[ In the end, she doesn't fight the nickname, though. It's cute, Sal's cute, and therefore forgiven. ]
You know, that's odd. Normally I feel like they're the first thing people know about me -- which means I'm actually relieved that I haven't blathered at you about them yet. I've been trying to get away from them.
So. A few hundred years ago, one of my ancestors published a book of hyper-specific prophecies. The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch. So far as I know, it's the only truly accurate book of prophecies in the world. It talked mostly about our family, and kept an eye out for us -- investment tips and advice and so on -- but it also talked about the oncoming apocalypse and how to avert it. That it was our job to avert it. So we considered ourselves professional descendants: spent our days and years and lifetimes trying to sort out what each prophecy meant, and what she wanted us to do.
The only thing it was really clear on was that I would be there, and I would be involved somehow. Either I'd succeed or I wouldn't. Either I'd figure out what I needed to do, or I'd die with the rest of the world at age twenty-two.
Long story short, we did succeed in saving the world, and that was the end of those particular prophecies. Until a second book showed up, and I set the damn thing on fire.
My point being. I really like autonomy. Choice. And I was tired of feeling like I didn't have a choice, that my road was all set out for me hundreds of years before I was even born.
So even if the circumstances were different, I think I do know what it's like to be trapped in a cage of responsibility. From the sounds of it, I wish you'd been able to set yours on fire sooner.
no subject
Princess[ In the end, she doesn't fight the nickname, though. It's cute, Sal's cute, and therefore forgiven. ]
You know, that's odd. Normally I feel like they're the first thing people know about me -- which means I'm actually relieved that I haven't blathered at you about them yet. I've been trying to get away from them.
So. A few hundred years ago, one of my ancestors published a book of hyper-specific prophecies. The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch. So far as I know, it's the only truly accurate book of prophecies in the world. It talked mostly about our family, and kept an eye out for us -- investment tips and advice and so on -- but it also talked about the oncoming apocalypse and how to avert it. That it was our job to avert it. So we considered ourselves professional descendants: spent our days and years and lifetimes trying to sort out what each prophecy meant, and what she wanted us to do.
The only thing it was really clear on was that I would be there, and I would be involved somehow. Either I'd succeed or I wouldn't. Either I'd figure out what I needed to do, or I'd die with the rest of the world at age twenty-two.
Long story short, we did succeed in saving the world, and that was the end of those particular prophecies. Until a second book showed up, and I set the damn thing on fire.
My point being. I really like autonomy. Choice. And I was tired of feeling like I didn't have a choice, that my road was all set out for me hundreds of years before I was even born.
So even if the circumstances were different, I think I do know what it's like to be trapped in a cage of responsibility. From the sounds of it, I wish you'd been able to set yours on fire sooner.