged. It didn’t even occur to you to be worried for him. Only about what he would do.

The Faerghus soldier went for him first, pulling a knife from his stained coat and lunging at Dimitri with wavering, drunken posture. He was a large guy, the type that expected to win fights based purely on his size and raw strength. Dimitri sidestepped the attack, grabbing the man’s beefy arm as he did to misdirect his momentum and contort the arm behind his back, twisting him around and sending him staggering to the ground.

Dimitri had gotten hold of the knife during the exchange, but he didn’t bother using it. When the large man made to grab Dimitri’s legs, Dimitri kicked him in the chest. Bones crunched. Loudly. Dimitri kicked him again, the choppy strands of his blond hair flipping and falling with the motion.

Despite the shocking display of efficient brutality, the Imperial went into attack. His knuckles glinted with metal as he drew back his fist.

“Watch out!” you called, but the warning was unnecessary. Dimitri whirled around, grabbing the Imperial’s hand before it could make contact and slamming it flat against the side of the building. He drove the knife right below the band of metal ringing the Imperials fingers, pushing it into the grout between brick until the handle was flush to the man’s skin. The Imperial screamed, immediately trying to pull the knife free, but it was stuck. He tried to lash out at Dimitri, but the prince easily ducked beneath the attack.

The other three men bunched in a group, ganging up on Dimitri together. The tallest stood in the center, a short man on his right and a heavy looking guy who’d picked up a broom as a makeshift weapon on his left. All you could see of Dimitri the back of his uniform and the fluttering cape on his shoulder, so brilliant and vividly blue.

Ducking out of the way of the broom’s handle, Dimitri took a fist to the face from the shortest man. Despite the successful blow, the short man was immediately rewarded with a brutal backhand that sent him to the ground with a fleshy kind of crack.

Dimitri didn’t hesitate, throwing his body at the man holding the broom. The wooden handle split into two pieces beneath Dimitri’s gauntleted left hand, his right elbow slamming against the heavy guy’s face while he was distracted by the loss of his weapon. The heavy man’s face immediately exploded in a bright spray of blood, sending him stumbling back and tripping onto the ground, clutching his face desperately.

The tall one tried to attack with a straight right, but Dimitri spun out of the way, swinging the broken piece of broomstick handle in an arc at his head. The wood broke on impact with the guy’s skull. While he was stunned, Dimitri’s fist easily connected with his stomach. He dropped with a heavy “umph” of a groan.

Breathing heavily, Dimitri turned from them, dropping the short length of broomstick handle with a clatter of wood on stone and tossing his sweaty hair from his brow. Blood dripped from his nose, staining the ashy pale of his complexion, dribbling over his chapped lips.

The Imperial was the only one standing, having managed to free himself. You hadn’t seen what he’d done to get out of the trap, but the knife remained in the wall and his hand was in a ruined state, too covered in blood for you to see.

Dimitri faced him, his chest heaving and a gruesome smile on his face. Blood dripped into his mouth, staining his teeth red. With wild eyes, he surveyed his final opponent.

Had Dimitri done this on purpose? Ensured that the Imperial would be the last to face him so he could savor it? Something about the expression on his face made you think that sickening thought. Taking advantage of the way the grip keeping you still had slackened in horror, you stumbled forward.

“Dimitri stop!”  you shouted.

He ignored you, moving towards the last man with the predatory gait of a killer. You didn’t even think about it, lunging at him and wrapping your arms around his middle. Doing that could have killed you, you knew that. His reflexes were faster than you could ever hope to move. But your blood pounded steadily in your ears and your pulse made your throat feel swollen and men you hoped weren’t dead littered the ground. You needed to make him stop.

Somehow, it worked.

“Unhand me,” Dimitri demanded, prying you off of him despite your attempts to hold fast. The violence of it pushed you back several steps, but you managed not to fall. “This Imperial traitor asked for a fair fight. Have I not granted him his wish?”

“You’ve won!” You looked at the glowering Imperial who was wrapping his hand with a ripped piece of shirt. “Yield, please. You can’t fight, your men are down… Please, stop this.”

“No,” he said, pulling the fabric tight with a wince. With that, he swung, his arm arcing clumsily towards Dimitri who easily caught the fist, twisting it with enough force to make the main shout in pain. The movement forced the Imperial to fall forward, but Dimitri caught him with a grip on the front of his uniform, pulling him close.

“Dimitri,” you pled. “You can’t kill him. Please.”

“No? Even though he follows that wretched woman?” Dimitri asked. “Even when he would have gleefully killed me in an honorless fight?”

“Please, just yield and leave. Please,” you begged of the other man. “Dimitri, you’d let him go if he yielded, right?

“This foul creature does not deserve your pity,” he said.

“Please?” you begged again.

“Fine,” Dimitri allowed, his lip curled as he looked at the man. “I’ll let you go free. Provided you deliver a message to your master.”

The Imperial sneered, answering by screwing up his mouth for a second and then spitting. The glob of saliva landed squarely on Dimitri’s cheek. Dimitri accepted it with a cold, empty patience, letting it slide down his face without any reaction. “I’ll accept death before I do something for a beast like you,” the Imperial said.

“Very well, I shall be glad to deliver,” Dimitri responded. “You and your gang of cowards are not the first men I have sent to the Eternal Flames. But you already know that, don’t you? Your face is not even worth remembering. Just as I have forgotten your brother, you too will die a meaningless death.”

A strangled sound of rage left the Imperial’s mouth, his face twisting in genuine hatred as he fought the hold Dimitri had on his uniform. Blood had already soaked through the makeshift bandage on his hand. And Dimitri was going to kill him. That sickening smile was gone, all emotion sapped out. His expression was cold and cruel. The act of killing made him dark. Empty.

“Dimitri!” a familiar voice called, breaking the tense scene apart. The crowd, whatever remained of it, parted for Professor Byleth’s confident stride, his green eyes focused solely on the prince. Ashe hurried behind him; his cheeks colored with a flush of exertion. Dimitri’s grip on the Imperial slackened, some awareness seeping into his eyes. Finally, he wiped the spit from his cheek, catching some of the blood from his nose. It left a rusty streak on his pale skin.

The Imperial took advantage of Dimitri’s distraction. His nails made contact with Dimitri’s face for a second before the prince reacted, throwing him away with unnerving ease. What was left was four distinct and angry short trails of red high on Dimitri’s cheekbone.

“It seems you’ve been spared,” Dimitri called as the man scrambled to get upright. But he had landed poorly, swaying dizzily like he hit his head. “This time.”

“What happened?” Professor Byleth asked you, forcing your attention away from the horrific scene. You cleared your throat, trying to calm your mind.

“They challenged him to a fight,” you said. Byleth’s lips formed a line, but he nodded. “And he accepted.”

“These men were Imperial vermin and traitors,” Dimitri added. “They wished for a chance to take me out and failed.” He sighed, shaking his head. “Vengeance… Vengeance is for the strong. They were too weak to attain it.”

“You didn’t need to accept their challenge,” you told him, belatedly realizing that you were crying. Shaking, too. Trembling so hard you felt it in your bones. “You’re… you’re better than that.”

“Am I?” Dimitri asked. “Tell me, would it be honorable to keep another man from his revenge? I allowed him a fair chance, and he was unable to follow through.”

“Still…” you muttered, looking around at the carnage. Already, guards were surveying the downed men. Checking for pulses. Killing men in battle was one thing but killing them here in the dark and dingy streets of a nearly abandoned town. A place that was supposed to be a refuge, to be sacred. It was like you couldn’t breathe, like the world was closing in on you.

This wasn’t Dimitri, was it? The man who had kissed you, who had held you, who had made you laugh. The man you were in love with.

“If you can’t stomach reality, you have no place here,” Dimitri said, stalking past you. Professor Byleth attempted to stop him, but that didn’t matter. Dimitri was a force of nature, like a storm or a fire, without reason or restraint.

Besides, the guards for calling for Professor Byleth’s help, likely asking for advice on how to handle this situation. How were you supposed to handle this situation? What were you supposed to do?

“Are you all right?” Ashe asked, peering at you with a look of concern. “Let’s go back to the monastery, the guards can take care of this.”

“Okay,” you agreed. Your ears were ringing. It sounded like screaming. It smelled like blood and fire and the tangy, sour, stale sweat that reeked of pain and fear. Was this any more or less horrific than what you had already seen? You already knew the violence Dimitri was capable of, you already knew the depths to which he had descended.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You look really pale…” Ashe said.

You felt a little numb. Empty, cold, like everything had been drained out and replaced with cotton.

“Ashe?” you asked, but your voice sounded far away.

“Yes?” He looked so concerned, so earnestly worried for you. That was good, nice. You could hold on to that.

“What do you think it is to be honorable?”

Ashe blinked, clearly confused, but his answer was quick. “Honor is doing what’s right.”

“Who defines what’s right?” you asked.

“I’m not so sure this is important right now,” Ashe said, looking around. You ignored it all, the noise and the people and the carnage and the fear and the disgust, focused only on the one question. “Perhaps we should wait until we’re-”

“Please?” you asked. That word was etched into your tongue.

He looked like he was about to argue but relented after a moment. “I suppose the goddess defines what’s right, so do those who lead us,” Ashe said. “But knights also must follow their hearts. To follow all of those things… that’s honorable.”

You closed your eyes, trying to comprehend exactly what he said. That definition definitely made sense. Honor both was and wasn’t. Nebulous and strict. If you doubted what you knew, you’d lose it entirely. It was better to let it be, you decided that long ago.

Letting out a shaky breath, you nodded. “You’re right.”

“Are you okay?” Ashe asked again.

“Yeah,” you said, nodding. It wasn’t a lie, exactly. You just had to ignore this, shove it from your mind. Focus on other things. “Let’s go back to the monastery.”

[inklingshadows]

Do Asian Parents Actually Care About Their Children?

The negative stereotypes about Asian lifestyle - or more specifically, Asian parenting - never failed to amaze me. I have lived in the West, interacted with so many people abroad and while not everyone are racist and xenophobic towards Asians, most of them had all sorts of myths made up in mind about Asian lives. I spent so many countless exhausting hours explaining to them how these stereotypes are so deceptive (which, by the way, is literally true about every single culture) and even then their brains would not concede. Which brings the question: how rooted are these beliefs in non-Asian (and even Asian) people? It literally prompted me to write this post where I want to break the stereotypical beliefs and explain them:

Asian parents care more about family reputation than their children. 

True that Asian culture is family orientated. True that we prioritize our family duties more than we do independence and individualism. But you need to understand that this goes both ways. Most children also feel the same way the parents do. You also need to understand being family orientated does not mean we as children are submissively obedient to our elders’ desires. Being family oriented means growing up in a household always full of cousins as playmates, aunts and uncles bringing over food, celebrating meals for no reason apart from the fact everyone is together, gossiping about family drama here and there. Having a cousin come over rather than a friend to help you with your breakup dramas, your parents and other close relatives the first people to call for a place to stay or loans/gifts for money if you fell into crisis, rather than hotels and banks. Being family orientated means finding pleasure in making your family members happy rather than your childhood superhero ambitions. I chose to study architecture because my grandpa dreamed that I would be designing houses and bridges in the poor villages one day. I came back from abroad even though I had a cool and high pay because my father was dead and my mother would be all alone in the country. I study and get good grades simply because I wanna make my parents proud. As Asian children, we do these not because our parents force us to, but because we actually feel like this. And we do feel amazing when parents go around gushing on to their friends about how proud they are of us, see her? See the girl with the engineer of the year award? That’s my daughter! My son came back to the country just for me, because I wished he would be near and helping the country grow.

So the individualistic and independent Westerners look at the Asian kids doing what their parents want, and they immediately assume that the parents have oppressed us into leading this life. The truth is, we do it because we want to. And in case the kids don’t, in case they don’t study what their parents had dreamed them of doing so….ah well. Parents may be disappointed but they would rarely oppress their children into choosing their majors. They may seriously interfere and try to convince their children if they were choosing a major that did not have a high-paying job and chance at success and leading a comfortable life, such as music. Even then, this is because they care very hard about their children. Not because of honour at all.

Asian parents are never satisfied with the achievements of their children.

This is very untrue. On the contrary, they are more satisfied with your achievements. It’s just that they rarely tell you that to your face. They would give you flat tones of “Good job” and then criticise and tell you how you can do better. It’s because they believe that you can still thrive harder and do better. They never want you to stop trying. So while you keep working more on bettering your math scores or your literature subject, your parents go gush about how good you are at this and that to their relatives and friends.

But they do appreciate you and tell you they are proud of your achievements. It’s just they make those moments count. When you feel low and need to boost your confidence, they will tell you how much faith they have in you. The fact that these moments are so rare makes them more special.

Asian parents are very controlling and oppressive.

By Western standards, it does seem that Asian parents are very controlling about their children’s influences and movements. But you also need to understand that life in the West is usually very secure, less poor and you can rely on the government to protect your human rights and laws. For most of the Asian territory, this is, or was not for a long time, true. Staying in community is the way to survive here. Asian parents know this face and they want to shield their children from the harshness of life they have faced. This is why they appear very protective and controlling. But children are not oppressed. Given a certain age, definitely children have a say in their lives and they are allowed much freedom as they grow older.

Asian culture is just as flawed as any culture.  It’s got its great points, as well as severe drawbacks. They can be too overprotective to the point they shelter their children and make them unprepared for real life. They can be stoic and rigid so they don’t have intimacy with children. But they also raise their children amidst a lot of laughter and family reunions. They teach their kids to be sensible and practical about life. Yes, there are extreme parents who oppress their children and only care about family reputation and force them into marriages with business partners and make them choose careers they are not enthusiastic about. But it’s not like abusive parents don’t exist in the West either. It’s not easy to understand a culture that you are not part of. We need to put ourselves in the shoes of the people and view the world as they do, to understand their actions. Learn not to judge a book by its cover. If you cannot afford to read it, try not to judge it at all.

- From the shadows. 

[all-things-are-nothing-to-me]

Towards An Indigenous Egoism

Introduction

I am an Indigenous person of the Oglala Lakota nation. My ancestors are from the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation in western South Dakota. Before then, they were nomadic and travelled freely across the entire area known as the Great Plains. I am also an individualist anarchist and, for better or worse, exist within a radical “community” of other anarchists here in the United States. I have been bombarded with countless write-offs of individualist and egoist thought, calling it capitalist, colonialist, or even white supremacist. I’m writing this particular piece in response to a friend of mine who made the claim that individualism and self-interest are basic tenets of colonization. While this may be true if self-interest is defined by colonial ideology, I will present an individualist and egoist-anarchist thought that is a tool of decolonization and indigenous resistance.

Individualism, Colonialism and Entitlement

What makes individualism and egoism so appealing is the sense of liberty and freedom it offers: the sense that no one else should restrain you from attaining your desires and that you and your desires are important. We are deprived of freedom in every culture and society: we face the coercion to work, to serve the collective, to honour the morality of God and the church, to fear prison and internalize policing, to fulfil social roles, to reproduce the family, to submit to authority, to be a productive contributor to society and humanity. Active pursuit of freedom seems a natural reaction to constraints. European explorers, colonists and settlers were seeking this freedom. They felt entitled to resources and land, which lead to the removal and relocation of Indigenous peoples. They felt entitled to the exploitation of free labour, which lead to the transport and slavery of Africans. It was in their interest to expand the wealth and power of their nation or colony, and disregard the interests of anyone who would be in the way of this. In short, colonization is the acting on behalf of the self-interest of the colonizer.

However, Max Stirner’s definition of what constitutes a voluntary egoist offers a different vision of colonial individualism. A colony is a collective that exists to benefit its mother country with natural resources, labour, spread of nationalist and Christian ideologies and culture, and strategic control of land from which to wage war. Everyone who exists within a colony is then existing to serve their country, whether it be workers to extract resources or in factories maintaining production, armies to fend off rival countries and Indigenous peoples, missionaries to spread religion amongst Indigenous nations, or politicians to maintain the order of the colony’s population. The thirteen colonies realized their lack of freedom from Britain, and initiated the American Revolution, created the Declaration of “Independence,” and the creation of the United States of America. The United States is founded on an illusion of freedom, liberty and individualism. This has always been a central marker of American national ideology. But a delusional mass that continues to serve and submit to various authorities are not voluntary egoists, but rather, in Stirner’s words, involuntary egoists. A patriotic soldier may join the military and fight his country’s enemy in his self-interest, but in doing so, he is submitting to his commanding officer, to the politicians who decided to go to war, to the duty to obey orders, and to his devotion to Country. He is giving up his freedom as an individual and serving a collective: his idea of a “greater good”. He is giving up the ability to become his full Self. The same can be applied to the religious man who serves God in self-interest, to attain salvation and avoid eternal suffering in his imagined Hell. He represses many aspects of himself to conform to his idea, or his church’s idea of God and morality. Every man who fought in the American Revolution and every person who has immigrated to America – for freedom, for individualism, for the American dream – has been chasing individualism, which can never truly be achieved by servitude.

The History of American Colonialism and Indigenous People

Colonial individualism and entitlement were achieved at the expense of Indigenous peoples. In order for these explorers, colonists, and settlers to expand and have access to what would bring them power and wealth, Indigenous people had to be subjugated. In a military sense, this was not an easy task at first, but due to epidemics brought by Europeans, many Indigenous nations were severely weakened or nearly wiped out entirely. This allowed European/American colonizers to gain a military advantage. Forced removal from land followed; any land that held value of any sort was cleared out and exploited by the colonizers, resulting in near extinction of animals and plants that Indigenous people relied on to sustain themselves. Any resistance to removal brought warfare and the individuals who advocated for such things were labelled “savage” and either forcibly civilized or killed. The civilizing was left to missionaries, whereas the killing was the job of the United States and Canadian governments. Both spiritual and cultural traditions and ceremonies were outlawed. Belongings considered to be sacred were taken away and destroyed. Children were removed from families and sent to boarding schools. Their hair, which held tremendous spiritual meaning, was cut off to resemble whites. They were hit and beaten for speaking their traditional languages. They were converted to Christianity. They were educated as the colonizer saw fit, to be suited to living up to Western cultural standards. Everything was done to exterminate Indigenous culture, in the service of colonialism.

Self-Hatred in Modern Day Indigenous Communities

We have survived through a great deal. History has erased us; to most we no longer exist. We are still very much alive, but modern day reservation life is no treat. Colonization’s effects still haunt us as a people, often taking subtle forms. Alcoholism, addiction, domestic abuse, economic deprivation, poverty, diabetes and suicide are at high rates on reservations all across North America. Most of these stem from self-hatred, both individual and collective. Is it a coincidence that many of these issues also plague African-American neighborhoods in major cities across the United States? These are the results of colonization, of removing indigenous peoples from the land that they’ve become accustomed to living with, of forcing them to assimilate to Western civilized cultural standards and a capitalist market economy.

The Colonizer in Our Heads

Aside from the self-hatred I see in fellow Native people, I also witness assimilation and a sense of identification with the colonizer. The remnants of our communities are now run by tribal governments, tribal police, and tribal courts pushing reform and imitating the way that the colonizer runs things in his world. Our youth are encouraged to go to college, get careers, and be successful; or join the army to fight in the United States government’s wars to enforce colonialism in other parts of the world. I frequently attend, dance, and sing at powwows across North America, and see crosses and Nike symbols on individuals’ dance outfits. It’s unheard of for there not to be an American flag carried in at grand entry, followed by a song to honour all Native and non-Native veterans for “protecting our freedom” and “allowing us the privileges to do what we’re doing today.”

Individualism as a Tenet of Decolonization

It should be evident that when we talk about “self-interest,” we cannot speak of objectivity. What may be in your self-interest could also very well be something that would keep me from something in my self-interest. This makes the blanket statement “self-interest and individualism are a tenet for colonization” a simplistic view of what self-interest is and avoids the question of whose interest it is that we’re talking about. As an Indigenous person who takes a strong stance against assimilation, colonialism, and capitalism, it is certainly not in my interest to maintain those structures.

Individualism is the idea that you and your desires are important. Egoism implies this and also states that one ought to act on behalf of oneself to realize desires. As Indigenous people, what could we use more than self-confidence? We need to know that we as individuals, and as an Indigenous people, matter. For centuries we’ve been beaten down, physically and psychologically. We’ve been oppressed by Power for so long that we’re convinced that we don’t matter, that we’re worthless, that we’re savages: less than human and unfit for society. The psychological effects of colonization have been studied, dissected, and proven to result in both internal and external self-hatred.

Some of us have accepted this; we abuse ourselves and each other. Or we self-medicate to numb ourselves from the pain. Some of us assimilate to be recognized by our oppressors, to feel a sense of self-worth. I for one want to appease to no one. I want to know that I matter to me, not to the society that denies me my desires, keeps me from my freedom: a society responsible for all of the damage done to Indigenous people worldwide. One thing that I do see at powwows all across the continent are bumper stickers and clothing expressing “Native Pride.” This is something that my elders have said since as far back as I can remember. “Be proud of who and what you are.” If we were to take on this pride and understand that we do matter, to us, and start acting in our self-interest, it would mean war against those who stand in our way, who keep us from our freedom.

Egoism Means War On Society

The idea of individualism that the European explorers and colonizers failed to realize was its rejection to duty, devotion and submission. I recognize no authority figure over me, nor do I aspire to any particular ideology. I am not swayed by duty because I owe nothing to anyone. I am devoted to nothing but myself. I subscribe to no civilized standards or set of morals because I recognize no God or religion. No amount of pressure, judgment, or force should cause me to restrain myself from that which I desire. Egoist anarchists have declared war on society, war on civilization. This resistance is in the interest of anyone who desires a life free of submission to a ruling power, to those who dream of a world of freedom, to those who would build community with those who share common interests and affinity: a world of free association, so we can live as we please and experience a fulfilling life. This should apply to no one more than Indigenous peoples. As the Western civilized culture’s standards and values have been forced down our throats, we need to remember who we are. We need to remember the importance of self and our desires.

The rejection of this submission does not come easily. When I say war on society, I mean it. Decolonization can only occur if we confront our enemy: the colonizer. If we don’t, then we’re only perpetuating the colonizer/colonized relationship. We can never expect the oppressors to give up their privileges for the sake of the oppressed. This initiation and confrontation may necessitate violence. “It should be noted that colonialism was imposed through military force. Ultimately, it is the system’s monopoly on the use of violence that enables it to impose its will” (Warrior Magazine).

We have to remember what it means to be a “warrior”. We honor our veterans as Native people, to revive the traditions of honoring our warriors; but a true warrior doesn’t fight for her enemy, and she doesn’t submit to an authority that dominates and subjugates her and her people. A true warrior fights for himself, his family, and his community. Make no mistake: our indigenous ancestors didn’t go down without a fight. We remember the Sioux uprising, where a broken promise of food led to attacks on white settlers and theft of food from settlements. Andrew Myrick, a lead trader who said of the broken promise “if they are hungry, let them eat grass,” was one of the first killed, found days later with his mouth stuffed with grass.

The history of indigenous resistance began the day Columbus and his men landed and continues today in struggles such as the refusal of the Diné to relocate as strip-mines rip apart their lands and generating plants poison the desert air. I think it’s time we stress the importance of Self. I think it’s time we brainstorm new strategies and study the history of Indigenous resistance to formulate new paths toward decolonization and the destruction of civilization.

[fizzing-imagines]

A Choice With No Regrets; Act 1

A/N: First of all, I want to thank @darlingreich so much for helping me get ideas, inspiration and helping me design this version of Delphini! To make it short, I read the Cursed Child and liked Delphini Riddle. What I didn’t like was her whole story arc. So, I went and made my own story of her, to give her what she deserves! Please leave feedback if you like it!

Words: 5,190

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Being nervous was an understatement. My hands were shaking and my throat felt incredibly dry, and adding to my dry throat, every breath I tried to take came out insanely shaky and stung in my nose. Every time I took a step further my feet felt like they were floating. The only reason why I knew that they were, in fact, still on the ground was that I heard my black heels hit the ground with every step.

It was a cold and windy night. The wind blew in my face, and hit my legs. Small shivers made their way up my body from time to time. A dress wasn‘t the best choice for this night. Before entering the grounds of the mansion, I stopped and looked around for any source of life in the windows of the house. There was a little light coming from one of the upstair windows. I pulled the hood of my black cape further in my face and continued my way.

After a while I realised that wearing high heels while waking to the Riddles mansion wasnt the best idea. It recently rained and the ground was mudy. A cleaning spell will definetly be needed before I dare to face him. Before approaching the large front door of the old mansion, I looked around for any mudbloods. None there. ‘‘Alohomora‘‘, I whispered and the door unlocked. I silently snuck in and closed the door behind me. After it closed I pulled off my hood and opened my cape. I let it slowly slide down my shoulders and hung it up on a dusty coathanger a few feet away from the door.

‘‘Welcome home, mistress.‘‘, I heard an oddly familiar voice say in parsel. ‘‘Nagini‘‘, I answered in the same language. ‘‘So you‘re my fathers new pet‘‘. Before going here, I have recieved a message from Peter Pettigrew that I might be greeted by a large boa constrictor. Nagini started sliding up my left leg and slowly wrapped around my waist. She smelled me for a while before I continued talking. ‘‘Where is my father?‘‘, I whispered in english. Nagini let go of me and slid back on the ground before moving to a staircase. ‘‘Go upstairs‘‘, Nagini told me. ‘‘He‘s in the room at the end of the right corridor.‘‘. Nagini turned and slithered away, probably to explore the mansion. I slowly and carefully walked up the stairs and looked to my right as soon as I took the last step up. Faint, male voices were heard from down the corridor, so I followed the direction of them.

The wooden floor was creaking underneat my 5 inch black heels. My fathers followers must bestupid, or else they would have alredy heard me. Before taking any further step, I straightened my hair and made sure my dress didn‘t go over my knees. After all, I needed to look presentable. ‘‘My Lord?‘‘, I called out while taking some further steps. ‘‘Father?‘‘ The door to the dimly lit room swung open and a familar face met my eyes. ‘‘Pettigrew.‘‘, I said in a monotone voice upon seeing his face and stared walking up to the door. I ignored the rat-looking man, I couldn‘t stand him just from hearing about him. He‘s nothing more than a coward who hides behind the next most powerful person. He isn‘t loyal and never will be.

There was an armchairs back facing me, with Barty Crouch Jr. squating next to it. ‘‘Mistress.‘‘ Crouch Junior said, a little gibberish. ‘‘I wasn‘t hoping to see my bosses son today, but it‘s always a nice suprise.‘‘ I walked a few steps up to him. ‘‘Where is father?‘‘

‘‘Delphini.‘‘ a high-pitched, yet cold voice coming from the armchair said. ‘‘My child, come here.‘‘ I walked around the armchair and was met by my father. But he didn‘t look like my father. He honestly looked like the miscarriage I had 2 years ago. ‘‘Father. It‘s so nice to see you again.‘‘, I said again and squated next to the left armrest. The fetus-looking creature that was currently my father moved his head in my direction.

‘‘Move further into the light, I want to see my heiress.‘‘, he demanded. I did as he said and moved further into the light given by the fireplace. It was silent for a few seconds before my father broke that. ‘‘Such beauty, is she not Crouch?‘‘ my father said and his fetus-face had a smirk eched uppon it. ‘‘Not a single drop of muggle blood, that‘s the secret ingredient.‘‘

He‘s been claiming of me being a pureblood all my life, however, I‘ve always known the truth. I just never dared to correct him. ‘‘Just like you, father.‘‘, I answered to his compliment, which he seemed pleased with.

‘‘Take a seat.‘‘, he ordered me. Pettigrew dragged a chair across the room so I could sit down next to my father. ‘‘Now my dear,‘‘, he continued. ‘‘what about your position as a teacher?‘‘. A smirk ran across my lips as he asked.

‘‘All is going according to plan. I recieved a letter from Dumbledore two days ago that I was accepted as the new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher.‘‘, I proudly told him. ‘‘At least one of the Riddles will finally take on the position.‘‘

‘‘A good girl like you‘ve ever been, that‘s just what I‘ve expected of you.‘‘, he said with a miscevious smirk on his face. I replied with just a smile.

‘‘I‘m really sorry my husband and I can‘t take you in father.‘‘, I said to him and took his fetus-hand. ‘‘But with both of us working a ministry job and me working under the man ho trialed my mother it‘ just too dangerous.‘‘ I kissed the back of his hand once, as a sign of submission.

‘‘It‘s alright, Delphini. I have quite the comfortable place to stay here.‘‘, he replied, and I nodded to show that I‘ve understood.

‘‘My Lord, may I ask how long we are going to stay here?‘‘ , Pettigrew interrupted our conversation.

‘‘A week,‘‘ said my fathers cold voice. ‘‘Perhaps longer. The place is moderately comfortable, and the plan cannot proceed yet. It would be foolish to act before the Quidditch World Cup is over.‘‘

"The - the Quidditch World Cup, My Lord?" said Peter. "Forgive me, but - I do not understand - why should we wait until the World Cup is over?" "Because, fool, at this very moment wizards are pouring into the country from all over the world, and every meddler from the Ministry of Magic will be on duty, on the watch for signs of unusual activity, checking and double-checking identities. They will be obsessed with security, lest the Muggles notice anything. So we wait. "

I nodded in agreement. Working in the department of international magical cooperation I‘ve noticed that all too well. I‘ve had much more work than before, so much that I now also have to work at home.

"Your Lordship is still determined, then?" Wormtail said quietly. "Certainly I am determined, Wormtail. " There was a note of menace in my fathers cold voice now. A slight pause followed - and Peter spoke, the words tumbling from him in a rush, as though he was forcing himself to say this before he lost his nerve. "It could be done without Harry Potter, My Lord. ". I looked at Pettigrew with slight shock. How could he say something like this? "Without Harry Potter?" breathed my fathers voice softly. "I see. . . " "My Lord, I do not say this out of concern for the boy!" said Pettigrew, his voice rising squeakily. "The boy is nothing to me, nothing at all! It is merely that if we were to use another witch or wizard - any wizard - the thing could be done so much more quickly! If you allowed me to leave you for a short while - you know that I can disguise myself most effectively - I could be back here in as little as two days with a suitable person -" "I could use another wizard," said our Lords cold voice softly, "that is true. . . " "My Lord, it makes sense," said Peter, sounding thoroughly relieved now. "Laying hands on Harry Potter would be so difficult, he is so well protected -" "And so you volunteer to go and fetch me a substitute? I wonder. . . perhaps the task of nursing me has become wearisome for you, Wormtail? Could this suggestion of abandoning the plan be nothing more than an attempt to desert me?" as he said that, I couldn‘t help but smirk. "My Lord! I - I have no wish to leave you, none at all -" "Do not lie to me!" hissed my father. "I can always tell, Wormtail! You are regretting that you ever returned to me. I revolt you. I see you flinch when you look at me, feel you shudder when you touch me. . . " "No! My devotion to Your Lordship -" "Your devotion is nothing more than cowardice. You would not be here if you had anywhere else to go. How am I to survive without you, when I need feeding every few hours? Who is to milk Nagini?" "But you seem so much stronger, My Lord -" "Liar," breathed my fathers voice. "I am no stronger, and a few days alone would be enough to rob me of the little health I have regained under your clumsy care. Silence!"

Peter, who had been sputtering incoherently, fell silent at once.

After a few seconds I cleared my throat and asked ‘‘May I speak, my lord?‘‘. He wasn‘t to mess with at this point. I learned that the hard way as a child.

‘‘You may‘‘, he allowed me, and I once more cleared my throat.

‘‘It will not be a problem to get to Harry Potter once I am at Hogwarts. Wormtails concerns about the boy are for nothing.‘‘, I assured everyone in the room. The two men and the form my father currently posessed looked at me, and no one dared to correct me. ‘‘I will keep contact with my husband while at Hogwarts. He‘s the heir of the Jugons family, who were loyal to you. Everything regarding the boy will be brought to you.‘‘ I continued talking. ‘‘If you‘d want me to keep contact with someone else though I will gladly do so.‘‘

‘‘The Jugsons will do, Delphini.‘‘, my father assured me. I nodded too show that I understood.

‘‘You have work tomorrow, don‘t you?‘‘ I nodded once more.

‘‘Use your words.‘‘, he told me. So I said ‘‘Yes, I do.‘‘

‘‘You may proceed to go then.‘‘, my fathers cold voice spoke. ‘‘We wouldn‘t want you tired and worn-out at work. You still need to get us information after all.‘‘

I slid off the chair Peter has given me earlier and bowed down in front of the arm chair my father rested in.

I took his hand again and said ‘‘Thank you for your generosity, my Lord‘‘ before kissing his hand once more.

Peter tried to help me to get up afterwards, but I slapped his hands away. I don‘t want those touching me.

‘‘Bring her to the door, Crouch.‘‘ my father ordered the Junior. He did as comanded and walked behind me while I walked thowards the door. However, when I opened it I saw an old man, a mudblood standing in the door.

‘‘Father, we had someone listening.‘‘, I said while looking the old man in the eyes.

"Invite him inside, Wormtail. Where are your manners?" my father said. ‘‘You may go, Delphini.‘‘

The old man was led inside while I left the room with Crouch Junior.

While walking downstairs, Nagini passed us. Poor old man.

We proceeded towalk downstairs and when we arrived at the front door, Crouch Junior took my coat and went to help me put it on. I didn‘t say anything and just let him do it. I didn‘t have a problem with him so there‘s no reason to not let him do it. However, I did close it myself.

‘‘We‘ll surely see each other again.‘‘, I said to Junior and put my hand on the doorknob.

‘‘Until then, Mistress.‘‘, he said. I turned the doorknob and opened the door. I first thought if I should say something about me seeing his father at work, but I just let it be. I had no good reason to tease him.

It started raining again while I was with my father, so I pulled the hood of my cape further into my face once again and stepped outside. I heard the door close behind me and I took a few steps further away from the mansion before apparating home.

                                                            ***

I was pleasantly suprised that it was only 1:30am. In all honesty, I thought it would take longer. Not wanting to accidentally wake up my husband, Amancio, upstairs, I took off my heels and got readynfor bed in the guest bathroom downstairs. I took off my makeup and dress with the stockings. The dress and stockings I brought into the laundry room and put on one of my husbands shirts for sleeping. Finally, I tiptoed upstairs into our bathroom. Soft snores came from Amancio, which confirmed to me that he was asleep already. I carefully slipped underneath the sheets and cuddled up to my husband before noticing that something fluffy was laying next to Amancios head, right over mine. ‘‘Looks like you tried to replace me, Misty.‘‘,I whispered to my husbands cat before cuddling into his chest and falling asleep.

                                                            ***

Our enchanted clock woke me up from my sleep. I‘m glad Amancio enchanted it to birds chirping. Misty woke up from the chirping as well and jumped out of bed. I turned off the clock and went to get up. My husband wrapped his arms tightly around me while I was sleeping, so I had to wiggle myself out of his arms. Amancio murmured in his sleep but eventually turned over and continued sleeping. I smiled to myself and then stepped out of bed. I went to our closet and got my work clothes out before walking into te bathroom to get dressed and do my makeup and hair for the day.

I did my makeup first, some eyeliner and mascara on my upturned eyes, blush to define my high cheek bones and I coloured in my thin and arched eyebrows. Then I put some almost white powder under my eyebrows, the inner corner of my eye and the back of my nose. Lipstick I was gonna apply after breakfast.

I continued putting on my dress, a black, short-sleeved dress that went down to my knees with a white collar. The dress was tight around my waist to show off my figure. That is a standart woman of my class. I put on skin-coloured tights and checked once more if everything was in place.

My hair was next, but it wasn‘t anything special. I just brushed my hair and left it like that. It was naturally straight and I never had to do anything special to it for the office.

I proceeded with my accessories. My engagement and wedding rings were always around my finger, but I still had to put the Lestrange family ring away. So I did. My earrings were adorned by small pearl earrings. Fitting to my red nailpolish, I put a small, red ribbon around the collar of my dress. Now I was ready for the day.

I went downstairs to enchant our kitchen supplies to make breakfast: Pancakes with bacon and butter. As the supplies started doing their thing, I started making coffee and feeding our cat.

While Misty was eating and the coffe brew, I went upstairs to wake up my husband. Lucky him, he didn‘t need as long as I do in the morning. Upon entering our bedroom, I sat down on the edge of his side of the bed and brushed my left hand through his dark brown hair. ‘‘Amancio‘‘, I said with a smile on my face. He grumbled a little, but didn‘t do anything further. ‘‘Il mio amore.‘‘, I said and placed a few kisses across his nose. He scrunched his nose and thick, dark eyebrows and rolled his face into the pillow. ‘‘5 more minutes.‘‘, he grumbled into the pillow.

‘‘You slept enough, bello.‘‘, I said and then proceeded to plaster kisses on the back of his neck. ‘‘I‘ll blow raspberries if you don‘t get up by yourself.‘‘

Amancio chuckled and turned back around onto his back. His emerald green eyes gazed into mine and I couldn‘t help but grin at the sight of it. Due to his tanned skintone they looked so much more intense. He sat up straight and pressed a short kiss on my lips. ‘‘Good morning principessa‘‘, he said and grinned at me.

‘‘No need to call me princess, I‘m not 15 anymore.‘‘ I said with a small giggle. ‘‘You woke me up so I can call you a princess at least.‘‘, he defended himself. I laughed a little and got up from the edge of the bed. I went over to our closet and pulled his work clothes from his side of the closet. ‘‘Breakfast is done any minute, hurry up.‘‘, I told him and handed him his clothes. Amancio got up and took the clothes from me. ‘‘Also,‘‘, I started ‘‘we need to talk about our Lord.‘‘. Amancios face became serious and he nodded. He proceeded to leave the room while I walked downstairs into the kitchen. Our kitchen equipment was already cleaning itself, so I took the two plates with our breakfast and put them on our breakfast table. The coffee and mugs followed and I also put a bowl of blueberries on the table. I already poured some coffee into Amancios mug and added some milk, just how he likes it. My mug was filled with plain, black coffee. That‘s how I like it. Shortly after I sat down, Amancio came in the kitchen and sat down on the seat in front of me. His face was still serious and I could notice that he was thinking while getting ready since his tie wasn‘t like he normally does it. Before even grabbing his mug, he asked ‘‘What did he say?‘‘. I could her the anxiety in his voice, something really rare for him.

‘‘It‘s my duty to get him the boy. Pettigrew can‘t even nourish him.‘‘ I took a sip of my coffee. ‘‘I made the decision to build up his trust while at Hogwarts. It‘s easier to get him to my father that way. Until then, I will regularly send letters to you and your parents so you can update our Lord. It shouldn‘t be to hard to get in contact with Peter and Barty Junior for any of you.‘‘

You could see the relief in my husbands face.

‘‘We can definetly do that.‘‘, he said with a small smirk.

Amancio wasn‘t a death eater yet. He didn‘t posess the dark mark, and so did I. We were very young when my father fell from power. But his parents were loyal followers, and so was my mother before she was send to Azkaban.

‘‘This is the first time I‘m properly serving him, so I shouldn‘t mess this up.‘‘, he added and started drinking his coffee.

I chuckled a little at what he said. ‘‘Considering the fact that my father doesn‘t know you and my mother probably doesn‘t even know that I‘m married you should really try your best.‘‘

A short laugh came from my husband before we both started eating breakfast.

Amancio and I knew each other since I was ten. After my mother was imprissoned I went to live with my aunt Narcissa and uncle Lucius with my cousin Draco, and Amancios mother was a good friend of Narcissa. Our wedding was set up by my uncle and his father when we were 13. At first, we were against it but ended up deciding that we should make the best out of it and become friends at least. Turns out we‘re really compatible, so we started dating at 14. All went well and we got married three years ago, just a week after Amancio graduated from Hogwarts. We‘ve never regretted it.

Breakfast went along in a comfortable silence. While Amancio put away the dishes , a post owl arrived at our kitchen window and I let her in. As always, she gave us the Daily Prophet and two letters. One was for Amancio and me from his older sister Amara and the other one was from Dumbledore for me.

I already expected what was written in Dumbledores letter, I recieved a 5-page letter about what will be taught in which grade regarding Defense Against the Dark Arts. I also got a small instruction on the grading system. Internally, I thanked him for the grading chart. I never went to Hogwarts, so I don‘t know how the grades work.

Amancio opened the letter from Amara in that time and it was a letter from her and her husband, a picture drawn by our niece Selene and a picture of Selene with the plushed Kneazle we got her for her birthday. She turned 3 last weekend and was very excited about the plushed animal, which currently was her favourite creature of all time.

I looked at the picture of our niece in adoration, yet there was a weird feeling in my stomach. It might be because I already had two miscarriages. I was still happy for my sister-in-law, it‘s just that I miss both of my angel babies.

While I looked at the moving picture of Selene, Amancio got both of our briefcases from our workroom and put them on the table. He proceeded to pack lunch in two lunchboxes for us. Amancio packed them with leftovers from yesterday, rice and steak, even though he packed more in his than in mine. Not because he didn‘t want me to eat, but because I don‘t eat a lot. I have a certain body type and weight to maintain. He never failed to sneak a small candy heart, carefully wrapped in golden paper, in there though. I watched him doing that with a smild etched upon my face. He packed each lunchbag in the right briefcase and walked over to me.

‘‘Phini, we should get going.‘‘, he said and placed a kiss on my temple. I nodded and both of us grabbed our briefcases. We walked into the hallway and put on our shoes. It wasn‘t until now that I saw all the mud on my heels from yesterday. I put on my black, 5 inch work heels and took my red lipstick and hand mirror out of my briefcase to put it on.

‘‘One last kiss.‘‘, Amancio said before kissing me on my lips. He always kissed me before i applied my lipstick since he knew that it would smear all over his face. I gave into the kiss, and it lasted for a few seconds before we let go of each other. Amancio grinned while I put the lipstick on my lips and put everything I used for the application back into my briefcase. One last glance at the clock told me it was already 7:40am. We‘ll have to start work at 8.

Good thing the fireplace in our workroom was connected to the floo powder network. I removed the large fireplace fence and stepped into the fireplace first. Amancio handed me the bowl of floo powder and I grabbed a handful of it. ‘‘Ministry of Magic!‘‘, I shouted and threw the powder on the ground. I was surrounded by green flames for a while and I felt my body float before landing on my feet again and stepping out of one of the ministry fireplaces. There was a little bit of dust left on my clothes, so i took a few steps further away from the fireplace and dusted those off with my hands. My hsuband followed shortly after me and after he dusted his clothes off as well. We smiled at each other before we started walking to the elevators. I had to get into the fifth level while Amancio had to get to the second, the Department of Magical Law Enforcment. To be more specific, he worked in the department of improper use of magic and was responsible for the wizards who want to homeschool their children. We tuffed us in the already packed elevator and lucky for us, both of the buttons for our level were already pressed. Amancio was the first one to get off, and he smiled at me once more before disappearing in the crowd of people. My journey to my office continued and it got more empty with each level. There was only a handful of wizards and witches left when I got off to my department.

I walked straight into my office, where three of my colleagues were already getting ready for work for the day. ‘‘Good morning‘‘, I greeted them and sat down in my workspace. There were multiple letters on my desk, all of which were written in a foreign language. I had a folder with already answered letters, all sorted after months of this year. There were many more folders like thi in the bookshelf standing on one of the walls of the office.

Our small office was one of the most important ones in this whole department. Our office had the witches and wizards in that spoke the mot languages, ones that most employees don‘t speak. If we have exchanges with wizards that didn‘t speak english, it was send to us. Most of the letters I recieved from foreign countries were in greek and italian. The co-worker, Aluro was his name, sitting on the desk in front of mine spoke turkish and finnish. Hera who just came through the door, spoke the most languages out of the five of us in this office. She spoke a total of eight languages fluently, four of which were some of the hardest to learn.

My other three coworkers were Asteria, who spoke turkish and russian, Endymion, who was fluent in hebrew, romanian and dutch, and Serena, who spoke norwegian, serbian and hindi.

Due to being homeschooled I learned many more langauges, five in total. English is my native language, and spanish and french was spoken by many people in this department. Latin wasn‘t used for communication anymore, so only my fluent greek and italian is what saved me a spot in this certain office.

I put my parchment and quill on my desk and started working. First, I took onto the greek letters. It took me quite some time to first, write a translation for my boss, second, write a reply and third, then write a translation of my reply for my boss. I was down on two letters when our boss, Barty Crouch Senior, and his minon Percy Weasley came in the office. They did that every day, and he tended to stay in our office rather long.

‘‘Good morning.‘‘, he cheerfully greeted us. Most of us replied with the same, but Asteria and Endymion were so deep into translating that Asteria greeted him in russian and Endymion in dutch. That caused a small chuckle from most of us before we continued working.

I hated when he came over, but he did every morning. He had one of those creepy old man crushes on me. Barty probably thought I wouldn‘t notice, but it‘s blatantly obvious. One thing I‘ve inherited from my father were his looks, back when he still looked human. Combining that with the facade of a young, sophisticated, innocent and loving woman I am the perfect bait. As long as his weird crush is helping out my fathers causes, I won‘t exactly reject him. Good thing he thought that my husband and I aren‘t actually in love, but just set up to marry.

Talking about him, he walked over to my desk and looked me over the shoulder. ‘‘Good morning, Mr. Crouch.‘‘, I greeted him and turned my head to face him. It wasn‘t until then that I noticed that Percy was standing right behind him. ‘‘Mr. Weasley.‘‘, I said and smiled at him.

‘‘How is the work going?‘‘, Crouch asked me. The letter I was currently writing was in greek, so he couldn‘t read anything. ‘‘I already replied to the letter about alligning cauldron thickness with the greek ministry. Another one from greek was about the trade of muggle guards. I‘ve made some notes for the right department so they‘ll know what they need to do.‘‘ I took the translated letter with the notes and handed it to my boss for him to read. ‘‘I can‘t reply to it until the right department took care of it, and considering that I‘ll be gone by the end of this week this would need to happen fast.‘‘ It was Tuesday, and my last work day will be on Saturday. I‘ll have a free month to prepare classes before then going to Hogwarts. ‘‘I think we can prioritise that trade.‘‘, Crouch said and handed the letter and note to Percy.

‘‘I hope you‘ll find someone who speaks greek. Italian might be easier to find, but good luck with the greeks.‘‘, I jokingly said, just to keep my facade. Barty laughed about that, and his laugh was so utterly disgusting to me. Seeing the man who imprissoned my mother, one of the few people to not treat me as just an heir to my fathers legacy, displaying any form of happiness made me sick to my stomach. Yet I kept up my facade, his trust will give me the best information I could recieve.

‘‘It‘ll be hard to find someone to replace you, that‘s for sure.‘‘ he grinned at me, with a look no young woman would like to see from an old man.

‘‘I‘ll miss this office as well. Adapting somewhere else will be hard. But change is good for me, I believe that.‘‘ Everything that just came out of my mouth was an absolute lie, but I really didn‘t care.

‘‘I hope you really thought about becoming a teacher in that position. Defense Against the Dark Arts professors don‘t last longer than a year.‘‘ Good, I didn‘t intend to be there for longer than a year.

‘‘I‘m a skilled witch, nothing bad is going to happen to me.‘‘, I reassured himwith a small smile. He looked satisfied with what I said.

‘‘You surely are, Delphini.‘‘, he answered to that, still with his awfully happy smile on his face. ‘‘I should get going now.‘‘, he then said. I nodded and smiled at him. ‘‘Just put a note about the outcome on my desk with the letter, so I can answer them.‘‘, I said to Barty and his minion. Percy nodded, and Barty did the same (still with his horrible smile) before they turned and left our office. Crouch took one last look at me before closing the door.

Old creep.

[dex-ter-ous]

His Loyal Subject  [Evil Drye AU fanfic]

This is a little something i decided to write after being inspired by another brilliant recording by @dryeguy! 

here’s a link to the recording; have a listen before you read! this fanfic is written from the listener’s perspective, in a time prior to the scene in the recording. Do note that this is just my idea for the listener’s background, and it may not be canon to the story Drye has in mind.

[just like Drye did in the recording, i have neglected to assign a gender to the reader. so it’s up to your interpretation!]

Please enjoy! 

I sit with my body chained to a pole that stands rooted in the floor, keeping me from making any useful movements. I can move my legs in front of me, but that’s not going to help me escape a holding cell for criminals in custody. My nose burns with pain as blood dribbles down over my lips. I grunt quietly as I twist and wipe the blood on my shoulder. My whole body aches from being wrestled down and beaten into submission. I look like I've been trampled, and feel like it too.

Those guards handled me very roughly when they caught me trying to flee. I was with a small posse of spies, dangerously close to the palace. our mission was to take notes on the positions and schedule patterns of the King’s guards. I still don’t know how we were spotted, but when we were, I was the only one the guards managed to catch. It’s likely enough that one or more of my comrades was shot down on the run, but as far as I know, only I had the misfortune of being alive enough to be dragged in for interrogation.

I know this isn’t going to end well for me. Those spies and I are part of the kingdom’s infamous resistance; an alliance of commoners who seek to rebel against King Drye and his evil, oppressive rule over the country. The King is well aware of us, and his number one goal is to exterminate every last member of our alliance. It was obvious from the moment me and my fellow spies began to flee that we were part of the resistance. I’m a prisoner now, but not the kind that gets to be executed with no questions asked. No, i’m worth more than that. Since I am part of the resistance, it is believed that I have useful information for the King. For a criminal like me, interrogation is imminent.

“His majesty is coming to speak to you in person. If you want to die pleasantly, you’ll tell him everything you know about the resistance.” a guard warns me from just outside the cell door. I’m not surprised by the idea that i’m going to die here. But I am afraid… terrified, actually. I begin to realize that I may never see the light of the sun again, let alone step outside this cold, stone room. I’ll never see my friends, my family, or my country being liberated from the King’s villainous control. I’ll be taken out of existence before the sun sets. I’ve always been one to overthink in tense situations, and this is no exception. My weak heart is already thumping painfully in my chest by the time I hear the cell door creak open.

What I see is enough to make my blood run cold.

King Drye stands before me, in all his menacing glory. He’s far more frightening than I ever imagined he would be. He appears intimidatingly flawless in every way, from his dark skin to his tall and fit build. His clothes are the most regal i’ve ever had the honor, or rather the misfortune, of seeing in person. The bright amber heart broach on his chest must be worth a fortune all on its own. And his eyes... they’re even darker than the glare he gives me, which somehow forces me to directly return his gaze. My breath trembles as he steps inside and shuts the door behind him, all while keeping his stare locked on me. I want so badly to look away, but even such a small movement is impossible with how frightened I am.

“My guards tell me that they found you and three other men, spying on my castle from the east side.” he says, finally breaking eye contact as he reaches for a small table near the cell door. On it, there’s a revolver and six new bullets. His movements are slow and poised as he begins loading the weapon.

“While you were being captured, your comrades managed to flee into the woods.” He goes on, then pauses and looks up at me. There it is again, that calm yet predatory gaze that makes the air so much harder to breathe. “where, pray tell, do you think they’ve gone?”

Either I really don’t know, or i’m too terrified to think. Regardless, I don’t have the answer he wants to hear. I swallow hard before forcing myself to respond.

“I… I d-don’t know…”

“How could you not?” he immediately replies, raising his voice and continuing to load his gun. “All four of you work for the resistance, don’t you?”

“N-no! I mean- yes, but it’s not what you think! I’m not... l-like them…”

By god, what am I saying?! my mind shouts. I just blurted that out without even thinking. Am I really so desperate to preserve myself that i’m about to deny my alliance? I don’t even have time to consider the consequences and moral correctness of such a plan.

The King narrows his eyes at me, giving me the faintest hope of convincing him to spare me. I can’t help but flinch as he jams the chamber of the revolver into place with a sharp CLACK.

“... Explain.” he orders, staring me down.

I do my best to slow my trembling breaths as I realize the choice I am faced with. I can lie and swear allegiance to the King, for the slim chance of him letting me keep my life… or I can remain true to the resistance, eliminating any hope for survival.

My instinct of self preservation takes over, making my choice for me.

“The truth is, sire… i’m not really loyal to the resistance. I only m-made them believe that I was so that I could learn their plans, and I could tell you how to stop them! I swear that I am on your side, m-my King!”

He raises a brow at me, holding his weapon at ease.

“Is that so…?” He asks, his baritone voice lowering again. “Then why did you run from my guards when your posse was spotted? If you were truly on my side, would you not willingly allow yourself to be captured?”

“I only ran because I thought I would be killed! I didn’t know I would be given the chance to confess my alliance to you!” I protest, improvising my excuses. “Besides… I don’t yet know enough to help you annihilate them. I was going to come to you when I had more information”

“Surely you can at least give me their location…” He says, staring inquisitively down at me. I can hardly believe my luck... is he really buying it?!

“Well… I know where a few of their camps are, though they might be evacuating since i’ve been caught” I say. I only plan on telling him where their old, abandoned camps are. I wouldn’t take this charade so far as to openly endanger my comrades. Well… at least I hope it won’t come to that.

My hopeful thoughts are dashed as he suddenly steps closer, holding his revolver in both hands and taking aim directly at my head. It didn’t work, I think as my mind races. He’s going to kill me!

I whimper with panic, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

“P-please, my King, you must believe me! I beg of you!” I cry out in terror, my body trembling with fear and anticipation. This is it. I’m going to die. Slain by my sworn enemy in this cold, dehumanizing cell.

But he doesn’t fire… not yet. He just stands there in silence, locking eyes with me once again. I feel as if he’s looking into my mind and deciphering my lies. All I can do is wait helplessly for his verdict.

“... Do you solemnly swear... that everything you’ve said is true?” He asks, speaking slowly and firmly. “That you wish to betray the resistance and everything it stands for, so that you may serve your King? That your loyalty is to absolutely nobody… other than I?”

There’s still hope for me. I just have to give him the answers he wants to hear. I’m so terrified that I can hardly speak, but my desperation forces the words up my throat.

“... y-… yes…” I murmur, my voice breaking slightly.

More silence. I can practically see the gears turning in his head, processing my words and carefully deciding whether or not to let me live.

I can hardly believe what I see, but… he smiles. He gives me a dark, menacing grin, making my heart stop as it feels like the last precious seconds of my life are counting down.

His smile lingers for a moment that feels like forever, until he finally asks his last question.

“Do you swear on your life?”

My body is numb as I feel myself on the edge of death. There is nothing but me, King Drye, and just one thing left to say.

“... I do.”

No sooner than the words leave my mouth, he pulls the trigger.

The sound is so loud that I cannot hear my own scream of terror. My eyes clench shut, and i’m sure that I am dead. There should be no feeling in my empty body.

Yet… there is. I can feel the hot sting on my arm where his bullet grazed me. In doing so, he broke a single link in the chains around me. My eyes flutter open again as I feel my restrains loosen and slump to the floor.

I stare down at them in disbelief.

I am alive.

I turn my gaze back up to the King. Mere seconds after being so sure that I had met death itself, i’m not too afraid to do so. That smile hasn’t left his face, but there’s a new, expectant look in his eyes. He doesn’t even have to order me; somehow, I can tell exactly what he wants.

I fold my legs beneath me and bow so low that my chest nearly touches the stone floor. My fingers rest only an inch from his feet as I lower my head to the backs of my hands.

“I solemnly swear... on my life, my King… that my only wish is to be your-...” I begin to say, choking on my words as my fear of him shrouds my relief.

“My what…?” he beckons my words in an almost mocking tone.

“... your loyal subject.”

Many months have passed, and I still can hardly believe how well that worked.

Really well, I mean. Not only was I allowed to live, but my life has changed completely.

After I gave King Drye directions to the abandoned camps, I expected him to throw me out. But instead, he invited me to stay for the night, then another, then another, then another… during that time, I suppose he grew fond of me. eventually, he said he would like it if I stayed with him from then on. I was too afraid to say no. The King never reacts well to even small forms of defiance. Even though I missed my friends and worried for my comrades, I accepted his invitation.

I get to sleep in a fancy room, wear nice clothes, dine at his table, and follow the King everywhere he goes. No matter where it is or what he’s doing, he always takes me with him, and I really don’t understand why. He even went so far as to invite -- no, to expect -- me to attend one of his ballroom parties. Much to my surprise, the King asked me to dance with him that night. Of course, I couldn't refuse. Despite the obvious imbalance in our dancing skills, he seemed very pleased to share those slow, swaying moments with me.

But it’s not as it may seem… I know he doesn’t harbor any romantic feelings for me. He’s a King, for pete's sake. He can’t be seen like that with a simpleton such as myself. Though he often shows me subtle affection and kindness, I know better than to think I measure up as a suitable lover. All things considered, the best word for what I am to him is “pet”. I’m always by his side, doing as he says in exchange for care and tenderness. Of course i’m still considered a person, but seen as a pet nonetheless.

I’d be lying if I said I don’t enjoy being here. Even if I live in a constant state of dread and caution, i’m treated with almost regal care. Between me and other palace personnel, nobody takes me seriously, but nobody messes with me either; they’re likely just afraid of what the King would do to them for showing me disrespect. But of all things, the best part has to be the books. King Drye personally sees to it that I always have new novels at my fingertips. Reading has always been my favorite activity, but books are so hard to afford back home. With the King, I can have as many as I want. It seems that he enjoys spoiling me. I have a lot to be grateful for here. Under normal circumstances, this new life of mine would be a dream come true.

But these aren’t normal circumstances. I’m not in one of those delightful tales where a dashing and generous man of royalty sweeps a commoner of their feet and treats them to a life of love and luxury.

He’s still the evil King he was the day I met him. Still the dangerous menace that is still fighting to destroy the resistance. Every single day, i’m reminded of who he really is. I sit quietly beside him as I hear him giving orders to his soldiers, spelling out the cruel ways he keeps control over the kingdom. I even have to attend executions with him, which are held unfortunately often. Long after the heads fall and lives are lost, his laughter still echoes in my head, making me ever so afraid to be near him. If he hadn’t spared my life on the day we met, I know that same laugh would have followed my death. I am constantly tormented and confused by the two sides of him; the kind and charming man he presents to me every day, or the cruel bastard wrecking tyranny as I follow silently behind. I’ll be a damned fool the day I forget that I am not in a fairytale… i’m in a prison.

But that’s not the only matter that keeps me awake at night. I still think of the resistance and everyone in it, and how I betrayed them. By now, they must hate me as much as they hate the king. I was supposed to die a fighter, not survive a coward.

But is what I did really cowardice? I did it to preserve myself, which is awfully important. One life is all I have, after all. Besides, this is all just a charade. I’m not really loyal to the king, at least not in my head. Maybe someday i’ll escape from here, and then I can warn the resistance of the King’s plans. As soon as I get the chance. Right… that’s what i’ll do. I just have to wait for the right time.

Until then, I always have my books to distract my troubled mind. That’s the best part of reading; it lets me escape my own reality for hours at a time, so that I don’t always have to face my tormenting thoughts. The more I read, the less time I spend in this luxurious hell. Do I even have to plan an escape back to my home? I can get by here, as long as I have my books to help me ignore the mess i’ve gotten myself into.

Oh god… I really am a coward, aren’t i?

[janiedean]

Just recently saw the post about Iranians Banning u.s. citizens from entering a country and it made me wonder, is the u.s. government the worst government in the world? Yes I understand other governments are bad and probably do the same thing as the US government but do you think the US government is the worst?

uhhhhhhhhhhhhh

no.

I mean, I swear to god I’m not trying to sound like an asshole, but while I think the US isn’t even in the top twenty countries I’d like to live in for a lot of reasons and its current government isn’t anything I like.... no?

I mean, the US, for better or worse:

are a democracy (YES it is)

have ON PAPER equal rights for everyone (the fact that the law isn’t respected doesn’t mean that ON PAPER it’s not a thing)

have freedom of speech (I mean, FIRST amendment???)

you can vote (AS BEFORE)

in theory you’re not discriminated when it comes to getting a job

no one can get killed for what they think or what they are (ie no one gets legally murdered or tortured just because they’re lgbt or atheist)

american citizens can travel everywhere in the world (except iran I guess but admittedly I can’t blame them)

american citizens are privileged in a lot of places just on account of being american

military service is voluntary

like, you wanna compare it with eritrea?

I’m gonna c/p a few choice parts from a washington post article about what a UN commission declared on that specific government that sums it perfectly:

Detailing "systematic, widespread and gross human rights violations," the U.N. commission of inquiry argued that Eritrea was operating a totalitarian government with no accountability and no rule of law.

"The commission also finds that the violations in the areas of extrajudicial executions, torture (including sexual torture), national service and forced labor may constitute crimes against humanity," the report said.

Since (its independence from Ethiopia after thirty years of civil war), however, President Isaias Afwerki has clamped down and allowed no room for an opposition. The U.N. report described a Stasi-like police state that leaves Eritreans in constant fear that they are being monitored.

“When I am in Eritrea, I feel that I cannot even think because I am afraid that people can read my thoughts and I am scared," one witness told the U.N. inquiry.

The system leads to arbitrary arrests and detention, with torture and even enforced disappearances a part of life in Eritrea, the U.N. probe found, and even those who commit no perceived crime often end up in arduous and indefinite national service that may amount to forced labor.

Those who attempt to flee the country are considered "traitors," and there is a shoot-to-kill policy on the border, the report said.

The Eritrean government refused to allow the United Nations access to the country to investigate, so the U.N. team interviewed more than 550 witnesses in third countries and accepted 160 written submissions. Many approached by the United Nations declined to give testimony, even anonymously, citing a justifiable fear of reprisal.

In 2014, for instance Human Rights Watch called Eritrea "among the most closed countries in the world" and pointed to "indefinite military service, torture, arbitrary detention, and severe restrictions on freedoms of expression, association, and religion."

Reporters Without Borders has repeatedly ranked it as the worst country in the world for press freedom -- worse even than North Korea.

"As somebody who studies authoritarian regimes elsewhere in Africa, the Eritrean regime's control over its population is qualitatively different than other African states," Dorman said, before pointing to features such as the scale of Eritrea's intelligence service and the practice of punishing entire families for the crimes of one member.

Eritreans make up a large share of the migrants crossing the Mediterranean in flimsy boats to seek asylum in Europe: More than 22 percent of those who made the journey in 2014 were from the country, according to the U.N. High Commissioner for Refugees, second only to Syrians. They flee not because of a civil war like that in Syria, but because of the immense restrictions the Eritrean state puts on their lives. As one escaped Eritrean put it, life there is a "psychological prison."

that’s just eritrea. if we had to discuss all the totalitarian regimes in the world (look up zimbabwe for one), or like idk TURKEY where since erdogan definitely lost it I’m sure most of the journalists/uni teachers around are in jail and that’s not even the worst, or all the countries where being lgbt will get you killed, or where being atheist will get you killed, or where there’s an actual slave trade (look up mauritania) and so on, we’d end up a week from now.

no, the US are far from the worst government or country in the world and the fact that now you have a fairly ridiculous/bad right wing government (btw, israel’s rn isn’t that much different if we’re counting right wing nuts and I’m not even discussing putin) doesn’t make it the US the worst country in the world or the worst government in the world.

it makes the US still largely improvable as a place to live and that’s another can of worms, but until someone puts you in jail for what you write in a newspaper and you can’t vote anymore, your government is still going to be far better than half of the world’s, and that’s me being nice because it could be more than that. /two cents

[mayacatmaster]

Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else's opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation. ~Qscar Wilde *** *** ***

Just because you see peoples eye's open doesn't mean they and the awake. Most are walking around existing in a comatose sheepish mind state and the sad part is...

they don’t even know it…..

It is the responsible thing to every awakened

to help others remember to Remember.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Via and thanks “Mina Milos”:

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Surely, first is do by yourself, from yourself...Otherwise….:

Your whole idea about yourself and your world is borrowed.

Borrowed from those who have no idea of who they are themselves.

Borrowed from those who can’t alignment with their “Source”(True Self; Tao) and as an alignment-deliberate-creator.

Borrowed from those who can’t Mirror the most simplest “Cosmic Principle”(Tao; Source; Ma at; Brahma) in every area /topic and as an alignment-deliberate-creator.

*** *** ***

Mindset. 

It's all about mindset. 

From the moment you wake up, to the moment you rest your head at night. Everything is up to you. 

Your emotions, your thoughts, your perceptions, your reactions. 

Every moment. 

*** *** ***

Looking For Truth?

Observe People's Habitual Behavior

Patterns/Cycles. The Truth Is In Their

Patterns And Cycles. Not So Much Their Words.

*** *** ***

The Mind Is A Powerful Force.

It Can Enslave Us Or Empower Us.

It Can Plunge Us Into The Depths Of Misery Or Take Us To The Heights Of Ecstasy. Learn To Use The Power Wisely.

*** *** ***

And If you judge use any kind of kiss dark tyrant-ruler’s-ass-standard you will never understand. If you understand you will never judge. *** *** *** But unfortunately this world…:  Rare is religion/moral/education/political/media/country-social-family-belief-system don’t use any kind of kiss dark tyrant-ruler’s-ass-standard. *** *** *** Seek To Be Worth Knowing Rather Than Be Well Known.  *** *** *** I always remind myself it is better than wearing a blindfold, ignorant those preach/teach can’t help me as alignment-deliberate-creator. No matter of this outer world how to preach/teach, brainwash, indoctrinated your mindset. If they can’t pass through myself inquiry, question, experiment and get sweet-fruits. *** *** *** Lining up makes YOU INVINCIBLE, undeniably powerful. THE ENERGY THAT creates worlds IS FLOWING THROUGH YOU! -Abraham *** *** *** The most attractive, charismatic people in the world are those who are in alignment with Who they Are. That what people try to describe as they are talking about that Inner Beauty. It s alignment that is at the core of that, you see. ~ABRAHAM *** *** *** If you can’t alignment with your Source and as alignment-deliberate-creator. *** *** *** If you can’t Trust that the power that moves the stars/moon/sun in the heavens is taking you on a journey where the only destination IS love, self expression, joy, and an abundant experience of life. *** *** *** And If you can’t ...: Follow the force that is guiding the whole universe is in you.  Pledge allegiance to your "Source"(God; True Self; Tao; Logos). *** *** *** And you just seek as one ‘white sheep”(saints; nice guy; blind obey children) who only wanted the approval of “another “(parents; husband; Pope; gurus; government…). *** *** ***

It's Not That You Don't Like Yourself.

It's That You Aren't Allowing Yourself To Be Yourself.

~Abraham-Hicks

*** *** *** Surely…: They Want You To Be Silent They Want You To Be Submissive, To Do Whatever They Say. Never Question Authority & Always Obey Fuck That You Are No One's Robot, Think For Yourself, Never Give In. Be Vigilant With Your Resistance. Educate & Empower Others To Do The Same. *** *** *** Otherwise…: You know everything about yourself and you've picked up all these rules and requirements from everywhere, and none of them even go together - they're all in conflict with each other - but you still take them all personally and try to do them all; you try to stand on your head in so many different ways to be approved of, when that appreciation and love and (if you want to call it) approval has been there for you every moment of every day, you just have to look in that direction. And you can't look in that direction and in that direction at the same time. ~Abraham *** *** *** And One kind only can jump through a hoop for the "ruler"（boss; parents; government; husband; gurus）and can’t help people as alignment-deliberate-creator is 100% brainwash. *** *** *** Then….: You will just repeated accepted the work-eat-entertainment-sleep-kiss ass-cycle and have no desire to have a deeper understanding of life.  *** *** *** Indeed…: What fascinates fascinates me is that...  Hardly anyone is wondering what we're doing on this planet.  Most people have accepted the work-eat-entertainment-sleep-kiss ass-cycle and have no desire to have a deeper understanding of life. *** *** *** And…: If You Knew It Was For Sure, Wouldn't You Be Having More Fun Along The Way? ~Abraham Hicks Well, It's For Sure! It's For Sure! *** *** *** Clarity!  That Is The Biggest Prize You Are Looking For. To Feel Clear And Sure And Stable—That Is Really What You Desire. ~Abraham Hicks *** *** *** I consider I am the giant stone statue of Easter Island. As seer…. Observing the heavens and the earth, the sun and the moon, the planet, human beings, billions of years. *** *** *** And…: Between egoism and "Source"(Tao; True Self); Between man-made-rules and "Source"(Tao; True Self); Between desires and "Source"(Tao; True Self); Between your-origin-face and "Source"(Tao; True Self); *** *** *** Between your heart, my heart and another heart; *** No matter what... You learn more about someone at the end of a relationship than at the end beginning of it. *** *** *** Life is "Tao"(True Self；Brahman) back to itself. I observed the sun, moon, stars orbit operation life. *** *** *** Because…: "Nature"(Tao；Ma-at；Logos; Source) never did betray the heart that loved her. *** *** *** So…: Follow the force that is guiding the whole universe is in you.  Pledge allegiance to your "Source"(God; True Self; Tao; Logos),  everything is done! ~Huangdi Yinfujing 「觀天之道，執天之行，盡矣！」: 黃帝陰符經； *** *** *** You are never along or helpless.  The force that is guiding the whole universe is in you too! *** *** *** Those who flow as "Life"(Tao; True Self; Source) flows know they need no other force. ~Lao tzu *** *** *** You have all the intelligence within you. TRUST, ALLOW and only listen to your own HEART! *** *** *** Use your own light and return to the Source of "Light"(Tao; True Self; Wisdom of Universal). This is called practicing eternity. ~Lao Tzu *** *** *** Always listen to your own heart, even if it is against what your family, society, culture of religion is telling you! *** *** *** If you see all the star swirls with the Big-Dipper, Hundreds of millions of years and hundreds of millions of years,  No matter it is ancient and modern or east or west. *** *** *** It is through watching the "Cycles" of Nature that we more fully understand the cycles of our own lives. *** *** *** Four things cannot be long hidden; the sun, the moon, the Big-Dipper and the “Truth”(True Self; Tao; Logos; Ma-at; Dharma; Source).  *** *** *** Do you know what the dominate reason for anyone who has a worthiness issue is ? They have plenty of negative emotion and they're willing to put up with it. Source is rooting for them, and they are rooting against themselves. ~Abraham *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** Via and thanks “Abraham-Hicks: Inspirational Quotes” *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** Through the modern world may know a million secrets, the ancient world knew "One"(Source; Tao; Ma-at; True Self; Brahma) - and that was greater than the million; for the million secrets breed death, disaster, sorrow, selfishness, lust, and avarice, but the "One"(Source; Tao; Ma-at; True Self; Brahma) secret confers life, light, and truth. ~Manly P. Hall *** *** *** What is that secret? *** *** *** When traversing the vast sea of loneliness, "Oneness"(Source; Tao；True Self；God) is the only true safe harbor, compass, lighthouses, guide, eternal guiding principles. *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** In short there is nothing else anywhere, there is not a set of rules, there is not a stack of books, there are not teachers, there are not hidden documents, there is nothing outside of you that can come anywhere close to the Guidance that comes forth from within you. ~Abraham-Hicks, Great Awakening and Blending, AB–6, 1988 簡而言之,沒有任何其他地方,沒有任何一組規則,沒有任何一堆書,沒有任何一個老師,沒有任何隱藏的文檔,沒有什麼在你自性光明之外的"外法；外物；外人"，可以來接近那~~~出自你內在"真正自己"(大道；上主)自性光明的指引嚮導。 *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** The reason that you ever feel any emotion at all is because Source is right there thinking about the same thing at the same time with you. So when you are in sync with the thought Source thinks about it, you feel good. But when you are out of sync with what Source thinks about it, you feel bad. ~Abraham August 23, 2014 Denver, CO *** *** *** Once you understand your own Emotional Guidance System, you will never again be confused about where you are in relationship to where you want to be. Also, you will feel, with each thought that you offer, whether you are moving closer to, or further from, your desired outcome. If you are using any other influence as your Source of Guidance, you will get lost and go off track, for no others understand, as you do, the distance between where you are and where you want to be. ~Abraham *** *** *** The Source within is thinking about the same thing that you're thinking about and has a very powerful opinion about the same thing that you're thinking about. And your emotions are letting you know whether the opinion, whether the KNOWING of the Source within you, meshes with, or is in discord with, the thought you are thinking. ~Abraham-Hicks *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** Thank for “Abraham-Hicks” *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** You get what you expect, have you noticed that?  And so, how have you been programmed to expect?  *** *** *** No matter it’s use the name of “God”, Use the name of man-made-moral, Use the name of country,  Use the name of family,  Use the name of egoism,  *** *** *** Between your “God” and my “God”, kills each others,  Between your man-made-moral and my man-made-moral, kills each others,  Between your country and my country, kills each others,  Between your family and my family, kills each others,  Between your body and my body , kills each others,  *** *** *** And so, how have you been programmed to expect?  *** *** *** Because you already have been teach, …: Obey and you can't question it, self-inquiry it,...no matter what, just Kiss-any kind of Dark Tyranny Ruler’s-Ass. *** *** *** Humankind is the only virus cursed to live with the horrifying knowledge of its host's fragile mortality. *** *** *** And ~~~! The host kills the virus, or the virus kill the host. *** *** *** So, now you realized this…: Someone said:” Why just be a natural, real self became so difficult? Why is that so hard?”;  *** Someone said:” Why my fate and my life itself only meaning and highest value …: Are only built to Kiss-any kind of Dark Tyranny Ruler’s-Ass.  *** *** *** No matter it’s in a world, a country, a home, a mind-body. *** *** *** Because cultural-dogma-viral-infection-programmed-mind-system still running in your around… ><!!! *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** 《Chuang Tzu:Horse's Hoofs -莊子：馬蹄 》 *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** Horses can with their hoofs tread on the hoarfrost and snow, and with their hair withstand the wind and cold; they feed on the grass and drink water; they prance with their legs and leap: this is the true nature of horses. Though there were made for them grand towers and large dormitories, they would prefer not to use them.  馬，蹄可以踐霜雪，毛可以禦風寒，齕草飲水，翹足而陸。此馬之真性也。雖有義臺、路寢，無所用之。 *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** But when Bo-Le (arose and) said, 'I know well how to use man-made-law-standard manage horses tame them into so call good enough horses,' (men proceeded) to singe and mark them, to clip their hair, to pare their hoofs, to halter their heads, to bridle them and hobble them, and to confine them in stables and corrals. (When subjected to this treatment), two or three in every ten of them died. (Men proceeded further) to subject them to hunger and thirst, to gallop them and race them, and to make them go together in regular man-made-law -order. In front were the evils of the bit and ornamented breast-bands, and behind were the terrors of the whip and switch. (When so treated), more than half of them died.  及至伯樂，曰：「我善治馬。」燒之剔之，刻之雒之，連之以羈馽，編之以皁棧，馬之死者十二三矣；飢之渴之，馳之驟之，整之齊之，前有橛飾之患，而後有鞭筴之威，而馬之死者已過半矣。 @@@ *** @@@ *** @@@ *** @@@ Woman Walks Ahead (2018) *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** Q:” So… Miss. Weldon…: How came you scared horses?”; *** *** *** A:” I get locked in a stables. My dad’s best horse, Sudan. I was 8 years olds. My father locked me in his purpose. Since then I never ride a horse.”; *** *** *** Q:” Why would he do that for you? *** *** *** A:” He decide I need told to obey. Tame like a horse. Because I was behaving not like lady. Because the way I wipe my mouth. ☆ ☆ ☆ I decide did the change. I am trying not care what people think me, that why I’m out here myself along going to this wilderness. *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** Woman Walks Ahead is a 2017 American biographical drama film directed by Susanna White and written by Steven Knight. The film is the story of Caroline Weldon (Jessica Chastain), a portrait painter who travels from New York to Dakota to paint a portrait of Sitting Bull (Michael Greyeyes) in 1890.  *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** So, now you realized this…: ***  Hey, no matter what country, religion, moral, education-system, parents, teachers, elders, TV, radios, newspaper, medias…: Every time you “teach”(brainwash; indoctrinate) you children, just obey and you can’t question & self-inquiry it, ….: No matter what, just obey in the ways you have been programmed, …: *** *** *** Obey, just as a good Sheep, a white sheep, in your country, your family, your school, your work…! *** ** And, Your fate and the only meaning and highest value of life …: Are only built to Kiss-dark tyranny rulers-Ass. *** *** *** Adolph, here, calling from the past, I just love the way you're promoting my ideas! *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** And … Sometimes I wonder what it's like to be normal??? If my heart can make sure it not spider chaos the fly. *** *** *** What is normal for the spider is chaos for the fly. ~Morticia Addams *** *** *** If my heart can make sure my whole life can don’t became a lie, by so call ‘normal’. *** *** *** If my heart can make sure...so call normal is not just an illusion. *** *** *** No matter of it’s in morality, religion, political, education or country, family, personal-belief-system….! *** *** *** Because…: In the end, we'll all become stories. But in this-nowhere-time-space , What will be yours ? *** *** *** After you die you spend a lot of time reviewing your life, so be sure to make it interesting. *** *** *** Specially when…: Nation of sheep.  Ruled By Wolves & Tiger.  Owned By pigs. And I follow orders like a dog. It's what made me a "man"(woman; children). *** *** *** 【Ruler】: Between th frown of the tiger and smile of the wolf the flock is perished; the ruler claims himself as kind of the law, and the priest as the representative of “God”(religion-morality-belief-system), and between these two, the bodies are destroyed and souls wither into nothing. ~Gibran *** *** ***

She is you, Shiva is Shakti, Shakti is Shiva.

*** *** ***

[wlreports-blog]

Sanjay Kumar, CEO & MD, Elior India - India's Transformational Leaders 2019

Sanjay Kumar, CEO & MD, Elior India - India's Transformational Leaders 2019

Over the years, my experience across different industry sectors such as Consumer Durables, Oil and Gas, Technology and Food services has tremendously impacted the decisions I make today.

  My decision-making process has been largely influenced by a few key elements. To begin with, one must identify the type of the market, then go on to pinpoint the areas of operation in said market. Developing an understanding of the working of the organisation and its culture is vital. Next, a strategy should be created for marketing the product or service. One must also develop a keen understanding of the target audience, what they require, and then come up with a clear cut procedure on how to sell the product while keeping in mind the resource needs for both people and capital. An accomplishment that you consider to be the most significant in your career? My career revolves around driving two key business factors- turning around existing businesses, and setting up new businesses. Personally, I think convincing the Elior board to invest in India, and then being able to fully set up the business in India, is one of my proudest achievements. Since this was Elior’s first entry into India, I had to identify suitable acquisition targets. Most of these acquisitions were completed as scheduled and integration was planned as per the submissions to the shareholders. Over the next 2 years, the business objectives required for the market entry was achieved. This is quite rare since it is difficult for large companies to achieve their market entry objectives in India due to the existence of various complexities. Therefore, given the difficult nature of the market, it was quite challenging to convince a 7 billion dollar French conglomerate company to invest in India through acquisition driven strategies, and then grow the business to meet the shareholders’ objectives and deliver the returns expected by them. How do you integrate corporate philanthropy or corporate social responsibility as a part of your business strategies? The Elior Group and I believe that corporate social responsibility in our business should be sustainable as well as a contributing factor to the society and the environment that we operate in. The key drivers for us in India has been to reduce food wastage and to ensure that the practices we follow in the process of procurement and production are the best in the country. While our peers in the industry follow a different strategy when it comes to procuring agricultural produce, at Elior we follow sustainable methods to gather agricultural produce. In regard to reducing food wastage, we pride ourselves in having the technology and processes to monitor as well as consistently predict consumption levels that help reduce the wastage created due to improper planning and forecasting.

Sanjay Kumar, CEO & MD, Elior India - India's Transformational Leaders 2019 What has been your driving force or philosophy in life? To give everything that you do, your best. So, if something unexpected happens, you won’t have to look back or think “I could have tried harder.” What are the other philanthropic works you are involved in? On a personal level, I support a very commendable and charitable organisation called Sarva Shiksha Abhiyan. It is involved with the education of poor children in the tribal areas of Madhya Pradesh and Rajasthan. How do you define success and how do you measure up to your own definition? Success is the ability to cope with failure. I try to measure up to this by living through my failures just as I have been able to celebrate my successes. We are constantly making things better faster smarter and less expensive. In other words, we strive to do more with less. Tell us about a recent project or solution that you have made that is smarter and faster or less expensive. There are several initiatives being implemented in our enterprise in relevance to that category. Our entire human resource and attendance tracking system for four thousand employees are on a biometric system which is linked to a human resource management system. This allows us to process payroll without any human intervention or manual attendance keeping. The second initiative that we have introduced is the first of its kind in the food services industry.  We have developed our very own technology platform that allows our guests to view the menus online, make selections and place their orders. This has reduced confusion and order misplacements drastically. It also helps us understand consumer tastes and preferences better; allowing us to tailor our menus to suit the palate of different consumers and thereby reduce wastage. Through this technology, we have been able to predict the amount of consumption more accurately. We can also create diverse menus digitally, which has enabled consistency in the recipes we create. This will also ensure that consumers get the value for the price they pay. In addition, this technology is linked to our backend inventory management system that enables us to reduce the likelihood of perishable items that we hold in the inventory. What is the most significant aspect of leadership? I think that the ability to deal with failure is the most important aspect for any leader. A leader has to accept that they cannot be right all the time. Your perception of an empowered society, how far can your organisation contribute to the same? An empowered society, to me, is one that recognises the rights of all its members. I think there is an evolution underway currently in the foodservice industry. An evolution in which more importance and recognition is being given to the rights of consumers, the rights of service providers and, most importantly, the rights to all those who help produce the raw materials. Farmers need to be respected and understood as a crucial part of the food production industry. They act as sustenance to the well-being of all the other aspects within the industry. One thing that you want to change and one thing you want to retain in your industry The one thing I would want to change in the industry is its attitude towards safety, which lacks in comparison to most other developing and developed markets. The one thing I would wish to retain is the importance we give to fresh food. In India, we love to eat our food fresh. So, food continues to be made and consumed on the same day which drastically reduces our dependence on frozen food in comparison to the western world. One thing you have to let go as an entrepreneur or leader? Ans: The thought that “I have the ability to control all the events around me.” Whom do you owe your success to? Well, there is a list of leaders whom I looked up to right from the beginning. To name a few-  S.L Ghoklani, former managing director of Eureka Forbes, is somebody who I learned a lot from.  Next would be Shell, who has an inspirational leader called Bruce Rosengarten. Then, there is Harry Brecklemans, who was one of my supervisors in a strategy driven endeavour I pursued in the recent past. I dedicate my growth as a leader to Phillipe Salle, who was the previous CEO of Altran. I also owe it to my current supervisor – Phillipe Guillemot, Elior Group CEO whose extraordinary leadership in following and ensuring that the processes, the focus, and the governance is in line with the best organisations of the world. The best thing about your job Every day is different. A message from you to all the future entrepreneur and leaders The earlier you prepare for failure, the better are your chances of success.   About Sanjay Kumar MD and CEO of Elior India, a subsidiary of France based Elior Group and India’s largest standalone food services company.

With over 4000 employees, Elior India serves over 1.5 lakhs freshly prepared meals every day to Fortune 500 and Multinational companies. The company, under Sanjay’s leadership, has won 3 major awards – Most Innovative Product/Service of the Year by Indo-French Business Awards 2018, The Extraordinaire Brand by Brand Vision Summit, and Best Caterer of the Year by Asia Food Congress & Awards 2019. Sanjay is responsible for Elior’s entrance into the Indian market. He led the high-profile acquisition of Megabite Food Services and CRCL. His core expertise is in setting up new businesses and pushing multinational corporation market entries or expansions in India. In 6 years, he has completed 7 acquisitions, which includes a mix of asset deals, joint ventures, and share purchases in existing entities. With an MBA in Marketing from IRMA, Sanjay started his career as a Management Trainee at Marico Industries Ltd., where he designed a commodity procurement system to save on sourcing costs. Prior to joining Elior, he was the MD and CEO of Altran Companies, India. He was responsible for growing the company, 4 successful acquisitions and for turning around the company from a loss-making enterprise to being one of the three most profitable companies within the group. Prior to Altran, Sanjay was a part of the Royal Dutch Shell Group for over 18 years. He was also a member of the Global Leadership Team that reported to the CEO and board of Royal Dutch Shell. Read the full article

[bmvistas2019-blog]

Mango Man banega Crorepati!

From a street vendor to a multi crore company: Bhavesh Bhatia's story

Bhavesh Bhatia was not born blind, but had little vision while growing up. Born with retina muscular deterioration, he always knew that his sight would only get worse with time. But when, at 23, his eyes finally decided to give up on him, no amount of preparation could have predicted the gloom that was to come.

He was working as a hotel manager and scrambling to save money for his mother’s treatment, who was suffering from cancer. His desperation to save his mother stemmed from more than filial love. She was the backbone of his existence, providing the support he so badly needed to navigate life with his disability.

Bhavesh, 45, recalls, “I used to be badly bullied in school. One day I came home and told her that I wouldn’t go back from the next day. Everyone ganged up to taunt me with chants of ‘Blind boy, blind boy.’ Instead of forcing me, or worse giving in to my demands, she gently stroked my hair and told me that the boys were not cruel. They want to be my friend, but are thrown by how different I am. She told me that bullying was their way of getting my attention. I had a hard time believing her but did as she told me to. Next day instead of treating with them with the hostility they deserved, I approached my bullies with an offer of friendship. We became friends for life.”

He continues, “It is this early life lesson that has been my guiding principle in business as well. My poverty and disability have created insurmountable challenges for me. But her wisdom has lead me to make the right decisions.”

So, when faced with losing his mother, losing his eyesight too was a devastating blow. He was fired from his job. His father had already extinguished all their savings on his mother’s treatment. Without a job, and no employment prospects to boot, they couldn’t afford to give her the care she needed. She passed away soon after.

“I was bereft without her,” says Bhavesh. “She was not very educated herself, but worked tirelessly to make sure that I was. I could not read the blackboard. She would pore over my lessons with me for hours- a practice she continued till my post-graduation.” Bhavesh wanted to make something worthwhile of himself for her. That she would pass away when he was just getting started felt like the world’s greatest injustice.

Though the loss of his mother, his eyesight and his job wracked him with grief, he found solace in what Bhavesh says is, ‘The best advice I’ve ever received,’ given, unsurprisingly, by his mother. “She told me ‘So what if you cannot see the world? Do something so that the World will see you.’ ”Instead of wallowing in self-pity, Bhavesh set off in search of that elusive ‘something’ which would make the world see him.

That thing was not hard to find. “Since childhood I was interested in creating things with my hands. I used to make kites, experiment with clay, shape toys and figurines, etc. I decided to dabble with candle making because it allowed me to harness my sense of shape and smell. But mostly because I am, and always have been, attracted towards Light,” says Bhavesh.

With no resources, except for a burning passion, Bhavesh had little idea on how to get started. “I took training from National Association for the Blind (Mumbai) in 1999. Over there they taught me how to make plain candle,” he recounts. “I wanted to play around with colours, scents and shapes, but dyes and scents were beyond my budget.” So he would make candles all night long and sell them from a cart, standing at a corner of his local market in Mahabaleshwar. “The cart belonged to a friend and he let me use it for rupees fifty a day. Every day I would set aside twenty five rupees to buy my supplies for the next haul.” It was a lonely and backbreaking mode of survival. “But at least I was doing what I loved,” says Bhavesh, firmly repudiating any expressions of sympathy

Then one day, out of the blue, things started looking up. It began when a lady came by his cart to purchase candles. He was struck by her gentle manner and lively laughter .They struck up a friendship on the spot, conversing for hours. I would say it was love at first sight. But, sans the sight, the description doesn't hold water. It was a more a connection between kindred souls.

Her name was Neeta and Bhavesh became determined to marry her. She felt the same way, returning to his cart every day to talk and reminisce about their life together. Neeta faced backlash from her home for her decision to marry a penniless, blind candle maker. But she was firm and the two soon embarked on a shared life, living in his small home in the beautiful hill station town of Mahabaleshwar.

Neeta was a relentless optimist. Since he could not afford to buy new containers, Bhavesh used to melt the wax in the same utensils that he cooked food in. He worried that this would offend his wife. But she laughed his concerns off, procured a two wheeler so she could ferry her husband around town selling his candles and later, as their circumstances improved, even learnt how to drive a van so she could accommodate the larger quantities of candles that they were now dealing with. “She is the light of my life,” smiles Bhavesh.

That is not to say that his struggles became any easier once Neeta came into his life. But now that he had a comrade to share the burden with, the load did not seem quite as heavy. “Sighted people were not ready to accept that a blind person could stand on his own feet. One time some miscreants pulled all my candles from the cart and threw it in the gutter. Whenever I used to go around asking for help, I was told to my face, ‘You are blind. What good can you do?’ I tried to get guidance from professional candle manufacturers and other institutes. But no one helped me.” While loan requests earned him outright rejections, even simple non-monetary requests were met with hostile reactions. He wanted to know from experts advice on candle manufacturing, but received derision and scorn.

“So I would go with my wife to malls and tried to touch and feel the different varieties of the overpriced candles displayed there,” recalls Bhavesh. Based on what his senses could accrue, and basing the rest on his talents of hustling and creativity, he tried for a greater variety in his creations. The turning point came when he was granted a loan of fifteen thousand rupees from Satara Bank, where NAB had a special scheme for blind people. “With this we purchased fifteen kilos of wax, two dyes and a hand cart for fifty rupees,” says Bhavesh on what would go on to become a multi crore business, with prestigious corporate clients from all over the country and the world and a dedicated team of two hundred employees-all of whom are visually impaired.

Bhavesh shares, “Now that I look back, I realize that the reason so many people turned me away when I asked for a loan was because the way the world does business is ruthless. Everyone thinks with their mind and not their heart. I have come to realize that the only way to run a successful business is to think with your heart in the equation. It will take time. A lot of time. Untold sacrifice and hard work. But if you are doing what your heart tells you to do, you will achieve what you set out to achieve.”

Once upon a time Bhavesh used to painstakingly set aside twenty five rupees a day to purchase wax for the next day’s candle stock. Today Sunrise Candles uses twenty five tonnes of wax a day to manufacture their 9000 designs of plain, scented and aromatherapy candles. They purchase their wax from UK. Their clientsare Reliance Industries, Ranbaxy, Big Bazar, Naroda Industries and Rotary Club, to name a few.

On his decision to employ the visually challenged to run Sunrise Candles, Bhavesh says, “We train blind people so that they can understand the work and not just help us at our unit, but some day go back home to set up their own business.” While he likes to concentrate on the creative aspects of the firm, Neeta takes care of the administrative duties of the enterprise. She also imparts vocational training to blind girls, aiding them into becoming self-sufficient.

Task in Hand: You are to create a Business Plan for a street vendor business in Bangalore with the aim of generating a revenue of at least Rs 1 crore per annum by the end of 10 years.

The business plan must include but not be limited to: Executive Summary Market Opportunity & Feasibility Analysis Product Description & Differentiation Strategies Competition Analysis Operation Plan Distribution Plan with Location Analysis Marketing Plan and Strategies Recruitment Plan & Organisational Structure Detailed Financials ( sources of funds and allocation of funds including fixed and variable costs and initial and future investment for operations, marketing, HR, growth etc.) Revenue Model with Projected Revenues Growth Plan

Deliverables: A report of not less than 10 pages. A PPT of not more than 7 slides.

Deadline: Softcopy submission at 7:00pm on June 30th, 2019. Report hardcopy submission at 4:00pm on 1st July, 2019. Please refer to the previous posts titled "Sample Material" and "Formatting Guidelines" for reference.

PS1: Remember to put yourself in the shoes of a street vendor before proceeding with your ideas. Creativity without feasibility is like a gun that shoots blanks.

PS2: The deliverables are the bare minimum that is expected from you. Bringing the minimum will not earn you the title of 'The Exemplar'.

[fear-god-shun-evil]

A Christian Testimony: My Heart Has Stopped Wandering

My name is Novo, I am a Filipino. Since I was little, I believed in God with my mother. I went to church with my brothers and sisters to listen to sermons. Even though I had believed in the Lord for many years, I felt that I was like an unbeliever. Within my heart, I would think about how to earn more money and live a better life all day long. Furthermore, I would frequently go out and drink with friends. Once I had extra money, I would go out and gamble. Even though I knew that what I was doing was bad and I would frequently pray to God saying that I would change these bad habits of mine, I basically never put it into practice. In this way, I became increasingly degenerated. I did not pray sincerely to God. Each week, I would only pray a few simple prayers in a perfunctory way. Sometimes, I felt very desperate because I knew that when the Lord returned, He would judge everybody’s actions. He would then decide whether each person would go to heaven or go to hell. I felt that I was a degenerate and that God would not forgive me. Afterward, I married and had kids. All I thought about was my wife and my children. When it came to my faith, I pushed it to the back of my mind. In order to provide a better future for my children and to achieve my desires to become rich, I decided to leave the country to find work. As a result, I came to Taiwan. Even after I found work, I still had not changed my past lifestyle. During my leisure time, I would still go out to drink and sing with my colleagues. I was living the life of an unbeliever.

In 2011, I worked as a welder in a factory in Taiwan. One day in 2012, a colleague in Taiwan asked me if I was a Catholic. I replied that I was. Afterward, she invited me for Mass at her church. Then, one Sunday morning, at dawn, she came to the factory to pick us up and brought us to her friend’s house. There, I met Brother Joseph. He asked me, “Brother, do you expect the second coming of the Lord Jesus?” I said that I did. Joseph asked me again, “Do you know what work the Lord Jesus will do when He returns?” I replied, “He will sit upon a white throne and judge mankind and divide people into different groups. Afterward, God will decide, based on each man’s conducts and deeds, whether he will go to heaven or hell.” Brother Joseph continued to ask me, “If we told you that the Lord Jesus has already come and is doing the work of judgment, would you believe?” I was quite surprised when I heard him say this. I thought: Has the Lord Jesus already returned? How is this possible? Wouldn’t He judge us if He has already returned? I haven’t seen the judgment before the great white throne! However, I did not directly ask him these questions because I felt that God’s judgment is a mystery and God’s wisdom is unfathomable to man. My viewpoints may not be right. I felt it would be better for me to listen to their viewpoints first. As a result, I replied, “This is something that I do not yet dare confirm. Please continue to speak.” Afterward, Brother Joseph and others showed me many passages from the Bible that talked about the judgment work that He would do once He returned. Two verses from this selection are as follows: “He that rejects me, and receives not my words, has one that judges him: the word that I have spoken, the same shall judge him in the last day” (Jhn 12:48). “For the time is come that judgment must begin at the house of God” (1Pe 4:17). After I saw these predictions, I focused my attention on what these brothers and sisters had to say. I believed that what they had shared with me was the truth because I knew that the Bible had recorded the work of God.

Afterward, Brother Joseph let us read two more passages of God’s word: “The work of judgment is God’s own work, so it must naturally be done by God Himself; it cannot be done by man in His stead. Because judgment is the conquering of man through the truth, it is unquestionable that God still appears as the incarnate image to do this work among men. That is to say, in the last days, Christ shall use the truth to teach men around the earth and to make all truths known to them. This is God’s work of judgment.” “In the last days, Christ uses a variety of truths to teach man, reveal the essence of man, and dissect his words and deeds. These words comprise various truths, such as man’s duty, how man should obey God, how man should be loyal to God, how man ought to live out the normal humanity, as well as the wisdom and disposition of God, and so on. These words are all focused on the essence of man and his corrupt disposition. In particular, those words that reveal how man spurns God are spoken in regard to how man is an embodiment of Satan and an enemy force against God. When God does the work of judgment, He does not simply make clear the nature of man with just a few words, but carries out revelation, dealing, and pruning over the long term. Such manner of revelation, dealing, and pruning cannot be substituted with ordinary words but with the truth that man does not possess at all. Only such manner of work is deemed judgment; only through such judgment can man be persuaded, be thoroughly convinced into submission to God, and gain true knowledge of God. What the work of judgment brings about is man’s understanding of the true face of God and the truth about his rebelliousness. The work of judgment allows man to gain much understanding of the will of God, of the purpose of God’s work, and of the mysteries that could not be understood by man. It also allows man to recognize and know his corrupt substance and the roots of his corruption, as well as to discover the ugliness of man. These effects are all brought about by the work of judgment, for the substance of such work is actually the work of opening up the truth, way, and life of God to all those who have faith in Him. This work is the work of judgment done by God” (“Christ Does the Work of Judgment With the Truth”).

After I finished reading Almighty God’s word, they continued to talk to me. They helped me understand that God’s work was very real and it was not supernatural. God’s judgment work of the last days was not how I had imagined it—God would set up a large table in the sky and sat upon a big white throne. Everybody stood before God as He listed out our sins to determine whether we were good or evil. Afterward, He decided whether we would go to heaven or go to hell. Instead, God realistically incarnated in order to express His words and reveal man’s corruption and disobedience. He judges the sins of man and helps man have an understanding of his own corrupt nature. Afterward, He eliminates our sinful nature within and ends the pain of our life of sinning in the day and confessing in the evening. He helps us have a genuine understanding of Him so that we can achieve cleansing and salvation. In this way, man will be qualified to enter into the kingdom of heaven. Those who do not accept the judgment work of the last days and do not change their life disposition will be thrown into the lake of fire in the very end. By doing His work of judgment in this way, God indeed conforms with the realistic needs of man. I thought about myself: Even though I have believed in the Lord for many years and frequently prayed to God and confessed my sin, I still led a life of sin. I gambled, drank, told lies and deceived. I constantly committed sins, confessed them and then committed them again. My life was full of suffering. Apparently, we indeed need God to come to do His work of judgment and salvation. The Bible says: “and holiness, without which no man shall see the Lord” (Heb 12:14). The Lord is holy. If man does not wash himself of his sins, he is not worthy to see the Lord’s face. Suppose it is the way we imagine it to be. God comes in the last days and sets up a white throne in the air in order to judge man. He directly determines man’s ending. If this is the case, how does man eliminate his sins? Hasn’t man been condemned and punished? It seems that Almighty God most likely is the returned Lord Jesus. I should seek and investigate seriously. I must not miss the opportunity to welcome the Lord.

Afterward, they gave me the book The Word Appears in the Flesh. I was very happy. After I returned to my residence, I began to read God’s word all night. I read Almighty God’s words: “Your mouths are filled with words of deceit and filth, of betrayal and haughtiness. Never have you spoken words of sincerity and holiness to Me, nor the words of experiencing My word and obeying Me. What faith is this? Your hearts are filled with desires and wealth; your minds are filled with material things. Every day, you calculate how to gain from Me, assessing how much wealth and how many material things you have gained from Me. Every day, you await ever more blessings to come down upon you so that you may enjoy more and greater pleasurable things. That which is in your thoughts every moment is not Me or the truth that comes from Me, but rather your husband (wife), sons, daughters, or what you eat and wear, and how you can enjoy even better, greater pleasure. Even if you stuff your stomach to the brim, are you not still little more than a corpse? Even if you adorn your form gloriously, are you not still a walking corpse that has no life? You toil for the sake of your stomach until gray hairs are upon you, yet none are willing to sacrifice a single hair for My work. You journey, toil, and rack your brain for your flesh, and for your sons and daughters, yet none worry about or give thought to what is in My heart and mind. What do you wish to gain from Me?” (“Many Are Called, but Few Are Chosen”).

I felt God’s word pierced my heart like a sharp sword. These words revealed my life condition exactly. They described the real circumstance of my inner heart. I knew that only God can examine man’s heart and only God can reveal man’s corruption. I felt that the words of Almighty God are indeed the word of God. From God’s word, I understood that my own faith was full of lies and greed. I only acknowledged God’s name but my heart did not have God. I was only concerned about my family, my work and my own prospects. Each day, I only thought about how I could earn more money and how I could help my family live a more abundant life. Even though I often told God that I would love Him, I did not do what I said I would do. I kept on deceiving God. Also, all along, I prayed to God and asked Him to bless me even more, for I believed that God was eternally a God of love and God was full of mercy for man, and that even though I sinned, God would still pardon my sins, have mercy on me and bless me. However, after I finished reading Almighty God’s words, I understood that nobody is allowed to offend God’s righteous disposition. My heart started to revere God. God’s words of judgment and chastisement caused me to feel a lot of remorse for my past. I was very sad and I cried in my bed. For the first time, I cried bitterly as I prayed to God and repented, “God, please forgive me for my sins. I have resisted You in all things. I have deceived You. I am not qualified to ask You to be with me. I should be punished. God, thank You for giving me an opportunity to repent and be saved. From now on, I will do my utmost to pursue the truth. I will love You with a true heart….” After I prayed, I told myself that I needed to receive God’s judgment so that I could change my own life which was stuck in a cycle of sinning and confessing. I had to read more of Almighty God’s word and ponder it often so that I would understand more of the truth and have the strength to forsake my flesh, put the truth into practice and satisfy God’s will.

From then on, I brought a copy of The Word Appears in the Flesh with me to work. During my free time at work, I would read and ponder God’s word. From Almighty God’s words, I saw how corrupt and rebellious my behavior and thoughts were. Almighty God says: “You should pray, step-by-step, in accordance with your true state and that which is to be done by the Holy Spirit, and you should commune with God in keeping with God’s will and His requirements of man. When you begin practicing your prayers, first give your heart to God. Do not attempt to grasp God’s will; only try to speak the words within your heart to God. When you come before God, speak thus: ‘O God! Only today do I realize that I used to disobey You. I am truly corrupt and despicable. Before, I was wasting my time; starting from today I will live for You, I will live out a life of meaning, and satisfy Your will. I would that Your Spirit always works within me, and always illuminates and enlightens me, so that I can bear strong and resounding testimony before You, allowing Satan to see Your glory, Your testimony, and the proof of Your triumph within us.’ When you pray in this way, your heart will be completely set free, having prayed in this way, your heart will be closer to God…” (“Concerning the Practice of Prayer” ). In God’s word, I had a path through which I could resolve my corrupt disposition. I started to pray to God from the bottom of my heart with the sincerest attitude. With this kind of prayer, I could frequently feel that God was guiding me. Inside, I had faith and strength. I no longer lived the way I had in the past and I did not put into action the corrupt thoughts and ideas that were in my heart. My life had changed. I no longer lived a life where I committed sins and then repented for them. Instead, I genuinely lived in the light of God. Now I seek to conduct myself according to God’s word. Many of my viewpoints have also changed. I live much more happily than I did before. The words of Almighty God have given me a proper goal for my life. I no longer rack my brain and seek to live in luxury as I did in the past. I no longer seek to excel among other people. Instead, I pursue the truth in order to break free from my corrupt disposition and obtain cleansing and salvation. I also seek to obey God’s words in all matters and fulfill my duty as a created being in order to repay God’s love.

In July 2014, I returned to the Philippines. I was very happy to know that God had chosen many brothers and sisters from the Philippines. Presently, I live a church life and fellowship about God’s word with my brothers and sisters in The Church of Almighty God. We help and support each other and we are all working hard to pursue the truth, seek a change in our life disposition and achieve salvation. We are also working hard to bear witness to Almighty God’s work in the last days to people in our own country and even other countries. We want them to know that the Lord Jesus has already returned and we also want them to obtain God’s salvation of the last days as we have. Thank Almighty God! Now, my life is very abundant and happy every day. I have completely rid myself of that degenerate and decadent life. It is Almighty God who has led me to find my life goal and direction. I feel that living this way is how one can live a meaningful life!

[mayrasportfolio]

REFLECTIONS – chapter 30, 31 and 40

Selected global issues discussed in the chapters-

IMAGINATION & IDENTITY

Chapter 30, which is a part of the larger section titled ‘Night’, is an exploration of Offred’s past memories. The night, in the life of a handmaid, is the only part of their day they have reserved for themselves. While secluded in the privacy of her own room, Offred drifts away in her own thoughts, randomly appearing her head. The darkness of night also allows brings up the poetic language used by the narrator. It seems as if during the harsh sunlight of the day, Offred can not allow for her imagination to affect the way she perceives her surroundings, but once the sun sets, and night falls (a vivid discussion at the beginning of the chapter regarding why it falls rather than lifts is a sign of this sudden creativity emerging from the narrator as well), Offred becomes more focused on her senses and imagination, and uses rhetorical devices or imagery to deepen the readers understanding of her current state. She allows her thoughts to be free at night, therefore after spending the whole day submissively, her internal monologue cannot stop resurfacing events from the past, all of which are loosely tied to each other. Only through these memories can Offred sustain her identity. After her entire life has ended, she clings on to her remembrance of the past. Her collective memories form her identity.

BELIEFS & VALUES

As she relives events from the past, such as the day her and her husband had to make the decision to kill their cat, Offred evaluates her thoughts regarding how the communal oppression affected ones moral rules, and set of beliefs. Once her and her husband are forced to flee the country as a means of survival, the couple realize they cannot abandon their cat, as her aimless wandering may give them away to the authorities. ‘’I’ll take care of it, Luke said. And because he said it, instead of her, I knew he meant kill.” In order to be capable of killing anyone, one must first deprive it of its humanity – dehumanizing it. Luke had to see their cat as an object, and obstacle standing in the way of their freedom in order to even physically be able to murder it. This comparably small event forms a parallel between the current Gileadean society, where every citizen is regarded to without consideration for their life. Almost as if they were pions used for achieving a larger goal, which is the survival of the human race. But what is striking in this unwavering mentality, is that the aim of continuing the human population is achieved through taking away the humanity of the people. Offred states –‘’they force you to kill within yourself”, suggesting that once in the eyes of anybody or anything, one become a statistic rather than a person, they may come to think of themselves in that manner as well, therefore killing their humanity themselves.

Beliefs in the terms of religion are also explored in this chapter, as it reaches it’s end with Offred’s prayer. Before starting, she has a flashback from when she was forced to harmoniously pray along with the other women in the Red Centre. The verse ‘’Thank you for not creating me a man” is a reference and reversal of a Jewish prayer during which men thank God for not creating them a woman. This allusion simultaneously adds irony to the text, as well as fulfills the role of emphasizing a social double standard. The idea that one should be thankful for not being a woman is already degrading toward the second sex. In the novel, the context in which Atwood places this phrase suggests that the reason why handmaidens should be thankful to be women, is because they can serve the men by bearing their children. Both the clauses are offensive towards women, but the reasons are completely different. However, in Offreds personal prayer, she leaves the formalities aside, and builds a more intimate bond with the God she is speaking to. “I wish you tell me Your name, the real one I mean.” The narrator implies that even God, who is ominously referred to by a single word, just like her, has an original name, one that has nothing in common with the function He has, or the role He plays. In her solitude, the narrator is overwhelmed with a sudden need for grounded intimacy. The prayer for Offred is a last retreat of sorts. She panics as it starts to end, terrified by the thought that perhaps her words have no listener and that indeed even at this moment she is alone. Unlike the prayers conducted at the Red Centre, Offred’s speech to God is purely her’s. She treats the concept of the prayer without its inherent sanctity, and allows herself this one moment of conversational relief.

COMMUNITY

By the start of chapter 31, which begins a new section titles ‘Jezebels’, Atwood comments on the social pressures imposed by the members of a community. She mentions ‘It should scratch makes on the wall, one for each day of the week […] but what would be the use, this isn’t a jail sentence’, thereby comparing her environment to a prison. Working further on this idea we can imagine all the inhabitants of the area are either prisoners or guards, and similarly to the community of a jailhouse, aside from the institutional laws, there are a set of social pressures created and regulated by the members of the oppressed community. An example of such an issue is Offred telling the time by the moon cycle, which consists of 28, the same number as that of a women’s menstrual cycle. Even though Offred opposes to the regime of the Eyes, in order to remain safe in her environment, she immediately associates the passage of time with her fertility. Another socially construct necessity is that for Serena to have a child. Of course the idea that she may genuinely want to have an offspring is anything but rules out, however by presenting Offred with the idea that if she wants to remain safe of the risk of becoming an Unwoman, she should consider disobeying the law and engaging in a sexual relationship with Nick, Serena must be somewhat influenced by how the other high-ranking Wives view her. The social pressures of the community become a larger factor than the actual set of rules regulated by the authorities and that are imposed on the people.

SEXUALITY & IDENTITY

Starting from chapter 30, Offred mentions her diminishing control over her own body and sexuality, nonetheless, it is in chapter 40 that these concerns become impersonated. In the previous chapter, Offred states –‘’my nightgown, long-sleeved even in the summer to keep us from the temptations of our own flesh, to keep us from hugging ourselves, bare-armed”. The clause indicates that women, specifically handmaids no longer have a right to their own body. The concept of sexuality is merely liquidated and urged to be forgotten, therefore, women are not even permitted to feel the touch of their own skin. Yet, this does not mean that one’s thoughts have to conform. ‘’They scent from the garden rises like a heat from a body’’, suggesting that it is against the nature of humankind to abolish sexuality. From an evolutionary standpoint, that trait is one of the reasons humans have survived this far, thus expecting that withholding temptation would be easier than withholding the urge to act or think is unrealistic.

The lack of human touch Offred has been struggling with manifests itself in chapter 40, when she arrives at Nicks door. There are two full versions of the events that took place in that room told by the narrator, nevertheless, both are said to be false. The various versions may lead to reader to question the reliability of the author. All being said, the Historical Notes section clearly indicates that since the narrator could not be traced, the events may fabricated. Yet the reason for the unclear string of events may be the emotional overload Offred faced upon entering the room. Offred’s statement “I am alive in my skin” is a clear suggestion that because of the lack of physical touch that narrator has experienced in the past years, the excitement that entails the experience may make the recollections more hazy and faded. False memories are also a factor worth considering, as from a psychological point of view, the sudden intimacy may have been a shock factor for the narrator, leading her to loose her grip on the objective reality and focus on her subjective experience. The final phrases – ‘’Is would like to be ignorant. Then I wouldn’t’ know how ignorant I was’’ means that the simple act of engaging in a sexual relationship, while Luke is still alive, is a burden on the narrator. She admits to needing love, nevertheless, cannot come to terms that she can somehow ‘replace’ her lost husband with Nick. This indicated that she regards her body and sexuality as something that has the possibility to belong to a certain person, rather then simply be hers. Later in the novel she explains that she loved Nick, and perhaps that is why she felt she had deceived Luke, yet at this moment, she is completely at loss with what her body is and who it belongs to.

[fyrapartnersearch]

Looking for a dedicated long term sci-fi partner for discord, kik,hangouts or google docs.

Hello everyone! Hope you’re having awesome days/nights/afternoons or whatever other time it may be for you! I’m just your average twenty year old rper whose come looking for something specific this time. I’ve been craving to do something sci-fi that preferably has a healthy dose of aliens, laser guns, space ships, space, more laser guns (you can never have to many lasers) and an awesome story. I’ve put together three little ideas that I thought would be nice samples for anyone interested to take a look at so they can get an idea as to what I may be looking for or what we may do when we rp. Remember these are just samples, we do not have to rp them and I’m more than happy to listen to and do the ideas of my partners. Voltron: legend of the fallen Voltron: defender of the universe was the mightiest and most powerful robot in existence. Over ten thousand years of age the battle hardened warrior fought hand to hand with zarkon’s robeasts and many other monsters. Voltron was the universes only current robot capable of doing such things though which was where the worry occurred and the idea to remedy that first spurred. With careful consideration, a few arguments courtesy of lance and Keith as well as encouragement from commander holt the proposal was put forward: train the current and new cadets how to fly animal shapes space ships, that is ships that were like voltrons lions, so that they had a backup should voltron ever be unable to fight. Surprisingly for the paladins, galaxy garrison approved of the idea. Within three days the plan was in motion. The cadets were to build robotic animal companions that would be the animal ship they built and flew, it was to be a way of strengthening the bond between pilot and ship. (This takes place roughly after season 6, after the Galra invasion has been cleared from planet earth. Zarkon and lotor are a live therefor Haggar hasn’t gone crazy with her reality destroying plan. While the paladins and other canon characters will be in this and are playable, please keep in mind that they are not there for the purpose of being shipped but for the role they play as teachers in the rp. We will be oc’s who will be cadets who are very close to graduation. The rp will consist of mixed lore from voltron defender of the universe, voltron force and voltron legendary defender as well as some thing other things I’ve come up with for the rp.) Project rehabilitation Many many years into the future, about the 25th century, it was discovered that the galaxy humans occupied for so long was merely one little lick of what lay beyond it. Thanks to advanced technology, extensive studies of human biology and space humans were able to colonise many planets beyond their solar system just in time for the 31st century. Six years of achievements were celebrated regularly. The biggest hurdle to colonising planets beyond earth where the aliens that inhabited the planets. Through very careful tactics, negotiating and trust building a peace pact was formed so that humans and aliens could harmlessly live alongside each other. Despite the acceptance from most people from both races, there were steal trouble makers and extremists. Human criminals weren’t much of a worry.....alien ones were a exception since they were unpredictable and there was still so much scientists did not know about them. This was where project rehabilitation came in, project rehabilitation was aimed at particularly dangerous alien criminals who held a class five or higher threat to society. Many feared what happened beyond the walls, for all they knew no one came back out of them alive. (In this rp I’m an alien criminal who has been captured and taken to the facility, you can be a human, alien or whatever you want. There’s lots of room for creativity in this rp and I encourage you to absolutely pelt me with ideas) A spaceship called legacy The legacy is a ship that’s flown through space since it’s maiden voyage in 2356. Fast forward to the year 2578 and the ship is still going. What makes the legacy such a legend is the mystery of its original voyage destination. Long ago explorers set the legacy on a course that was never followed, the ship came back with no survivors. Some believed that they’d been killed by an unknown menace, others believed something must’ve happened onboard. Regardless the legacy was still used, such a ship could not afford to go to waste despite the myths behind it. The legacy’s current captain had been gifted with the goal to search for other planets that would serve uses to the human race and the aliens they had pledged allegiance too. (I’ve left this one open as it’s yet again another scenario that has the potential for creativity to really get flowing) I hope you all enjoy my samples. Down below is a list of requirements that any potential partners must fulfil before messaging me for a roleplay. 1: you must be literate, write in the third person, have decent spelling and grammar and write at least five or six well fleshed out sentences . One worders, one liners, frequent very bad typos and poorly fleshed out sentences are a big no for me. Occasional typoese I can handle but not constant. 2: you must be 18+ (I will not rp with anyone who isn’t at least eighteen). I’m twenty, rping with someone under 18 (especially since I rp mature themes that aren’t m rated) would get me into very big trouble. No amount of “oh I’m old enough in my country” or “I’m not old enough but I don’t mind” is going to convince me to rp with a minor. 3: I do not care whether you rp as a human/alien/animal/anthro/furry/kangawallafox/ etc. I do care that you rp as a character who isn’t just a Mary Sue/Gary Stu/ op/is just a copy paste of my character or another character/is flawless/overly submissive/overly dominant/only made of flaws/is just you or a self insert and a godmodder. I don’t expect you to come to the rp with a character in hand but I do expect you to be able to create a decent one. 4: you must be able to post once a day or more at the very most and once or more a week at the very least. Any longer and I’ll assume interest has been lost or you’re ghosting me. 5: please do not approach me asking for a fandom rp (voltron is a fandom and it’s currently the only one I will do at the moment apart from lion king) that isn’t related to the example I’ve given or what characters I ship. I’m not a fan of the whole shipping thing for many reasons, it doesn’t mean I won’t allow it but I will express concern if you become too focused on it. Please also do not approach me asking for a rp that isn’t sci-fi as it’s what I’m looking to do at the moment. 6: you must be comfortable writing with/as non human characters/characters with disabilities/etc. you must also be okay with lgbt+ stuff, dark themes, adult themes and nsfw (I do not fade to black). 7: please do not message me saying you want an rp then never answer me again, I don’t accept ghosters and I will not stick around if I find out you’re ghosting me. 8: if something is wrong please tell me! I always try to remedy anything that may be wrong but I won’t know the problem till you’ve spoken it. 9: do not control my characters or dictate their actions. What my characters do/think/hear/smell/see/taste/feel/ etc is up to me to decide. 10: please make sure this is something you have time for. Life comes first but please do not message me if you know you’re going to be swamped by work or other important life things as I do not want yet another message of “I’m so sorry but I cannot rp like I thought I would be able to”. I get this message too often from well meaning people who get swamped by work and cannot rp even if we haven’t started. I know it’s no ones fault but it does get disheartening. 11: you must have discord/kik/hangouts or google docs. I will not rp on any other platform? Not too much to ask for right? Down below is a list about me. 1: I’m literate, write in the third person and stick to the at least five or six lines rule. 2: I’m twenty, hence why I will not rp with anyone who isn’t at least 18. 3: I only rp male characters but I’m open to same sex pairings. The gender of your character or your real life gender doesn’t matter to me. 4: I prefer to play as non human characters unless requested to be a human character. 5: I do not have face claims or pictures for my characters. I only have descriptions. Please do not ask me for pictures or face claims. 6: I live in the eastern Australian time zone, your time zone will not matter to me and I’m available almost every hour of the day provided I’m not sleeping or doing something else. 7: I’m okay with romance but it must be slow burn only and not forced. I don’t do love at first sight or fast paced romance. If you force romance on me I will leave. My characters will be less likely to imitate romance in any situation (they tend to be switches in everything and slightly submissive and unsure when it comes to romance.). Please do not force any kinks on me if I’ve expressed discomfort at the thought of doing them and I do not do top/bottom dynamics, only switch dynamics. Give me a slow burn forbidden romance as a secondary plot and I’ll happily have romance in the rp. 7: I do not want to be the one who comes up with all the ideas, brainstorming with partners is one of the things I enjoy most about rp’s. For all those who have read this post thank you! My contacts are down below. My discord is: tiberionsunsconqourer#6187 My kik is: Tiberionconqueror My email (you’ll need this for hangouts and google docs) is: lleo52560 Can’t wait to rp with anyone interested!

[superjournalslibrary-blog]

How To Be Humble Like a Child

Except ye be converted, and BECOME AS LITTLE CHILDREN, Matthew 18:3

LET HIM BE AS THE YOUNGER . . . Luke 22:26 What is the formula for humility? How can we acquire this vague spiritual virtue? Because pride is a nebulous and vague evil, it is easily disguised and comes to us in many forms. It is no surprise that most people who claim to be humble are actually proud. It is also no surprise that many things that are called humility are actually not humility. For instance, people who speak with an unusual accent are sometimes thought of as proud. Rich people, prominent people and confident people are also wrongly accused of being proud. But many of these people are not actually proud.

So how can we know when someone is actually humble or proud? Jesus Christ the Son of God came to this world to show us the way to humility, the truth about humility and the life of humility. His simple formula for humility is what this book is about.

The answer to pride is simple – be a child or be a servant! Jesus said, “Whosoever therefore shall humble himself as this little child ...”. This is important because Jesus is telling us that a child is humble. I would not have thought of a child as being humble or having any virtues.

I would have thought of a child as being infantile, naïve, basic or even stupid! But Jesus described the behaviour of a child as humility. It is therefore important for us to study the characteristics of a child and accept them as real humility.

How can you be humble? How can you humble yourself? Truly, Jesus gave us the formula for humility when He said, “Whosoever therefore shall humble himself as this little child, the same is greatest in the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 18:4). Humility is the most important virtue for Christians because it is what makes you great in the kingdom. Who wouldn’t want to be great in the kingdom of God? If you want to be great in the kingdom, study all you can about humility and put it into action. With all your might strive to become like a child. The more childlike you are the more humble you are!

What It Means To Be Humble Like A Child

1. When you are humble like a child, you quickly forgive and forget. When you lose this humility, you no longer forgive and forget.

Most adults do not forgive easily. Children have a short attention span and a short memory. It takes humility to let go of issues. As you get older and prouder, you know what is right and you know when people are behaving wrongly. As you get older, you become more conscious of when you are being cheated and when you are getting the bad end of the stick. Because of that, an older and prouder person does not easily give up issues or forget the wrongs that have been done to him. You would like to prove the point and show people how people how badly they have behaved.

This righteous anger is actually a manifestation of our pride. Children, on the other hand, have quarrels as they play together but will be found playing happily together a few minutes after the quarrel. A grown-up will carry on with the quarrel and decide not to speak, smile or flow around any more. How different grown- ups are from children!

To be humble therefore, is to not continue to quarrel. To be humble is to decide not to remain unhappy with your fellow brother or sister. Pastors display great pride by having conflicts with each other, not flowing with each other and fighting one another from the pulpit.

When a man finds a beautiful young lady who respects and honours him, he marries her knowing that he has found a humble, submissive creature whom he can lead about for the rest of his life.

Unfortunately, the humility and submissive nature which attracted the man soon fades away. Soon, the prouder and more confident wife comes into conflict with an equally proud and confident husband. The clashes begin and both parties feel they are right. Everyone feels cheated and disappointed. “I will never forget, I will never forgive” are the unspoken promises that spouses make to each other after their marital clashes.

When the couple were in a relationship and there was a lot of humility, nothing was able to stir up such quarrels. With pride came quarrels. “Only by pride cometh contention...” (Proverbs 13:10). Because of the increase in pride in couples, there is more contention, more unforgiveness and more divorce. Indeed, without humility you cannot enter the kingdom’s blessing of permanent love and marriage.

2. When you are humble like a child, you sit quietly and listen to instructions and teachings. When you lose this humility, you no longer sit quietly and listen to instructions, teachings and guidance.

When you are humble like a child, you allow yourself to be led. You are guidable, malleable and “leadable”. When you lose this humility, you do not want to be led or taught by anyone. You want to be independent. Your pride makes you stiff and independent. You take great pride in claiming independence.

Children sit quietly and receive instructions in the classroom. Grown-ups are able to gather them into groups and teach them. When people are filled with pride, they resent being put in a group. They resent having to be a part of little groups that are being taught. “I am not a small boy,” they say in their hearts. “I do not see why I should attend that meeting. Who is that bible study leader and why should I listen to his ideas?” You rarely find rich proud people attending small group meetings. These people rarely attend prayer meetings, bible studies or Sunday School meetings. 

They are too big and too proud to sit still and be taught the word of God. Perhaps, such people would be more comfortable in a large Sunday service of a prominent cathedral in their city. But remember that when you were a child you were gathered into little groups and taught songs, poems and hymns. Remember that when you were humble you could attend services and receive teachings and blessings. If you want to be humble, decide to be like a child. Decide to join the groups. Decide to be someone who can be gathered and organised alongside with others. Decide to be someone who can be taught and trained in new things. What a blessing will come over you as you walk in humility!

3. When you are humble like a child, you easily learn new things. When you lose this humility, you do not easily learn anything new.

Learning new things is another sign that you still have some humility around you. When we become proud we are unable to read books and learn the new things God wants to bring us into. Ministers of the gospel stop learning at the rate at which they become proud. Unable to receive from people they despise, they stop growing in the Lord and they stop growing in the ministry. Many ministries have come to a plateau because of their inability to learn new things and to find new ways of doing old things. But the real problem is not that you cannot learn new things. The real problem is that pride has taken away childlikeness from you and prevented you from being capable of learning anything new. Unfortunately, God often brings new things for us to learn through vessels we least expect. It may be someone from a different country, different tribe or different colour. He may have a funny accent or he may be too young for you to receive from him. He may be someone you consider to be inferior. Because of this, you are forced to stop learning and to remain the size that you grew to when you were humble. Church growth would have happened in your ministry if you could have learnt something new. You would have entered into a miracle ministry if you could have learnt some new things. Humility would have made you into a child and given you the ability to become a better musician and a better singer in the kingdom. We all grow up and knowing certain things. Without humility you will not be able to learn the many more new things that you need to know for your ministry. Pride indeed keeps you in a state of a permanent fall.

4. When you are humble like a child, you copy things easily. When you lose this humility, you do not want to copy, even if it is a good thing. There are many methods of learning. Copying is the divine method given to children to make them surge forward and catch up with adults. Children copy easily and that is why they are able to learn languages quickly. Grown-ups are filled with pride and are unable to copy something successful from their neighbour. It takes great humility to copy someone. When people copy, they try to hide the fact that they learnt something from you.

Here are the words of the proud one who cannot and will not copy. He says: “I want to be an original! I am not a copy of anyone! I didn’t copy what I know! I learnt it by myself! I am an original! God revealed it to me Himself from heaven!” How nice it sounds to be able to say that everything about you is original. In my ministry, I have found the art of copying to be the key to surging forward and catching up with people I look up to. In other words, humility is the key to surging forward and catching up with those ahead of you.

I have been able to surge forward into the ministry of teaching and preaching by copying Fred Price. I have been able to surge forward into church growth by copying Yonggi Cho. I have been able to surge forward into the ministry of miracles by copying Benny Hinn. I have been able to surge forward into the mass crusades in Africa by copying Reinhard Bonnke.

I have a very long list of things that I have copied from others. I have no shame about this. I am glad I copied them. It has changed my life! It has changed my ministry! It has changed everything about me! When you are too big to copy you will stay down. So what about you? When are you going to start copying good things so that you can surge forward and catch up with those who have left you so far behind? When are you going to lay aside your pride and become a little child again? O for another chance at greatness through the key of humility!

5. When you are humble like a child, you are not conscious of the wealth of others. When you lose this humility, you relate to people based on their wealth.

Little children are not conscious of wealth or riches. The son of a millionaire will play games with the child from the slums without thinking about who they are. It is when the simplicity and humility of childlikeness departs from you that you become conscious of what people have. It is your pride that makes you find out where people live, what car they drive and how much money they have. The humble eyes of a child do not notice these things.

When you become humble you will no longer notice or look out for the symbols of wealth. You will no longer relate to people according to how much money they have or where they live. This is the reason why many people cannot be in the ministry. They do not want to relate to the poor and the down-and-outers of the society. But our Christian religion forces us to be humble and to relate with the sick, poor, handicapped and the lame. Pride therefore keeps you away from true ministry because it keeps you away from the poor. When you have the humility of a child, you will be able to receive the right husband or the right woman for your life. A good wife or husband may not have so much money to show. If all you are doing is looking at the wealth of your potential partner, your pride will lead you to a fall.

When pastors’ eyes are filled with pride, they look for wealth in their members. They visit wealthy people and go for exquisite dinners with the prominent members of their church. They hardly visit the young or the poor members because they have no money to offer. Your pride has led you away from the humble sheep that need your help most. You need humble eyes to be a good minister of the gospel.

6. When you are humble like a child, you are not conscious of people’s nationalities. When you lose this humility, you become conscious of people’s nationalities.

Little children are not conscious of which country a person comes from. Neither are they conscious of a person’s accent or colour. Grown-ups are very conscious of these things and will not allow their children to marry from certain countries or tribes. As you grow up and the evil of pride enters your soul, you become conscious of many things that a child never notices. National pride and tribal pride are evil spirits that enter into adults. Look carefully and you will see that there is nothing like that in children.

Through humility you will be able to marry someone from another country or tribe. Some people will remain unmarried because they did not have the humility to marry someone from another country. Some people will not receive spiritual blessings from white men because they belong to a black movement that looks down on white preachers.

God can give you great blessings through “white”, “blue” and “yellow” pastors. Why have you become conscious of things that do not matter to God? You are filled with the spirit of pride. The humility you need is gone! You are in trouble because you have lost your humility.

7. When you are humble like a child, you do not cover your natural weaknesses. When you lose this humility you always do your best to make a good impression. A humble person does not care about what people think about him. A humble person does not care whether you are impressed or not. The proud people of this world need to keep up appearances and impress the world. Children can bathe and stand naked by the side of the road without thinking much about it. When you lose your innocence and your humility you are unable to undress or bathe by the roadside. You are conscious of what you look like and what people think of you. Children do not worry about what people think about them. They are not concerned about what anybody thinks. They have no need to constantly impress others with a good outward show.

Pride in a woman is revealed by her constant need to look sharp, beautiful and impressive to the outside world. The need for make-up and special hair-dos is fuelled by the pride of life.

Many ladies do not present their real and normal selves to us. But at home they cover their hair, take off their necklaces and jewellery and become real. Outside, they are full of smiles and pleasantries that are unreal. Their need to stay up high on the scale and be impressive to the outside world reveals how far they are from being little children.

8. When you are humble like a child, you are trusting and believing.

Little children believe many fantastic stories such as the story of Santa Claus. I have enjoyed telling my children stories. Many times I sought and searched for stories so I could tell my children interesting stories. I have found myself enjoying the stories as much as they seemed to enjoy the stories. One day, my grown up sons heard my little daughter rehearsing a story I had told them and they asked, “Is Daddy still telling you those stories?? They had once enjoyed my stories but had grown too big for these same stories.

So it is with our spiritual lives. When we are humble like children, we believe many fantastic stories. We believe the bible. We believe all teachings. We believe in giving. We believe in tithing. We believe in miracles. We believe in signs and wonders. When you are a child, you trust your father even though he may be an adulterer or an irresponsible man. As far as you are concerned, he is your father! So it is when you are humble like a child! You believe the man of God and trust what he says. People who have become proud, do not believe what pastors say anymore. They no longer believe the stories and messages of the man of God. Pride makes you sceptical of men of God. Pride makes you come up with excuses for not believing in anything any more.

When people are filled with pride they begin to criticise their own parents and rebuke them for not being worthy parents. When pride fills the eyes and the heart of a son, he finds fault with his father and speaks about his father’s shortcomings. A prideful daughter will rebuke her own mother or father for not being a good enough provider.

Try sitting in church by a man filled with pride and arrogance. He will make negative comments about the pastor, the preaching and the church. He will reject the messenger and the message, reducing every argument to absurdity. You may reject the word of God, but it is not because you are knowledgeable or learned. It is because you are proud. Your negative comments about a preacher are not a sign of your being educated or wise. They are a sign of the evil pride of man which has filled your soul.

Man of God, it is time to humble yourself and receive people whom God has sent to you. It is time to believe the bible again and to receive the messages that are coming to you from the Holy Spirit. Become a child and believe in the vision and messages of the Holy Spirit to you. Remember, when you are humble you become great in the kingdom. Remember, when you are humble you will believe the fantastic visions, dreams and messages from God’s servants to you. 9. When you are humble like a child, you are not conscious of your living circumstances. When you lose this humility you become conscious of your circumstances.

When you are a child, you are not conscious of your living circumstances. You are not even aware of which country you live in. When my children were smaller, they did not understand where exactly they were. I would take them to a town in the western part of Ghana but they never understood that they were still in Ghana. It did not matter to them. Everywhere was good enough, once their parents were there.

Pride leads people to live in certain places even though it is not good for them. There are many people who would have been happier living in developing Africa but they chose to live as third rate citizens in the western world because it just sounds nicer and better to be living on Martin Luther Boulevard, California than to live on a nameless dusty path in Suhum, Eastern Ghana with your address being P. O. Box 6, Suhum. When you are humble you will not mind being anywhere once your Heavenly Father is there. When you get filled with pride, you will want to live in places because of the name of the place and the perceived wealth and prosperity of that town.

Many people cannot do the work of God because of the things they are conscious of. Through humility you can go to the ends of the world and preach the word of God. Through humility, everywhere will be good enough. But when the pride of life has filled you, you will differentiate between places in your heart. You will be unable to fulfil the great commission.

If you were humble you could sit on the floor, you could live anywhere and you could sleep anywhere. Because you have been led by the pride of life, you will miss the greatness, the crowns and the glory that are meant for humble people. When you are humble like a child, you worship and dance freely in church. When you lose this humility, you are so conscious of yourself that you cannot worship or dance freely in the house of God. It is a common sight to see the young people surging forward to the front of the church with vigorous dances whilst the mature ones stand aloof and marvel at the energy of the young ones. You may think the young people are dancing because they are youthful. They are actually dancing because they are humble. Pride will keep you fixated by your seat because you are too big for people to see you looking so exuberant and excited.

10. When you are humble like a child, you do not answer back and you do not challenge or argue. When you lose this humility you answer back and challenge.

When a little child is spoken to in his classroom, he does not answer back at his teacher. When his teacher asks him why he is late, he does not say to his teacher, “But you were late yesterday and why are you asking so much about lateness!” It will be completely unheard of for this little child to answer back at his teacher. Indeed, when you are humble like a child you do not challenge your pastors or argue with your fathers.

Watch out for people who challenge, criticise and fight their teachers. These are the sons of pride who have learnt to see faults in grown-ups. These are the ones who have learnt to have an answer for every correction or comment that is made about them.

Marriage is a place where humility can be lost forever. If you were to put a recorder into the bedrooms of many couples you would hear many arguments and retorts, rebukes and rebuttals. No one is ever wrong and nothing can be said about anything any more. The most obvious errors are challenged and rejected continuously. The bedroom has become the arena for two equally strong and prideful opponents to argue and answer back at each other continuously. Threats of separation and threats of divorce intersperse the never-get-anywhere arguments. Mercy! Perhaps, a little drop of humility would change the atmosphere at home so much. Perhaps some terminal sickness or some tragic news would change the tone in the bedroom and bring an end to the constant bickering between these sparring partners. A few drops of humility will change the tone and atmosphere of the bedroom.

Do you not think that terminal illness and looming death and the grave would have a humbling effect? Certainly, it will and it does! This is why the bible says we should humble ourselves. We should humble ourselves otherwise we will be humbled. And it is much easier to humble yourself!

11. When you are humble like a child you embrace adventure, excitement and new things. When you lose this humility, you are no longer exciting, adventurous and fearless.

Children love running around and climbing into things to find out what is there. Grown-ups sit back and see everything as risky and dangerous. I remember when we built a bell tower in our church. Before we could fix a trap door, we found children climbing the stairs to the very top. It is quite a scary journey to the top but the children found it great fun to climb all the way to the top. Such is the way and the life of a child.

When you are a child you are ready for the adventure and the excitement that comes with serving God. You are open for a challenge and ready to travel anywhere in search of God’s will. You want to do His will and you want to serve Him no matter where and no matter what it costs. Older Christians, filled with the pride of their middle age and the pride of their achievements do not even read verses that talk about going to the ends of the world.

They do not want to know about the Great Commission. We may call it maturity but it is actually backsliding and pride. The pride of life makes you establish yourself more and more in this life. The pride of life causes you to avoid risky things that may endanger your establishment in this life.

12. When you are humble like a child, you allow yourself to be cared for. When you lose this humility, you want to help yourself.

Children are cared for by their parents, uncles and guardians. They receive care and provision without thinking twice. They somehow feel that the parent or guardian owns the whole world. They do not know where he gets his money from and it does not occur to them to ask. A child allows himself to be provided for. That is humility. You may ask, “What does this have to do with your spiritual life?” Indeed , when you enter into full time ministry you need to be humble and allow yourself to be looked after by the church. It is a very humbling experience. If you are an educated person who could be gainfully employed anywhere else, it is a humbling experience to allow yourself to be looked after by a congregation.

It is humbling to allow yourself to live off people’s benevolence, gifts and offerings. Because I am a medical doctor, I have the option of working in the hospital. It is much more dignified to live off an income that you earned as a specialist surgeon than to live from the collection plate. Without humility you cannot enter into full time ministry. Without humility you cannot work for God. Without humility you will never bear the fruit that God wants you to bear.

13. When you are humble like a child, you are soft and bendable. When you lose this humility, you become hard, unyielding and stubborn.

For rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft, and stubbornness is as iniquity and idolatry. Because thou hast rejected the word of the LORD, he hath also rejected thee from being king. 1 Samuel 15:23

A young tree can be bent easily. An old tree is hard, stubborn and unbendable. The more childlike you are, the more easily you change your mind. The more childlike you are, the more you accept and believe what you are told. Young people flow along easily. The more of an adult you are, the less you change your mind. You must endeavour never to be hard and stubborn because it shows that you have moved away from childlike humility. Hardness and stubbornness are terrible symptoms of pride.

Show me a stubborn woman and I will show you a proud woman! Show me a stubborn and unyielding wife and I will show you a proud wife! Show me a man who will never change, never yield, never accept, never bend and never agree and you are looking at a very proud man. These are not good things! You must do everything to distance yourself from the picture of the unbendable, unyielding, stubborn, hardened, resistant, obstinate and implacable personality!

14. When you are humble like a child, you are open and transparent. When you lose this humility, you become private, secretive, and closed up.

And he said, I heard thy voice in the garden, and I was afraid, because I was naked; and I hid myself. And he said, Who told thee that thou wast naked? Hast thou eaten of the tree, whereof I commanded thee that thou shouldest not eat? Genesis 3:10-11

The very first effect of sin was to cover up and become, private, secretive and closed up. Before the evil of pride entered into man he was open and transparent. Sinless man walked about freely in his nakedness, never seeing anything wrong his openness. Hiding, covering secrets and refusing to open up is a sign of great pride. It is when we are adults, and when we have grown out of our childlike humility that we feel too big to show ourselves.

When you are a child you can be naked, and show how and what you really are. But when you are not a child, you reveal less and less of yourself. Being yourself and revealing who you are, is a sign of childlike humility. You will sense the presence of an evil pride when you sit before a secretive individual who refuses to open up. You can sense that something evil has descended on the person because he or she is unwilling to be open to you any longer.

Do not forget the wonderful blessings of being open. Confessing faults one to another leads to your restoration and healing (James 5:16). Clamping up and keeping your sins covered will not allow you to prosper and receive mercy. “He that covereth his sins shall not prosper: but whoso confesseth and forsaketh them shall have mercy” (Proverbs 28:13). Perhaps the greatest blessing of being open is to have fellowship with others who are equally open. If you walk in the light, as you friend is in the light you have real fellowship with each other. Clamping up, becoming “private and secretive” is the pride that will keep you away from the most important relationships of your life. Pride indeed comes before your fall!

15. When you are humble like a child, you express your need for others. When you lose this humility, you think you do not need anyone.

God having provided some better thing for us, that they without us should not be made perfect. Hebrews 11:40

Children are dependent on their parents. Sheep are dependent on their shepherds. Humble pastors are dependent on other pastors. I have found out that we do need one another. Everybody needs a little help to get their lives together. As the scripture says, “that they without us are not made perfect” (Hebrews 11:40). This means that no one can be perfect or as great as he should be without others.

If the bible says so, then it is so! You cannot be made perfect unless you depend on someone else. Most people are glad that they are independent of others. Most people do not want to follow or depend on other people. To be dependent is to be humble.

God wants us to depend on Him and on one another. When you accept that you depend on others, you are being humble. When this humility is deep in your soul, you will embrace the reality of your dependence. Then you will run towards the people that God has determined that you must depend on. It is God who has determined that we should depend on others. Will you accept this? If you do, you are being humble. If you are being humble then you will be lifted up soon. A child shamelessly calls out for his mother or his father. You will hear him shouting, “Mummy, Mummy, Mummy.” You will hear him shouting, “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy.” A child shamelessly asks for help when bathing or using the toilet. A child shamelessly asks for help, for food or for money. Every child automatically depends on his parents without thinking. They know they need their parents. They depend on their parents and they accept it.

When you have the humility of a child, you will know in your heart that you depend on God. When you have the humility of a child you will know in your heart that you depend on certain people in this life.

When the spirit of humility is gone, you will start to declare your independence from people around you. You will think to yourself, “I don’t need you any more.” You may look at your wife and think to yourself, “I don’t need her anymore.” When the spirit of pride is upon you, you may look at your husband and say to yourself, “I don’t need you any more. I am ok without you. After all, what do you really do for me?” These are dangerous thoughts. They are thoughts that are born out of pride. When the spirit of pride is upon a minister, he thinks to himself, “I don’t need my spiritual father anymore!” He may say, “I don’t need that helper anymore. I can do everything on my own.”

You must be very careful about the thoughts you have. Thinking that you don’t need anybody to help you is a terrible sign of pride. The prouder you are the more you show that you don’t need anyone. A pastor once told me, “ I don’t need you and you don’t need me”! But that is an arrogant statement! The bible says, “that they without us should not be made perfect.” We all need each other to be made perfect in ministry.

by Dag Heward-Mills

[wlreports-blog]

Sanjay Kumar, CEO & MD, Elior India - India's Transformational Leaders 2019

Sanjay Kumar, CEO & MD, Elior India - India's Transformational Leaders 2019

Over the years, my experience across different industry sectors such as Consumer Durables, Oil and Gas, Technology and Food services has tremendously impacted the decisions I make today.

  My decision-making process has been largely influenced by a few key elements. To begin with, one must identify the type of the market, then go on to pinpoint the areas of operation in said market. Developing an understanding of the working of the organisation and its culture is vital. Next, a strategy should be created for marketing the product or service. One must also develop a keen understanding of the target audience, what they require, and then come up with a clear cut procedure on how to sell the product while keeping in mind the resource needs for both people and capital. An accomplishment that you consider to be the most significant in your career? My career revolves around driving two key business factors- turning around existing businesses, and setting up new businesses. Personally, I think convincing the Elior board to invest in India, and then being able to fully set up the business in India, is one of my proudest achievements. Since this was Elior’s first entry into India, I had to identify suitable acquisition targets. Most of these acquisitions were completed as scheduled and integration was planned as per the submissions to the shareholders. Over the next 2 years, the business objectives required for the market entry was achieved. This is quite rare since it is difficult for large companies to achieve their market entry objectives in India due to the existence of various complexities. Therefore, given the difficult nature of the market, it was quite challenging to convince a 7 billion dollar French conglomerate company to invest in India through acquisition driven strategies, and then grow the business to meet the shareholders’ objectives and deliver the returns expected by them. How do you integrate corporate philanthropy or corporate social responsibility as a part of your business strategies? The Elior Group and I believe that corporate social responsibility in our business should be sustainable as well as a contributing factor to the society and the environment that we operate in. The key drivers for us in India has been to reduce food wastage and to ensure that the practices we follow in the process of procurement and production are the best in the country. While our peers in the industry follow a different strategy when it comes to procuring agricultural produce, at Elior we follow sustainable methods to gather agricultural produce. In regard to reducing food wastage, we pride ourselves in having the technology and processes to monitor as well as consistently predict consumption levels that help reduce the wastage created due to improper planning and forecasting.

Sanjay Kumar, CEO & MD, Elior India - India's Transformational Leaders 2019 What has been your driving force or philosophy in life? To give everything that you do, your best. So, if something unexpected happens, you won’t have to look back or think “I could have tried harder.” What are the other philanthropic works you are involved in? On a personal level, I support a very commendable and charitable organisation called Sarva Shiksha Abhiyan. It is involved with the education of poor children in the tribal areas of Madhya Pradesh and Rajasthan. How do you define success and how do you measure up to your own definition? Success is the ability to cope with failure. I try to measure up to this by living through my failures just as I have been able to celebrate my successes. We are constantly making things better faster smarter and less expensive. In other words, we strive to do more with less. Tell us about a recent project or solution that you have made that is smarter and faster or less expensive. There are several initiatives being implemented in our enterprise in relevance to that category. Our entire human resource and attendance tracking system for four thousand employees are on a biometric system which is linked to a human resource management system. This allows us to process payroll without any human intervention or manual attendance keeping. The second initiative that we have introduced is the first of its kind in the food services industry.  We have developed our very own technology platform that allows our guests to view the menus online, make selections and place their orders. This has reduced confusion and order misplacements drastically. It also helps us understand consumer tastes and preferences better; allowing us to tailor our menus to suit the palate of different consumers and thereby reduce wastage. Through this technology, we have been able to predict the amount of consumption more accurately. We can also create diverse menus digitally, which has enabled consistency in the recipes we create. This will also ensure that consumers get the value for the price they pay. In addition, this technology is linked to our backend inventory management system that enables us to reduce the likelihood of perishable items that we hold in the inventory. What is the most significant aspect of leadership? I think that the ability to deal with failure is the most important aspect for any leader. A leader has to accept that they cannot be right all the time. Your perception of an empowered society, how far can your organisation contribute to the same? An empowered society, to me, is one that recognises the rights of all its members. I think there is an evolution underway currently in the foodservice industry. An evolution in which more importance and recognition is being given to the rights of consumers, the rights of service providers and, most importantly, the rights to all those who help produce the raw materials. Farmers need to be respected and understood as a crucial part of the food production industry. They act as sustenance to the well-being of all the other aspects within the industry. One thing that you want to change and one thing you want to retain in your industry The one thing I would want to change in the industry is its attitude towards safety, which lacks in comparison to most other developing and developed markets. The one thing I would wish to retain is the importance we give to fresh food. In India, we love to eat our food fresh. So, food continues to be made and consumed on the same day which drastically reduces our dependence on frozen food in comparison to the western world. One thing you have to let go as an entrepreneur or leader? Ans: The thought that “I have the ability to control all the events around me.” Whom do you owe your success to? Well, there is a list of leaders whom I looked up to right from the beginning. To name a few-  S.L Ghoklani, former managing director of Eureka Forbes, is somebody who I learned a lot from.  Next would be Shell, who has an inspirational leader called Bruce Rosengarten. Then, there is Harry Brecklemans, who was one of my supervisors in a strategy driven endeavour I pursued in the recent past. I dedicate my growth as a leader to Phillipe Salle, who was the previous CEO of Altran. I also owe it to my current supervisor – Phillipe Guillemot, Elior Group CEO whose extraordinary leadership in following and ensuring that the processes, the focus, and the governance is in line with the best organisations of the world. The best thing about your job Every day is different. A message from you to all the future entrepreneur and leaders The earlier you prepare for failure, the better are your chances of success. About Sanjay Kumar MD and CEO of Elior India, a subsidiary of France based Elior Group and India’s largest standalone food services company. With over 4000 employees, Elior India serves over 1.5 lakhs freshly prepared meals every day to Fortune 500 and Multinational companies. The company, under Sanjay’s leadership, has won 3 major awards – Most Innovative Product/Service of the Year by Indo-French Business Awards 2018, The Extraordinaire Brand by Brand Vision Summit, and Best Caterer of the Year by Asia Food Congress & Awards 2019. Sanjay is responsible for Elior’s entrance into the Indian market. He led the high-profile acquisition of Megabite Food Services and CRCL. His core expertise is in setting up new businesses and pushing multinational corporation market entries or expansions in India. In 6 years, he has completed 7 acquisitions, which includes a mix of asset deals, joint ventures, and share purchases in existing entities. With an MBA in Marketing from IRMA, Sanjay started his career as a Management Trainee at Marico Industries Ltd., where he designed a commodity procurement system to save on sourcing costs. Prior to joining Elior, he was the MD and CEO of Altran Companies, India. He was responsible for growing the company, 4 successful acquisitions and for turning around the company from a loss-making enterprise to being one of the three most profitable companies within the group. Prior to Altran, Sanjay was a part of the Royal Dutch Shell Group for over 18 years. He was also a member of the Global Leadership Team that reported to the CEO and board of Royal Dutch Shell. Read the full article