{"id":3911,"date":"2021-12-25T19:45:30","date_gmt":"2021-12-25T19:45:30","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/jennielsen.com\/?p=3911"},"modified":"2021-12-25T19:54:26","modified_gmt":"2021-12-25T19:54:26","slug":"sages-gift","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/jennielsen.com\/archives\/3911","title":{"rendered":"Sage’s Gift"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

SPOILER WARNING: YOU MUST HAVE READ THE FALSE PRINCE FIRSRT BEFORE READING THIS. <\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

This story takes place during Sage’s time at Mrs. Turbeldy’s Orphanage for Disadvantaged Boys. Happy Holidays, my friends.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

SAGE\u2019S GIFT<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Carthya\u2019s annual Gift Festival has three rules. First, the gift must be made by the giver. I tended to be generous with myself when interpreting the rule. For example, the candle I was giving tonight hadn\u2019t been made by me in the sense that I did any of its preparation, or molding, or scent. However, I did play a major role in stealing it. I saw little difference between \u201cmaking it\u201d and \u201cmaking off with it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The second, and most important rule, is when the gift is given, the giver must offer a wish for the receiver. I learned years ago that a properly phrased wish could make all the difference.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For example, I might say, \u201cI wish you to be generous enough to give that candle back to me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Which is exactly what I did say twenty minutes later when I gave the candle to Mrs. Turbeldy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There is a third rule for the Gift Festival, which is that the giver can choose who receives their gift.  Mrs. Turbeldy made it clear every year that if we wanted to avoid a long stay locked in her cellar, we had better ignore that rule. All gifts from the boys who lived here were for her. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Including my candle, which wasn\u2019t exactly getting the highest praise from her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cA candle? It\u2019s the same gift from you every year. You think I want to see this place any better than I do now?\u201d Her eyes narrowed. \u201cWhere\u2019d you get it, Sage?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI think what\u2019s important is that I got it for you.\u201d I offered a smile, hoping to sweeten her opinion of the gift. \u201cAnd I wish you to be generous enough to\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGo away,\u201d she grumbled. \u201cMaybe the other boys have gifts I\u2019ll actually like.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I nodded and stepped out of the way for an entire line of orphans waiting with their wrapped boxes of hope. Nobody wanted a stay in the cellar.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cA comb?\u201d Mrs. Turbeldy yelled at the next boy in line. \u201cLook at my thick lustrous hair! What good is a comb?\u201d She threw it across the room and watched the boy sulk away, his fate sealed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

While she dared the next boy to come forward, I crouched low and picked up the comb, then slid it into my pocket. Halfway upstairs, one of the younger boys, a kid named Meeks or something, grabbed my arm. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHey, Sage. I know all the gifts are supposed to be for Mrs. Turbeldy, but I got one for you too. I made it myself.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIs it any good?\u201d I asked, holding back a grin. \u201cDon\u2019t give me something I\u2019ll just throw away when you\u2019re not looking.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

His eyes brightened. \u201cYou won\u2019t. look!\u201d He held out for me a ship carved from an old block of wood. I stared at it, longer than I should have, until he added, \u201cMy wish for you is that one day you can travel the seas. I know you want to.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOne day, perhaps.\u201d I pulled the comb from my pocket. \u201cNow don\u2019t ask if I made this. Just accept it.\u201d I leaned in closer. \u201cBut you have to keep quiet about this gift, or the other boys will feel bad.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Meeks-or-something grinned. \u201cThanks Sage! What\u2019s your wish for me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cUm\u2026that one day you will grow thick and lustrous hair like Mrs. Turbeldy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He laughed. \u201cI\u2019d better not.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I left him there and continued up the stairs. At the top I found Blotch. That wasn\u2019t his real name but it\u2019s what I\u2019d called him ever since we agreed to a truce over who was going dump who out the upstairs window. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I gave him the carved ship. \u201cMy wish is for you to take this and give me the gift in your other hand.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He stared down at it. \u201cThis looks like one of the eight-year-olds made it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat sounds about right.\u201d I stepped closer, daring him to refuse me. \u201cBut what do you care? It\u2019s just going to Mrs. Turbeldy anyway.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He frowned. \u201cI actually spent time on mine.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTrade me, Blotch or our truce is off.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He sighed and put his gift in my hand, a pretty ring made of imitator\u2019s gold. I turned it over in my hands. \u201cYou must\u2019ve worked hard on this one.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI did.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I rolled it over my knuckles then let it land back in my pocket. \u201cEnjoy your Gift Festival.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I gave the ring to a sort-of friend of mine named Ethan who was sweet on a girl in town, and accepted his gift of a new straw hat. The hat was ridiculous and wide and had a white ribbon around it, making me wonder if we were actually friends at all, so it went to a boy named Grover who was sitting on the floor staring down at what had once been a clay pot with a flower inside it. Now it was a loose flower sitting over a pile of dirt and clay pieces.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Grover was trying his hardest not to cry, and doing a poor job at it. \u201cMrs. Turbeldy is gonna kill me.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

In any other place, his fears might have been an exaggeration, but here, there was a decent chance he was correct. We\u2019d all heard rumors of boys who\u2019d disappeared after failing to give gifts. They were probably just stories, but nobody wanted to be the first to find out for sure.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Behind us, Blotch began laughing. \u201cThat\u2019s what you get for being so clumsy, kid.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No, that\u2019s what Blotch would get for tripping Grover. Later tonight, our truce would be over.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But for now, there was the matter of Mrs. Turbeldy not killing Grover. I knelt beside him and said, \u201cI think this will make a perfect gift.\u201d I pulled the ribbon off my ridiculous hat and threaded it over the top so that it could tie beneath the chin, then used the flower to decorate the side of the hat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCome with me,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Grover sniffed. \u201cShe won\u2019t kill me now?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWho knows? But she won\u2019t kill you for not having a gift. C\u2019mon, I\u2019ll go with you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We walked back downstairs together, reaching the bottom of the stairs just in time to duck when Mrs. Turbeldy threw a package of strawberries against the wall. \u201cI\u2019m allergic to these, boy! For that, I\u2019ll give you double duty on chores this week!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Wisely, the other boys had backed away, putting Grover and I straight ahead in her gaze.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I nudged Grover to walk forward. His hands were shaking, and when he got in front of her, he said, \u201cI thought\u2026I wanted\u2026I was going to\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I snatched the hat from his hands and gave it to her. \u201cIt\u2019s for the most beautiful orphanage keeper in this part of town.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mrs. Turbeldy blushed, though with her already reddish cheeks, it wasn\u2019t her best look. All the more reason for her to need this wide-brimmed hat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She tried it on immediately, though she had trouble tying the ribbon beneath her chin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHelp me with this, Groberg.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGrover,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He stared up at me, silently begging to be rescued from this task. But I couldn\u2019t help him this time. I had other business for being back down here.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

While he tied the ribbon, I swiped the candle back from her table of acceptable gifts and held it behind my back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHow do I look?\u201d she asked when Grover had finished.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cJust like before, only with a hat on,\u201d I replied. \u201cWe\u2019ll go now, let you enjoy your other gifts.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Grover followed me upstairs. \u201cThanks, Sage. Next year, I\u2019ll have a gift for you too.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI won\u2019t be here next year,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThen I\u2019ll get you a gift now. Anything you want.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I turned to him. \u201cWhat I want now is to be alone. Make sure nobody comes out to out to the ledge, all right?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He nodded and left me there to climb out the window beside my bed. The ledge here wasn\u2019t wide, and it was crumbling in several places, but I had built up this area myself so I trusted it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After a moment to settle my emotions, I climbed out and stared off in the direction of Drylliad. There, in a castle on the hill of that great city, the Gift Festival would be celebrated with much finer offerings than anything we might exchange here. It would be followed by a grand feast and celebrations extending late into the evening.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

On my first year away from home, I\u2019d passed by and seen a single homemade candle being lit from a familiar window inside the castle. My brother\u2019s room.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Every year since, I did the same. So I withdrew the candle from my pocket, set it on the ledge, and lit it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Because there was a fourth rule of the Gift Festival, an unspoken rule that was only honored by a very small number of people in all of Carthya.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Rule Four: The gift should represent love.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I sat on the ledge beside the candle and continued to look toward Drylliad, finally closing my eyes and hoping a candle there was being lit once again for me. Maybe by a family who wondered about me as much as I did them. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Maybe next year\u2026<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

SPOILER WARNING: YOU MUST HAVE READ THE FALSE PRINCE FIRSRT BEFORE READING THIS. This story takes place during Sage’s time at Mrs. Turbeldy’s Orphanage for Disadvantaged Boys. Happy Holidays, my friends. SAGE\u2019S GIFT Carthya\u2019s annual Gift Festival has three rules. First, the gift must be made by the giver. I tended to be generous with […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3911","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/jennielsen.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3911","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/jennielsen.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/jennielsen.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jennielsen.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jennielsen.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3911"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/jennielsen.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3911\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3914,"href":"https:\/\/jennielsen.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3911\/revisions\/3914"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/jennielsen.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3911"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jennielsen.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3911"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jennielsen.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3911"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}