Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Special: a little bit of Eliac

"Hail, Eliac of-the-soul faery, Lady of the White Council, Magi of the waves!"

I have been ordinary my entire life, minus the fact that I am brilliant. A true genius. Just not at the average things. I am a genius in legends and mythology, social intrigue mastery, basic patterns of interaction.
I used to be more, though. Much more. Heads would bow at my approach, because I was the chosen one, the one to end all others. I was to lead the Roses to an age of prosperity and unison, of temporary peace through clever tango dances. I was a head of power, a Lady of the white, something to be feared and respected for my knowledge, my clarity, my grace, talent, and beauty. I was a being of intense ability. I was looked up to by beings that children are taught to fear, those that men go on fearing.
Now I'm just a girl, because archaic law dictates that no Consort may be as espoused by a Lady of the White Council who bares the mark of approval for the age. Now they've kicked me out, the ungrateful bastards, because I fell in love and became inactive. I miss it. Miss the challenge, miss the authority, the sense of a double life: that even if I was just me, I was also a genius who could kill anyone who bothered me if I were really angry enough to, could cure anything, out-fight anyone. I was a lady of high society... now I am nothing.
I can just be myself. Isn't that what every Tom, dick, and Harry would council? Be myself? I am being myself. Myself is a genius, and nobody cares. I could burst open like a star and the world would recognize my brilliance, but I would go out, wouldn't I? And they'd all forget.
I'd do anything for any person, and nobody cares. Nobody cares that thousands bowed to me as I passed once. Nobody cared that I stopped war time and time again, they don't understand how it effects them. Nobody cares that I was Elear, the Visionary, and Eliac, the wave-servant. (Try that for a mundane mouthful: The visionary wave-servant. See why we use Elvish yet?) No one will listen to a useless adolescent girl, one without money or title or beauty, will they? I'm average again. I'm invisible again. Only even though I'm stuck to an un-charming Clark Kent 24/7, I can't be superman anymore, because I'm in love.
They're punishing me for an act I could no sooner regret than die.
I miss being Eliac. I miss knowing instantly who was what and what was who, and being able to twist situations I disliked into ones I did like. Michael... Lord Ignio.... nary bandies a word with me any more. (He was not disowned for his wife, but I was for my future husband. Explain that to me, please? Yet another example of a Patriarch-based legal system.) Even in our Government, I'd have to work for status I would be naturally suited to. It's a fucking adult Prom court. They like you? Great. Hope you're good at your job. They dislike you and you're brilliant? Too bad, they still dislike you. Ah, America. The country full of assholes.
Meanwhile, Finley can't even stay with me at night. It isn't even a sex thing, it's a together thing. Neither Nan and Derek nor Mom and Pops would agree to sleeping in different houses every night, and in the second's case it's okay for them to be alone in their room, but by God, when Fin and I are taking a nap in my room, the Kids might see and that is NOT okay! What a nasty, impertinent group of children! Typical. Another slanted-system based on that Seniority I still, as a Senior, call bullshit flag on.
I'm always lonely, now. I can't do anything for anyone that I could have done before, I have almost no money, and I'm lonely.
I need him. I need not to have to deal with this fucking disease anymore. I need Secret-Keeper to have money and happiness.


Right now, all I really want... is a challenge I know I can rise to. Who else is good at Social intrigue besides Faris, that damnable ex-Siragon, who in any case has not responded to my letters?


I must sleep. I must pretend.

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