Julina provides reports of life in Blackstone. This is her introduction to herself.

 

Julina of Blackstone
Her Chronicles

by Julia Phillips


000 - Let Me Please Introduce Myself

The original characters and plot of this story are the property of the author. No infringement of pre-existing copyright is intended.
This story is copyright © 2013 - 2020 Julia Phillips. All rights reserved.

It uses some of the associated characters and situations that arise from the world called ‘Anmar’ created by Penny Lane, whose stories
are also copyright © 2010 - 2020 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

Blackstone is a small, decaying, high mountain community at the very end of one of the many mostly straight Chivan roads that abound in our country of Palarand. Our nearest ‘real’ town is called Tranidor, some 2 or so days’ journey southwards. The Blackstone River, more of a stream really, dribbles its way westwards out of Blackstone Vale and joins the freshly-born river (also a stream) named the Bray. The waters, joined here and there by other streams from the not-so-frequent canyons that populate the valley walls, then scurry and gurgle their way southwards through the Bray Valley to join the larger Palar River at Tranidor. This river then rushes ever down the Palar Valley, eventually to join a river called, I am told, the Sirrel at a town called Dekarran, which is the capital of our province, North Palarand.

My knowledge of such distant parts is simply by hearsay, having been only twice to Tranidor in my life, both times for a single overnight, both times as a babe in arms. I know of course, from conversations, of the towns down the valley as far as Dekarran; and that there is a wondrous city at the centre of Palarand where everyone is rich and have carefree lives, richer even than any of our Town Councillors!

My name is Julina.

I am a resident of Blackstone, one of a group that can be numbered on two or three hands who are still referred to as ‘children’ despite the counting of our years. I am the eldest of our family, apart from, of course, my Papa. My Mama left us not long after she explained the soon-to-be-expected changes in my body to me. I wonder if she knew somehow that her end was near, she having been trampled by a panicked frayen in the high pasture. A group of dranakh had seen off the threat from a cruising grakh, but not before Mama had been struck by a fleeing frayen, blind in its panic, which then trod on her. I now run the household for us all — Papa, me and my 5 younger siblings - yes I have a full hand of brothers and sisters; as a family, we were blessed with a much lower than normal rate of young children deaths. Mama had taught me some letters (we practiced with chalk sticks on one of the walls of our hut) and had taught me also some of the ‘delights’ ahead for me as a woman in a high mountain township community.

Men have it all so much easier, that’s for certain. A neighbour, who I had many talks with, also had (still has, actually) strong views that we women could be so much different if we could only get a chance.

Chances, however, were things that seemed very few and far between to us as we grew.

Even fewer and with bigger distances between them, when those animals led by Trogan turned up.

A close community like ours has many currents in it, but we all accept that life is hard and we do what we can. Some are open about what they do, whilst some (the Cobbler for example) are slimy and underhand — how they ever had such a nice person as Jasinet, I shall never know.

But Trogan and his thugs made life so much harder and more depressing. Papa’s normal routines were completely disarranged and I had to stay out of sight as much as possible and keep the kids out of trouble. We were trying to hide in plain sight, as it were, and every day that went by, it was more and more difficult.

Papa was then the designated man of the town for inspecting the roadside borders and ditches, and also for reporting which roadmarks need some maintenance. Sometimes, he did the work himself, but normally he would return and arrange a working party. His responsibility was supposed to be as far down the road as the junction with the Chaarn road, a full day’s journey, but Trogan refused to let him leave town on some excuse or another. An excuse that changed every week, it seemed. And the tax demands were crippling everyone, a burden particularly on those whose business was so restricted.

And then came the Lady Garia, our new Baroness, along with Prince Keren, son of our King, no less!

That was quite the entrance!

Mercy me! Now we females KNOW that we can do so much more.

And she brought with her her own scribe! And the scribe herself was a Lady! Lady Merizel. She had had delivered to herself a fantastical new thing they call paper, which is like parchment but so much lighter and easier to use. We discovered that it takes charcoal markers very well. I say we, you have noted. Yes, the Lady Merizel helped me so much; she was (and I fervently hope, still is!) so very, very kind. She even left behind some of her precious paper for those who wish to improve their skills. Master Jepp, the town’s Scribe is going to set up some school here for everyone, not just silly boys.

I have already told Mylady Merizel and Master Jepp that I wish to record my impressions of life around here. They are so supportive — even to the extent of already giving me some of the precious paper. So I am about to embark on a series of word-sketches to help others understand our life here a little better. Something I hope that my children will be able to pass onto their children, and they onto theirs and so on. This will reduce the otherwise inevitable exaggerations and distortions, ensuring a more accurate story is conveyed to future generations.

... ... ...

So that was what I wrote back then. Now I am many years older and have rediscovered my naive scribblings from back then. But I am pleased, as they have indeed fulfilled the ideals with which I started.

This was my dearest wish as I started out on what was to become an astounding and long journey, a life of which I was then totally unaware.

Blackstone has changed out of all recognition nowadays, and when I revisit, I am constantly amazed at not only the developments but also the astounding foresight shown by our Baroness, and the Palarandi royal family. And the ingenious ways in which problems were resolved.

So I have become determined to share those early scribblings with a wider audience.

And I will start with that close neighbour and friend mentioned above; even though she was then more than double my age when I first set this to paper, I was proud to call her ‘friend’.

I trust you will deal with me kindly - I was young and largely untutored when I started ...

Yours in hope,

Julina (of Blackstone)