Shifted

[Jordan Thyme]

One healing center in all of Britain. Yes, there was the hospital but it had never really completely gotten off the ground. Located next to the Sweet Dreams Inn, it was miniscule to say the least. Provisioners, Cobblers, Smithy’s, and the like were double and triple fold in the city. No wonder half the population were poor. A capital city should reflect the best, not the worst of the land it represents.

Dramora would help with this. Finally, there would be someone who saw the potential AND the problems. Finally, someone who would work with others for a common goal. Dramora not only had ideas, she was willing to hear those that OTHERS had. It was what they had been waiting for, her and Thom.

Thom. Part of her ached for the loss he’d gone through. The guardians had been a disappointment from the moment Bane…..She let that thought trail off. And then Trinsic. Not to mention the personal losses. The lives they’d let go of. She let the thoughts trail off. Bane, Trinsic, the shipwreck, the time in Merek’s jail cell. All of it accumulated to nearly two years of seven hells.

With a proverbial outstretched hand, this woman who Gillian had once thought she would truly hate, had changed the course of their stars.

 

[Jordan Thyme]

Dirt.

Skin.

Poor.

Tucked in every corner of the clustered streets of Britain, they huddle. The faceless people, nameless except for whatever insults those with heavier pockets choose to throw at them. I call them kindred. I call them family. They were me, years ago. They were me before my father and brother sold me to an overweight pirate who stank of whiskey and hadn’t washed in three months. They were me before the Rangers. They were me before Thom.

I’ve never gotten along with those who had money. Mostly because they almost never sought to use it for anything other than personal junk that only cluttered up their lives more. Like the ship captain I met with the entire collection of snowglobes. Exactly what does that accomplish? You can’t eat them. They sit on a shelf, collect dust, and look pretty. If you’re going to have money, have power, then do something with it. The expansion of healing in Britain is a good start. But healing them isn’t enough. They need food, they need to learn to stand on their own out of the shadows. The soup kitchen, similar to what was done in Skara when I was there, is the next step.

Gaylen should be told. Told that I’m home, kind of. Told that we’re…. No. Maybe someday. But not now. He made his exit, as did Morrow. No, for now I’ll concentrate on small steps.


Health.


Food.


Jobs.