Reality Skimming

Golden Souls by Lynda Williams – Post 13

An upset teenage Amel and harder-hearted Vretla Vrel
Golden Souls by Lynda Williams, is a story of Amel's envoy period. Illustrations are by Richard Bartrop.
Working out the grammar problem. Is he really Amel?
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Making a connection over the horse's plight

The horse tried to rise again. Its plight made Dela's tear ducts tingle.

Vretla sheathed her sword to help Amel get up, a red film lubricating her grip. "Break something Demish?" she asked him cheerfully, briskly checking him over for serious cuts.

Amel stumbled back, looking past her to the horse. From his expression, Dela guessed he felt for its suffering the same way she did.

"Amel?" The Vrellish woman did not understand why the horse was important.

Amel shuffled through broken glass towards the wounded animal.

"Amel!" Vretla caught him by the arm.

His eyes glistened with welling tears. "Why did you throw down the reigns?" He demanded. Impossibly for someone supposedly Purebood, he up-spoke Vretla pol-to-rel. There was no rank higher than Pureblood. Maybe he isn’t Amel after all, Dela thought. But the Vretla woman had definitely called him Amel. Could there be two black-haired men visiting Demora, escorted by Vretla Vrel and a Dem’Vrellish entourage named Amel?

"You said 'let go,'" Vretla contradicted Amel’s grammar by up-speaking him, instead. One of them had to be wrong.

"I said 'let up,'" Amel insisted, clearing up the pronoun problem by falling into line with Vretla's address. He was Pureblood! And if they’d got the grammar right, at last, she was a Royalblood, like Dela. But Vretla was no Demish princess. She was — something else.

An upset teenage Amel and harder-hearted Vretla Vrel

An upset teenage Amel and harder-hearted Vretla Vrel

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