there are two colors in my head
Reverend Samuel teaches that within every soul there are two natures. Not good and evil, right and wrong, or selflessness and selfishness, though these exist and are potent. But beyond all these are the inclinations to follow God's will and to fight it. The crown is missing; they will use an alternate. The reverend will not participate in the coronation; Chancellor Hanson will read the benediction in his place. Lucinda moves to straighten his tie; he stops her short with a word and fixes it himself.
Jack arrives at Unity Hall by motorcade, the flags flying and banners hung. He climbs the cold marble stairs between rows of the King's Own and can almost hear it--the roar of the crowd, the horn's call, whistling and rejoicing for the new king. But there are no cheers. There is no jubilation. The streets are empty, cleared of civilians by the Royal Guard to prevent civil unrest. He looks away.
Inside, the hall is filled with people, a hand-picked audience kept in line by as many guns. His family has been seated on one side of the throne against their will. Lucinda and their Ministry supporters sit along the other. He kneels upon a pillow mere feet from where yesterday a man was gunned down for objecting to this very spectacle.
This is a God who judges. Goodness pleases as wickedness displeases, and both earn their reward in kind. But a good deed can obscure God's designs. Efforts undertaken with evil intent can still fulfill His goals. The selfish act can serve God, because who will help you if you do not help yourself? The selfless act can betray God, because to a God who calls His servants by name, how can your life be exchanged for any other? Moral absolutes do not apply. The will of God is not a value judgment. It is not an exaltation or a condemnation. There is simply a plan."Our cause it just; our union is perfect. As we unified our lands, unify our purpose." Chancellor Hanson reads words written for a different man, for a different end to a different war. A blessing for a different king.
"Guide his eyes, mouth, hands - that they see Your goals, speak Your words, build monuments to Your gifts."
The ground shakes in Shiloh. A king walks the streets below, and behind him come an army of tanks. David rides at their head.
From the coronation hall, Jack watches them approach. He's moving, getting up and casting desperate glances around him, stepping toward the window-- but he can't feel it. His breathing slows and he watches. There is nothing else to do.
His uncle calls to him to run.
In this world, there is a way things should be and a way they should not. Every soul can feel it. Every soul holds these two humors within it and between their undulations has a choice. To turn away from God, or to return to Him.Jack is halfway to the escape tunnels when it hits him. This is his only chance. If they make it to the airfield, William will have a plane waiting. It will take them out of the country, outside his father's reach, somewhere safe to regroup, to- to what?
He stops. To what?
In the elevator up Unity Tower he pulls out his PINpoint, prying the back off, pulling out what looks to him like its internal circuitry. What pieces come free he drops and crushes beneath his heel. Lucinda has her own; if she needs to escape he trusts she will. But they will not find a path from his body to her. He gathers up the pieces and scatters them across the observation deck. The rest he throws in the trash. Once more, he looks out across Shiloh.
He takes the elevator back down. In front of the throne Jack will never have, his father is already back to threatening his people.
"William Cross, Jack Benjamin... where are they?" An uncomfortable silence is the only reply. "I ask once more with words, and then with blood."
"I'm here." Voice echoing through the hall, he descends stairs that minutes ago led to his crown. His dreams. "I'm not going to run. Not anymore." He doesn't look at David, only at his father. "You said I couldn't be what I was; God said I couldn't be what I wanted. There's nothing left for me... but to die."
Eyebrows raised, Silas does not respond.
"Do it. Go on," he goads, calm cracking in the silence to a desperate whisper, "Finish it; I'm ready."
The problem is, what God has planned is not always the ending you expect."We can think of worse things for you than death."
The same guards that lined his coronation now take him to his cell. Only it isn't a cell at all, but a bedroom in Altar Mansion, not his own but lavishly furnished and equipped with the finest facilities. His laughter is silent and hollow as his eyes while he waits.
"I pictured prison colder," he jokes emptily to Thomasina when she opens the door.
Which is when he sees Lucinda in the hall. She didn't leave. She isn't safe and she didn't leave-- When he gave her the PINpoint, she said I'm not going anywhere without you, but he thought when she was frightened, she would-- he hadn't imagined she was serious. She doesn't even have her bag. The PINpoint isn't with her. "She had no part in this," is all he can say to protect her.
"Her part she'll be glad to play," Thomasina begins. There, that sinking dread Jack thought he had already moved beyond. "Your father wants for you a living death, to brick you into a wall with someone who loves you, who you can't stand the sight of," Jack's eyes flick to Lucinda, her small arms curling in on herself, "Until you produce an heir, which Silas will take, and raise right this time."
Lucinda runs to embrace him. He feels sick.
"Thomasina, love--" he follows her, desperate, stopping inches from her turned back. "Please. You've known me... since I could crawl."
"You went against the family; you're not charming anymore, Jack."
"Don't do this--" Begging, Jack catches her arms as she moves to leave.
"It's not so hard." Thomasina pulls her arm away. "Just close your eyes, and dream of someone who's dead."
She shuts the door.
Where you see only the chapter and verse, God sees the book. He sees all the books. And each line for Him is only progress toward a goal.
[dialogue © canon]
Jack arrives at Unity Hall by motorcade, the flags flying and banners hung. He climbs the cold marble stairs between rows of the King's Own and can almost hear it--the roar of the crowd, the horn's call, whistling and rejoicing for the new king. But there are no cheers. There is no jubilation. The streets are empty, cleared of civilians by the Royal Guard to prevent civil unrest. He looks away.
Inside, the hall is filled with people, a hand-picked audience kept in line by as many guns. His family has been seated on one side of the throne against their will. Lucinda and their Ministry supporters sit along the other. He kneels upon a pillow mere feet from where yesterday a man was gunned down for objecting to this very spectacle.
This is a God who judges. Goodness pleases as wickedness displeases, and both earn their reward in kind. But a good deed can obscure God's designs. Efforts undertaken with evil intent can still fulfill His goals. The selfish act can serve God, because who will help you if you do not help yourself? The selfless act can betray God, because to a God who calls His servants by name, how can your life be exchanged for any other? Moral absolutes do not apply. The will of God is not a value judgment. It is not an exaltation or a condemnation. There is simply a plan."Our cause it just; our union is perfect. As we unified our lands, unify our purpose." Chancellor Hanson reads words written for a different man, for a different end to a different war. A blessing for a different king.
"Guide his eyes, mouth, hands - that they see Your goals, speak Your words, build monuments to Your gifts."
The ground shakes in Shiloh. A king walks the streets below, and behind him come an army of tanks. David rides at their head.
From the coronation hall, Jack watches them approach. He's moving, getting up and casting desperate glances around him, stepping toward the window-- but he can't feel it. His breathing slows and he watches. There is nothing else to do.
His uncle calls to him to run.
In this world, there is a way things should be and a way they should not. Every soul can feel it. Every soul holds these two humors within it and between their undulations has a choice. To turn away from God, or to return to Him.Jack is halfway to the escape tunnels when it hits him. This is his only chance. If they make it to the airfield, William will have a plane waiting. It will take them out of the country, outside his father's reach, somewhere safe to regroup, to- to what?
He stops. To what?
In the elevator up Unity Tower he pulls out his PINpoint, prying the back off, pulling out what looks to him like its internal circuitry. What pieces come free he drops and crushes beneath his heel. Lucinda has her own; if she needs to escape he trusts she will. But they will not find a path from his body to her. He gathers up the pieces and scatters them across the observation deck. The rest he throws in the trash. Once more, he looks out across Shiloh.
He takes the elevator back down. In front of the throne Jack will never have, his father is already back to threatening his people.
"William Cross, Jack Benjamin... where are they?" An uncomfortable silence is the only reply. "I ask once more with words, and then with blood."
"I'm here." Voice echoing through the hall, he descends stairs that minutes ago led to his crown. His dreams. "I'm not going to run. Not anymore." He doesn't look at David, only at his father. "You said I couldn't be what I was; God said I couldn't be what I wanted. There's nothing left for me... but to die."
Eyebrows raised, Silas does not respond.
"Do it. Go on," he goads, calm cracking in the silence to a desperate whisper, "Finish it; I'm ready."
The problem is, what God has planned is not always the ending you expect."We can think of worse things for you than death."
The same guards that lined his coronation now take him to his cell. Only it isn't a cell at all, but a bedroom in Altar Mansion, not his own but lavishly furnished and equipped with the finest facilities. His laughter is silent and hollow as his eyes while he waits.
"I pictured prison colder," he jokes emptily to Thomasina when she opens the door.
Which is when he sees Lucinda in the hall. She didn't leave. She isn't safe and she didn't leave-- When he gave her the PINpoint, she said I'm not going anywhere without you, but he thought when she was frightened, she would-- he hadn't imagined she was serious. She doesn't even have her bag. The PINpoint isn't with her. "She had no part in this," is all he can say to protect her.
"Her part she'll be glad to play," Thomasina begins. There, that sinking dread Jack thought he had already moved beyond. "Your father wants for you a living death, to brick you into a wall with someone who loves you, who you can't stand the sight of," Jack's eyes flick to Lucinda, her small arms curling in on herself, "Until you produce an heir, which Silas will take, and raise right this time."
Lucinda runs to embrace him. He feels sick.
"Thomasina, love--" he follows her, desperate, stopping inches from her turned back. "Please. You've known me... since I could crawl."
"You went against the family; you're not charming anymore, Jack."
"Don't do this--" Begging, Jack catches her arms as she moves to leave.
"It's not so hard." Thomasina pulls her arm away. "Just close your eyes, and dream of someone who's dead."
She shuts the door.
Where you see only the chapter and verse, God sees the book. He sees all the books. And each line for Him is only progress toward a goal.
[dialogue © canon]