Ucresia

Pronunciation: U-crease-ia

AKA: Ati

Hair Color: Black

Eye Color: Brown

Motto: Do right by your stars

Desires: For Leures to serve Thesl’s people

Weapon of Choice: Insight

 

Description: Ati held my hand. Her skin was as frail and crisp as the red petals once they’ve turned black. Ati was a girl when she birthed me. She was my father’s first lover, and he, her first. He used to tell her she was special; he used to say she was beautiful; he used to say he loved her. He had pursued her, seduced her, flattered and courted her as a boy in love though she was his family’s property–human chattel he needn’t have treated humanely let alone with affection. He could have simply taken her rather than charmed her. And, she had loved him. Truly and deeply. She had believed every sweet, seducing word. Perhaps if he’d simply taken her, she’d have suffered less. As it was, she loved him and he ceased loving her.

Discussion Questions For Ucresia?

 

  • What illness does Ucresia have?
  • Do you have a favorite scene?
  • What’s your favorite quotes?
  • What did Ucresia see in Laran?
  • How did you feel when she died?

I was born in the season of fruiting, the time when all things swell with sun-nourished life and ripen for their reaping. A child born on the cusp of fruiting and harvest is destined to give greatly or, if fortune weathers him harshly, sour and spoil so his life ends like a crop rotted on the vine, fallen useless to the earth. Whenever I misbehaved and complained, Ati would remind me of those opposing destinies. She’d rebuke me in her gentle way, telling me though the gods shape our fates in many ways, we have will and mind a grape doesn’t. Fortune throws us whatever way it will, but the landing is hard or soft as we make it. “Half your troubles are your own making, Leures,” she had said, and, glancing up, I’d seen her slight smile. “Too often you storm and vex the gods as if they owe you explanation for every stone you stumble over. They won’t answer, and you’ll keep stumbling all your days. Rise wiser. Make some good from your troubles.” In that false-manhood on the far edge of childishness, I’d lost patience with her optimism. “What good can I do when he won’t give me an ear? He won’t even look at me, but Sethre can steal my augury word by word and have him spellbound. Velthr sees it. He knows I’m the better.” “Is that what your priesthood is for? Proving your worth? I thought you were meant to serve Thesl’s people, not yourself. You know better, Leures. Remember, you were born for giving . . . And do rightly by your stars. Laran’s ignoring you doesn’t diminish your gifts or your purpose. Be the good fruit, son.”

GATES THE HOURS KEEP

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