Jeneria: Defenders of Ausmik

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE - WORDS OF COMMENCEMENT

This was finally it, what Jenn had dreamed about for eight years. It was almost exactly like she had imagined it, except without her uncle by her side.

That night, Jenn rested well. Despite the day's tragic events, she was able to offset the horrifying images of Alba and Jesse with Councilman Gray's cowering expression—his desperate plead for mercy. But when the time came, she wouldn't hear his pleads—not after all that he'd done.

When Jenn awoke in the morning, she hopped out of bed, triggering the crystals beside her to glow red. After dressing herself, she collected her bow and sat with it, brushing the cold wood. Then she stood up and aimed her bow at the wall, viewing her distorted image through the crystal's reflection. She drew the string back, imagining Councilman Gray standing in front of her, and then fired an invisible arrow. It brought a smile to her face.

With a new squall of energy, Jenn headed for the main room where she found Lark sitting alone. Unlike the night before, he wore a pair of eyeglasses which, like her father, looked awkwardly small for his wide face.

When Jenn approached, she noticed that he was reading.

"Good morning," she said.

"Oh," said Lark, slightly startled. He observed her up and down. "All ready to march, are we?"

"More than ready," said Jenn.

Lark smiled.

"What are you reading?" said Jenn, seating herself across from him.

He looked down at his parchment. "It's the letter you gave us. I've been reading through it for a few hours now."

"Wow," said Jenn, "you must wake up early."

Lark looked back up at her, his eyes as kind as his smile. "I've always been somewhat of an insomniac. My thoughts often keep me up."

"Have you made any discoveries?" Lark looked confused. "About the letter?"

"Oh." He sighed. "No, I don't think so—except that it was written in gastro ink."

"What does that mean?"

"Not much," said Lark, "considering that I've never seen a pen that doesn't use gastro ink."

Jenn laughed.

Lark laughed with her, then took an orange from a bowl and held it up. "What do you see, dear?" His small eyes were focused on hers.

Jenn focused on it awhile before answering. "An orange?"

"And what color do you see?"

"Orange."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," said Jenn, now less confident.

"What if I told you I saw yellow?—Would you argue against it?"

"No, I suppose not—it does look kind of yellowish."

"But what if I said it was blue? Would you disagree?"

Jenn paused to think. "Yeah," she said. "I'd disagree."

"And what makes my conviction of blue so much different from yellow?"

"Well, yellow kind of looks like orange sometimes, so we just might see if differently. But blue is a lot different."

"I think I would agree." Lark took another orange and held it up. "If I asked you to describe an orange to someone who'd never seen or tasted one before, how would you do it?"