#she's brave but she's not great at plans nor keeping track of details and considering all the options

[tvrningout-archived]

yes i still need to reread n.aruto to get a handle on my verses but that doesn't stop me from thinking about how chiyo naturally falls into a leadership role within her team bc whether no one else steps up or the person who does step up has a bad plan, she'll speak up. she doesn't shy from taking charge nor from sharing her thoughts. why would she when chiyo knows what she's doing? but it's kinda funny bc chiyo won't call herself the leader if someone were to ask. in her mind, she's just good at strategy, so people listen to her. a leader is more than a good strategist.

which is true! but the thing is that chiyo isn't only a good strategist. she mediates when things get sour between her teammates; she pays attention to how they can improve and how they're doing; she prioritizes their safety over her own; she feels responsible if one of them gets hurt; she cares for her team, pushes them, and takes responsibility for them.

people don't listen to her just bc she's good at strategy but bc she's good at leading.

chiyo doesn't like to hear it or discuss it, though. at least not in her younger years. it's silly, but it's like talking about it, beginning to accept it, will jinx it, and honestly! it's a scary thought to be responsible for other people. even if she naturally steps into a leadership position, chiyo doesn't want to think too much what that entails and simply focus on their tasks for the time being.

[fableweaver]

Arc of the Bastard Mage

*Back on track

She sat under the shade of a sycamore tree, the summer shade dappled and the tree whispered with the wind. In her lap sat a flute carven of green stone, intricate work that made it a master piece. As she gazed at it she felt a longing for something she couldn’t quite grasp.

“Grandmother Rane,” she turned and looked down at a young child at her side. He was Aldan his ears pointed and hair a pale blonde. His face and features were so youthful he almost seemed to glow with it. His bright indigo eyes burned with color, like the twilight sky.

“Absalom,” she said kindly. “Do you know what this is?”

She handed over the flute to the child who took it with reverence though no obvious idea of what it truly was. He was her grandson, her future and the future of her kin. She could see his power in his eyes; his spirit was strong and burned almost as brightly as her own.

“No,” he answered puzzled.

“It is a singing stone,” Rane said kindly to him. “It can call back our lost kin, the Phay to this world.”

“Can I keep it?” he asked excited. Sadly she took back from him shaking her head.

“The outlanders are growing in power,” Rane said sadly. “Your great uncle Rena my twin is taking it to our long distant kin They Who Delve Deep. There the stone will be safe until the world is ready once more for the Phay to return.”

“When will they march?” Absalom asked with the solemn eyes of a child.

“I fear not for a long time,” she answered wearily. “Miread is in much turmoil and I do not foresee a time where peace will reign.”

“Then I will make peace,” Absalom said. “So that the Phay will return.”

She smiled at him, the smile of an adult indulging a child in his fantasies. Absalom then took the flute to his lips and began to play broken notes with no melody. She fell asleep to the garbled notes and the rustling leaves of the Deep Woods.  

Xavier woke to the sound of gurgling and dripping water. For a moment he could not remember where he was, lost a moment in the dream. It came back slowly and he woke enough to sit up. The cavern was a natural hollow formed by the tides, there was only one way in or out through the pool of water at the far end. At the moment the cave was dark except for the slight glow from the mage children.

Xavier stood and knelt next to the children, all asleep in a big pile on the large carpet. In the middle lay Martel, her ambient glow just a bit brighter. Xavier had never thought a mage capable of such power; she had saved his life with a miracle. He still felt a mix of guilt and pride at the thought of her saving his life; and he decided to let pride rule over guilt. Not that he had much to do with it, but he felt proud of her.

A soft splash of water drew his attention and Xavier turned to see Keone floating in the pool. He stood and walked over, but dared not brave the icy water. Keone swam up and he pulled her up on to the rocky lip over the water.

“I have brought food,” Keone said producing the bucket he had given her to collect muscles. “Do I get a kiss?”

“Of course,” Xavier said used to the ritual now. He gave her a kiss on the lips, neither small nor overly long. She smiled winningly all the same and he wondered at her for a moment. “Keone, do you love me?”

“Of course!” she laughed.

“Only me?” Xavier asked.

“No, I love many others,” Keone said with a grin. “There is Akoni, he is of my kind, and Kaleo, he is a sailfish that I had relations with just a few tides ago. And then…”

“Alright I get it,” Xavier said, deciding not to ask how she had gotten along with Kaleo. “But you keep coming back to me.”

“You are fun Xavier,” Keone said. “But I never abandon those I love. I go to Akoni tomorrow we are to swim in moon beams under the sea. You do not grow heartsick over this do you? Lokelani says that human men can be strange with love.”

“No Keone I’m alright,” Xavier said. “I just didn’t know Merrow women were so free with their love. I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“Thank you,” Keone said beaming. “You always say nice things Xavier.”

She gave him another kiss and slipped back into the water. Xavier could only shake his head as he walked back to the little camp they had made. It was little different than the one they had in the roost, except a bit more damp and dark. Xavier walked past several gnomes, ignoring the little creatures as they ignored him.

He drew a fire sigil in the fire pit; they had no wood in the cave, and set the bucket of muscles over the sigil to cook. He sat back on his heels as he waited, staring at nothing lost in thought. His dream lingered at the edge of his memory; he knew it had been something important, something he needed to recall.

“Xavier?” the sound of his name broke his concentration and he turned to see Lycus awake. He had healed from his broken bones and cut and once again moved with the ease of youth. He detangled himself from the other children, pulled on his tunic and joined Xavier by the cooking muscles.

“Did you sleep well?” Xavier asked and Lycus nodded.

“You?” Lycus asked.

“I dreamed, but I can’t remember it,” Xavier answered.

“Was it a nightmare?” Lycus asked.

“No, I’ve had plenty of those,” Xavier said lowly. “This one I want to remember.”

“Can you remember any details?” Lycus asked. Xavier tried to think of anything from the dream, concentrating on the feelings he had.

“Trees, I think I was in a forest but…” Xavier trailed off, his breathing coming heavier. “I’ve never been in…”

Details started to surface, the sound of the wind through the canopy of leaves, the smell of the loamy soil, and two solemn indigo eyes looking up at him. He had called him something, Grandmother Rane.

“Rane!” Xavier said remembering something else suddenly at the name.

“What?” Lycus asked.

“Rane, She Breathes Deep,” Xavier answered. “She was Absalom’s grandmother. When I was in Myr a while ago I was in the Tower of Balal, the greatest library in the kingdoms. I was just browsing the books, but one had been her journal. She mentioned a treasure, a song, passed down through her family by their ancestor Eileen. She wrote that her brother took the song to the Dwarves in the northern mountains.”

“So the song is there?” Lycus said.

“Maybe,” Xavier said shaking his head. “That was centuries ago, over seven hundred years since it was before the Kingdoms formed. But my guess is the song resided in Alda until that time, Rane sending it away with her twin brother to the mountains. Only I don’t know if it reached it there. The Cursed Age of the kingdoms was a chaotic and dangerous time; it could be that he never reached the mountains.”

“So what are you going to do?” Lycus asked.

“Continue dreaming,” Xavier said. “That dream I had, I was Rane. I think she is one of Eileen’s incarnations. If that is true then that means that I just gained a memory from one of my past lives. Not only that but Rane had contact with the song after all that time. Kalyani said that I will be drawn to the song. I bet that I’ve encountered it through my past lives, and so if I gain those memories back I can find out where it has been and where it might be.”

“Does that mean we won’t be going to Myr?” Lycus asked and Xavier looked at him to see the boy looking disappointed.

“No, the opposite,” Xavier answered. “It means we are definitely going to Myr. I found one clue there but it is centuries old. We need more recent information, and we may find that in the Tower of Balal. My memories tell me some but not enough.”

“But what if the song did make it to the dwarves?” Lycus asked.

“I’ll tell Kalyani to send griffins to the northern mountains,” Xavier answered.

“Kalyani is outcast like the others,” Lycus said.

After the fight that had nearly claimed his life they had barely escaped with the aid of the griffins that were sympathetic to the mage children. Unfortunately, none of the Elect were among them. Kalyani and the group of Griffins, Raja, Shankar, Vasu, and Kavi along with ten other griffins had been declared outcasts by the Elect. Kalyani had told Xavier that Anik had lived but he would never fly again, a terrible blow for any griffin. The Long Talons were debating on choosing their new leader since Anik was too injured to lead them.

Kalyani had managed to get them to this sheltered sea cave a few leagues away from the Broken Isle, and with the help of the Merrow they had food at least through the winter. The outcast griffins, now calling themselves the Wild Braves as if they were a new clan though they were a mix of all the types of griffins, were roosting on the island above them. There was little shelter there as it was a windswept bare rock, but Kalyani said they could endure it for the winter. Xavier and the mage children however could not, so they had taken shelter in the submerged cavern the Merrow had found for them.

“Kalyani said that Yama has at least met with her on occasion,” Xavier said. “I’m sure she can get him to at least consider sending griffins to the mainland and investigate the mountains.

“Once the winter storms are over Kalyani assures me she and the other griffins can fly us to Myr. Then you’ll get to see what has become of the mages.”

“What then?” Lycus asked and Xavier hesitated. “Xavier you’re our savoir and guardian, but we deserve to know what you have planned for us.”

“I wasn’t planning on staying in Myr,” Xavier answered. “I have enemies there and if they caught me death would be a mercy. So, we won’t be able to stay there long.”

“You can’t stay there long,” Lycus said. “But what about us?”

Xavier looked at him in the eye to see his red eyes burning.

“If I could leave you with a mage family that would adopt you and love you as all of you deserve I would,” Xavier said. “And I am sure such a family exists, one that wouldn’t be seeking elevation simply because of your power. But Lycus I don’t know who they are. There is no way to be sure I’d be leaving all of you in good hands. Only time would tell me that and time is something I don’t have the luxury of.

“After Myr I was planning on going to Alda where my father’s people live. They will take you in if I ask it of them, and there I am sure you can at least be safe until the world gets its footing again.”

“Why?” Lycus asked bitterly. “Why do you trust the Aldan more than the Dridians? You said you’ve never met them.”

“That is probably why,” Xavier said with a sad smile. “I know the mages all too well and what they are capable of. I could leave you with a kind family, but most likely it would not be a powerful family. Once other mages learn of your power they will all want one of you for their own. Not because they love you for who you are, but because you can sire children of power and elevate their house in political standing. Those powerful ones, the cruel ones, will take you from the kind ones. I’ve lived in a cruel house; you do not want that Lycus.”

“And the Aldan won’t do that?” Lycus asked, but some of the sting was out of his words.

“No, because they don’t seek power like the mages,” Xavier answered. “In all sense of the word, they don’t seek power in the High Magic, in the Elder Magic, or in any political power play. They have withdrawn from the world into their forest. I know you won’t be fully accepted there; I’ve heard that the Aldan have only been accepting to other Aldan. But they won’t abuse you like the mages will.

“It isn’t forever Lycus, once the Phay march and the kingdoms are stable again you can go wherever you please.”

“The world will never be stable Xavier,” Lycus said cynically. “It will never be safe, and you know that.”

“You’re right,” Xavier said after a moment. “Fine, then once you reach eighteen you can go where you please. The same for the other children. But no matter what age you are you can come and ask me for help any time you need it.”

“Then you can do the same with us,” Lycus said with a grin.

“Thanks,” Xavier said dryly and Lycus chuckled. “About the Phay marching, what do you think of that?”

His chuckle died and Lycus grew pensive again, he was thinking seriously but Xavier sensed he wasn’t displeased.

“I don’t remember the island at all,” Lycus said. “Martel said she hardly remembers it anymore either. I just remember the adults always being afraid and sad. I never actually saw Atlas, but my mother told me terrible stories about him and the monsters he made. So, when we were alone, trapped with the monsters our parents told us stories about, I was afraid.

“Then you came and said they weren’t monsters. I could see it too, how Kavi was like us just as scared but trying not to show it. It was like all the stories evaporated for me, all the terror of those unknown monsters, and I was free. To us they were the unknown dark terrors of the night, but then you brought them into the light and we saw they were nothing but big kittens. I’ve never experience anything so wondrous before, even the High Magic couldn’t compare.

“So now you’re telling me there are just as many new and different creatures waiting to come back to the world? I can’t wait. I’m no longer afraid of them because I know all I have to do is get to know them and they won’t be scary anymore.”

Xavier stared at Lycus feeling over whelming pride and a sense of accomplishment then.

“I did that?” Xavier asked.

“You did,” Lycus said smiling at him. “And I hope I grow up to be like you someday.”

Xavier felt a blush at that and turned to the bucket of muscles which was boiling now. He took it off the sigil, busying himself with the task to hide his embarrassment. Lycus had started to turn to wake the others but Xavier stopped him.

“Lycus,” Xavier said and the boy turned to look at him. “You’re a far better man than me. Thank you.”

Now Lycus blushed and he nodded to him as he went and woke the others. The children woke and joined Xavier by the fire sigil to eat. Xavier finished his meager share first and stood.

“Where are you going?” Martel asked.

“Out to talk to Kalyani,” Xavier said. “And to look at the weather.”

Martel nodded as he left, though she looked like she wanted to follow. Xavier noticed Lycus lean close to her then, her light getting a bit brighter as he got close to her. Xavier smiled a bit, leaving Lycus to fill her in on their conversation.

He walked to the pool and slid in, gasping as the cold water closed over him. He didn’t bother undressing, he had stripped his work clothes of the mage enchantments. He dove under the water and swam for the light he could see. Just before he could surface he saw someone waving at him. Xavier looked to see Keone in her Merrow form, her great green tail making her move fluidly in the water. Next to her was a male Merrow, Akoni Xavier guessed.

The two waved at him before circling each other and swimming off into the dark water, Keone chasing Akoni. Xavier shook his head and surfaced, gasping for air. He pulled himself out of the surf and onto the rocky island. The island was bare of even trees, a great finger of rock reaching up towards the sun. In the lee of this finger Kalyani and the other griffins had taken shelter.

They had made about five big nests with rocks and other debris in which they could curl up and sleep together. This offered them some protection from the sea winds, but it wasn’t meant to be a permanent place for them. Xavier cast a sigil to dry his clothes; glad he had learned the sigil from the books they had gotten from the mage ship. He walked towards the griffin camp only to duck quickly as a shape came hurtling at him from the air.

“Xavier!” Kavi screeched as he landed in a gangly pile of limbs before righting himself. “Good morning!”

“Good morning Kavi,” Xavier said used to the young griffin’s enthusiastic greetings. If Kavi was bothered by being exiled he didn’t show it, though his parents had stayed behind in the roost. “Is Kalyani awake?”

“She is,” Kavi said following Xavier. Kalyani had become Elect now of the Wild Braves, though she seemed to dislike becoming leader. Their band was almost evenly dispersed with two of each from the clans of the Griffins accept the Long Talons of which there were three. Raja had been joined by a couple, Nila and Jaidev. Nila was a sea eagle breed with a great large beak, unlike Raja and Jaidev who were both crowned eagles.

Besides Kavi there was an older Feather Tail Griffin by the name of Nagendra, he was a serpent killer so Kalyani had told him and revered warrior of the Griffins. Vasu had been joined by a female Griffin called Sati who was a peregrine falcon mix. Kalyani was joined by a Bone Eater called Reva. Reva was a condor griffin, her head covered in fine gray fuzz that made her look older than she really was. Shankar was joined by Durai, a snowy owl griffin whose entire body was white except for the black spots covering his wings and coat.

There were two Wise Wing Griffins, Rishi and Arjun, two brothers who were the oldest ones here according to Kalyani. The two Marked One Griffins were unrelated, Esha and Lila, but both were young females that had latched onto Kavi as their plaything. Esha was a goshawk while Lila was a sparrow hawk, both stripped as was their kind. Xavier wondered if the Griffins could breed between their tribes, he hadn’t seen any couples that were not of the same tribe.

He walked up to Kalyani’s nest and ignored Esha and Lila as they squealed and pounced towards Kavi. Kavi fled with his ears against his head and tail feathers tucked in, the two females in hot pursuit. Kalyani only shook her head at their antics.

“Good morning,” Kalyani said as she stood and stretched like a cat.

“It looks like it,” Xavier said looking to the sky. The day was clear; they had been storm free for almost a week now as spring was starting to take hold slowly over the northern sea. It was just after the equinox, a day of power so Kalyani said thought they hadn’t celebrated given their current residence.

“We will be ready to fly soon,” Kalyani said following his gaze to the sky.

“About that,” Xavier said and related to her his dream. “I’d like to travel to the dwarves to see if they have the song but I doubt it made it through the kingdoms. All the same contact should be made again between the Phay that are still here in Miread. I was hoping you’d have a word with Yama about this.”

“I would and I am sure he would listen,” Kalyani said. “But the other Elect will not listen to him. They know he has been talking to me. As an Elect he has this right to choose to talk to us, but he has said he has lost some of his voice in council when it comes to us.”

“I see,” Xavier said frustrated.

“Anik has recovered from his wounds but he will not fly again,” Kalyani said. “I fear Mahavir has been chosen as his replacement. He was one of the Griffins in the front lines against the ghost people; he lost an eye to one of their spells before he killed seven of them. He makes Anik seem levelheaded when it comes to the ghost people.”

“Do you think he was one of the Griffins that attacked Martel and Lycus?” Xavier asked.

“He was seen with a wound on his left shoulder after the attacks, so Yama told me,” Kalyani said gravely. Xavier seethed with rage, but quickly suppressed it. It was that rage that had nearly killed not only him, but his comrades as well. He had to learn to control his temper, he didn’t mind if it led to his death, but he had more lives to consider now than just his own.

“No doubt he has ordered a hunt for us,” Xavier said.

“Yama and Indira have managed to stave that off,” Kalyani said reassuringly. “But their blood is high for a fight now.”

“All the better reason to get them focused on something else like going to the dwarves,” Xavier said. “If only they would listen.”

“They may listen to you,” Kalyani said, and Xavier looked at her surprised.

“After what I did, they would want to eat my liver,” Xavier said.

“Martel interfered and broke the sacred law of battle,” Kalyani said. “A good thing she did, and I do not fault her for it. She is not a warrior but a healer, and it is the duty of healers to stop the bloodshed. You fought valiantly and the Griffins still hold some respect and awe of you. They won’t attack you on sight, and you might get a few words in through their thick skulls.”

Xavier wasn’t sure he wanted the respect of the Griffins, yet he felt a glow of pride at the thought.

“Alright you win,” Xavier said. “It will give me the chance to stretch my wings.”

“Want me to come along?” Kalyani asked.

“No, all of you have been declared exiles,” Xavier said. “The punishment of your return is death if I recall. I wasn’t charged with anything.”

“Only because you are Eileen and of a different kin of the Phay,” Kalyani said gravely. “Just because I said they won’t attack you on sight doesn’t mean this is a safe trip.”

“I know that Kalyani,” Xavier said. “I’ll be careful don’t worry.”

Kalyani’s ears flattened against her head and her eyes narrowed, her tail lashing showing her irritation. Before she could say more Xavier stepped away and let the aether wash over him. In the months of their winter exile Xavier had learned the Elder Magic at a frightening pace, the aether came to him so naturally it was like breathing.

In a matter of heartbeats, he had woven a skin of aether, picturing a bird form. He stepped into the skin and found himself in the skin of a giant osprey, three times the size of an ordinary osprey. Kalyani snorted unimpressed as Xavier took to the air. He lacked the natural elegance granted by a creature that lived its entire life in one form, but he took to the sky just fine. The skin had its own natural rhythms which Xavier had learned to listen to in order to control the body he wore.

He flew out over the sea, turning north. It was a short flight, only an hour, to the Broken Isle. The Griffins seemed to tolerate this distance, only because they knew the exiles would soon leave when the winter had passed. Xavier flew over the isle getting the literal bird’s eyes view of it. His vision had improved with the skin and he could see with the distance of an eagle’s vision. Looking down into the bowels of the roost he could see the Elect had gathered.

Unable to resist the dramatic entrance and the chance to ruffle the feathers of the Elect, Xavier dove. He dropped like a stone, his heart racing as the ground rose towards him at an alarming rate. He dove through the roost entrance and startled several flying griffins, aiming for the conclave of the Elect. A meeting had gathered, a number of griffins gathered around the Elect.

Xavier spread his wings, when his decent had slowed enough and he was close to the ground he stripped off the bird skin, landing gracefully in the middle of the meeting. The Elect cried out in surprise, wings flaring and heads turning at his sudden appearance. Xavier stood calmly regarding the Elect; his arms crossed over his chest.

“Xavier!” Jaya said flaring her wings. “Do not just charge into our meetings!”  

“Easy Jaya,” Indira said calmly and looked at Xavier. “So what has brought you here Xavier?”

“Do not think you are welcome here,” Mahavir said snidely. Xavier looked at the griffin, he was bulky and muscular, his one eye his distinguishing feature. “We only tolerate your presence among us because you are the only one to help our kin march.”

“Eat horse shit you over stuffed turkey,” Xavier growled and Mahavir stared at him agape. “I came here to tell you I had a dream of one of my past lives. In it I saw the song, it was being sent to the dwarves in the Weir Mountains.”

“Then go get it,” Mahavir said flaring his wings.

“What Mahavir is saying is that now you know the location of the song you must go find it,” Indira said smoothly.

“I know what he was saying,” Xavier said still glaring at Mahavir who glared right back at him. “I do not know however that the song is there. My dream happened centuries ago and in a time of political upheaval for the lands of men. There is no guarantee that the song reached the dwarves. I feel I must continue to try and regain more of my memories to see if I can locate the song more accurately. Or if that fails to search through records and legends of men and gage what they know of the song.”

“Very little I would doubt,” Mahavir answered.

“And you who are Phay don’t know anything,” Xavier said his voice rising.

“WE were sealed away for millennia because of those ghost people!” Mahavir shouted.

“Enough,” Yama said in a papery voice, waving his great wing in a gentle sweep as if clearing away unwanted dust. “I tire of this bickering. What did you come here to say Xavier?”

“That I think it wise you go to the Weir Mountains and make contact with your kin the dwarves,” Xavier said. “You’ve gotten together with the Merrow and Selkie, but they are not able to travel inland like you can. The Phay will need to stand together if they are to aid the Elder Phay in the march. Checking on the status of the dwarves is imperative.”

Silence reigned for a moment, only broken by the slight slap of Mahavir’s tail against his stone perch. At last Manisha spoke.

“We will take your recommendation to heart and bring it to the Merrow and Selkies for their consideration as well. Until a decision is made we will stay here.”

“That is at least something,” Xavier said frustrated, but knowing that was all he was going to get from them. “But don’t spend too long making up your minds about it. I thought you were warriors, those who charge ahead into battle instead of sitting around in laziness.”

Mahavir lost his temper then, hissing viscously and leaping to his feet. Xavier stepped into his bird skin before Mahavir could pounce on him, taking to the sky. Thankfully Mahavir did not follow; Xavier feared what a griffin could do to him in the air. He flew up into the sky feeling free in the sea wind. He caught a thermal and floated there among the sylphs who rode the wind like he did.

He flew to the mage ship then; the craft was still trapped as it had been since he had first seen it. They had long since taken what they could from the ship, but Xavier knew there were still many more enchanted objects and books that needed to be preserved. The enchantments on the ship that he had renewed would work to preserve them, now all he needed to do was protect the ship from the griffins.

They had yet to try and cause harm to it, probably because they were unaware of any of the power that resided in it. If they ever learned of that power, or if Mahavir chose to act petty in light of Xavier’s taunts, they would use their wings to tear away the sigils that protected the ship. Since Xavier could not use the High Magic to seal the ship, he decided to set and Elder Magic ward.

Warding seemed to be the one device the two magicks had in common. High Magic often had seals to keep something in just as much as wards to keep something out; Elder Magic had the same principle. Warding in the Elder Magic however was much different than the High Magic. Setting a protective ward in the High Magic was easy. A mage drew the power to them, wove it into a sigil, and set it around what they sought to protect. Most sigils worked that way; it was the lettering and formula of the sigil that determined what the sigil was meant to do. Once a Mage knew and learned a certain sigil and its formula they could form it. Errors would result in the sigil failing to work, or in some cases the power to explode out of it.

Xavier had learned with the Elder Magic that the act of commanding the power itself was different for not only every art, but every undertaking of an act of casting. So flying around the ship now he had to be creative in how to set a ward around the ship. Most wards of the Elder Magic needed to be anchored to the earth; this made them stable and resilient to the passage of time. That wouldn’t work here since the ship was exposed to mostly the sea and wind.

Soaring around the ship Xavier had an idea then, the wind. There were many rituals to forming wards of the Elder Magic, in order to form the aether to a specific purpose a caster had to perform a ritual to set their mind in the right order. The aether would then take on the will and intent of the caster, protecting what they desired to protect. Wards of both magicks could be made to let some elements in and keep some elements out, or they could be entirely exclusive. The High Magic did this with lettering, the Elder Magic did this with ritual.

So Xavier began the ritual of one ward of a high level of protection. If he were on the ground he would have started by drawing a circle which was the basic ritual for all wards. Since he could not draw the circle he began by circling above the ship. He set his mind to the ship he was protecting, those he was defending it against, but most of all he set his mind and will to the wind.

The Wild Kin were simply spirits that had manifested out of particularly powerful elemental lore of earth, wind, water, or fire. There were still the basic powers of the elements that could be tapped into and commanded by a witch with Elder Magic with the control of the aether. Xavier let the aether flow into him and empower his will to command the winds.

The winds were slow to answer; they were strong here over the sea and open air. It took Xavier ten cycles to get them under his control and set in the ward, but at last it was complete. He flew back to observe his work. Though little could be seen he could sense the change in the air as the winds blew about, nothing was going to be able to fly to the ship now. Sylphs also floated on those winds; their eyes sharp as they rode the circular path that Xavier had made.

Earth wards depended on walls often, but sometimes they depended on the very vibrations of the ground to deter people and animals from entering the ward. The wind now blew to keep any flying creature away, much like a wall of wind.

Xavier nodded satisfied and turned his beak back towards their refuge. He arrived back to find not much had changed, other than the time of day.

“How did it go?” Kalyani asked and Xavier told her after he stripped off the bird skin. He couldn’t talk in animal form, though he had learned to understand certain animals when they spoke.

“Good, I also set a ward around the mage ship, using the wind,” Xavier said.

“A ward set in anything, but the earth is impressive,” Kalyani said. “I’ve only seen such things from when the Phay were in high power. You are improving.”

“Yes, but at what benefit?” Xavier asked. “I still can’t sense the song, and what good have I done with this power? Every time encounter a battle, I resort to my fists instead of the power inside of me.”

“Maybe that is because Eileen was never a warrior,” Kalyani answered. “You have been formed into it through your life, but maybe in all your past lives you had a peaceful existence. That is why it is hard for you to use your powers in combat, because the nature that it is drawn from only has the experience of peace and healing. This is not a bad thing Xavier; this power could be misused greatly. I believe you are wise enough to know that.”

He only sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

A few days later had seen enough clear skies and warm winds that they decided it was time to set to wing and head for the coast. The mage children were brought out of the cave with the help of the Merrow, as well as their things wrapped in sigils to protect them from getting wet. When they had first decided to fly to the mainland, they had been presented with the problem of how to go about it.

They had tried a griffin towing a magic carpet behind them, but this resulted in Xavier being thrown off the carpet and having to transform midair into a bird. It had actually been his first time managing the transformation, he offered nothing but sympathy to the Griffins who were sometimes taught to fly by being tossed off cliffs.

Xavier had turned to the one material the mage ship had in plenty, sail cloth. He was amazed at the sigils woven into the great swaths of canvas, sigils of wind and speed. They were sails that had carried ships across oceans no one thought capable of crossing. He had thought of trying to make a ship or maybe a kite out of the material, but multiple experiments soon yielded the same results as the magic carpets.  

So, then they had tried harnesses made from leather straps gathered from the mage ship. This worked, but the Griffin’s feathers ruined any of the sigils the children wore. Since they needed a lot of the magical items that they wanted to bring they were left with the problem of how to transport them. Xavier found that when wearing his bird skin, he had a similar effect on sigils as a Griffin’s feathers, but not as strong. The touch of the skin of aether often caused the sigil to become corrupt, no longer functioning as it needed to or even ruining it beyond repair. Even sigils covered by something else that wasn’t enchanted, like canvas or leather, were corrupted or ruined.

To everyone’s surprise an old cooking pot had proven the solution. Xavier had brought back the pot to use for their usual meals. One day while cooking above ground as she sometimes did, Martel had shouted at Kavi to be careful of the fire sigil she had drawn to boil water. Kavi’s wing had brushed the pot and sigil under it, but the sigil had remained intact and Kavi’s feathers unharmed.

It turned out that iron was the solution. A sigil protected by iron could not be cut, damaged, or corrupted though Xavier had no idea why. So, he had the children melt down cook pots gathered from the mage ship using sigils, and then he forged them using tools from the ship as well. He made them into thin plates which the children then stitched into the lining of canvas bags.

The bags were attached to the harnesses they had made for the Griffins and filled with the books and other enchanted objects. They had to experiment a little with the weight and were forced to return some things to the mage ship when there wasn’t enough room for it all.

Xavier now stood out in the open sea air looking over the rag-tag group that he had somehow found himself in command of. Fifteen Griffins and thirteen mage children looked back at him. Some looked at him with hope, some with the simple trust of their young lives, some with admiration, some with interest, and some with the simple affection of friendship. Xavier smiled at them, feeling suddenly like a family with all of them.

“We are lost exiles,” Xavier said. “Our choices have brought some of us here, and some the choices of others. But we are here together joined by the desire to help those that need us and do what needs to be done to protect the world we live in. So as one, let us fly.”

With that he pulled on his bird form and leapt for the sky. Though he was a much smaller creature than the Griffins they followed him reverently and respectfully. They flew in a double skein, Xavier in the lead for a while until Kalyani took over as the lead wind breakers for the rest.

Xavier soared along with the other Griffins, feeling small in comparison to them. Yet it was much easier to fly in their wake, a boon to one who was not born to the wind. He wove between the Griffins checking on the children clinging to their backs. The children lay prone and strapped into the Griffins, yet all seemed to be enjoying themselves. Kavi and Nagendra were the only ones without passengers since they were the smallest, they just carried packs. Martel rode on Kalyani and Lycus on Raja, they had worked out which Griffin should carry which child by weight.

They flew for the whole day, Xavier flying between the griffins to make sure the mage children were all safe on their perches. They stopped for the night on an island little better than a spit of rock with a sandbar. The night was uncomfortable and in the morning,  spirits weren’t as high as when they had left. They flew for five days over the ocean, stopping at islands or rocks when they could. The fourth day saw no island and they were forced to fly on through the night, Shankar and Durai taking the lead through the night.

Dawn rose on the fifth day and on the horizon spread the dark line of land. The griffins all let out a cheer of relief at the sight and raggedly they flew for the coast. They landed on rocky cliffs among wind swept rough grass, Xavier quickly shedding his osprey skin. He shivered as it left him reluctantly; Kalyani had warned him that wearing an aether skin too long or often could change him into more animal than man if he wasn’t careful.

“Where are we?” Martel asked excited as she climbed off Kalyani.

“First see to the Griffins and help them out of their harnesses,” Xavier said. He hadn’t spotted any villages nearby so they had time to consider where they were without worrying about other people. Martel nodded and helped Kalyani out of the harness and packs she wore. Kalyani was panting, her beak agape as she took in great gasps of air. Once free of her harness she lay out on the grass and let her wings drop around her.

“You alright?” Xavier asked. She only nodded unable to answer verbally. Xavier went to help the other Griffins, the older of the children helping him as the younger stroked the Griffin’s in comfort.

“I think we should worry about food now,” Lycus said as he carried over one of the packs. It was full of smoked fish they had saved from the island. Xavier knew the Griffins could probably finish off the whole pack as they were, but he nodded.

“Go and get water from the sea and purify it,” Xavier said. “Feed the Griffins and help them rest, I’m going to go look around.”

He hurried off though his own muscles and fatigue called for rest. He went to a cliff that rose up over the sea and surrounding land stopping at the top to look around. At first all he could see were the cliffs spreading along the coast before it occurred to him to look inland. Sure enough he spotted a small village nestled in the arms of a dale in the middle of the grass swept hills.

“Do you know where we are?” Martel asked having joined him.

“No, I don’t think you understand how big the kingdoms are Martel,” Xavier said. “From what I read the island the mages came from was only a tenth of the size of Dridia. Dridia is the smallest of the Nine Kingdoms, or it was until Regis claimed half of Alda’s lands after the King’s Wars.”

“I don’t remember how big the island had been,” Martel said. “I only remember the Broken Isles.”

“Well those are even smaller,” Xavier answered. “A spit of land compared to the whole of the Kingdoms. It would take you at least a year to travel from Daun to Xin, and there are plenty of parts left undiscovered.”

He looked at her to see her eyes shining with both fear and anticipation.

“So, if you don’t know where we are what are we going to do?” Martel asked.

“I’m going to go over to that village and get information and maybe food,” Xavier answered. “Would you like to come?”

She nodded enthusiastically and they went back to the Griffins. He told Kalyani where they were going and left Lycus in charge of the children, though it looked like all the children wanted to come as well. Xavier set off at a fast pace over the sandy grassy ground, Martel struggling to keep up with his pace.

“Will I be able to understand the people here?” Martel asked. “I only speak Dridian.”

“Those translation amulets I made you translate everything,” Xavier answered. “But leave all the talking to me.”

He remembered then that the mages probably used those sigils all the time for themselves but had never sold them to others. It was one of the many petty ways they manipulated their powers to say useful.

They reached the village a few hours later, Martel breathing heavily though Xavier was barely winded. It felt strange to him suddenly walking back into civilization after being away for so long, it must have been even stranger for Martel.

The village was the typical Elmerian settlement, crude huts of turf and wood planks. The village had managed to only merit a post, not even an inn or Sect. The villagers were just coming out of their homes going about their chores and daily lives, all were Elmerian stock. Xavier walked along the main dirt road and the villagers stopped to stare at him and Martel. Xavier kept his hand off his sword but he made sure it was in plain sight as he led the way over to the post.

A few Rhodin wagons were sheltered by the post, their owners staring just as much as the Elmerians. Martel walked closely to him, looking around at the village wide-eyed. The post was distinguished by the tall steeple that stood over the small cabin, trade flags of various guilds flying in the wind from the flag pole. Xavier could smell the birds that roosted there, the sides of the tower stained white with their droppings.

Entering the cabin he was greeted with the earthy smell of grain and herbs. The space was full of trade goods from other kingdoms, grain and wool from Daun, Markian cloth and cheese, Nyrgardic furs and steel. Most seemed to be local produce and goods, but none told Xavier which Kingdom they were in exactly. The man at the bar was Elmerian, his face pudgy and skin swarthy.

“Greetings,” Xavier said in the trade tongue as he walked up to the counter.

“Greetings,” the man answered eyeing him with interest. Xavier first took out one of the blank silver coins and placed it on the counter but kept his finger on it.

“My mistress and I were blown off course at sea and I’m afraid we’ve lost our way a bit,” Xavier said. “Could you tell us where we are?”

“Mages, are you?” the man said looking at Martel.

“My mistress is a mage sir, but I am just her Aldan servant as you can tell,” Xavier said. “We left our party and boat at the cliffs so we could get directions back to Myr.”

“Well you’re just into Dridia,” the man answered nodding. “The border is only about a day’s ride to the west. If you follow the coast east, you should reach Myr in about ten days depending on the wind.”

“Thank you, sir,” Xavier said releasing the coin. The man took it and Xavier took out another. “We are also in need of supplies, food and meat.”

“The spring slaughter is in so there is plenty of meat,” the man said.

“Any fresh animals?” Xavier asked.

“I’ve a pig up for sale,” the man said.

“I’ll take that and what food I can carry,” Xavier answered. The man helped him fill a few bags with a couple of cabbages, potatoes, apples, onions, and some ears of corn. He also got some salt, herbs, and lard to cook with. Xavier also bought some trail bread and smoked sausages for the road. He paid the man in silver, knowing he was grossly over paying but he had silver to burn. He turned to Martel to see her examining a cloak of Daunish wool in amazement. “Mistress.”

She turned to him and he signaled her to follow him. Outside behind the post was a pig pen with several black and white pigs grunting around in the mud. The shop keeper caught one, tied a lead around its neck and it followed him out.

“The butcher is just down the way,” the man said.

“Thanks, but I know how to do it,” Xavier answered though he didn’t plan on butchering the pig himself. It was a medium sized pig but he hoped it would be big enough to feed the Griffins.

“Suit yourself then,” the man said as he shrugged. Xavier shouldered the bags and took the lead of the pig, walking back down the road with Martel hurrying after him.

“Should I take one?” Martel asked and he grinned at her.

“No, mages never carry things,” Xavier said. “Thank you for the offer, and I will take you up on it once we get out of the village. But right now the villagers would think it odd that you would carry anything.”

“Why does that matter?” Martel asked and Xavier laughed. He liked that she wasn’t like real mages.

He was so preoccupied with his burden however he almost walked into someone. He stopped in time, an apology on his lips when he stopped dead. The man was Elmerian, dressed in a dirty smock with a boil on his face. He was thin and Xavier didn’t recognize him personally, but he knew the signs of a Legionnaire of Kal Ba’el when he saw one. His blood ran cold as the man looked up at him with dark brown eyes.

“Watch where you’re going,” the man growled.

“Sorry,” Xavier said, lowering his eyes to seem less threatening. The man stared at him however, his dark eyes narrow.

“You’re Aldan?” He said puzzled. “Strange thing to see an Aldan outside of the forest now a days.”

Xavier could have lied, bluffed his way through it and kept going on his way. But he had already caught the man’s interest; he would report this sighting back to Tobias for sure. Xavier didn’t bother drawing his sword or dropping his burdens. He drew a dagger from his belt and stabbed the man in the heart before he could move. For a moment Xavier feared even that hadn’t killed him by the look of malice in his eyes, but then the man shuddered and fell to the ground dead.

“Run,” Xavier said lowly to Martel before he took off at a dead run. The pig smelling blood ran with him squealing. Martel followed a few moments later stunned as shouts followed them over the grassy hills. They ran for some time, leaving the road and heading back the way they came. At last they slowed to a stop in the lee of a hill to catch their breath.

“What was that?” Martel asked her eyes wide with terror. “You just killed that man for no reason!”

“There was a reason,” Xavier said dropping the bags. “I told you I have enemies and he was one of them.”

“He didn’t seem to know you,” Martel said.

“Not personally but I knew he was part of an order that is hunting me,” Xavier answered. “They call themselves the Legion of the Creed and worship an evil spirit as a god making human sacrifices to him. I recognized that man as one of theirs. He would have reported seeing me if I had let him live.”

He looked at her to see her staring at him in horror, the same look on her face that Zaire once had. Only Martel seemed afraid of him rather than Zaire who had seemed afraid for him.

“That man was evil Martel an evil far worse than Atlas,” Xavier said. “I know you only have my word for it, but my word is far better than you having to see it to believe it.”

She took several deep breaths and at last seemed to calm herself.

“You’re right,” she said at last. “I’ve trusted you this long, I should keep trusting you. I just never…”

Despite everything she had faced Xavier knew Martel had never seen anyone violently killed before her. All he could do was pat her on the head and shoulder his bags again. Martel took one and Xavier led the pig away from the tuft of grass it was inspecting. They arrived back to find the children and Griffins had made a little camp in the shelter of one of the hills. The pig nearly bolted when it saw the griffins, but Esha and Lila chased it down with enthusiasm.

“Thank you for the meat,” Kalyani said pleased, and then she noticed the look on his face.  “What happened?”

Xavier pulled her aside as Martel went to begin making dinner out of the supplies he had brought. He told her about the Legion and the man he had killed.

“Will they follow you?” Kalyani asked.

“The incident will be reported to several channels both legal and illegal,” Xavier said. “Since I never gave my name all they have is my description, which is prominent given I am Aldan. It will take some time however for the authorities to get word and just as long for the Legion to learn of it. The villagers will do nothing themselves.”

“Good, we have time to rest for the day and leave tomorrow then,” Kalyani said and Xavier nodded. She of course was taking this in much better stride, though something occurred to him.

“Kalyani have you ever killed?” Xavier asked. “I mean killed another thinking creature.”

“I’ve killed two other Griffins in battle,” Kalyani answered. “It is rare but it happens and our kind are built to deal with such things. But out of all here only Raja and Nagendra have also killed another Griffin. While we all say we are warriors few of us have killed others.”

“It is never easy is it,” Xavier said lowly and Kalyani sighed.

“No, it is not, but we know how to keep living in the face of death,” Kalyani said.

“Xavier!” Melissa shouted as she came running over with a steaming ear of corn on a stick, finely roasted. “This is so tasty have some!”

“Thank you,” Xavier said smiling at her as he took the corn from her. He took a bite as he started to walk over to the fireside.

“What’s it called?” Melissa asked. “I’ve never had that fruit before.”

“It’s a vegetable and it is called corn,” Xavier answered handing it back. “Eat up.”

She smiled at him and began munching on the corn oblivious to the darkness of the man that stood over her.

[sheismental]

Insanity — tom holland (chapter one)

a/n: first chapter! comment your thoughts and tell me if you want to be tagged.

WARNING: Foul language (PG-13)

summary: twenty-one year old y/n l/n had trained for years to become one of the greatest secret agents in the U.S secret service - There was only one last task to do - only one mission left. And to do so, she has to partner with England’s greatest secret agent, Tom Holland. Taking down an international mobster is dangerous enough, but doing it while someone pulled on your heartstrings? That was insanity.

—

The lights were dimmed, the cold air of the A/C making your skin grow goosebumps as the screen before you showed several pictures of faces you had never seen before. Faces of people you had to know.

Your legs are crossed underneath the glass table, both hands clasped together as you sat straight, stealing glances at Tom - His brown eyes focused on the screen, jaw clenched as he sat carelessly on the leather chair. He wasn’t all business, too confident on his talents - thinking he would ace this mission like he had done for the past few years. 

And (y/n) didn’t like that one bit, sloppiness wasn’t one of her favorite traits on a partner. In fact, she despised sloppiness, and apparently arrogant agents too.

“These are your new identities, we were quite meticulous picking them out and preparing them-.” He lays two new passports on the table, along with a file and several ID’s, Roger smiles proudly before rubbing his hands together.

You reach over to grab your passport, flipping through it intently. Katherine King, not a bad name considering what you had been named before.

Tom flips through his own passport, nodding as his eyebrows knit together - a smug smile plastering on his face. 

“Jack King? Sounds like an old man’s name.” Tom comments, chuckling - Your eyes shoot up to him, widen and confused.

“King? Wait are we going to be like siblings or something like that?.” You ask Roger, your lips parted as Roger furrows his eyebrows - Shaking his head slowly.

“You’re Jack and Katherine King, a married couple from England, would you care to simply read the file, (y/n)? it will make things fairly easier.” Roger replies scoldingly and you frown before hastily taking the file between your fingers.

Tom stares at you, the smug smile never leaving his lips - He was amused by you. He was good at reading people, and you weren’t an exception to his talents, as charming as you tried to be - He knew you didn’t exactly fancy him, nor the idea of playing husband and wife with him. 

“Moving on-.” Roger clears his throat, staring at the screen behind him. “We need you two to infiltrate the lair, if you may, of the international mobster Richard Osterfield - He was a hard one to track but we got word that he is doing business in England. Needless to say, he is shamelessly doing this - Half of the police department are on his payroll, and the other half make a blind eye whenever he is around. You need to understand he is dangerous, he has killed many without any remorse - We think he is planning to move onto bigger things.”

“So you want us to be an undercover couple giving you intel about him?.” You ask, licking your lips. 

“Something like that.” Roger replies. “You’ll be covert for sure, but we need you two to do more than just give us intel about him - We need you to befriend him, become friends with his friends, be on the same parties as him. We need you to be on the same mob, watch how he rolls.” He explains, his deep grey eyes darting from Tom to you. “The reason we chose you two is because we’ve made a deal with the United Kingdom’s Secret Service to take down Richard, and you two are the best covert agents we have on each side."

Tom’s smirk grows bigger at Roger’s words. 

“The file has everything you need to learn about your identities, be sure to know every single detail. You will have plenty of time to do so, since it’s a long flight.” Roger states and you nod understandingly. “We are trusting you with this, don’t disappoint us.”

You stand up, your face blank of expression as you shake Roger’s hand. The way he looks at you, a mix between a proud father and a demandant boss as his other hand covers your own. 

“Be careful.” He mumbles, wrinkles forming into the crest of his forehead, you give him a tight lipped smile.

“I will.” You breathe out, slipping your hand off his and looking at Tom - Standing up with his hands on his sides as he stares blankly at you. “We have a flight to catch.”

And with that, you waltz out of the cold room - Swallowing the lump on your throat. You were fearless, you were the best trained secret agent on service, but even with all of that - Taking down an international mobster was something you were new at, and that made a feeling of worry grow in the pit of your stomach as you walked with your head high through the hallway.

You feel two arms wrap around you and turn you around, your face smashed against a strong chest. 

“Mark.” You chuckle soflty as he embraces you like only a father would do. 

“Little grasshopper.” He breathes out, and even when you felt this great love for him - You couldn’t, you just couldn’t tell him how much he meant to you. “I will miss you.” 

I will miss you too turned into a:

“I’ll be back soon.” 

And your farewell came soon enough, he unwraps his arms from around you - He was grimacing, he knew how much you had ached for a mission like this, and he dreaded the idea of it. You couldn’t look at him in the eyes, it was too painful - and there was no way in hell you could show that kind of weakness, so you turned around, face straight and walked away.

—

You make your way into the private jet, you see the multiple suitcases pilled on a corner as you walk toward one of the soft plushed seats. You sigh as you shut your eyes, feeling as the seat comfortably adjusted to your frame. The file was peeking through one of your bags, and you feel anxious - It was aching to be read, it needed to be read.

 “Ah so I see you’ve already made yourself comfortable.” Tom’s thick accent fills the walls of the jet as he makes his way to the seat in front of you confidently, you can’t help but mentally groan. 

“There is plenty of room in the jet for you to sit, does it really have to be in front of me?.” You mumble, narrowing your eyes at him. He laughs softly, and you hate every second of it. 

“But i want to sit here, darling.” He replies, raising his eyes to reach yours. He leans forward, placing his elbows on his thighs as his hands clasp together, he is looking at you intently - Basking on the sight of your very much disliked face. “Besides we are husband and wife-.” He shifts, reaching into the pocket of his dress pants - He smiles winningly as he takes out a pair of rings. “Might as well act like it.” He states, taking one of the rings between his index finger and thumb, showing it to you with a smug smile - His eyes sparkling with arrogancy.

You clench your jaw, reaching for the ring with a fast movement - But he is faster, moving his hand away and clicking his tongue. A messy curl falls in front of his face as he smirked, he was really loving the nature of your situation. 

“May I, love?.” He asks softly, voice thick as honey as he reaches for your hand - locking eyes with you. You bite your bottom lip, stern eyes looking straight into his soft brown ones - He was hiding something behind that smug arrogant smile, and you knew better than fall for his charm.

You comply for the sake of the mission, placing your hand on his hand with hesitation. But he continues with his smug smile and it only makes your stomach revolt - You really didn’t enjoy his arrogant manners, thinking he owned the mission, perhaps thinking he was better than you. But you knew better, because you are better.

His strong hand grabs your left hand, taking the ring between his fingers and sliding it up your finger - He smiles with satisfaction, the ring fits to perfection, looking like it was always meant to be there. 

“There.” He says softly, looking up to you. “It wasn’t so bad, was it, love?.” He takes pleasure on how a frown grows on your face. You turn your head to the side, your hand falling on your lap - the golden ring glowing as the light bounces off the diamond. 

You reach for the file, ignoring Tom’s stare and start to read through it. Might as well act like Katherine King.

As your eyes skim over the detailed file, you realize Katherine King is exactly the opposite from you; Wealthy, Sophisticated and utterly in love with Jack King, whom was a wealthy business man and only got the best of the best for his trophy wife. It all sounded like barf to you, and you wonder, how could people actually live like that? Not earning anything, just thinking they own everything. 

You knew you had fought for what you had, granted - You had stolen a lot, but you used you brains for it, you had grown poor and made a name for yourself. It was hard to imagine growing the way Katherine King had grown - In a safe, loving home with an extense education in Art. 

And maybe the reason why you despised acting like that kind of woman was also the reason why you loved acting like it; Because you were someone else, maybe for a couple of months - But it was enough, enough for you to forget about the shadows lurking behind you, to forget about the never ending nightmares of your childhood. Enough to keep yourself brave and strong-headed.

Enough to keep yourself sane.

—

sheismental masterlist

tom holland masterlist

Insanity (ALL CHAPTERS)

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[ruminativerabbi]

Defending Dr. King’s Legacy

It’s hard to imagine anyone arguing with the notion that freedom of the press will always be among the most basic features of life in any democratic state. And, indeed, ever since December 15, 1791, when the first ten amendments to the Constitution were formally adopted, this has been true with respect to our American republic not merely philosophically but legally as well. That, surely, is as it should be. But, just as freedom of the press exists specifically to permit the publication of even the least popular ideas, so do citizens have the parallel right—perhaps even the obligation—to respond vigorously to published essays rooted in ignorance, fantasy, and a prejudicial worldview. And it is with that thought in mind that I wish to respond to a truly outrageous op-end piece about Israel—and, more precisely, American support for Israel—published in the New York Times last Sunday in which the author appears to have no understanding of ancient or modern history, no sympathy for any of Israel’s security needs, no ability critically to evaluate even the most baseless Palestinian claims about the history of the land, and no interest even in getting the facts straight.  

The author, Michelle Alexander, is formally employed as an opinion columnist at the Times. And her essay, published on Martin Luther King weekend, presented itself as the result of the author’s brave decision finally “to break the silence” regarding the Israel-Palestinian conflict. It’s hard to imagine what silence the author imagines she has boldly broken by daring to criticize Israel viciously and in print—just lately the number of opinion pieces hostile to Israel published by her own newspaper gives lie to that notion easily. Nor was there anything at all new or groundbreaking in her essay, which mostly just parroted the same propagandistic claptrap the enemies of Israel cite regularly to justify their anti-Israel stance. But most outrageous of all was the suggestion that she was somehow keeping faith with Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s legacy by finding the courage to speak out against Israel. That last point, then, is the first I will address.

I am personally too young to have been present in 1968 when, just a week before his horrific death, Dr. King came to the annual convention of the Rabbinical Assembly, my own professional organization, and spoke these words:

Peace for Israel means security, and we must stand with all of our might to protect its right to exist, its territorial integrity and the right to use whatever sea lanes it needs. I see Israel, and never mind saying it, as one of the great outposts of democracy in the world, and a marvelous example of what can be done, how desert land can be transformed into an oasis of brotherhood and democracy. Peace for Israel means security and that security must be a reality.

Those were his final remarks about Israel, never revised or updated. How could he have? He was dead a week later! And, with his horrific end, his unqualified support for the right of Israel to defend itself against its enemies entered history as part of his formidable legacy, a legacy that touched on many areas of American domestic and foreign policy and not solely on the questions related to civil rights, non-violent protest, and race relations for which he is justifiably the most famous.

In her essay, Alexander broke no new ground. She seemed ignorant about Israel—about its history, its foreign policy, its long history of one-sided overtures to the Palestinians, its withdrawal from Gaza, and the restrained way it has responded not to dozens or hundreds but thousands of separate acts of terror aimed specifically at the civilian population over these last years alone—and neither did she seem to know, or care, how it was that Israel came to control the West Bank in the first place. But when boiled down to its basics, she seemed unable to move past her sense that the Jews who founded the State of Israel were colonialist interlopers from Europe who were intent on doing to the indigenous Arab population what the Belgians in that same era were attempting to do to the Congolese, the British to the Indians, and the French to the Algerians: seize other people’s land and then ignore the presence of those people other than when it came to subduing them and forcing them to serve their new masters. As I read it, that was the core of her argument.

The fact that the Palestinians have refused offer after offer to negotiate a fair, just peace seems to be unknown to her. Perhaps more to the point, the fact that there is nothing at all preventing the Palestinian leadership from doing what they should have done in 1947 and finally declaring a Palestinian State, then negotiating its borders with the neighbors and getting down to the business of nation building—this too seems not to have occurred to Alexander, who finds it courageous to support the notion of boycotting Israel (and who is paradoxically appalled by the publication of the names of individuals who support the BDS movement, although you would think she would be proud for their names—and her own name—to be known widely in that context). And she certainly has no interest in responding thoughtfully (or at all) to the inconvenient fact that the Arabs, hardly the indigenes, came to the Land of Israel in a series of invasions in the seventh century CE in the course of which they successfully wrested control of the land from its then Byzantine masters. (Nor was the Land of Israel the sole target of the Caliph Umar and his hordes back in the day: the Arab armies, true colonialists precisely in the style of the age of imperialism, also overran modern-day Turkey, Cyprus, Armenia, and most of Northern Africa.) On the other hand, there is every imaginable kind of evidence—literary, archeological, genetic, epigraphical, and numismatic—to support the argument that the ancestors of today’s Jewish people were present in the land in hoariest antiquity and have remained present, one way or the other, ever since. But of that truth, Alexander has nothing at all to say.

It’s true that there have been Arabs living in the Land of Israel for many centuries. But the detail Alexander passes quickly by is precisely that there is nothing at all preventing the outcome she clearly dreams to see: the establishment of a Palestinian state in the Middle East. If they will it to happen, then it will surely be no dream! (I’ve lost track of how many nations already recognize the non-existent State of Palestine as though it were an actual political entity.) Yet all the misery of the Palestinians, so Michelle Alexander, is exclusively the fault of Israel. The Jordanians, who ruled over the West Bank for nineteen years and kept the Palestinians interned in refugee camps, are not mentioned. The extraordinary acts of violence directed against Israel—the tens of thousands of missiles fired at civilian towns and villages within Israel from Gaza, for example—these too are left unreferenced. Perhaps the author considers each of those missiles to constitute a valid expression of political rage. But I would only begrudgingly respect her right such an opinion if she were to write similarly about the people who brought down the Twin Towers on 9/11—that they weren’t terrorists or violent miscreants, just brave martyrs making a searing political statement.  

Alexander makes much of the fact that Martin Luther King apparently cancelled plans to travel to Israel after the Six Day War in 1967. She cites a phone call—but without saying to whom it was made or where recorded—according to which King based his decision on the fear that the Arab world would surely interpret his visit as an indication that he supported everything Israel did to win the war. That King had misgivings about this or that aspect of Israeli military or foreign policy is hardly a strong point—I myself  harbor grave misgivings about many Israeli policies, including both domestic and non-domestic ones—but infinitely more worth citing are Reverend King’s remarks the following fall at Harvard. Some of the students with whom he was dining began to criticize Zionism itself as a political philosophy, to which criticism King responded by asserting that to repudiate the value or validity of Zionism as a valid political movement is, almost by definition, to embrace anti-Semitism: “When people criticize Zionists, they mean Jews. You’re talking anti-Semitism!” And King’s final statement about Israel, cited above, certainly reads clearly enough for me!

To take advantage of the freedom of the press guaranteed by the Constitution implies a certain level of responsibility to the facts. To be unaware that Israel withdrew from Gaza in 2005 is possibly merely to be uninformed and lazy in one’s research. To write about the West Bank as though it were the site of a formerly independent Palestinian state now occupied by Israeli aggressors is either to be willfully biased or abysmally ill informed. But to write about Israeli checkpoints designed to keep terrorists from entering Israel without as much as nodding to the reason Israelis might reasonably and fully rationally fear a resurgence of violence directed specifically against the civilian population—that crosses the line from ignorance and poor preparation into the terrain of anti-Semitic rhetoric that finds the notion of Jewish people doing what it takes to defend themselves against their would-be murderers repulsive…or, at the very least, morally suspect.

I have been a subscriber to the New York Times forever. My parents were also subscribers. In my boyhood home, the phrase “the paper” invariably referenced The Times. (If my father meant The Daily Mirror or The Post, he said so. But “the” paper without further qualification was The Times.) Much of what I grew up knowing about the world and thinking about the world came directly from its editorial and, eventually, its op-ed pages; that the writing in “the” paper was presumed unbiased, informed, and honest went without saying. That, however, was then. And this is now. I haven’t cancelled my subscription. Not yet, at any rate. And I really do believe that people should be free to express even the least popular views in print without fear of reprisal. But when someone crosses the line from harsh criticism of Israel to propose that there is something reprehensible about Israel defending itself vigorously against its enemies—that is where I stop reading and try to calm down by looking at the obituaries or the crossword puzzle instead.

[edocherokee-blog]

15 Mile

Use your skills they said sow i used mine got away from all progressing aggressively through all my dynastic times per every year if my very own drive-in movie theater plus landscaping service including interior decorating plus delivery service can make a billion in ten years after all debits are factored into the equation i can build one of each of my manses per year and a half almost within those ten years not to mention my K-12 university i will be only 44 going on 45 not even 50 looking every bit as 25 yeah i strive for perfection without competition from anyone still i will have multiple degrees from four colleges i won geah and do not forget my wholistic wellness center which if turned into a franchise people who are down to get healed better gradually living longer maybe the 200s i wanna see who is down cause that is the race of all time looking 100 now how does that sound? my own private jet slash airline without all the glitter and glamour just book your seat and let us take off to point b from point a and back with the parachutes on deck just in case with your gps locator on the phone turnt on i will have it where everyone has to go through parachute training before anyone get on my flight and i need a chopper because i said so chop chop chop chop in the air looking over my land oh yeah! and even surveying other prospects to buy more real estate pays when humping takes an extra long fricking time though at least i got the chance to see all of the rough terrain on ground i am real driving commercial trucks is the bomb after i drove my passenger vehicle delivering foods from the least wanted now highly sought after restaurants in them spots where money give to them and around back to me in a circle i had to keep my eye on the prize my N.I.G.G.A. while Queen Yaa Asantewaa keep her eyes on our enemies if we figured to be a bigger accomplishment as ancestral monumental figures you can't stop me the spiritual essence i keep taling myself manifested realer without no fully ever daring to approach me boxing to the death orange and red shoestrings style cause as an Edocherokeeian my vengeance comes swifter furiously brilliant with controlled positive anger it cost 20gz to make millions from that drive-in movie aspect and from my healing tea bottled it takes 2gz to make millions from my right jab you down it takes a g and half with them human bodies in their own passenger vehicles controlling my app with proper mapping giving you that restaurant and grocery food delivery service again and again multi millions insured knock they wind out by employing writers who write nothing but ancestral math and science catering to my dynastic movement using dna languages forget them others at the top i'm all in for the underdawgs we ride together drop that party for them heads once a month on my property costing me a g turn it out into 20gz times 12 months per year put my library and museum up one after the other then proceed to make each manse like i said before until all seven are complete not forgetting my circular music temple guaranteed to attract heads every quarter with a venue you never heard before selling my own cds per the amounts weighing heavy in my game without a record label all instrumental artists from every country on this planet who is down to the end cause we understand who goes around comes around again and again make my enemies per sting to the jaw knocking bells into their ears ringing multiple senses inside that cranium stepping steep dna deep uppercut off they feet when my 13 school university is made let the vodun play hypnotize them at full attention across my garden ampitheater stage showing my absolute strength given to my foes' guts knees weak drop parasicktick tock clocked sucka punk muthafucka critically stunned total knockout dynamite hit the first round draft you picked(echoing)....i'll give a young N.I.G.G.A. 20gz to construct my stock market exchange software from excel or any other mathematical software incorporating fixed points with only small businesses who are down with trades of their handmade products and i will pay to have my stock market exchange constructed on my property cause the hardware is not like you think it is if you know processors and hardrives to include routers and smart switching with fiber optics and a few ip phones Dogon of Mali we on cause i see myself incoming while they don't str8 focused taking nothing for granted while them others out there focused on panties and draws in lalaland i'm busy getting taught how to follow the Suns while growing higher and higher two leafs up while the Kings and Queens with their hoods out slither through my fields ain't nobody brave enough cause they know I'm on ain't we rite Lewis Latimer? click me off ancestor so i can continue two creep with Harriet Tubman she guiding me to another meeting with Hannibal Barca Mansa Musa Malcolm X and Maya Angelou in another 100 miles cause one raven sent word to them that Imhotep wanna see me so i gotta perfect into my best you see....forget the fame what an index is like? what my university is like? why you gotta be an architect to your empire? how many businesses i have as dbas under one corporation? why planning is crucial when leading or having someone to lead your projects into its end so each soar steadily and never fall? what i learned from rise and fall and how the universal laws play? why i am not into personal luxuries though into myself physically moving behind my every seen putting in work for mine completely gone? why unbacked money never mattered to me cause using it for the rags' reason is better? why food water and shelter is better at a gourmet level within one hotel and four castles for frequent travelers and tourists? why tourism is the backing of my every endeavor to be completed? and why college students' gpa doesn't matter when considered for room in one of my 7 manses? immah young ancestor who rock and roll with my ancestors only i got leadership heart and mind to prove to them i am into our depths and until my untimely death cause it is better that way forward me and obliterated foe you....now you can take this to be rewritten cause remember it is just a draft....yet the names, math and forward progress do not need to be revised...it is up to you while i do me....stay educated and far away from the unreal by universal law cause real visions for me do real business and economics and i do not watch television nor even pay attention to the world due to me traveling within in realtime from the past to now and forever....news is the news but my eyes with notes of how and of when and of where and of why and of what and of who will remain mysterious...i am just doing the opposite of what everybody else is doing and it is working cause the paths are clear while my shadow covers my tracks you know my alpha wolf style is mu omicron beta immaculate cause i been there and done that remember? geah....i thought you knew this is Edo and Cherokee the Westside and Eastside from however and whichever direction you peeping from....you can call this the “Reconnect Project” from the “Great Disconnection” on my own the Garveyian Difference way....opposite of everybody else like everybody rushing to the beach and clubs and casinos and etc yeah i am cruising on an empty highway going the opposite direction like when the mercenaries’ lights are on going in the opposite direction yeah just like that and i ain’t even concerned why cause you know why? My great grandmutha always told us when we was knee high to “Mind Your Own Business” and you will be fine....and she was rite too. Evolution made me a truist indeed to the point of no return cause food water and shelter comes first all else is secondary and third i am a legend airy per employee and contractor’s mindset we are alike and it is up to us to get survival of the fittest minus the scandalous. Stay focused cause you know i am you can see it in my math and science without further details and irs apps from Edo to the US to the UK to a country in Asia to a country in Latin America i gotta trade route for my own self indeed using my own transportation to include investments from my own corporation and you know my future international lawyers and diplomats from the tribes to every point at the table is down with it and all i need to deal with we all the way with us especially when it comes to Education....this is Monopoly’s Chess i got my own diplomatic ideas meaning my own diplomats speaking multiple languages shaking hands getting paid featured self-made and unafraid doing what it take it is our honor dutiful and beautifully prized highly deserving....organizational charts all together wits intelligent and markets aimed this highly educated 34 year old is untamed....