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edenfalling---------------------------------------------
Ashes, part 7
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[A ragged chorus of clapping echoed her, followed by a brief moment of silence before people began reaching for the dishes in the centers of the long tables and serving themselves a belated meal.]
Purrar's meals tended toward the simple and filling, which was only sensible when she had so many mouths to feed and so much of her help consisted of whichever indifferently talented people she could conscript on any given day. This night she'd gone for vegetable pies flavored with chicken and anise; potato dumplings filled with carrots, peas, and scraps of beef; a thick, spicy potato and onion stew that did a very good job disguising how tough its occasional grace notes of goat meat were; and a mix of fried acacia and sunflower seeds on plantain and dandelion leaves. Baskets of plain brown bread were scattered across the tables between the other dishes.
There would be few leftovers; Purrar was very good at gauging how much to cook. What scraps did get carried out would either be mixed into the jumble stew that appeared every few days, or fed as slop to the dogs in the morning. In the meantime, though, conversation was scattered and muted as people ate.
Riam glanced sideways at Morgalen several times, wondering if she might comment on the blessing or the food, but she devoted all her attention to her high-rimmed plate, eating with a will. Riam supposed she'd learned that on her way south. If you didn't eat what was provided, Zalir was fond of saying, there was no telling when you'd next eat at all, and what was true for patrols was most likely even more true for a journey from one end of the earth to the other.
After several minutes, Sular set down her knife and spoon and twisted in her chair to face Morgalen. "I'm sure Riam or Tir already said this, but welcome to Zerlon," she said. "I'm Sular Owelu, and I can help show you around tomorrow if you'd like."
Morgalen looked at Sular, then turned to look at Riam with one raised eyebrow.
"Sular is my apprentice," Riam said. "Sular, this is Morgalen..." He trailed off, having forgotten the rest of her name in the long string of lineage and territory she'd recited.
That lightning spark of humor flashed and hid in Morgalen's eye, mocking him. "Morgalen ha le Shani," she said, "which means, roughly translated, that I am a member of the ruling house of Shani, and Shani is the central land among my father's possessions. If you want a lineage-based surname, that would be 'kal-Kanrin siryu-Teltin,' meaning that I am of the line of Kanrin Sher by way of Teltin Shera. That means nothing to you, does it?"
Riam shook his head. "I've forgotten most of the history I read as a boy."
"I don't know any Teltin," Sular said, "but Kanrin Sher ruled a good portion of the far north a bit over a thousand years ago. I think he was the first person whose empire reached from the Western to the Eastern Ocean. And there was something about archers." She smiled apologetically as Morgalen's attention swept back to her. "That's all I remember," she added. "Am I very wrong?"
Morgalen was silent for a long moment. Then she set down her knife and tipped her left hand up, fingers splayed wide -- clearly a meaningful gesture, even if Riam had no context for it. "You have only the broken shards of his life, but those shards are true," Morgalen said. "I will tell you the shards I have of your land, and you can tell me if my scraps are also true."
"Of course," Sular said encouragingly.
"Before the miasma, Zerlon was a place of learning for the acolytes of the World-Mind," Morgalen said. "There was a famous library, and also a temple sometimes thought to be one of the eight wonders of the south."
"You're sitting in its bones," Riam said as Morgalen paused to draw a breath. "The contemplatives and the refugees dismantled the temple to build the holder's compound. Some of the carvings are in our walls, but most of them are underground, waiting."
Morgalen eyed Riam sidelong. "I was not finished."
"Sorry," he said. "But that shard is true."
"It would still have been true had you let me continue," Morgalen pointed out. "In any case, when the shadow-choked fools opened the Gate at the far end of the earth, and the miasma poured into our world, the wise men and women in Zerlon were the first to learn the trick of binding, and to realize that they could protect pieces of the earth from being poisoned and smothered. They passed word north as best as they could, and so we honor Zerlon for holding back the death of the world."
She smiled. "Of course, we in the Clan of the Hawk have built on what the acolytes of the World-Mind discovered. Gydra's people have also learned. I am curious to know what you in Zerlon have done with your ancestors' legacy."
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1) Oh, the hell with it; I don't feel like writing today. I am going to go drink a glass of hard cider, read Nalini Singh's latest Psy-Changeling paranormal romance novel, and cheerfully turn my brain off for an hour or so until I go to bed.
2) Morgalen's story about Zerlon and the discovery of binding is more or less true, allowing for the omission of quite a lot of details.
3) 800 words today, 9,325 total.
Ashes, part 7
---------------------------------------------
[A ragged chorus of clapping echoed her, followed by a brief moment of silence before people began reaching for the dishes in the centers of the long tables and serving themselves a belated meal.]
Purrar's meals tended toward the simple and filling, which was only sensible when she had so many mouths to feed and so much of her help consisted of whichever indifferently talented people she could conscript on any given day. This night she'd gone for vegetable pies flavored with chicken and anise; potato dumplings filled with carrots, peas, and scraps of beef; a thick, spicy potato and onion stew that did a very good job disguising how tough its occasional grace notes of goat meat were; and a mix of fried acacia and sunflower seeds on plantain and dandelion leaves. Baskets of plain brown bread were scattered across the tables between the other dishes.
There would be few leftovers; Purrar was very good at gauging how much to cook. What scraps did get carried out would either be mixed into the jumble stew that appeared every few days, or fed as slop to the dogs in the morning. In the meantime, though, conversation was scattered and muted as people ate.
Riam glanced sideways at Morgalen several times, wondering if she might comment on the blessing or the food, but she devoted all her attention to her high-rimmed plate, eating with a will. Riam supposed she'd learned that on her way south. If you didn't eat what was provided, Zalir was fond of saying, there was no telling when you'd next eat at all, and what was true for patrols was most likely even more true for a journey from one end of the earth to the other.
After several minutes, Sular set down her knife and spoon and twisted in her chair to face Morgalen. "I'm sure Riam or Tir already said this, but welcome to Zerlon," she said. "I'm Sular Owelu, and I can help show you around tomorrow if you'd like."
Morgalen looked at Sular, then turned to look at Riam with one raised eyebrow.
"Sular is my apprentice," Riam said. "Sular, this is Morgalen..." He trailed off, having forgotten the rest of her name in the long string of lineage and territory she'd recited.
That lightning spark of humor flashed and hid in Morgalen's eye, mocking him. "Morgalen ha le Shani," she said, "which means, roughly translated, that I am a member of the ruling house of Shani, and Shani is the central land among my father's possessions. If you want a lineage-based surname, that would be 'kal-Kanrin siryu-Teltin,' meaning that I am of the line of Kanrin Sher by way of Teltin Shera. That means nothing to you, does it?"
Riam shook his head. "I've forgotten most of the history I read as a boy."
"I don't know any Teltin," Sular said, "but Kanrin Sher ruled a good portion of the far north a bit over a thousand years ago. I think he was the first person whose empire reached from the Western to the Eastern Ocean. And there was something about archers." She smiled apologetically as Morgalen's attention swept back to her. "That's all I remember," she added. "Am I very wrong?"
Morgalen was silent for a long moment. Then she set down her knife and tipped her left hand up, fingers splayed wide -- clearly a meaningful gesture, even if Riam had no context for it. "You have only the broken shards of his life, but those shards are true," Morgalen said. "I will tell you the shards I have of your land, and you can tell me if my scraps are also true."
"Of course," Sular said encouragingly.
"Before the miasma, Zerlon was a place of learning for the acolytes of the World-Mind," Morgalen said. "There was a famous library, and also a temple sometimes thought to be one of the eight wonders of the south."
"You're sitting in its bones," Riam said as Morgalen paused to draw a breath. "The contemplatives and the refugees dismantled the temple to build the holder's compound. Some of the carvings are in our walls, but most of them are underground, waiting."
Morgalen eyed Riam sidelong. "I was not finished."
"Sorry," he said. "But that shard is true."
"It would still have been true had you let me continue," Morgalen pointed out. "In any case, when the shadow-choked fools opened the Gate at the far end of the earth, and the miasma poured into our world, the wise men and women in Zerlon were the first to learn the trick of binding, and to realize that they could protect pieces of the earth from being poisoned and smothered. They passed word north as best as they could, and so we honor Zerlon for holding back the death of the world."
She smiled. "Of course, we in the Clan of the Hawk have built on what the acolytes of the World-Mind discovered. Gydra's people have also learned. I am curious to know what you in Zerlon have done with your ancestors' legacy."
---------------
---------------
---------------
1) Oh, the hell with it; I don't feel like writing today. I am going to go drink a glass of hard cider, read Nalini Singh's latest Psy-Changeling paranormal romance novel, and cheerfully turn my brain off for an hour or so until I go to bed.
2) Morgalen's story about Zerlon and the discovery of binding is more or less true, allowing for the omission of quite a lot of details.
3) 800 words today, 9,325 total.
