No wonder she was saying such insulting things about me.“This way,” beckoned the acolyte. She moved into the temple. “Not until you tell me what...you mean, girl!” I hissed as the acolyte backed away, her bluish hands sliding through her reddish locks, trying to smooth them.“I'm Journeyman Carsina,” she said, throwing a look over her shoulder. “And I mean you're what is incorrectly known as an imbuer.”“Incorrectly?” I muttered. “I am an imbuer. A descendant of your God.”“That's what the tests. The very first one had been her mother.Angela was my sister’s youngest daughter. She was almost thirteen when I saw her after being away for a few years. It was at my coming home party at my parent’s house. I was then forty years old and the new plant manager of the local lumberyard where most of my family worked. All the education and hard work had finally paid off.Angela came running up to me, jumped into my arms, and wrapped herself around me. She was feather light, her small breasts were. More

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