BENEFICENCE is a supernatural legal drama rooted in lived experience—created for anyone who has ever been harmed not by violence, but by process.
This saga follows Emmet Sinclair, a devoted father navigating a system that presumes credibility before proof. When accusations become weapons and paperwork becomes power, Emmet is forced to confront a reality where truth moves slower than judgment.
As the legal system closes in, something ancient awakens.
Veritas—the embodiment of truth—emerges as a force that cannot be silenced, rewritten, or erased. Alongside Veritas stands the Arbiter, a primal werewolf presence that represents judgment, balance, and consequence when institutions fail to protect the innocent.
At the heart of the story is a child—caught between narratives, filings, and fear—whose safety becomes the line no power should cross.
Beneficence is not just fantasy.
It is a mirror.
BENEFICENCE is an up and coming book written by a friend of mine, you can follow the Kickstarter here (or in the link at the top). The first ten ("10") followers will receive a T-shirt with the cover art and their name imprinted on the shirt.
I would be incredibly grateful for anyone who spreads the word or interacts with the book, I know the author and it would mean a lot to him.
My love for you was the throbbing, welling warmth of tears. That is exactly how I imagined paradise: silence and tears, and the warm silk of your knees. This you could not comprehend.
Vladimir Nabokov (1899-1977), from “Beneficence”
in “Vladimir Nabokov. The Complete Short Stories”
Summary: Confused and disturbed by Heather’s presence, Cole seeks answers from Solas. (A short but sweet chapter! Excited to finally introduce Cole's POV! Thank you all for your patience in waiting for me to update.)
[AO3 Link]
Bright and blurry, a barrier Cole couldn’t break past. He could scarcely remember a time when he had not been able to reach a hurt he knew was there. Heather confused and unsettled him. It wasn’t right. She was not supposed to be there, not as she was anyway. Any attempts he made to hear her thoughts resulted in a shock of unpleasant emotions that were not even hers, magnified to a maddening degree, but being near her was less painful than not being near her. Like a moth toward a flickering flame, he was drawn. It could not be helped.
He didn’t really know why he sought her out in the library. He felt her feel Cullen’s hurt. Memories, muted and muddied, different from how Cole experienced them. Had it bothered Heather as it bothered him? Skin crawling, heart racing, running from long-dead demons that still refused to leave.
“Cole,” a calming voice rang out, resonating in two places, bringing Cole from his thoughts, “Why are you hiding?”
Strong. Sad.
“Solas,” Cole answered, shedding the shroud of the Fade behind which he hid, “I’m sorry. You don’t like it when I do that. I forgot.”
Solas smiled, still sad despite his attempts to push it down. “No need to apologize. It is simply unnecessary, not bothersome.” He did not look up from the parchment on which he was focused, charcoal dust dirty on his fingertips, drawing. Cole stepped forward, taking extra precaution to not move too fast. Solas didn’t mind, but others called him creepy —or at least thought it rather loudly—when he did things like that.
Hurried and messy lines seemed like nothing when focused upon singularly, yet pulling his vision back to examine the whole image allowed him to see her. The Inquisitor. Niamh. Solas cared for her, though he denied it even to himself. She challenged and changed things. Confusing, conflicting, she could not be real, but she was.
“She’s very beautiful,” Cole said softly bring his gaze up to look at Solas from under the brim of his hat. The thoughts were Solas’, not Cole’s, though he did think she was pretty with her shiny red hair and skin spotted from the sun. “But that’s not why you draw her.”
“Cole.” His tone shifted into a warning. It meant that he didn’t wish to talk about it, and that the subject should be dropped. Rhys’ voice did that, too, usually when Cole had done or was about to do something he didn’t like.
Solas reminded Cole of Rhys, calm and composed, kind. But, he was more serious and not nearly as warm or friendly, by choice not nature. It helped him remain distant, detached no matter how he longed to be less lonely. These people couldn’t understand him, he believed.
“I apologize,” Solas sighed after a few moments of silence, “It is… a sensitive subject, as I am certain you are aware. You would not have brought it up otherwise.”
Cole blinked and nodded.
“Anyway, is there something I can help with?” Solas sat down the parchment and dusted the charcoal from his hands. “You look troubled.”
“It’s,” Cole answered, halting, words swarming through his mind more quickly than he could catch them in his mouth, “Heather.”
Solas raised his eyebrows, intrigued by the mention of the unusual woman. She was fascinating to him, a puzzle, a challenge even. Still, something about her unnerved Solas as well, worry hidden behind his curiosity.
“Ah, yes!” He stood up and walked around to the front of his desk, and picked up a small journal bound in brown leather. Thumbing through the pages, he leaned back against the desk, nearly sitting on its edge. “I have been thinking about her as well, and I believe I know how she was transported here. Though, I cannot say why.”
Solas found the page for which he had been looking and pushed off from the desk. He paced around the room as he continued his explanation, excited to share a theory he had likely developed in the early hours of the morning when nobody else had risen. For someone who liked to dream as much as he did, Solas slept very little. It was difficult for him here. Helpless, hurting, his fault. Cole was glad he found ways to distract himself. The grief was more than anyone should have to carry.
“Reality is often believed to be objective fact, immutable in its definition, but that is only partially true. The physical world is merely an extension of the Fade, which is more,” he paused,searching for the appropriate word, “Malleable.”
“It wobbles,” Cole added, drawing a good natured chuckle from his somber friend.
“I suppose it does.” Solas nodded decidedly and closed the journal, returning it to its place on his desk. The smile faded from his face almost as quickly as it had appeared.
“It would be easier if it didn’t.” Cole sensed the conflicted questions stirring under the silence.
“It would,” Solas sighed, leaning back against the desk again, arms crossed over his chest. “Still, the nature of the Fade makes it entirely plausible for alternate versions of reality to exist. Different worlds shaped by varied outcomes at crucial points in history. The fact that we have not experienced Heather’s reality does not mean that it is any less real. For her to have arrived here would require nothing more than the touch of a spirit.”
Solas looked at Cole, searching his face for a reaction, one Cole did not have. The elf furrowed his brows and tapped a finger against his mouth in response.
“But you came to talk to me about Heather,” he said abruptly, realizing he had gone on a tangent, “Have you a read on her?”
“No.”
“Difficult thoughts? Overwhelming emotions? I presume she must be confused and-“
“I can’t hear her,” Cole interrupted urgently, the anxiety knotting in his stomach. A flood of his own thoughts rushed into his head, and he struggled to shape them into an explanation for Solas. “Her thoughts are blocked, behind a barrier, but she feels from others as I do. I can hear them through her, muffled and muted, like loud music playing in a different room.”
Solas stiffened as Cole spoke, his brows pressing together, confused and concerned. “She has no hurt then? Nothing you can help?”
“I… think she hurts, but it is hidden,” Cole explained, unable to meet the man’s intense gaze, “It… hurts me when I try to listen. The quiet is too loud.”
“Silence can be deafening when one is accustomed to noise,” Solas said softly, “But you said she feels others as you do?”
“Yes,” Cole nodded and began to pace, propelled by nervous energy, “At first it was just Commander Cullen. His pain is loud and easy to hear, harder to fix. Heather helped him, hands in cold water. She made him remember the now.”
“And you could feel Cullen’s pain through Heather?” Solas’ expression suggested that he knew more than he said aloud, “Fascinating.”
Solas stood and moved to stand directly in front of Cole, examining him carefully.
“May I?” He extended a hand, blue magic pulsating at his palm. Cole nodded his consent and Solas brought his hand to rest on Cole’s shoulder. The magic sparked, rippling across his skin, searching for something Cole could not name. It didn’t hurt, but it was unsettling.
Once the magic had worked through Cole, Solas removed his hand and inhaled sharply.
“It would appear my theory may have some merit after all,” he said, turning his eyes to meet Cole’s own, “Tell me Cole, what do you remember from the night before we found Heather in the snow?”
Cole searched his mind for memories of that night, a heaviness settling on his chest when he found the answer.
“Nothing,” he muttered, his voice no more than a whisper.
www.gofundme.com/corozal-Diabetic-Pilot-program giving thanks to donors L.Smith, C Keady, B Hunter, P Rosales, D Flowers, M Flowers, D Courteau, J Ryan, L Guay Thanks for the support I donation of $5 or $10 goes a long way calling on your support#thanksgiving #donate #donation #charity #charitygig #writeoff #hand #philanthropy #dole #contribution #oblation #fundraiser #fun #fund #offer #assistance #beneficence
In doing social research, the Belmont Report* identified core ethical principles to consider:
1. Respect for Person’s Autonomy
2. Justice
3. Beneficence/ Non-maleficence
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*https://www.hhs.gov/ohrp/regulations-and-policy/belmont-report
