I’m in a bit of a writing slump. Life’s priorities are once again rearranging themselves and pushing my writing down the list. I have a lot of editing to still get through and I’m preparing for a live agent reading this week. However, my creative energy is being poured into other activities so when I finally sit down to work on EoO, I find I’m moving in fits and starts. Lots of deletions, backspaces, pausing to think. ie. NO FLOW. I’m not accustomed to this. I’m used to sitting down, EDM thumping in my headphones, cracking my knuckles, and letting my fingers fly across the keyboard.
None of that is happening. It doesn’t help that I have to reboot my laptop every ten to fifteen minutes because my wireless keyboard loses connection. I then switch to my laptop and that works for about another five minutes, then stops. The only way I’ve found to reconnect is to restart the laptop. These micro-interruptions break my flow, which then causes me to sit staring out the window of flipping through a news channel while I wait for my laptop to come back to life.
Overall, not a conducive way of working. I’m not sharing this with you to garner sympathy. I’m simply being real about what it’s like to be a writer in a world filled with distractions. Some of which I’ve invited into my life (ie. taking on more than I should) and some I just need to learn to live with or fix (ie. really need to get a new laptop, but I’m not going to until the current one dies—because I have other things to spend my money on). See? There’s those priorities again.
And that’s really what life is all about. Choices. Priorities. What is most important to you in this moment? I chose to take on the editorship of our community magazine—and I really enjoy it. I chose to start a certification course in Digital Transformation in Healthcare—and I’m loving it. I choose to put my family first—and always will. I choose to limp along with my current laptop because I don’t want to spend the money and I don’t want the hassle of swapping to a new one—I’ll survive (with lots of deep breathing and a few terse words).
I know that I’ll get back to prioritizing my writing and work out a schedule that meets my needs. For now, I’ll stutter along and make the choices and priorities necessary to live life. Enough about me, let’s find out what Hadrial Abuzi is thinking after her meeting with Bex. What choices will she make?
Chapter 9
Abuzi sat for a while longer at her desk after Bex’s departure. Running through their conversation, she was now convinced that Bex had the manuscript. She knew that she must have been the one who snuck into Xan’s room, retrieved his journal, and then lied about having it. Swiping her hand across the top of her desk, she pressed the image of a camera. Several tiles appeared as if floating on her desktop—each one a different image portraying their use. Abuzi chose the one labeled ‘Lobby’.
A flickering image coalesced displaying the now empty space outside her office door. She ran her finger along the bottom of the screen and wound the scene back to show Bex entering the lobby. Letting the image play forward, she watched as Bex stood, nervously chewing on her fingers, waiting to be called into her office. Something caught Bex’s eye, and she stepped forward. Carefully examining the symbols on the door, she traced her finger over the image of the Dar’Nilyen. Recognition flickered in her eyes as curiosity brimmed in the set of her jaw.
“Quite a remarkable young girl,” a smile crept across Hadrial Abuzi’s face.
She thought about the possibility that she had discovered a Resyn. Could this Bex be the next Resyn to test for the position of Torsoma? How long had Olena’ba’Tor been the presiding Torsoma she wondered. Olena’ba had been well established when she herself had accepted the appointment of Advisor to Anckesh. Since then, there had been many who attempted to rise to the position, with Xan Janal coming the closest. Those who failed usually did so because they died during one of the challenges. Xan was an exception even to that commonality. Completing the challenges, he defied everyone, especially Shrykka, his Hadrial champion, by choosing not to accept. It was his defiance that gave Shrykka the gall to attempt to unseat Olena’ba’Tor. And now another Anckeshian looks to be rising to the challenge.
She pressed the appropriate places on her desk and the screen rose from the center. The face that greeted her this time was not that of the Torsoma. She groaned inwardly as Noytras’ square jawed face ringed with tight curls peered out at her.
“Is she there?” Abuzi asked abruptly.
“As direct as ever,” Noytras responded in her smooth, cool tone.
“I have urgent news.”
“I will be happy to relay any updates to her immediately,” Noytras set her jaw.
With no easy way around the Torsoma’s gatekeeper, Abuzi relented, “Tell her that my suspicions were correct. The girl has the manuscript.”
“That will be welcome news,” Noytras replied. “You will be retrieving it from her, no doubt?”
Abuzi bristled at the command posed as a question. “Not just yet. I want to see what she does with it first.”
Noytras’ narrowed eyes and flared nostrils gave away her frustration at being rebuked. “Very well. I’ll relay your findings and let the Torsoma know that you will be returning the Dar’Nilyen soon.”
“I’ll report again when I have anything further.”
“Of course, you will.”
The connection terminated.
Abuzi sat back and gazed up at the shadowed ceiling of her office. She wondered if Xan Janal could really have held the Dar’Nilyen all this time. Rumours of its disappearance had started right after he declined the position of Torsoma. He returned to Anckesh and became the traveling storyteller. A bard. Much loved and equally reviled depending on any past experiences one may have had with him.
When Shrykka had been defeated, she retreated with her Erismati. The shades of the Eth’hedrial. Once loyal Hadrials, disillusioned and corrupted by greed, drunk on power, easily succumbed to Shrykka’s charm and guile. They had been trying to get their hands on the Dar’Nilyen for centuries. Rather than follow the rules of the Eth’hedrial, the wandered the facets, causing chaos and disrupting the order of the societies within them. They occasionally stumbled across a thinning veil and made their way into a new facet. When that happened, the advisors still loyal to Olena’ba’Tor were quick to repair the breach.
If they acquired the Dar’nilyen, then Shrykka would have the code to thin the veils whenever she wanted. She and her cohorts would be free to pass between the worlds uncontrolled wreaking havoc as they went. Worse, they could destroy the veils entirely causing chaos across the facets. After the last attempt, they had gone quiet. Retreating to the cracks and crevices of fractured facets. Slinking through the scaffolding that underpinned the worlds. Occasionally surfacing in feeble attempts to sow discontent amongst the people.
Abuzi’s fingers drummed their staccato rhythm on the desk while she replayed her conversation with Bex and considered her options. As long as the Erismati didn’t know that she had the book, then it was probably the best place for it. Whoever killed Xan Janal must have known he held the treasure. If they found out that Bex took it, then her life would be forfeit.
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