Character Spotlight - Willow Kent
(featured 5/5/15 on Art Over Chaos)
I can’t sleep. I’m cold, I’m hungry, and it’s black as pitch in this windowless room. The cot squeaks every time I move—curse the thing, it’s hardly big enough to hold the two of us. There’s just no way to get comfortable.
And China’s snoring again, for heaven’s sake! She won’t stop, not even when I dig my elbow into her side. All she does is roll over and take my half of the covers with her. Och! Must be nice to sleep so soundly on an empty stomach.
Mine won’t leave me alone. It’s rumbling like a grouchy old bear. I tried my best to fill it tonight, but there were too many miners in the tavern and not enough stew to go around. All I got was a measly slice of leftover bread—with a dollop of butter that tasted like the onions Mum keeps in the cellar.
I’ve no right to complain, though. There are folks in this village who go for days without food. Tem and I see them on our way to education, slumped in doorways or digging through garbage for whatever scraps they can find. The worst part is when the wee ones come begging at our door. Grindel can’t bear to turn children away. He tears off bits of his sandwich for them, even though he should be keeping it all for himself.
I wonder if the people in the Core ever go to bed hungry. It doesn’t seem likely, with all the technology they have. Garron says they scoot around in metal vehicles and light up the whole city at night without candles. There are laser weapons, and food vendors on every corner, and clothes they don’t have to sew for themselves. At least, that’s what the patrols tell him. He’s never been to the Core.
Neither have I, but I want to go. I could get in, if I scored high marks in class, and besides, there’s no future for me here. China might be content serving ale until she’s old enough to get married, but that’s not the life I have in mind. I don’t want miners and ragged dresses and a growling belly every night. I don’t want a husband, and I don’t want this village.
I want answers.
I want to know about the hooded man. I want to know the reason he came and the reason he disappeared. I especially want to know about the dagger he left behind. It’s tucked under my pillow right now, a deadly blade with razor-sharp points and dazzling jewels embedded in its hilt. A gift from a man I never knew, for reasons known only to him.
The answers are out there somewhere. But I’ll find them. And nothing is going to stand in my way.
Photo credit: Blog Tour Banner by Ashley Ruggirello, REUTS Publications
