I have done nothing

The field is plowed
the wheat is sown
the wood is chopped
the lawn is mown
My chores are done
my flesh is tired
though the results golden
my mind is wired
I know in my soul
my inner voice screams
though it took its toll
it was all but dreams.

Review: The Lost Gate by Orson Scott Card

Title: The Lost Gate
Author: Orson Scott Card
Publisher: TOR
ISBN: 978-0-7653-6538-5

Young Danny North was raised with a secret humanity doesn't know; magic exists. The offspring of two potent mages, great things were expected of Danny. Then he learns that his particular power is banned upon pain of death. So Danny runs. While having exploits and adventures, Danny finds a new family, grows, and learns his craft. Meanwhile a youth on a distant world, who is far older than he seems, awakes and gets enmeshed in political intrigue. His an Danny's fates are entwined, holding that of all magicians and the very worlds in their hands.

The story is reminiscent of the Dark Sword Trilogy by Margaret Weis: a boy of noble birth who is supposed to have great powers, is hunted, raised in secret, and is the key to his people's fate.

When the book starts Danny's voice is far more mature than a thirteen year-old should be even with the increased and remarkable intellect attributed to him (an intellect the reader is not allowed to forget as they are reminded time and again). His voice becomes more believable when he turns sixteen, but only just. The voices of all the characters merge to a monotone of sarcasm and smart-alec remarks. Though a few characters are embittered or angry, and fewer still are cheerful, these are more background characters not even worth more than a passing glance.

The adults, too, seem cookie-cutter characters in that all of them are manipulative of Danny, with the deciding characteristic of good and evil being how Danny views them. For example authority figures who treat him with respect receive grudging approval. Those who treat him as a child or inferior, are treated the same. But in all the main character knows best.

The magic system is an off-shoot of the four elements school of magic - earth, wind, water, fire - wherein each mage can only work within their type of magic. In this world mages may work one of eight elements, though the eight is debatable as it is considered a sin; air, water, wind, earth, animal, plant, gate (instantaneous transport), man. All mages are born with a different level of attainable skill, with the most powerful as the most respected. The most powerful is the gate magic - that of the hero - which can augment the ability of mages, heal any wound save death, and transverse space, all while conferring upon the gate mage increased intellect, language skill, and a sense of smart-alecness and urge to prank.

The pace is fairly fast and the story well written. The worlds and intrigues are convincing, as is the underlining problem faced by the hero: who holds me responsible for my actions, if none can punish me? I eagerly await the next story in the series as, the story, while enjoyable as a stand-alone, leaves too much begging to be told and a massive thread flapping loose.  I would recommend this book.

An image

a vase of crystal
refracting light
holding the sun
intricate pattern
calm
clear
serene
complete awaiting completion

Silk Harvest

"I hate this," Acorn said. He kicked at the walnut armor on the floor. His transparent wings fluttering slowly with his agitation. Acorn was glowing softly red.

"It's not that bad," Stump said. His golden glow was blocked by the bulky armor he wore.
"Besides it's useful."

"Ha!" Acorn said. He didn't want to go harvesting silk. It wasn't fun. Now honey harvesting that was fun. Acorn's head ached at the thought, but he couldn't think of why.

"You're scared!" Stump exclaimed with a laugh. "Acorn's sacred of spiders!"

"I am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not! I'd just rather get honey, is all."

"All you think about is honey." Stump rolled his eyes. He picked up the armor and held it out to Acorn. 

"Fine," Acorn grumbled. The walnut armor, though skillfully carved made Acorn look like a bulky doll. "I hate this."

"You said that already," Stump said.

Acorn chased him out of the burrow and into the glen.

The sun was bright and and the air clear. A gentle breeze made the trees rustle their leaves in song even as the flowers bobbed their heads. It was a day for play, not a day for work. And Acorn felt the worse for it.

Strung between the flowers and bushes, shining like gossamer hung glistening spirals of spider webs. As the flowers bobbed, the webs would bow like a ships sails. And darting here and there among the flowers were bees.

"Bees! We can ditch this and follow them to their for honey," Acorn said. 

"No," said Stump. Stump was Acorn's friend but he was a stick in the mud.

"Fine," Acorn groused.

A matronly sprite flew towards them leading a small group of walnut protected  fellows. She lighted before Acorn. She studied him a moment before giving a heavy sigh. 

She turned to the gathered sprites and waved them close. When everyone was close enough to hear clearly, she said, "Okay, you all know what to do. This is important. Be careful out there."

The sprites all flew off. Acorn moved to jump skyward but the woman stopped him.

"Acorn," she said "Please, no games today. Just be careful."

Acorn stared at her with affronted innocence even as Stump laughed himself silly.

She shook her head and flew up to keep an eye on the proceedings.

"I'm always careful," Acorn said.

This spurned Stump to new levels of mirth.

Acorn took to the air. He could see pairs of sprites throughout the glen busily at work. And on the far side of the glen was the largest spider-web Acorn had ever seen. 

It stretched between two trees and criss-crossed completely blocking the path. It was immense. It was terrifying. It was a tease. Acorn had to harvest it.

"Let's get that one," Acorn said speeding across the glen.

Stump flew after him. "It's too big!" he shouted.

"We can finish sooner that way," Acorn called back.

Acorn hovered before the spider-web. It was larger than he had thought. Quick as thought, he drew his needle sharp sword and sliced free a thread. He caught the free floating thread and began to wind it into a ball. He'd get plenty of silk, and then he could go back to doing what he wanted.

"I don't like this," Stump said. But he darted his own sword out and freed another thread. Soon his own ball of silk was growing.

Acorn's thread shook gently as he wound it. Then it went taunt. Acorn grimaced and worked harder to wind the silk.

"Uh, Acorn," Stump said.

Acorn ignored him. The sooner he finished the sooner he'd get honey.

"Acorn, look down," Stump said.

Acorn looked. Climbing the thread that he was winding was huge black and green spider. Panicked Acorn flew back and forth trying to shake the spider free. 

The spider just clung to the thread and worked it's way steadily towards Acorn.

Acorn screamed and tried to fly straight up. But he hadn't been paying attention and hadn't noticed that the web was now above him. He flew right into the spider's web and was stuck.

Acorn struggled to get free but the more he struggled the faster the web held him.
"Let go!" Shouted Stump. "Let go of the the thread!"

Acorn let go of the ball of silk, before he even realized he still had held it. The ball fell drawing the thread and spider after it.

"Get me off of here," Acorn said.

"I don't know," Stump said flying over. He held his completed ball of silk. He carefully placed it in a bag. "I think you're more useful there. You'll distract the spiders."

"That's not funny," Acorn said.

Laughing Stump cut Acorn loose. Acorn flew a short distance away, turned, and then stuck his tongue out at the spider's web.

Stump flew over to Acorn, and then, while humming innocently, began to pluck the remaining threads from off Acorn.

"What are you doing?" Acorn asked.

"Gathering silk," said Stump with a smile.

"Not funny."

"Yes, it is." Stump flew back to the web and snag another thread. "Come on, we've got to finish."

"Alright," Acorn said. He didn't want to. He'd had a traumatic experience that could only be soothed by the liberal application of honey. He began to gather his own thread.

"Look a spider," said Stump.

Acorn jumped back from the web, releasing his thread to the wind. There was no spider.

"You're never going to finish at this rate," Stump said between laughs. 

Soon enough the web diminished in size and the sprites bags bulged with silk. They returned home to find the matronly sprite waiting for them. She took one look at Acorn and just sighed heavily.

End.

Water Dancing

It was twilight and fireflys spun through the air.

"Hey look, Acorn," Stump said. His wings were glowing a pale blue in anticipation. "Let's catch one."

Acorn briefly flashed a bright red. He tried feigning disinterest but broke into a wide grin. "Last one to - " 

Stump was already gone darting through the air. Small shouts of joy making their way back to Acorn.

"HEY! Wait for me! You never wait for me! Why didn't you wait for me? Is it glow envy? I bet it's glow envy!" Acorn said. He dashed out after Stump. His small pixie body passing easily under leaves and through gaps in bushes.

The night darkened and the pixies chased the fireflies quickly forgetting their goal. Soon they took to chasing each other, like twin comets  spinning through the air.

With the suddenness of nature's magic, the moon broke free of the clouds. Its light bathed the area, and the pixies stopped, floating in mid air.

The moon's glow revealed a slow flowing river below. The rippling water making the moon's light seem to dance on the water, like liquid light. 

"Acorn, we should head back," Stump said. "Owls will be out. Acorn?"

Acorn was looking down at the water. His red glow mingled with that of the moon upon the water. "Pretty," he said.

"Acorn?"

"I bet we could put on a show. One that would make the girls mouths hang open. Look at that light. Some honey, a girl, and the light . . ."

"Acorn, let's head back."

Acorn dove for the river. He spun in a loop squealing with glee. He flitted above the water, leaving trails of ripples on the suface. He was loosing himself in his dance.

Stump rolled his eyes. It did look fun. Soon he joined Acorn. His pale blue glow joining with Acorn's red.

They skittered and dodged. Dove, rolled, rose, swerved, and paused. Created ever more complicated steps.

It was only after the moon hid behind the clouds did they realize they had an audiance. All along the shore, glowing faintly, floated dozens of pixies. Their colors shaming rainbows.

A golden glow darted out to them. It flew straight to Stump and resolved itself into a beautiful girl.
"May I have the next dance," She asked and blushed.

"Su - " Stump started to say.

"Hey it was my idea!" Acorn said shoving Stump aside. "Why don't you dance with me?"

"I like blue," she said grabbing Stump's hand and flying off.

"What?! Red's far better the blue! I - " Acorn was shouting after them.

"I'll dance with you," said a raspy voice behind Acorn. 

With trepidation he turned around, and saw an elderly pixie. Acorn shivered. "Uh, I don't want to dance? That's it. I. . . uh . . . hurt my foot. Yeah! Ow! Oh.... I better sit this one out..."

"Cute," the crone said and took his hand. The dance had begun.

END.

Raiding the Hive

Acorn studied the beehive hanging high above in the top of old elm tree. To his right his friend, Stump, was humming tunelessly while tossing rocks in a puddle. Acorn flapped his semi-transparent wings and floated a few inches off the ground. He was so excited he was glowing a dull red. Stump hooted for joy as one of his rocks managed a double-skip on the small pool. 

"We can do it," Acorn said. His eyes were glued on the hive. 

"Let it rest, Acorn," Stump said. He was already searching for another pebble to throw. "Collecting honey is dangerous." 

"Only if the bees catch you." Acorn waved away Stump's objection. "And besides honey is always better fresh." 

"I'm not going." Stump shook his head, gave up his search and flew to the other side of the clearing beneath a blackberry bush. He reached up and began eating the ripe berries. 

"Some friend," Acorn muttered. He flew a little closer to the hive. He could smell that wonderful honey. He hesitated then flew full force at the hive. He landed on it and drove his tiny dagger into the papery surface, sawing himself a hole. He was so close, the idea of all that honey was intoxicated him. 

Bees began to pour out of the hive and surround the little pixie. Acorn didn't hear the incessant hum of their wings and continued to saw at the hive with single-minded determination. Seconds pass and the bees' droning rocked the air with increasing intensity. 

Acorn looked up from his work and took in all the bees crowding the air around him. He worked his throat a little, "Uh . . . hi." He floated away from the hive as still more bees poured out of it and headed for him. 

Acorn turned in mid-air and flew across the clearing as fast as his wings could carry him. "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Murder! Bloody murder!!! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!"
Barely staying ahead of the ever increasing swarm of bees, Acorn crisscrossed back and forth across the clearing hoping the swarm would tire. 

"Stay where you are, you honey-hoarders!", he shouted even as he increased his speed to stay ahead of them. Looking back to check his distance, he missed seeing the tree in his path and flew full speed into it. His little body rebounded off the tree and fell to the ground to lay hidden beneath a clump of crabgrass. 

Hours later Acorn woke up feeling sore from head to foot, seated nearby was his friend Stump eating something golden by the fistful. Acorn sat up and scanned the sky for the angered bees. 

"Want some?" Stump asked with a hiccup as he held out his sticky hand. 

Acorn focused his eyes on the offered hand and realized that it is covered in honey. "Where'd you get it?" He said in a worshipful voice. 

"I snagged it while the bees were chasing you." Stump reached his hand into a pot by his side and pulled it out thick with oozing honey. 

Laughing Acorn reached into the pot and began his own feast. "Is there anything better than honey?" he asked before he shoved his sticky hand his mouth. 

Stump's only answer, being drunk on honey as he was, was a gentle snore, as he had passed out.

'A pearl of light'

A pearl of light
solid and unblemished
trapped in pools of beauty
the splendor of the soul
made alive by its presence
and the perfection of which
makes the stars weep.