Ok I think most know the drill but let's get the legal stuff out of the way first anyway: The author does not own the rights to the characters, symbols, or references contained herein, they are each property of their respective companies and associates. The author in no way claims said characters, symbols or references and is also in no way receiving any form of payment from the story herein.
(Sounds very official eh? In other words I don't claim anything so please don't sue me, the only thing I own is the story).
Only one other note- "Elizabeth" is a real character in the original book but is never named so I had to make my own.
He knew it would happen. The old reciever watched as the community awakened, crying out in fear and so many other things. The council was first and led all the citizens of the community flocking to the reciever's annex; such a thing had never happened before. Not even when the one who was named only once in all the years since her departure had passed into release. Then it had been during the day, then the old reciever had been summoned immedeatly.
Now, he was waiting outside and a thousand questions bombarded the old man like a fragment he remebered of war: machiene gun bullets. He tried to explain, but was soon drowned out by the cries of the community, among so many new emotions was one that surfaced in the turmoil: rage. The council immedeately called out for piolets who left immedeatly, before the reciever could stop them. The chief elder turned towards the crowd.
"JONAS...JONAS...JONAS..."
There was nothing the reciever could do as it was taken up by the others, softer, with less honour. "Jonas....Jonas...Jonas..."
The name rapidly went down to almost a whisper. Some did so violently, others did so more reluctatly. Still others, as in the case of Asher and Jonas' family did so painfully. Only the old reciever noticed that only one other remained silent.
Only Fiona refused to forget.
The name was gone. Dishonered. Forgotten. It would never be used again, either in the community or for a newchild. The reciever could not prevent it, but there was somthing he could do, somthing he had planned all along.
As the babel began again, he raised his hands. The strength in his voice revealed his true age, younger than he appeared to be. "ENOUGH!"
The crowd fell silent. Surely the reviever would tell them what to do, surely the old man's wisdom was enough. But it was not wisdom that he spoke next. "Elizabeth, come here."
It was not a command, but a gentle, urgent statement. A murmer set through the crowd as the pale eyes of the little six opened wide turning to the reciever then to her mother. Her mother's grip tightened on the hand she hand been holding then reluctantly let go. Softly she nudged her daughter towards the annex door.
Fearfully Elizabeth slowly walked, aware of the eyes of the entire crowd on her and the strange, wonderful, and terrifying things that were now in her mind. As she stepped up, the recever gave her a gentle, reassuring smile and knelt down, touching hers hands with his.
"Don't be afraid."
Fear and confusion in the pale eyes melted away, replaced by wonder and tearful joy.
"Do you hear it?"
She nodded vigorously until it seemed her head would fall off, "Oh yes, it's beautiful!"
The old man beamed. He would not allow her to become the assimulation of all the memories, but this was one gift he would gladly give. "Then share it."
She looked at him in confusion. He stumbled a little on the word but, like with love, the memory had not left him completely. "Sing."
She smiled and turned to the crowd, her voice like a bell ringing in the confusion and darkness.
"Amazing Grace how sweet the sound
that saved a wretch like me....
I once was lost but now am found,
was blind but now I see."
The old man's eyes cleared, and he remembered clearly again. His surpisingly strong baritone blended into a duet.
"T'was Grace that taught...
my heart to fear.
and grace, my fears relieved.
How percious did that Grace appear...
the hour I first believed."
More and more voices joined as the memory, the Giver's last and favorite spread. The wonder of music spread to the community banishing rage and hate.
"Through many dangers, toils and snares...
we have already come.
T'was Grace that brought us safe thus far...
and Grace will lead us home."
"The Lord has promised good to me...
His word my hope secures.
He will my sheild and portion be...
as long as life endures."
"When we've been here a thousand years...
bright shining as the sun.
We've no less days to sing God's praise...
then when we've first begun."
"Amazing Grace how sweet the sound
that saved a wretch like me....
I once was lost but now am found,
was blind but now I see."