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rainbowfic2021-10-27 07:27 pm
kay_brooke) wrote in rainbowfic2021-10-27 07:27 pm
Entry tags:
Arsenic #4, Grey #2
Name: kay_brooke
Story: The Myrrosta
Colors: Arsenic #4 (mercury), Grey #2 (greyscale)
Styles/Supplies: Graffiti (October Bingo square: trick)
Word Count: 976
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; no standard warnings apply.
Summary: Merrus tries to read a book.
Notes: Just a short snippet I wrote to work out some stuff about salkiys. Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM.
There was something familiar about the strange symbols, but Merrus couldn't focus on them long enough to figure out what. The writing squirmed around the page, clusters of swoops and sharp lines that Merrus knew must represent words and sentences but which slipped past his mind before he could make any sense of them. Yet he also knew the script itself wasn't moving. It was his eyes that didn't seem able to look directly at it, no matter how hard Merrus concentrated. It was a bit like trying to make out figures in a fog through a rain-spattered glass. Everything was fuzzy and indistinct, edges and boundaries nonexistent, what should have been familiar shapes distorted beyond comprehension.
It was giving him a headache.
Merrus slammed the book shut, shuddering slightly as he set it down on the table. The worn silver-limned symbol on the cover, the only thing in the book he could understand, flashed as it caught a ray cast through the window from the setting sun.
"Ah," said Darmon, as if everything had gone as expected. "So you cannot read."
"I can read!" protested Merrus, flicking his fingers in irritation. He bit back something that would have been highly insulting, and instead said, "I learned the thirty-seven symbols of the Goddess, same as every child." He indicated the design on the cover of the book. "That is the sign for the ethestras. My mother is a trader. I can read Okkandian, Ceenta Voweiian, and Kandelian. I even know some of the Arkijti script."
Darmon made a dismissive gesture. "Children's memory games and human scratch marks. That is not what I meant." He nodded toward the book. "That is in our language. You can't read our own language. It's shameful, how poorly educated you southern salkiys are."
Merrus eyed the book dubiously. Salkiys had a written language of sorts, each of the thirty-seven symbols of the Goddess representing a concept that, when used in various combinations, could be used to communicate a specific idea. Books had never been a foreign concept to him; his mother owned several, traded or bought from human merchants. She had taught him how to read Okkandian, the language all her books were written in. He had taught himself the others during his time in Jaharta. But he had never seen a salkiy book. He had thought none existed, the Goddess's symbols too limited and fixed in meaning to be used to construct a treatise or a narrative the way the humans did. Despite the familiar symbol on the cover, he couldn't quite believe Darmon was telling the truth. "If it is in our language, why can't I read it? Why can't I even see it properly?" There was ethestras soaked into the book, that Merrus could tell. Was that what made the words slither from his mind barely before he could see what they looked like? It didn't seem possible. Attaching an ongoing thesh form to an object was a difficult but doable thing; attaching one to a language was pure fancy.
Darmon narrowed his eyes at him. "Since you are so proud of knowing the thirty-seven symbols, tell me about this one." He produced a small knife from the folds of his robe and scratched three quick lines into the wood of the table's surface.
Merrus furrowed his brow, looking between Darmon and the symbol. "You just scratched up your table."
Darmon sighed in exasperation. "Do you know the symbol?"
"Yes!" snapped Merrus. "Clarity of thought."
"How is it applied in lessons? Assuming you remember any of your lessons."
He was impossible. Struggling to keep hold of his temper, Merrus ground out, "It is used to help a young salkiy keep their thoughts focused and controlled while working with the ethestras." Not that it had ever much helped him, but he would never admit that to Darmon.
"I am going to guess that you got little use out of it."
Now it was Merrus's turn to narrow his eyes. Was Darmon inside his thoughts? He couldn't sense any ethestras being worked, but the thesh form on the book was strong enough it might be concealing it. Some salkiys had a high enough level of control that they could keep their manipulations subtle and easily missed unless one was truly paying attention. Merrus had no doubt Darmon was one of these.
But the other salkiy only gave a slight smile. "It is not meant as an insult. I doubt even your village arai would be able to make much sense of this book. Your poor education is not your fault."
"Yes, us southern salkiys," Merrus spat.
"I only speak the truth," said Darmon, shrugging. "You know this symbol I carved, and you know what you were taught it means. The problem is that you were never truly taught it. Clarity of mind is needed in all the salkiy arts, not just to work the ethestras. Reading and writing, for example. If you had truly mastered this symbol and its meaning, you would be able to manipulate the ethestras with ease. You would be able to read this book."
Merrus turned away from Darmon, uncertain how to argue with such lunacy. It wasn't possible. Attaching an ongoing thesh form to an object was a difficult but doable thing; attaching one to a language was pure fancy. "It's the book," he finally said. "You've set a thesh form on the book to warp the words and make them impossible to read. Give me a book that you haven't manipulated, and see how well I read it."
Darmon just looked at him sadly. "You know so little. How has so much of ourselves been lost?"
Merrus shook his head and left the room, his thoughts turning toward where Atro and Elligia had gotten to. He had no patience for an old man's rambling.
kay_brookeStory: The Myrrosta
Colors: Arsenic #4 (mercury), Grey #2 (greyscale)
Styles/Supplies: Graffiti (October Bingo square: trick)
Word Count: 976
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; no standard warnings apply.
Summary: Merrus tries to read a book.
Notes: Just a short snippet I wrote to work out some stuff about salkiys. Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM.
There was something familiar about the strange symbols, but Merrus couldn't focus on them long enough to figure out what. The writing squirmed around the page, clusters of swoops and sharp lines that Merrus knew must represent words and sentences but which slipped past his mind before he could make any sense of them. Yet he also knew the script itself wasn't moving. It was his eyes that didn't seem able to look directly at it, no matter how hard Merrus concentrated. It was a bit like trying to make out figures in a fog through a rain-spattered glass. Everything was fuzzy and indistinct, edges and boundaries nonexistent, what should have been familiar shapes distorted beyond comprehension.
It was giving him a headache.
Merrus slammed the book shut, shuddering slightly as he set it down on the table. The worn silver-limned symbol on the cover, the only thing in the book he could understand, flashed as it caught a ray cast through the window from the setting sun.
"Ah," said Darmon, as if everything had gone as expected. "So you cannot read."
"I can read!" protested Merrus, flicking his fingers in irritation. He bit back something that would have been highly insulting, and instead said, "I learned the thirty-seven symbols of the Goddess, same as every child." He indicated the design on the cover of the book. "That is the sign for the ethestras. My mother is a trader. I can read Okkandian, Ceenta Voweiian, and Kandelian. I even know some of the Arkijti script."
Darmon made a dismissive gesture. "Children's memory games and human scratch marks. That is not what I meant." He nodded toward the book. "That is in our language. You can't read our own language. It's shameful, how poorly educated you southern salkiys are."
Merrus eyed the book dubiously. Salkiys had a written language of sorts, each of the thirty-seven symbols of the Goddess representing a concept that, when used in various combinations, could be used to communicate a specific idea. Books had never been a foreign concept to him; his mother owned several, traded or bought from human merchants. She had taught him how to read Okkandian, the language all her books were written in. He had taught himself the others during his time in Jaharta. But he had never seen a salkiy book. He had thought none existed, the Goddess's symbols too limited and fixed in meaning to be used to construct a treatise or a narrative the way the humans did. Despite the familiar symbol on the cover, he couldn't quite believe Darmon was telling the truth. "If it is in our language, why can't I read it? Why can't I even see it properly?" There was ethestras soaked into the book, that Merrus could tell. Was that what made the words slither from his mind barely before he could see what they looked like? It didn't seem possible. Attaching an ongoing thesh form to an object was a difficult but doable thing; attaching one to a language was pure fancy.
Darmon narrowed his eyes at him. "Since you are so proud of knowing the thirty-seven symbols, tell me about this one." He produced a small knife from the folds of his robe and scratched three quick lines into the wood of the table's surface.
Merrus furrowed his brow, looking between Darmon and the symbol. "You just scratched up your table."
Darmon sighed in exasperation. "Do you know the symbol?"
"Yes!" snapped Merrus. "Clarity of thought."
"How is it applied in lessons? Assuming you remember any of your lessons."
He was impossible. Struggling to keep hold of his temper, Merrus ground out, "It is used to help a young salkiy keep their thoughts focused and controlled while working with the ethestras." Not that it had ever much helped him, but he would never admit that to Darmon.
"I am going to guess that you got little use out of it."
Now it was Merrus's turn to narrow his eyes. Was Darmon inside his thoughts? He couldn't sense any ethestras being worked, but the thesh form on the book was strong enough it might be concealing it. Some salkiys had a high enough level of control that they could keep their manipulations subtle and easily missed unless one was truly paying attention. Merrus had no doubt Darmon was one of these.
But the other salkiy only gave a slight smile. "It is not meant as an insult. I doubt even your village arai would be able to make much sense of this book. Your poor education is not your fault."
"Yes, us southern salkiys," Merrus spat.
"I only speak the truth," said Darmon, shrugging. "You know this symbol I carved, and you know what you were taught it means. The problem is that you were never truly taught it. Clarity of mind is needed in all the salkiy arts, not just to work the ethestras. Reading and writing, for example. If you had truly mastered this symbol and its meaning, you would be able to manipulate the ethestras with ease. You would be able to read this book."
Merrus turned away from Darmon, uncertain how to argue with such lunacy. It wasn't possible. Attaching an ongoing thesh form to an object was a difficult but doable thing; attaching one to a language was pure fancy. "It's the book," he finally said. "You've set a thesh form on the book to warp the words and make them impossible to read. Give me a book that you haven't manipulated, and see how well I read it."
Darmon just looked at him sadly. "You know so little. How has so much of ourselves been lost?"
Merrus shook his head and left the room, his thoughts turning toward where Atro and Elligia had gotten to. He had no patience for an old man's rambling.
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