*****The edge of the storm has passed my city. Very little damage, keeping the coast in my thoughts.*****
This 8-10 sentence blog hop is hosted by The Weekend Writing Warriors. (Click the link for the list of participants, or rules if you want to join!)
This is a WIP, NaNoWriMo 2016, currently called River, Tree, Mountain. It’s science fiction, set on a colony planet, six generations in–with about 10% of the population born “marvels,” who have special abilities like dowsing, healing, or creating fire. The protagonist, Rekka, is a spark (fire), signed a contract with Brenton to provide him a child, moves in with him, and more than a year later, is outside painting when L, the pink haired man, shows up and starts rummaging in his bag for something–his last line “I have something to make up for…”
“For?” Rekka prompted.
“For?” he blinked at her, hand still in his backpack. “Oh, right, for my rudeness in forgetting…” he paused to rummage more, and then finished triumphantly, “your name!”
L lifted a small wrapped bundle to the light, and then folded his fingers around it while he stuffed everything else back into his backpack. That achieved, he snagged her hand with his free one, and deposited the bundle on her palm, smiling broadly.
For a moment, Rekka was caught in the pure pleased good humor of that smile, then she dropped her gaze to the object in her hand. He’d wrapped it in a twist of pale blue fabric, something cut raggedly from a larger piece, and fraying, threads tickling her hand.
She poked at it, finding a seam, and unrolling, until she revealed the object nestled in the curl of cloth—a carved wooden bird, feathers cut into the pale wood, and sections dyed black and yellow, making the carving recognizably a goldfinch.
“This is very well done,” Rekka tipped it this way and that in the light, admiring the thin, curved cuts, which brought the otherwise simple shape to life.
“Thanks,” he ducked his head, ruffling his hair, “it reminds me of you.”
* * *
Life on the colony planet of Kaibou was going uneventfully until the second generation of colonists was born on the planet, at some, at a young age, began showing various psychic abilities. When those people, called marvels, grew up, many of them formed companies, building compounds to live in and raise their children. Due to population diversity issues, many colonists have children using genetic bank material, or choose a succession of partners. Now on the seventh generation, marvels are born both within and without company walls, and all must work together to use their gifts and make a living on a still wild land. Some of these outsider marvels sign contracts with company marvels, agreeing to give them a child raised within the company, in return for a permanent home in the company compound, a stipend, and other concessions.