Video Meliora, proboque; Deteriora sequor

Fictional Tuesday

Nuala's heritage was clouded in the otherworldly. It was said she was descended from a race of kings in a far away village in a mountainous region off the rockey Lughaidian coast.

All of the villagers there, so the tale goes, had either blood the color of robin's eggs or blood black as coal. The peasants had black blood and the royals blue and so lineage would be easy to tell except they never bled, and to bleed themselves was a great taboo and so most lived in the unknowing.

Nuala knew her father had blue blood because it was said she'd required a transfusion at birth. The country doctor was no longer alive and the details were murky, which led one villager who wore his black blood on his sleeve to call the facts made up, something said only to reassure her, since she certainly didn't look like her father. She had to admit her nose was broad and flat while her father's long and sharp. His hair was gold and her's dark, like the peasant Milesians.

She thought it odd that when she was younger and looked even less like her father she assumed her blood blue, but now even though her nose had matured and looked a bit less flat this only seemed to remind her of how much she didn't look him. Would she trust only that which she could see, only her features? Or would she know her blood blue despite the accuser?
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And divine grace is the inestimable treasure through which vile creatures and servants like ourselves become dear friends of our Creator. -St. Alphonsus