Unity of the Divided

Chit Chat

Tonight, I'm craving kale. With that thought in mind a meal looking nothing like that served by the kitchen, their delicacies seemingly prepared by a chef with fifty years' experience, and I suspect been divorced because of their dedication to culinary arts, appeared on my white plate. Unfortunately, a woman whose pasta always has a little crunch of impatience whenever she boils it served the meal on my plate. The woman is me.

"Would you mind.." Selene trails off as her golden eyes look from her plate to mine from her seat in front of me. Her blonde curls are pulled back in a half up style, skin pale with lips plump and red in a sharp contrast.

Without a word a bowl of leak and potato soup with crusty white bread appears in front of her and she breaks into a wide smile with perfect teeth. I look to Tora sat on her right, she picks up the spoon with strong fingers and dips it into the meal before Selene can protest.

It doesn't go unnoticed the way Selene watches Tora's lips as she brings the spoon to her mouth.

She nods in approval, and I make a second serving. She hands the spoon back to Selene and the blush in her cheeks at their slight brush on hands has me covering my mouth to hide my grin. I make eye contact with Jolen sat to my left and he sends me a knowing look.

"You ready for my order?"

I look down the table to the right at the question, there sits Leonard and the three other Malis' he brought from Imalan. Each representative is allowed to bring as many supporters as they wish. I settle my gaze on the one who asked the question, and I don't hide the way my eyes run the length of what I see. A man looking younger than Leo meets my eyes, dirt brown hair falls into his colour matched eyes that hold a slight twinkle of humour, dark skin covering well-muscled bare arms.

"Get in line Arthur," says Tezerra from his seat on my right.

"I must've missed the grand opening of my restaurant, because I don't remember agreeing to cater" I say, rolling my eyes.

"I've been coming here for years," Tezerra teases, "you must be new."

I lean back in my chair, hands resting on my stomach, "can't say I'll be staying long."

"Why's that?" Tezerra pouts, feigning disappointment.

"They treat the staff terribly," I yawn, "considering I'm the waitress, chef, and food runner."

Selene laughs, Tora smiling.

"Your one-woman show is most admirable," calls Arthur from down the table.

At that, what I imagine he'd have asked of me appears on his plate, he looks down, picking up his cutlery quickly as he sends a thank you nod in my direction. Tezerra spins in his chair, sending me an incredulous look. I merely tuck my hair behind my ears and side-eye him as I reach for my fork.

"Compliments are a wonderful form of payment," I say, creating a little green pea in my palm, "a currency you're poor in."

He throws his hands up, whipping his head away and refusing to look at me. I place the pea against the fork, pulling it back and aiming for his ear. In my peripheral I see Selene watching with glee in her eyes, hands raised to cover her mouth as she holds in her giggles. I meet her golden gaze and grin, releasing my hold.

I place the fork down quickly as I sit up. I know it met its mark by the surprised noise he makes, and the snort Tora lets out, so I fake nonchalance. His eyes light like flames, burning into me as I look anywhere but him. The crystals of the chandelier appear most enchanting this evening.

Those eyes don't let up though, so I slide my gaze to his, raising my hand and pointing my thumb at Jolen. I fake a look of disbelief as I blame my ability trainer. That's until my eyes slide to his and I see the annoyance etched into his features. I gulp, looking to Selene. Her eyes widen, mine widen, and we both look to Tora. Tezerra is still glaring daggers at my head.

Tora looks pointedly from his plate to me, then again so I definitely get the message. With a sigh I wave a sorry hand, a meal appearing on Tezerra's plate too. Gone are his thoughts of a Creation-skin rug as he digs in greedily.

"My foods gone cold," Jolen states, speaking for the first time this evening.

I turn, feeling slightly guilty as I look at his plate. He was the only one of us to have that which the Caedaw staff provided. Him and his good manners had him waiting for us all to settle. The best I could do is set a fire to heat it but I feel that's a little ridiculous. I send him a sorry look, the others mumbling apologies.

As we begin eating, discreetly I make a small portion of apple crumble next to his plate. I don't have to look to know a rare smile, small but there, is gracing his older face at the sight of his favourite dessert.

The wicked grin and gleaming eyes of Mara plague my thoughts as I sit and watch the stars. A moment alone is a blessing when you're one of six spectacles gracing unifier for the Divide and the absence of distractions has my thoughts running wild.

My now eagerly awaited participation in the personal desire decider had delighted Mara, the same for many others if they could look past their shock at my decision. When the war against Creallians ended, it did so because of my lack of control. Although, letting go of control was a decision I actively made.

Instead of the good uses I'd equipped my ability for, like crop production, infrastructure, etcetera, an evil motivation crept in, fuelling the weapons, weather disasters and the chaos. I became cruel, forcing people to watch scenes I created that portrayed their worst nightmares, torturing their bodies and wrecking their homes. It's a common misconception that creation has to be good. Stemming from the way Des and I are opposites, and he is so negative with the way he uses his ability it only seems right that I am to balance his destruction. But that is incorrect.

The sound of people draws my attention, a group leaving the gardens at Caedaw and heading for the homes that hold the residents of unifier. It's not a far walk to the houses and stores located behind the palace, separated by grey cobbled paths and lit by lanterns. According to the council the closeness of it all is for the purpose of equality. I say if so, then why do you live in a marble palace and they in stone and wood.

My thoughts drift back to the Divide. Sustenance is tomorrow and I'm eager to get it done. No joy in me is sparked by the idea of swinging at fellow representatives and bleeding from my knuckles. My hands hold no marks of fighting, the skin smooth and soft but this is deceiving. The skill is easily equipped and the mindset in near reach thanks to Tora and Tezerra. They'll be watching me tomorrow, all four of them among the crowd of excitable dimwhits. I'd like to make them proud, to show off their hard work through my succession in the decider. The thought inspires a newfound determination in me, and as this day draws to a close and I make a move to my room, I leave it feeling a little more confident.

As I step into my room a white slip of paper on my bed has my full attention. No protection stands between outsiders and this room, yet it is expected that one shouldn't enter when the inhibiter is absent.

I feel tension coil in my shoulders as I cross the room quickly before snatching it from the bed, narrowing my eyes in suspicion.

The stars you share your thoughts with I envy
For the attention you mesmerise them with is a gift I wish to receive
They provide light allowing me the blessing of a glimpse of your beauty
For the stars I am thankful

All thoughts leave my head as I reread those words and butterflies flutter in my stomach. I can't help the wide smile as I stare at the paper, the thoughtful words making me want to giggle. It's silly for me to feel so giddy over caring words, especially considering I can't afford the distraction, yet I do a little twirl.

My fingers catch a slight raise on the back, and I flip it, wondering if my admirer has more to say.

What I'm not thankful for is how little belongings you possess, lavender.

My smile quickly turns to a scowl, and I scrunch the paper in my fist, balling it and throwing it between my hands. Maveth has been here, written me kind words to soften the blow of him rummaging through my things, I know because of what he calls me, lavender.

Mid-throw I set the paper alight, carrying it on a current of wind as I spin it in the air. He'll take any opportunity to get insight into his opponent, Maveth isn't above twisting the rules, dipping slightly into the morally grey. It's been so long since I've been a notable threat it seems he's forgotten what a mistake it is to make me an enemy.