Hello Subscribers!
Subscribers, such an ugly-sounding word. Sub-scrib-ers. Ugh. What else should I call you guys? Embers - too general, Bottles, Ember Bottles, Scribs. Neh, I’ll figure it out - eventually. BE-ers, like 🍻. 🤣🤣🤣 No! Maybe you can think of a nickname that suits you guys. Let me know in the comments, okay? I should probably tell you I’ve fallen into Bleach again, and Yumichika Ayasegawa has rubbed off on me. What can I say? He’s charismatic. If you know what I mean, there’s another thing to comment on. 😉🧡
Anyway, a couple of weeks ago, I came across something here on Substack, called ‘While I Was Drawing’.
Emily Charlotte Powell asked:
It’s a simple question, no? Such a sweet sentiment.
My word! What a train of thought that evoked. I started thinking of all the things that do that for me, and I couldn’t stop. Embers filling up the bottle with incredible positivity and joy! Thanks, Emily for burning such happy holes for me.
There are so many of you here that bring me joy. Writing out this story and sharing it has truly lit up my soul and made my heart sing.
I wonder if it is possible for this dark tale of mine to light up anyone else’s soul. I don’t think it’s meant to work that way. But it is interesting, go on, tell me I’m wrong…
I dare you.
As for the story:
INDEX | Chapter 5 | Scenes 1 & 2 | Scenes 3 & 4 | Scenes 5 - 8 | Scenes 9 & 10 | Scenes 11 & 12 | Scenes 13 - 16 | Next Scene →
Previously… Our dear young Misty caused quite the ruckus at Logan and Tom’s birthday party, putting her once again on the PG’s radar, and the guys firmly in the crosshairs. Luke didn’t seem too upset, though he momentarily renewed his aggressive attempts at communication, but maybe Misty was just a little upset with herself…
Luke lifted Elle’s guard as soon as we got home, dismissed the soldiers as if they were his own men and lectured Elle for about an hour. I didn’t listen in, just waited for her in the gym.
She looked shellshocked, like she hadn’t slept. I didn’t get much out of her.
Tom doesn’t seem too worried either. He only did what he had to, and if Elle can’t see it, it’s because she is too immature. I spend time thinking about arguing with him about it. It’s easy to forget that for her, just a few weeks ago she was only eight. They are expecting adolescent level reasoning from a kid.
Luke refused to talk with Tom and me about the fallout. He said he would pull some strings and ‘handle it’ like he did with the ‘lab accident’ and that was it. I know he will give us the details when he has them.
It takes a week.
* * *
“We can’t isolate her, Luke!” I argue, feeling the injustice deeply while he just sits on the Library’s white leather sofa sipping his tea calmly as if this was all to be expected. ”If we do they might as well take her and turn her into a weapon. Looks like she’s halfway there already anyway.” I put my empty cup down a little harder than necessary on the coffee table.
“We don’t really have a choice,” Tom says matter-of-factly, the summer breeze from the open windows failing to move his short-cropped hair. “She put six soldiers in the hospital, without breaking a sweat. She knocked Joel flat on his back so fast it was funny. Not to mention that Drakisthan friend of his, Evan, who could challenge you as a kid.”
“I know, Tom, I was there-” I begin, burying my face in my hands.
“What did you think was going to happen?” Tom cuts me off abruptly and I grit my teeth as I stare at him. “That we’d take her in, adopt her, rehabilitate her? Any eight-year-old with that kind of power, as cut up and bloody as she was when we found her is already a weapon. She’s dangerous. We are lucky that all they demanded was strict probation with regular reports. They could have taken her outright, they could sanction Luke or us-”
“We knew from the moment we took her in that there were risks.” I cut him off. “We knew she had skills and we know she has trauma. But we can get her on a program, like some kind of kid soldier program. Put her in therapy, and get her an education. She’s safe here, we can help her adjust.”
“She is pretty much isolated as is. and it won’t be permanent.” Luke rejoins before Tom can interrupt me again. “We decided we would make her part of our family. We got the paperwork through while she was sick, so legally she’s one of us, since they haven’t taken her yet, they can’t now, not without grounds. So we don't give them any. We do as they say, just until we can get some answers. Just until we can be sure she won’t flip out and hurt someone else.”
After the party I expected everything to change. Luke’s visit made it clear that I caused some big problems. Logan said that I broke some pretty important rules.
Every time I overstepped back home, I suffered. Every transgression was avenged. Here it doesn’t work that way and I don’t know how to handle it. Logan seemed disappointed, but he didn’t even scold me. Even though I had caused trouble again, just like I did when I kicked him. I expected justified retribution and punishment, removal of privileges, but there is nothing, everything is just normal.
I have to try.
The tab Logan gave me is like a little computer screen, only a little bigger than my two-splayed palms. He showed me how to hold it in my hands and control it by touch, giving me a world of information at my fingertips. There are pictures and videos and long blocks of text in the universal script. Anything I want to know, I just key in the characters and it appears. There is a lot to learn about this planet.
Logan is kind, I have never met anyone so kind. He still meets me in the gym every morning. He talks and tells me things to make me smile, and shows me things on the tab. He played games with me on his, some of them are fun for a while. Then he shows me how to bring up a notepad that reads what I write. I don’t like it, I don’t know what to write.
I’ve seen Thomas a few times. He doesn’t talk much, only watches, looking sad. I understand why he did what he did. I don’t blame him.
Luke is strong. I can sense the power in him. He may lack the physical power that the Manorians so effortlessly embody but his fortitude and determination are enough to make up for it. He brings me building bricks and puzzles and patterns. He doesn’t push me to communicate, only watches as I explore them, giving basic instructions, nothing more. As long as I cooperate he doesn’t look at me in that way, as long as I engage with him, he seems content. I think he is testing me, always testing.
Tom and I take time out of our coaching and fighting schedules to spend time with Elle in hopes that she will settle in, but without the succession of therapists to evaluate and psychoanalyst her, Luke’s contributions are those of the clinician. I think half the reason he agreed to the isolation was to avoid the standard operating procedure of multiple therapy for our feral child. Now he has to do all the evaluating himself, which would suit him fine, but since he can’t get into her head he is forced to do it the old-fashioned way. I don’t blame him for looking for shortcuts.
Elle seems to be very intelligent, and knowledgeable for someone who by any reasonable standard would only have a couple of years of schooling. She can read and write in perfect Universal, though her word choices are a little foreign. She has a pretty solid grasp of precalculus mathematics and even some coding skills. Her sensorimotor perception and development and problem-solving skills are off the charts.
The only problem areas we find are, understandably, direct communication and social-emotional regulation. She behaves as if she’s hardly seen a stranger for her entire life. She seems shy and withdrawn to the point of being uncooperative. She shuts down when we ask too many questions. Any pressure to communicate faces a stonewall. I tried talking apps, using pictures and text-to-speech. It doesn’t work. Even with every communication aide we can think of, she just stares at the screen, as if she doesn’t know what to say.
* * *
Over the next few weeks, I interrupt many a heated conference call between Luke and his nameless Authority contact, trying to get the PG off his back. He seems to be fighting a losing battle.
As the weeks become months, Elle starts to become listless, losing interest in games and stories, and withdrawing more and more despite my renewed efforts to engage her. Come autumn, Elle seems to spend every free moment in the gym, and once she's in a state of flow she’ll ignore everything else.
And as her interest wanes, Luke’s frustration grows.
Even after my blunder with the party they still seem to want me around. They still treat me like family, and time passes quickly, and there are no more Lesser beings for me to interact with.
When Luke said he wanted to teach me I had expected to learn at least a few new things, but aside from terminology and vernacular, all he does is keep going over the same stupid things Teag and James so painstakingly implanted in my head. The only part that is actually fun is watching them being surprised at every correct answer I give. Well, that and the few days that Logan joins us, he always seems to make things more interesting. I don't even mind so much losing an hour of training every day.
The classroom is, more of a nook, in Luke’s library which is the most inviting room in this huge building they call their home. It is cozy and airy and beautiful, with plants in the corners, and a big white couch and a dozen different places to read. They all sit together and watch the fire on the cooler evenings as the season they call Autumn closes in and they talk about unimportant things, and they laugh and joke. It is nice to see them all so unguarded.
I think I am finally starting to understand Luke a little. On the surface, he is all business, cold and hard as ice. But beneath it all, I sense genuine warmth. I see the way he is with Logan and Tom. They not only respect and admire him, but they trust him and love him like a father, and it seems their love is fully returned.
Once I am open to seeing it, I start to notice that with me, Luke is gentle, almost respectful. It takes him a long time to learn where my boundaries lie, but once they are in place he doesn't overstep. He stops pushing when I resist and he doesn’t try to trick me or catch me off guard. During his tests, he asks questions and I write down the right answers and for a long time that seems to be enough.
We touch on the basics of chemistry, physics, astronomy, mathematics, art, biology, geology; all things I learned in my classes at TTH. The facts were implanted by James, and my understanding was cultivated through Teag’s lectures.
Potions, poisons, their ingredients, and their effects and how to counteract them. Quantities and qualities of the various substances and how and where to procure them. Physical weaknesses in different opponents and how to exploit them. What different environments can offer in different situations... Four of the fifteen years of training necessary to kill effectively and efficiently in any conceivable situation. I think I have most of the basic theory. One of the reasons Chrys and I ran away was to avoid having to start the practical training the promising fifth-cycle students have to do. How long has it been since I’ve thought of you Chrys?
* * *
Penance is back.
I knew it would come back. It’s been four of their months. A third of a cycle.
I expected it after the party, but it didn’t come. I don’t think it ever took so long before, but once it starts it is the same as always. A sickening ache in the pit of my belly that spreads, burning through every bone and muscle fiber until my whole body is afire with too much energy. It isn’t too bad yet.
If I keep moving and don’t think about it, I can almost forget it’s there, but lessons and conversations are hard to carry on, on the move and constantly controlling my thoughts makes my head hurt. Physical activity is the only thing that really helps.
It took Teag, James and me two years to figure out the trick. Working off the excess so that my vital barrier is just on full and not overfull, stops the raw energy from concentrating enough to corrode the cells, but doesn’t send it into replenishment overdrive. It is a delicate balance, and over- or underdoing it, even a little leads to a vicious cycle. I know it’s only delaying the inevitable, but for now all I need is a little relief when all the learning and testing gets boring.
Logan’s games and reading and chatter are so much fun and he is sweet and gentle and kind, but it forces me to sit still for too long.
Tom is happy just to watch. He does his own thing, and leaves me to train, observing without interacting and it is wonderful just to have him around. No pressure.
Thanks for reading! I hope you’re enjoying following along with my Bottled Embers!
Next time… Time has passed as Elle integrated herself into Luke’s family, while the pressure builds behind the scenes. Now the PG wants answers and with Luke losing the support of this Authority contact, General Morgan is not known for his patience.
As always, the easiest way to ensure you never miss an installment is to, click here:
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Until next time. 👋🏻
Thank you for posting your bottled embers, I love reading your story; I am anxious for the whole family—knitted together as it is— to come to a place of familiarity and understanding! Wonderful writing and story telling as always!
Another enticing post and story!