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The Empty Envelope: Three Words That Were Never Meant to Be Earned
The terms were stated plainly, and the Cherokee met them
Beginning in the 1790s, under Washington and his Secretary of War Henry Knox, the United States adopted what it called a civilization policy. The offer was explicit and it was made in good faith by at least some of the men who made it. Take up settled agriculture. Learn letters. Accept the Christian religion. Govern yourselves by written law. Do these things, and you may remain where you are.
The Cherokee did them. Sequoyah completed his syllabary in the 1820s and a people became literate in their own language within a few years, which has few parallels anywhere. They founded a newspaper, theCherokee Phoenix, printed in two languages. They wrote a constitution in 1827, modeled deliberately on the American one, with a principal chief and a bicameral legislature and a supreme court. They built farms and mills and schools. Some of them owned slaves, which was itself part of the performance, because the planter was what the Southern states meant by a civilized man.
Then Georgia moved to seize their land anyway, and they did the most civilized thing available to a people under a constitutional government. They hired a lawyer and went to court.
They won. InWorcester v. Georgia, in 1832, the Supreme Court of the United States held that Georgia had no authority within the Cherokee Nation. Chief Justice Marshall wrote the opinion.
They were removed anyway. A treaty was signed in 1835 by a faction with no authority to sign it, and in 1838 the army came, and something on the order of four thousand people died on the road west.
Consider what had actually happened. A people had been given a set of conditions, had satisfied every one of them, had then satisfied the additional condition of using the legal system rather than the rifle, had won on the merits before the highest court in the country, and had been dispossessed regardless. There was no point at which they failed the test. There was no test.
And the terms kept moving after that. In 1879 Richard Henry Pratt opened the school at Carlisle, and civilization now required the child: haircut, language forbidden, name replaced, the whole program summarized in Pratt's own formula about killing the Indian to save the man. In 1887 the Dawes Act arrived, and civilization now required the dissolution of the common land itself into individual allotments, with the remainder declared surplus and opened to white purchase. Ninety million acres left Native hands under that statute. Each redefinition arrived at precisely the moment the previous one had been satisfied.
By the summer of 1893 the descendants of those people were on the Midway Plaisance at the Chicago world's fair, arranged by an anthropologist from Harvard along a graded strip that ran outward from the white neoclassical core, exhibited to a paying public as specimens of what civilization had overcome.
I want to be precise about what that is, because the ordinary words for it are all slightly wrong.
It is not hypocrisy. Hypocrisy requires a real standard that the hypocrite fails to keep. The standard remains intact and the man is measured against it and found wanting, which is why the charge of hypocrisy is survivable and why hypocrites reform.
It is not a lie, exactly, because many of the men who administered the civilization policy believed in it. Knox appears to have meant it. A good many missionaries meant it and some of them went to prison in Georgia over it, which is how Samuel Worcester's name ended up on the case.
What it is, is a word that carries the full moral weight of a standard while having no test attached to it. It sounds like a measure. It functions like a door. And because nothing is actually being measured, the word can never be satisfied. It can only be conceded, by whoever holds the authority to concede it, at whatever moment and on whatever grounds he chooses.
Call it an empty envelope. It has the weight and the seal and the official markings of a genuine document, and there is nothing inside it, and that is not a defect. That is the design. A real standard can be met, and a standard that can be met eventually must be honored. An empty one never has to be.
The mechanism was not confined to Indian policy. Mississippi wrote it into its constitution in 1890 with the understanding clause, which required a prospective voter to read a section of the state constitution, or to interpret it when read to him, to the satisfaction of the registrar. Note the final phrase, because it is the whole apparatus. The white applicant satisfied the registrar.
The Black applicant, whatever he knew, did not. The statute never mentioned race and never had to. It simply declined to say what interpreting meant and left the definition in the hands of the man behind the desk.
Every empty envelope works that way. The virtue named in it is real and worth having. The authority to certify it belongs to one party. And the certification is withheld from whoever was already unwelcome.
The second envelope is more recent and less bloody, and I have been on the receiving end of it in a corporate setting, from a supervisor who meant something other than what he said.
The charge was that I was not a critical thinker.
Now, critical thinking is a real thing with a real literature. Dewey wrote about reflective thought in 1910. Bloom's taxonomy gave it a structure in 1956. Educators have spent a century specifying what it consists of: evidence weighed, sources examined and their reliability assessed, assumptions surfaced, alternative explanations entertained, conclusions held provisionally and revised when the evidence moves. Those are criteria. They can be taught, demonstrated, and assessed, and I have spent nearly forty years in college classrooms doing exactly that.
Observe, then, what is missing when the phrase is deployed as an accusation in a meeting. No evidence is cited. No reasoning is examined. No alternative account is offered. Nothing is measured at all, because measurement is not the purpose. The phrase in that setting means one thing, and everyone in the room understands it:you have reached a conclusion I did not want.
That is why the charge cannot be answered. A man accused of a factual error can produce the fact. A man accused of failing to think critically can only think harder, in public, in front of people who have already decided, and the harder he thinks the more he confirms that he is the sort of person about whom the question arises. The accusation is unfalsifiable, which is precisely what makes it useful, and the irony sits there unremarked: an appeal to rigorous thinking that is itself the least rigorous move available.
I did not understand at the time that I was watching a very old machine run. The vocabulary had been updated. Nothing else had.
The third envelope I will not define, because everyone reading knows the word, and because the argument does not require me to adjudicate it.
I will point out only what can be observed about how it operates. It began as ordinary language inside Black American speech, an instruction to pay attention to how things actually work. It was taken up broadly for a period. It is now used almost exclusively as an accusation, and it is used by people who do not accept the older meaning and would not use the word in any other sense.
Ask what it measures and you will find the familiar emptiness. There is no set of positions one can hold, or decline to hold, that reliably clears the charge. There is no argument that answers it, because it is not an argument. It attaches to a conclusion the speaker dislikes, and it attaches after the fact, and its function is to place the conclusion outside the boundary of serious opinion without the labor of engaging it. The authority to apply it belongs entirely to the accuser. It cannot be met. It can only be conceded.
Three words, then, across three centuries.Civilizedin the nineteenth century.Critical thinkerin the corporate twentieth. The third in our own. Each time the same architecture: a word naming a genuine virtue, the authority to certify it held by one party, and the certification redefined the instant someone unwelcome satisfies the terms.
Here is why this belongs in a religious argument rather than a political one.
A lawyer once asked Jesus what he must do to inherit eternal life, and was sent back to the law, and answered correctly: love God, love your neighbor as yourself. He was told he had answered right. And then, Luke records,willing to justify himself, he asked one more question.
Who is my neighbor?
That is a request for an empty envelope, and it is worth seeing clearly what the man was after. He was not confused. He wanted a definition of neighbor that he already satisfied. He wanted a boundary drawn where he was standing, with the obligation stopping short of whoever he had in mind, and he wanted it certified by a rabbi so that he could go home justified. The question was not an inquiry. It was a request for a category he could pass.
He did not receive one. He received a story in which a man is beaten and left on a road, and two men with unimpeachable religious credentials pass by on the other side, and the man who stops is a Samaritan, which is to say a foreigner and a heretic, a member of the group whose religion the questioner considered a corruption of his own.
And then the question was taken from him and handed back inverted. Notwho qualifies as my neighbor, but which of these three proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell among thieves.
He had come for a boundary and was given a road. He had come for a definition and left with an obligation. Every category he had brought into the conversation was dismantled in the telling, and the one thing the parable refuses to supply is the very thing he asked for.
This is worth sitting with, because it is the single clearest instance in Scripture of the mechanism I have been describing being confronted directly, and the confrontation is not gentle. The two men who pass by are not scoundrels. They are the men with the credentials. They are the ones who could have produced, on demand, a fully satisfactory account of what the law required. They knew what the words meant. They had the envelope, and they walked past the man on the road with it in their hands.
There is a word in current use for stopping on that road, and it is not a compliment.
I am not going to tell you what to conclude from that. Sheldon did not tell his congregation what to conclude either. He put a ruined printer at the front of a fashionable church and had him ask a single question, and then he let the people sit in it.
I'm always so grateful when I share and learn from this man... In this essay he forces us to think, doesn't he? So I wanted to support his words--you can listen or not to the videos I've added. It really is something that each of us must decide for themselves. Like the last video presenter, a retired Evangelical Pastor who got caught up in just how much has changed since his own group led the voting that got us where we are today... still trying to understand...
As we have come to recognize more and more, there is only one reason--one goal--by the present administration of the federal government... It is to lie, cheat, destroy, while making criminal acts in which money flows...one...way...only... Upward and outward from the United States as a nation... Before I started on another non-fiction book about all that is happening, I spent more time with Regime Change in light of the major tech race now going on among tech leaders and the government.
The major reason that the average citizen of any country must be aware is that it is now known that implementation of AI requires high levels of water and electricity. And, that, data centers are now being built to accommodate those needs... What we don't know is WHY tech giants would decide to place these facilities in areas where there is already a known problem with water and power being available for residents... Questions automatically arise, why wouldn't these companies' planning include the important environmental review to ensure availability of natural resources?
If we were reading a science fiction novel, we would automatically assume that the tech owners, or the government, are the villains and some small group of good guys whose goals include saving the world are fighting for the people and their rights to these same resources of water and electricity. After all, we have become a world that has recognized basic needs for saving humanity and the earth... Why must this type of fight occur over and over and over?
But we are not reading fiction novels, are we? We are in the midst of an ongoing sense of distress, violence, greed incited through the avarice of those who, while already rich, continue to seek out reasons for wars, extreme competition among corporations, the government, and between and among other countries... And, worse, many claiming it is being done in the name of their specific religion or set of rules/guidance that were written in ancient times, but still referred to as a basis for action today--daily increasing in scope and levels of horrendous actions.
And so it was that we already knew that the entire established area of U.S. federal government's work to at least keep up with known advancements across the world, has on a rapid, or sometimes, hidden manner been destroyed as an internal knowledge-based department. In fact, we have learned that the head of the federal government knows little and rarely uses any type of computerization by which he could gain and learn about where those tech giants were headed.
In this case, it took one complaint, a personal opinion, that led to what has already been completed with little awareness by the average citizen.
And that led to a threat by the president that the newly elected head of Intel should...be...removed... After all, he was known as the firing master for people when he was elected... But nobody ever believed that thousands of people would be subject to firing under this administration...
What we also know is that this leader has shown that his ego drives most of his actions. While claiming loyalty and obedience, it also goes only one way. Also, he is easily impressed with toys, gadgets, awards, anything that will enrich his opinions of the life he requires and is due to him. And so it was, that two men came in one day and showed him the potential of AI graphics... You all know what I mean...a method by which he has been identified as a king, a pope, a warrior, or anybody he knows as "his" equal... even Jesus healing people...
And that, ladies and gentlemen, was his introduction to the potential of AI and he loved it, laughed at the millions of ways he could be seen in ruling the world as he feels it should be, no matter who gets hurt during that activity...
One group that did not automatically accept the "happy talk" from their leader was many in the MAGA movement. Up until recently, their leader had been harking back to the good old days where women had babies and stayed home to be there for their husbands, while white men would rule all corporations and all government activities including forgetting what we all called The Golden Rule which had rarely been a part of those men who had figured out how to have and retain lots of money... Big Tech was seen by the Right as liberals who were out to destroy our nation. They were worried when the Big Beautiful Bill had inclusions for Tech companies that allowed them much more flexibility than ever before. Even his former News speaker Sarah Huckabee Sanders and Ron DeSantis of Florida spoke out against the plans being discussed... They got the answer that Trump would do it anyway through Executive Order... Even Tucker Carlson "demonized" AI???! And referred to Mark of the Beast from Revelations! (Kinda hard to imagine how a computer can be a demon, isn't it? But then again republicans have called all democrats demons as well... Surprise--even Steve Bannon opposes AI... But greed/deal making was too much for Trump to pass up...
What's that old saying about pot calling the kettle black...
Isn't it strange how people can actually create methods by which they can "rightly" feel prejudice, bias, or just plain hatred...
Anyway, the key issue is that a deal was made by Trump with Intel's new leader... To get 10% of the company "for the government..."
Now I know that some of you may automatically think what I did... And just how will that 10% be spent by Trump in his lame duck era... that is, if it is not determined to be illegal for the federal government to actually own a piece of a corporation which could also possibly be getting money from that government? Yes, the Chips Act, originally initiated by Biden to help begin bring chips producers back to the United States, was now being used, by Trump, to grant Intel $8.9B... The Power Deal was easily viewed... The Federal Government had forced a private corporation into giving away 10% of the company's product... Note: that I do not intend to do further research on this... It's my personal opinion, that we should be working together, as was often done in the medical fields, to increase and share knowledge across the world. On the other hand, we have already seen AI being used for discrimination, and a planned reduction of personnel by companies now using AI... It is clear that when a federal government is not on top of commerce, but is driven by the money-people, there is bound to be conflict and questionable use of new products... We know that this administration has no desire to work with anybody but rich countries from whom more power and money can be obtained...
From Intel’s perspective, the company had traded equity for certainty, converting a shaky promise into guaranteed capital. But the power dynamics were unmistakable: A sitting President had effectively forced a publicly traded company to hand over a large ownership stake as the price of receiving money it had arguably already earned. Recalling the episode months later, Trump would say, “I should’ve asked for more. It was so easy.” The deal was stunning for another reason altogether. U.S. intelligence officials who were monitoring the situation experienced severe whiplash. Like Tom Cotton, many in the intelligence community had serious concerns about Tan serving in such a strategically sensitive role given his deep history with China. And in the space of less than a month they had witnessed the President demand the removal of Tan and then turn around and give him his full-throated endorsement—all without anything resembling a serious investigation or policy process. But the deal was done. And by the fall of Trump’s first year back in office, Big Tech was doing very well indeed. Intel had lived to fight another day. After the government had acquired 10 percent of the company, others looked to invest in the new, Trump-backed Intel. A month after the deal, Nvidia said it would buy $5 billion of Intel’s stock, acquiring about a 4 percent stake in its competitor. Nvidia and Intel then announced they would join forces to develop and manufacture new custom chips. Jensen Huang, meanwhile, had trillions of reasons to be happy with the Trump presidency. In October, Nvidia would become the first company ever to reach a valuation of $5 trillion. President Trump had “completely changed the game” for AI, Huang declared. And nobody could doubt that he had... Trump’s mind meld with Huang would create an administration policy that largely sidelined the AI naysayers and charged ahead in a rush to unleash innovation and growth in AI development. Companies like Meta agreed to build massive data centers in the U.S., promising thousands of jobs and untold economic growth. Administration evangelists like the tech investor David Sacks portrayed this as the next great frontier for America, comparable to President John F. Kennedy’s space program in the 1960s.
--Haberman, Maggie; Swan, Jonathan. Regime Change: Inside the Imperial Presidency of Donald Trump (p. 267). Simon & Schuster. Kindle Edition.
So, with a final reminder... AI requires massive amounts of water and electricity. There is no mention of Trump's concern about this important resource shortage/lack of control on behalf of citizens... What else can we expect???
“You’re lucky I didn’t leave you in that barrel. I was tempted, you know.”
It’s a part of you now, but it doesn’t have to dictate who you are or what you do.”
You’ll need to tread carefully and keep vigilance over any changes to your mind and body.”
My thoughts on the above for video created by YouTube
This is the first time I've listened to this... I found it... Unsatisfactory... Somehow a dramatization of a book does not match the actual book itself, except with the inclusion of the characters... At the same time, however, it appears that this is giving too much away to make it something that MOST of real reviewers are aware of... you don't give away significant parts of a book if you are an avid reader that is...that's the difference with AI? Check out my discussion 8/31/26 later today to possibly evaluate the difference from a Reader..." In fact, this doesn't sound like the first book I read???
Flynn chuckled, grateful for the distraction. “I will see what I can do. But knowing my luck, it is more likely to come with a lifetime of awkward statues and songs sung out of tune.”
Prepare to enter into a world of magic and a bit of science--like you've never experienced before...
“Think of it like this,” he began, his voice steady. “When you make glass, you take raw materials—sand, lime, and soda ash—and subject them to intense heat. The materials melt, their individual properties intertwining in the fire, until they form a new substance altogether. Something fragile, yet resilient. Something that holds both beauty and danger in its transparency...
She pushed open the cabin door, the familiar creak of the hinges welcoming her home. The space was small but comfortable, with a few personal touches, a blanket draped over the bed, a small chest for her belongings, and a lantern that cast a warm glow over the room. Orion was just about to collapse onto the bed when a sound caught her ear—a faint, almost imperceptible noise coming from the direction of the barrel she had placed the orb in earlier that day. She froze, her heart skipping a beat as she listened. There it was again—a soft, rhythmic thumping, as if something inside the barrel was trying to get out. “What the hell…?” she whispered, the alcohol-fueled haze in her mind quickly giving way to a surge of adrenaline. She glanced around the cabin, her eyes narrowing as she spotted her pistol resting on the bedside table. Without hesitation, she grabbed it, her hand steady despite the lingering effects of the ale. She moved cautiously toward the barrel, her breath shallow as she tried to make sense of the noise. The thumping grew louder as she approached, more insistent, like a heartbeat echoing in the confined space. Orion tightened her grip on the pistol, her finger hovering over the trigger. “What did I drag out of the ocean?” she muttered, her voice low and tense. Orion waved her free hand in the air to levitate the lid of the barrel off while still gripping the pistol with her other. With the lid hovering in the air, she peered inside, her eyes narrowing as she prepared for the worst. What she saw wasn’t what she expected. Instead of some monstrous creature or dark artifact, there was a man—a man curled up and sleeping in the barrel. His presence was so absurd, so out of place, that for a moment, Orion just stared, too stunned to react. The initial surge of fear that had gripped her faded, replaced by a rising tide of anger. “What the hell is this?” she hissed, more to herself than to the man in the barrel. She had expected to find her orb, the strange and powerful object she had pulled from the ocean earlier that day. Instead, she was looking at a stranger who had somehow taken its place. Her thoughts raced, where was the orb? Who was this man? And how did he end up on her ship? Her patience, already thin from the alcohol and the long day, snapped. Orion kicked the side of the barrel, the loud bang echoing in the small cabin. “Hey! Wake up, you bastard!” she shouted, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and confusion. “Where’s my orb?” The man stirred, blinking groggily as if he had just been roused from a deep sleep. His eyes were unfocused, and he looked disoriented as he struggled to sit up in the cramped space. “What…?” he mumbled, his voice thick with confusion. He pushed himself upright, his head emerging from the barrel as he looked around, clearly trying to make sense of his surroundings. Orion took a step back, her anger faltering as the man’s face came into view. Her breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, time seemed to stop. There was something about him, something she recognized. Her mind raced to connect the dots, but her body reacted faster. It was him. The face she had seen on countless wanted posters, The Marked Wraith. Panic surged through her, a cold, sharp wave that cut through the lingering effects of the alcohol. Without thinking, Orion reacted. She slammed the barrel lid down with all her might, the lid catching the man squarely on the head. The force of the blow knocked him back into the barrel, his eyes rolling back as he slumped into unconsciousness. Orion stood there, chest heaving, her heart racing. She hadn’t meant to hit him that hard, but the shock of recognizing him—the most wanted criminal in the land—had thrown her off balance. She stared at the closed barrel, her mind spinning with a thousand questions. The Marked Wraith, here, on her ship. How? Why? And where the hell was her orb? She could hardly believe it, but the evidence was right in front of her. The man in the barrel was the same one on the wanted posters, the same one who had terrorized the region for years. And she had knocked him out cold. Orion took a shaky breath, her thoughts racing. She needed to think, to figure out what to do next. But first, she needed to get her bearings. She had the most notorious outlaw in the land on her ship, and whatever had brought him here was likely connected to the mysterious orb she had found. She didn’t know what he wanted, but one thing was certain, she was in way over her head. “Was he here to finish me off for knowing about the orb? Did he fall asleep while waiting for me to get back?” Orion's heart pounded in her chest as she stood over the barrel, her thoughts racing. She took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside her. The Marked Wraith, the most notorious criminal in the land—was unconscious in a barrel on her ship. And she had no idea what to do next. With trembling hands, Orion quickly held down the lid and locked the barrel shut, securing it with a thick rope she found nearby. The last thing she needed was for him to wake up and cause more trouble while she figured out her next move. As soon as the barrel was secured, she stumbled back to her bed, her legs feeling like jelly. The adrenaline rush was starting to fade, replaced by the lingering effects of the alcohol. Her head was spinning, and her mouth felt dry as a desert. Without thinking, she grabbed the jug of water sitting by her bedside and began to chug it down, desperate to sober up. The cool liquid soothed her parched throat, but it did little to calm the whirlwind of thoughts in her mind. When the jug was empty, Orion wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and sat down on the edge of her bed, her pistol clutched tightly in her lap. The barrel was locked, but she wasn’t taking any chances. She wasn’t about to let her guard down, not with him so close. She kept her eyes trained on the barrel across the room, every muscle in her body tense and ready to react at a moment’s notice. She didn’t know how long it would be until he woke up, but she would be ready when he did. The seconds ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity. Orion’s mind raced with questions, her earlier thoughts resurfacing with even more intensity. Who was this man really? Why was he here? And where was the orb? The thought of the orb sent a fresh wave of anxiety through her. She squeezed the pistol tighter, her knuckles turning white. The Marked Wraith wasn’t just any criminal—he was a legend, a ghost, someone who had eluded capture for years. And now, by some twist of fate, he was on her ship, under her roof. The realization made her head spin even more. Orion glanced at the barrel, her stomach churning with a mix of fear and determination. She had to stay sharp. She couldn’t afford to let her guard down. Not until she got some answers. As she sat there, waiting in the dim light of the cabin, her thoughts drifted back to the bounty poster she had so carelessly crumpled up and tucked into her bra. The face on that poster had seemed so distant, so unreal, just another tale spun by drunken sailors and gossiping townsfolk. But now, that face was here, in her cabin, and the reality of the situation was starting to sink in. Orion stared at the barrel for what felt like hours, her mind a storm of conflicting thoughts. She knew she couldn’t just sit here forever, waiting for him to wake up on his own. She needed answers, and she needed them now. The orb was too valuable, if not too dangerous to leave in the hands of a criminal, no matter how notorious he was. She also knew the orb wouldn’t come back to kill her if she sold it for money. Steadying herself, Orion rose from the bed, her pistol still clutched in one hand. She approached the barrel slowly, every step measured and deliberate. The earlier surge of adrenaline had faded, replaced by a cold determination. She wasn’t going to let fear control her. She placed the pistol on the table next to her, within easy reach but not in her hand, and took a deep breath. With a wave of her hand, she used her levitation magic to tip over the barrel violently, careful not to open it. “Wake up,” she said firmly, her voice steady despite the knot of anxiety tightening in her chest. “I need answers, and I’m not going to wait all night.” The man inside stirred, groaning softly as he regained consciousness. His eyes fluttered open, and he blinked in confusion, trying to make sense of his pitch-black surroundings. It took him a moment to realize his eyes were, in fact, open. “Where’s my orb?” she demanded, her tone leaving no room for evasion. “I know you took it. And don’t think I won’t turn you in for that bounty if you don’t tell me what I want to know.” The man was still disoriented. “Orb? What orb?” he mumbled, trying to piece together what had happened. His head throbbed, a dull ache from where something—he couldn’t quite remember what had hit him. “Don’t play dumb with me,” Orion snapped, her frustration bubbling over. “The black, shadowy orb I pulled from the ocean. You know exactly what I am talking about.” He rubbed the lump over his head, wincing at the pain. “Lady, I do not know what you’re on about. The last thing I remember is… well, honestly, I do not know. But I definitely did not take any orb.” Orion narrowed her eyes, her grip tightening on her magic as she began rolling the barrel. “Don’t lie to me. I could turn you in right now and collect enough to set me up for life. The only reason I haven’t is because I need to know where that orb is. But make no mistake, I’ll do it if I must.” The man’s sense of anxiety sharpened as her words sank in. “Turn me in? For what?” he asked, his voice edged with confusion and rising concern. “What the hell is going on here?” “You really don’t know, do you?” Orion asked, a mix of disbelief and suspicion coloring her tone. “You’re the Marked Wraith—the most wanted criminal in the land. The bounty on your head is enough to make anyone rich.” His eyes closed trying to grasp onto any memory involving any of the accusations. “The Marked Wraith? You’ve got the wrong guy. I don’t even know who that is.” Orion wasn’t convinced. “Right. And I suppose you don’t know why I found you passed out in a barrel on my ship, either?” The man grimaced in the barrel, struggling to sit up. “Look, I don’t know how I got here, but I’m not who you think I am. I just—wait a minute.” The man pressed his hand to his head again, trying to regain some memory. “Are you alone? When I came to, I saw you with a gun pointed at me, and then something hit me over the head.” Orion’s face flushed with embarrassment and anger. “That was my levitation magic, you idiot! I didn’t realize who you were until it was too late.” “What the hell kind of mage uses a gun?” The man scowled, his temper flaring. “Levitation magic? And you’re still using a gun? What kind of mage needs a gun when they’ve got magic at their disposal?” Orion pushed the barrel further with a hard kick, her anger rekindled. “The kind of mage who doesn’t take any chances, especially when dealing with a criminal like you!” “I’m not a criminal! And I’m definitely not this ‘Marked Wraith’ you’re talking about. You’ve got me all wrong.” The man yelled, his body twisted awkwardly in the barrel. Orion stared at the barrel, her resolve wavering. His indignation seemed genuine, but she wasn’t ready to let her guard down. “Then explain why you’re here. Explain why you were in that barrel.” “I would if I could,” the man muttered, rubbing the back of his head where the lid had struck. “But I don’t have a clue what’s going on. Last thing I remember… I was in a fight. Then everything went black, and now I’m here. Wherever here is.” Orion’s suspicion deepened, but so did her curiosity. He didn’t seem to be the cold-blooded outlaw she’d imagined. But that didn’t change the fact that he was here, on her ship, and the orb was missing. “I don’t believe you,” she said finally, though her tone was less certain than before. “But for now, you’re going to stay right there until I figure out what’s going on. And if you try anything funny, I won’t hesitate to turn you in.” He sighed. ‘Fine. But if you’re going to keep me here, at least let me out of this damn barrel. My legs are cramping.” Orion hesitated, her finger twitching toward the pistol on the table. She didn’t trust him, not yet—but she needed answers, and she wasn’t going to get them with him stuck in a barrel. Slowly, she opened the barrel lid and took a step back, keeping a watchful eye on the Marked Wraith. “Get out, but don’t try anything,” she warned, her voice firm. The man stood up slowly, unfolding himself from the cramped space. He rubbed his stiff limbs, his clothing was cinched all over as if they had been burned. His once battle-ready robe now looked like tattered short sleeves, as though he’d been working on a construction site for years. The man then looked at Orion with a mixture of annoyance and curiosity. “My name is Flynn Ashford. Now that I’m out, let’s talk. What’s this orb you keep going on about?” Orion crossed her arms, keeping her distance. “You tell me. You’re the one who was in the barrel where I left it.” Flynn shook his head, clearly baffled. “I swear, I have no idea what you’re talking about. But I’m starting to think we both might be in more trouble than we realize.” “Get out, but don’t try anything,” she warned, her voice firm. Flynn stood up slowly, unfolding himself from the cramped space. As he stretched his stiff limbs, Orion’s eyes locked onto something on his arm, a mark. Her breath caught in her throat as she recognized it: the Hero’s Mark, a symbol she’d seen only in stories and legends. Her heart pounded as realization dawned. This was Flynn, the infamous Marked Wraith. The sight of that mark made her blood run cold. Before Flynn could react, Orion snatched up her pistol from the table and pointed it directly at him, her hand steady despite the turmoil raging inside her. “Don’t move!” she barked, her voice trembling with both fear and anger. Flynn froze, confusion and alarm flashing in his eyes as he saw the gun aimed at him. “What the—?” “You can’t hide it from me,” Orion interrupted, her voice low and dangerous. With her free hand, she reached into her bra and pulled out the crumpled wanted poster she’d taken earlier. She held it up for him to see, her grip tightening on the paper. Flynn’s gaze flicked to the poster, and his face went pale as he saw the image of the Marked Wraith staring back at him. Orion’s eyes blazed with anger as she thrust the poster toward him. “You’re Flynn, the Coward Hero. The one they all say ran away and became the Marked Wraith. You think you can just show up here, with that mark on your arm, and expect me to believe you’re innocent? Start talking, or I swear I’ll shoot.” Flynn stared at the poster, his mind reeling. “I—wait, what?” He glanced down at his arm, at the Hero’s Mark he had almost forgotten he bore, and then back at Orion, who was now visibly shaking with a mix of fear and fury. “I’m not the Marked Wraith,” Flynn began, but Orion cut him off. “Don’t lie to me! The Hero’s Mark is right there on your arm! You’re the only person in the world who could have it. You’re Flynn, the hero who abandoned his friends and turned into the most wanted criminal in the land. Now tell me where the orb is, or I’ll end this right now.” Flynn swallowed hard, his mind racing as he tried to make sense of the accusations that were thrown at him. He could see the determination in Orion’s eyes, the way her hand didn’t waver on the gun. She wasn’t bluffing. “I don’t know what you’ve heard,” Flynn said carefully, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender, “but I’m not who you think I am. I’m Flynn, yes, but I didn’t turn into a criminal. I don’t even know what this Marked Wraith is. And as for the orb—I don’t know where it is. I don’t even know what it is.”
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This discussion is based upon a book introduced by the author to me on BlueSky. Please note that on Amazon, there is only one book by this author. The book I am discussing. Note that there are elements of a video on this book that I have questioned. Please be sure you get the right book if you wish to get the book I've reviewed.
With what could only be called a prelude to a major fantasy extraordinaire, upfront I want to confirm you have my full endorsement of this book. In fact, as the book closes, there is a hint of a follow-up, perhaps even a series, or a trilogy... What I know right now is that I want to read on...
Readers will meet a major character who will continue throughout this novel. He had a team of four who is involved with defending the world from its darkness... Flynn is a young man in his early 20s who, by chance, had stopped to help a young couple who was fighting off the destruction of their village. Yes, this is both a mystical setting as well as historical, perhaps even ancient history... What we do know is that it is a magical world in which there is both good and bad magic... The team was drawn to Flynn, perhaps because he had a tattoo (?) on his arm revealing he was/is a hero. When he had been helping the village leaders who were both dying, the magic insignia had to be continued, and they had chosen Flynn to receive it...
Readers will find Flynn to be somewhat humble and unsure that he should be seen as a hero. Since his arm declares him so, he works hard to live up to what he believes he has not earned... A "hero" after our hearts, you might say. In their latest challenge, one of the team gets hurt and needs to be helped out of the area. Flynn is the only one who remains to fight the evil monster. He does not win... Nor does he actually lose. He has been enclosed into a type of Orb and lay on the bottom of the ocean for 5 years...
The sea was calm today, its surface vast, like a mirror that reflected the clear sky above. The Wavechaser cut through the water smoothly, its crew working in harmony to bring in the day’s catch. Among them was Orion, a young mage. Her presence on the ship was both a necessity and a curiosity. She had always been driven by the promise of discovery, her heart quickening at the thought of uncovering something extraordinarily valuable beneath the waves. Orion stood at the edge of the deck, her sharp eyes scanning the ocean’s surface as she extended her hands, casting her magic into the depths below. The familiar warmth of the spell spread through her fingertips, sending pulses of energy into the water. Fish were drawn to it, their sleek bodies rising in response, and soon the nets were filling with a bounty.
In a world of magic, readers soon learn that everyday needs are routinely met in the most efficient manner, mostly by magic. So it was that we meet Orion, a young woman you might call a fisherman if she wasn't a mage instead... But, her chosen life is running a boat on which her skills are used to help the local men who daily work to find a catch that is both needed and helpful to the community. Orion has been using her mage skills to bring in a bounty each day that has been serving the village for many years... And today was no different, except... Orion found something in the catch that didn't belong. She called it an Orb, perhaps a priceless one that she could use to sell and become more than what her life now was...
But it didn't take long for her to proceed with handling the catch of the day and ultimately proceed on home to where her tired body could rest awhile... But curiosity was too much for Orion to wait, she ran to where she had hidden the Orb planning on opening a crate and learn more about her prize... As she entered the storage room, she heard tapping come from the crate... It was a little later that she opened the crate and found...a...man... Running for her pistol, she held the gun toward who we soon realized is Flynn--5 years later...
The writer has ensured that readers actually enjoy what is happening. Soon the characters are joking and smirking at each other, and laughing during the communication exchange that had been hidden for so many years. Flynn soon learns that Orion has the credentials of a mage of importance, even while she daily fishes... Still, Flynn's arrival and, soon, a recognition that her prized Orb might, in fact, be Flynn soon changes her life...
For Orion is well aware of all that has been happening during the last 5 years. Then, noticing, his arm insignia, she remembers that history had said that the Hero had run away and had turned dark... Only Orion is aware that she had caught the Orb from the sea, and had brought him directly from the sea to her present location. She was confident enough in her own magical skills to consider that what had been told was not the real Truth... Still, Flynn had been accused and needed to figure out how to clear his name, since he was being hunted with bounty posts showing his face!
As Orion and Flynn begin to feel more at ease with each other, Orion in particular begins to listen as she hears the true story of what happened to Flynn--that a spell had placed him to sleep for 5 years and it was only her pulling him from the sea that allowed his awakening! Now what? She had counted on the Orb to be something that she could sell and gain a nestegg for her future. Now, with that hope slowly dissipating, she became interested in what Flynn was saying... And, more specifically, that he could not have been the criminal committing acts of horror with dark magic. He hoped to find a way to investigate what had happened and prove his innocence. Orion knew of only one place that might fulfill his need... And a thrilling story awaits us!
During my lifetime of reading and watching movies, I've admire each writer's version of their characters who fight for good... But, I've also noticed that most bad characters always have similar types of attributes, such as greed, authoritarianism, power-hungry, et.al., this book follows the same understanding of what makes a perfect villain or group of bad guys, LOL... Gallant, in his story, however, has used magic to explore those who make up the new team that have chosen to help Flynn prove his innocence... They bring various types of magic skills for our awe and wishful thinking, while at the same time, possess and share their very human traits of a need for friendship, pride in their work, and a kind of gentleness, sympathy and empathy that is possessed by those who are recognized for their lives as they work to treat others as they realize they want to be treated...
A very brief overview of the primary characters in this major part of the book emphasizes what we readers watch as time moves forward in the town of Silverpeak...
Silverpeak is what you might call a "gated community." With guards... Without prior permission, you cannot even enter without some type of magical mana... Other than that, there is a mayor, a town council and various businesses, most selling products made internal by the citizens... Children play magical games in the streets... There is a pub where citizens gather to laugh and listen to music... But there is also the bounty board of criminals who are wanted--yes Flynn is there showing different horrible pictures as he seems to be deteriorating after each act of madness committed...
We find that Orion is able to automatically get into the town based upon her extensive credentials. She has Flynn dress as a woman who Orion is apprenticing and so both of them enter. But right from the beginning the guards question the pair... Soon, a young woman, a caricature it seems of an older child, who skips, teases, and then nicely asks Orion and Flynn to come with her... It is clear that she is a mage and will not take no, even as she politely laughs and skips ahead as they follow... Who or what is this young girl who acts on behalf of the mayor himself?
Victor, we learn, is a powerful mage, older, perhaps 40-45... He approaches the new couple in somewhat a friendly manner, even though neither feel they can trust him. But he is willing to help Flynn discover what happened to have his face shown as a criminal. Indeed, he was told to get rid of the female costume and given what, in essence, was a suit worn by a criminal with special markings to identify him as such...
Victor's plan is to work to get both of these individuals into better physical shape by starting a daily training program. Victor sees potential in Orion and hopes to recruit her for his own purposes. His aide, Gemini, is paired with Flynn. Her training for him is a full day of dodging her magical beams at him... It is clear that she is not winded, while Flynn is barely able to move at the end of the day... Of course, he has been asleep for 5 years!!!
But one day Flynn suggested they play hooky from training... And Gemini, naively realized that she'd never had a friend...and enjoyed being with him, especially after Flynn bought her a hairpin with a cat face...
And the third member of Flynn's team was on her way to what was destined to happen...
A caution, with magic, lots of physical violence takes place in the second part of the book. At the same time, the entire book presents a chilling atmosphere, one of being on edge that at any moment, something could happen, even when you know it is planned in advance. A later addition to the team is seriously injured and had to be taken to see a medical mage... The how, the why, the where, and the when are what pulls readers forward as we see our Hero become more secure in knowing that he was indeed working for good once again... Do have to say that one scene toward the end forced a squeamish response or two, as a result of a sword incident LOL... but it just added to the extraordinary story of seeing magic working to save the day and the town... at least as a beginning... I'm hoping the next book is soon ready!
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