a guilty mind needs to confess

Gabriel de le Poer · 01-05-2010, 04:52 PM

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257.

In Character

There was very little time for anything less then practice, then training, then survival here. Nova Scotia was a hard place, and the world surrounding them was hard. Inferni had survived because it was made up of those who could survive—people like Gabriel, whom had made it through fire and water and hell and back, whom had wanted no more then to find somewhere safe and comfortable for his children to grow up. They had not even been able to do that; sent off when the threat of death was all around them, raised by their god-mother and her peculiar brother. Ezekiel had spoken about the two when he lay, crippled, for weeks on end in Gabriel’s home. Something had changed in his son then, changed him from the carefree boy he had once been. He and Talitha had both been scarred by this place.

She sounded like a child herself, and he was glad, for the moment, to have her presence at his side. The tambourine that she handed him was well crafted, and very pretty. He admired the craftsmanship as much as he did the art, finding merit in both things. Gingerly, he passed it back to her, then did something he did not expect. “Here,” he said, and passed her the sketchbook. In it was his entire past—drawings of the Scintilla members and the vistas of Utah, of Faolin and his children when they were young, and several far darker things that were all nightmares he could not bare to let go.

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