Boreal Witch

Moving. We are moving.

Sometimes it hasn't quite sunk in that pretty soon we will be on a plane to Chicago. About 2 1/2 weeks, in fact.

I've been making headway on cleaning out the garage. About 10 boxes have already been packed, mostly with books, puzzles, and games. Nothing we can't live without for a few months. I've bought packaging tape and consolidating packaging supplies. I've even started gathering together picture frames and piling them together. I've even (sob!) gotten rid of most of my sewing supplies and fabric.

Craigslist has been a really good means to get rid of this excess stuff. I don't mind fielding the calls and meeting odd people for the exchanging of goods. I do mind that most people seem to be rather flaky when it comes to picking up their stuff. And that makes me irritated because I don't have a lot of time left here and Craigslist is not Robinson's thing. He just barely tolerates Craigslist and the people who frequent it. Don't get me wrong - he has many other wonderful qualities that I love, but he's no help in the unloading of our stuff via Craigslist.

Our phone and email was ringing all afternoon and evening from people calling to ask questions about our merchandise and to make arrangements to pick it up. I'd say about 50% of our stuff disappeared. The rest is in limbo...waiting to go to homes because, well, people are flaky.

The garage is starting to look emptier. At least I have that.

Blessed be.

Dear Arthur,

This year you decided to have a big party at Chena Hot Springs and go swimming there. Since this would be your last party with all of your Fairbanks friends, we agreed.

You wanted to have sandwiches and chips with carrot cake and homemade vanilla ice cream for dessert.

It was a fun party. First you and your friends swam in the pool. Then you had lunch. Then you opened presents and had cake and ice cream. After that, you and your friends played at the playground and explored the surrounding area. The weather was pretty nice considering there was still so much snow on the ground. It was a lovely spring day.

This party, while amazingly fun, saddened me. I will miss your friends (and my friends) so much. Perhaps we will go up to Fairbanks someday and visit everyone.
 
 I hope that the next year brings you happiness, my dear boy. Sometimes I have trouble relating to you because you are so much like me. I see so much of myself in you and I may criticize you, but I still love you, faults and all. You are my firstborn and as such, you will always hold a special place in my heart.

Love, Mommy

Blessed be.

I love to write.

I've always had a big imagination. I made up stories as a kid. Stories about aliens, Bigfoot, spaceships. I'd jot these ideas down, crafting plot twists and developing characters. Sometimes I find these stories when I clean out old papers or files and I take a moment to savor them.

Some of my faithful readers have commented that they love my writing. I thank you for that. Deeply, in fact. I've been told on numerous occasions that I am a horrific writer, that I cannot string together coherent thoughts. Those comments came from my Master's advisor. They were heart-breaking. It's difficult to love something but be told that you utterly suck at it.

Fast-forward several years. I am no longer in a Master's program. I no longer have to deal with people who criticize me instead of support me. I want to become a better writer.

I have never posted fiction here and the only time I ever allow anyone to read my fiction is when I create backstories for my RPG characters (so if you did not realize the extent of my nerdiness, you do now).

I found some time tonight to write part of a piece I'm working on. Most of it is in my head, but I am hoping that I will be able to find more time to work on it. Maybe someday it will turn into something other than just a file in the cloud. Until then, here's the first installment.

I hope you like it, dear readers.

Blessed be.

* * *

Prologue

It was said that when war could not be waged, it would only be postponed.

For a century, this proved to be true.

In these hundred years civilians lived and died in honest living, unsuspecting the web of lies and deceit misguided politicians and military leaders whispered to another: The Nilian wanted freedom. The Tryska did not.

War, however, is not so black and white. An enemy to the Nilian is a hero to the Tryska, and it is the same for the Tryska and Nilian.

It was said that long, long ago Tryskan colonists inhabited the Daborr System, extending as far as they could possibly reach. Any planet that could sustain life did. These colonists built great cities and harvested resources while the Tryskan aristocracy unbuttoned their belts and devoured the wealth of the planets. At first, the people relinquished, indebted to the Tryska for their survival even though it was a single step higher than slavery.

Then came furious whispers of equality, freedom, and wealth for all. The Tryskan aristocracy attempted to soothe this burn, but it was too late. The Nilian movement, born from heated words and broken committments, proved an unfortunate development. It enveloped the poor, political, lovers of liberty, and bohemians alike; all who wished for nothing more than the means to live in the way they deemed fit.

Some colonies did not embrace the movement, but also they refused the Tryskan. These colonies remained neutral until one by one they fell with negotiated promises of health care, education, and expanded trade. Some supported the Nilian movement; others the old Tryskan aristocracy. In the end, only three planetary colonies remained fully neutral: Ploss, Kluane, and Vori. To this day, it is still so.

~ Exerpt from Daborr System: A History by historian and politician Jorroll F. Shren