Samuel Robinson

“NOTE: The character of Aoleon is deaf. This conversation takes place in the book via sign language...

“Feeling a certain kind of way Aoleon?”
She snapped-to and quickly became defensive. “What in the name of the Goddess are you on about?”
Shades of anger and annoyance. The old Aoleon coming out.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t poke at you like that. It’s okay you know. There’s nothing wrong about the way you feel.”
As if suddenly caught up in a lie, Aoleon cleared her throat and ran her fingers absentmindedly over her ear and started to fidget with one of the brass accents in her snowy hair.
A very common nervous reaction.
“No…I mean…well I was…uh...”
“Aoleon, I know about you and Arjana.” he admitted outrightly as he pointed at the drawing.
She coughed, stuttered, smiled, but could bring herself to fully say nothing. Words escaped her as she looked about the room for answers.
“My sight is Dįvįnë, lest we forget. I knew you were growing close.”
“Yes. Well…she’s…something else.”
“Indeed?” he responded.
Images flashed briefly in Aoleon’s head of her father’s old friend. Verging on her fiftieth decade of life. She was a fierce woman by all accounts. One who’d just as soon cut you with words as she would a blade. Yet, she was darling and caring towards those she held close to her. Lovely to a fault; in a wild sort of way. Dark skin, the colour of walnut stained wood. Thick, kinky hair fashioned into black locs that faded into reddish-brown tips that were dyed with Assamian henna; the sides of her head shaved bare in an undercut fashion. Tattoos and gauged ears. Very comfortable with her sexuality. Dwalli by blood, but a native of the Link by birth although she wasn’t a Magi. Magick was her mother’s gift.
“I heard her say something very much the same about you once Aoleon.”
“Really?” Aoleon perked up right away. “Did she?”
“Yes. After she first met you in fact. Nearly exactly.”
Aoleon’s smile widened and she beamed happiness. She sat up assertively and gave a curt nod. “Well, of course she did.”
“She’s held such a torch for you for so long that I was starting to wonder if anything would actually come of it.”
“Yeah. Both you and Prince Asshole.” Aoleon exclaimed with a certainty that was absolute as she once again tightened up with defensiveness.
Samahdemn walked his statement back. “Peace daughter. I didn't know your brother had been giving you a row about her. Then again, he is your brother. So anything is possible.”
Aoleon sighed and nodded. “Not so much problems as he’s been giving me the silent treatment over it. Na’Kwanza. It’s always Na’ Kwanza.”
Samahdemn nodded knowingly and waived a dismissive hand. “He’s just jealous. He always has been.”
“So I’ve noticed.”
“Why would you hide it? Why not tell me?”
“I don’t know.” she said; shrugging her shoulders. “I didn’t know how you’d take it I suppose.”
“Seriously? You were afraid of rejection? From me? Love, have I ever held your individuality against you? Have I ever not supported you or your siblings?”
She shook her head; a bit embarrassed that she hadn't trusted him. "No, I suppose not."

-Reflections on the Dįvonësë War: The Dįvįnë Will Bear Witness to Fate”
― S.H. Robinson