[Felix paced about his quarters, his journal laying open to a blank page.
He was not sure what to write about. Word had reached him that a replacement general had been chosen to take over the vacancy left by the death of the man responsible for giving the orders to crush his resistance by taking his life—but that was the least of his concerns at the moment.
No, he was more concerned for the Xianese conflict that had erupted into open war, per news given by Djinn messengers from both Eoleo and Piers. Piers had left northeastern Angara to head for the Sea of Time and warn them about the conflict—a dangerous journey and a risky move, given his banishment.
He’d had no idea until very recently just how bad the situation in that region had gotten; it had put into perspective Piers’s response that had sparked Felix’s unnecessarily hurt reaction. But he understood, now, and it had indeed come to this.
He wanted to urge Piers to bring his uncle to Lalivero, but how much safer would they really be? They couldn’t even find safety in the north, which had once been a perfectly demure picture of halcyon tranquillity. No—Bilibin was a growing threat there, too, and might choose to make a move.
At least if they came to Lalivero or Prox they would have a fighting chance—but there was nowhere left to run anymore. Not even Izumo would be safe if Xian turned its attention there.
He put his face in his hands, taking in a deep breath. Piers was a smart man; if anyone could find a way out of this, he would be it. There was little he could do from a continent away to help the man, but if he asked, Felix would do everything in his power to send what resources he could.
He sat down at his desk, closing his eyes and tilting his head back as he ruefully thought it all over.
What could he say to his friend now, at a time like this? He could offer no words of consolation…
…only…solidarity.
He opened his blind eyes, staring off into nothing.
Yes,solidarity. And that was a powerful word, was it not? One that had deeper weight behind it, one that would truly mean something.
Even thinking about it gave him a sense of strength.]
Echo.
“Yeah?”
Tell him that he is not alone.
[He sat up straight, his vision coming back to him slowly.]
I know he’s out there taking this on by himself. Source only knows the nightmare he must be facing right now, and I am certain he is under a lot of pressure.
But tell him I will do what I can to aid him. Whatever it takes within my resources and further influence… he does not face this fight alone. Tell him that.
“Anything else?”
[Felix put his face to his hands again and took in a deep breath, resisting the instinct to groan in weary aggravation at the whole affair.]
Not right now, Echo. It’s the middle of the night that far East. He needs what rest he can get, and I can’t think of anything more to say right now that would be of any help.
[With that, he dismissed the Venus Djinn to send the message, and put an elbow on the table as he shifted his weight.
He had a lot to think about, but he had work to do, too.]
No rest for the weary. But someday we shall see the Sun again. It seems all but impossible now… and yet I am all the more convinced it is true. I only pray it is sooner rather than later…
This is a text in defense of EU migration to the UK I wrote when I still had hope, on the last day before the referendum day: I think there are some misconceptions around EU migration to the UK that I feel I should counter. TL;DR: how the EU migrants are not so bad as some people would like everybody to believe. There is no narrative from the other perspective, I am afraid. But I am brave and I…
“HARD TIMES - I sincerely regret I’m unable these hard times a present to send, I can only just manage the label- Take the will, for the deed, old Friend.”
Oh my friends, the down-trodden operatives of Coketown! Oh my friends and fellow-countrymen, the slaves of an ironhanded and a grinding despotism! Oh my friends and fellow-sufferers, and fellow-workmen, and fellow-men! I tell you that the hour is come, when we must rally round one another as One united power, and crumble into dust the oppressors that too long have battened upon the plunder of our families, upon the sweat of our brows, upon the labour of our hands, upon the strength of our sinews, upon the God-created glorious rights of Humanity, and upon the holy and eternal privileges of Brotherhood!
Hard Times, Charles Dickens (1854)
The work of the American photographer Lewis W. Hine (1874-1940) has always looked so Dickensian to me. Half a century later, things across the Atlantic weren’t very different to Dickens’ novels. Yet, it’s even more scary (and shameful) the fact that today child labour is still a reality in some countries (not to mention the social conditions).
Btw, there’s an exhibition in Madrid that I’m very excited about devoted to Lewis Hine. Go if you have a chance!
