| Present Day Caravan out of The Spires Although his entire body was rocking left and right with the constant hobbles the wagon moved through, the writer sat quietly in the back. In front of him, untouched by the rocking of the wagon or the breeze of the wind, a parchment floated in mid air. Right above it, a quill hovered in the air as well. As the wagon, one of so many, continued on its trek East, the writer touched the quill to the parchment. Without looking at the paper, thoughts were transmitted straight from his mind onto the paper. As he worked, he watched his two limp hands lying in his lap. |
| Fall, 59th, Year 465 Master Taren Alter's Lab, Sahova Sometimes, things happen so often that you get completely used to them. You know exactly what is going to happen when you do it, no matter how you do it. And most people learn to not do certain things because they end up in a certain, set, result. There are always exceptions to this case. The Undrykas was well aware of how his life was only lived because of a whim of the master. It would only take a minor mistake in malediction to get rid of him. And nobody would have missed him if he had gone, for whatever reason. But for now, it seemed like the Master found it more entertaining to keep him alive and in one piece than dead. But even that often stood at the edge of a decision. The Undrykas looked at the workbench in front of him. There was the faintest of smiles on his face, hidden behind the black veil that covered half of his face. A series of accidents over the past season, combined with a bad malediction item had turned most of his face into a mess. For some inexplicable reason, the Undrykas had started wearing the veil to cover his wounds and scars. The rest of the scars suffered were hidden underneath his clothes and thus didn't need any additional coverage. He was smiling because, in front of him on the desk, there was a box, unopened, marked with several Sahovan stamps and markings, labeling it as project material. Another project from the Master. Times hadn't been good for the Undrykas, but neither had they been good for anyone else in the lab. Two apprentices had actually died in the same malediction that had taken part of the Undrykas' face and three others had risen to wizard rank and had left the Master. Short on apprentices, the Master had come to rely more on the Undrykas, who was now his senior apprentice, although he would never admit to it. Carefully, the Undrykas opened the box on his workbench, with almost paternal care for it. He placed the lid of the box aside, carefully, like it was made of porcelain. One by one, he took out the jars from the box and placed them next to one another on his desk. Once the box was empty, which he thoroughly checked by removing all the straw from the box and after knocking on the sides and bottom to make sure nothing was hidden anywhere, he tossed it aside. The target of his care was not the box and, without the jars in it, the box was useless to him. It clattered to the ground, drawing attention from the other two apprentices at work, who gave him angry looks behind his back before getting back to work. Picking up each jar in turn, like they were part of a set and made out of precious stones, he looked at the contents. Three jars, one containing the tongue of something, the other two containing a spikey ear each. According to the label on each jar, the Undrykas was looking at the resources for his next malediction: A zith tongue and ears. Unlike his early maledictions from around the time he had just arrived in Sahova, the Undrykas had no need to hide it anymore. And so he had all the time in the world, within the deadline, of course, to read the files. He'd never had any files before. This was probably the second time in all his time in Sahova that he knew what materials he was working with. The paper given to him was, luckily, in common. As well as Nadar-Canoch. Holding the paper at arms length, the Undrykas quickly sifted through the information presented by it. A lot of form numbers and names, some Nuit names. Signatures left and right, stamps right and left. And then the good part. "Subject was a council member for his family. Well spoken for a Zith. Understood and could speak common as well as Zithanese. Often traded with outsiders." He read through the list of characteristics of the past owner of the three body parts. A zith who was probably dead now. And if not, it wasn't much of a loss to the Undrykas. The Zith came down to being a spokesperson for his family. Very eloquent for a Zith, not that that meant much. The Undrykas had all the information he needed. The requested item wasn't too difficult to create. He managed not to add 'for someone of my skill' to his own train of thought. Where had that come from. He was far from skilled enough to be able to say something like that. Pushing the thoughts out of his mind, the Undrykas grabbed the jar with the tongue and turned the lid, cracking the wax seal and forcing it open. He fished the tongue out, once belonging to a sharp and eloquent mind, now nothing more than a wrinkled and preserved tool for a young man's limits. Leaving the other two in their jars, he put them aside, along with all the carving tools that were on the desk. He would have to paint them, since the knife would only break the preserved items. The black paint and the thin, detail brushes were set at the top of the workbench. The tongue was lying in the middle. The Undrykas stood over it, one hand on each side as he leaned over it and looked at it, tried to see it finished. But nothing came to him. There was nothing. He knew alot about the previous owner of the tongue but he realized he knew nothing about the Zith. The requested effect required him to know more about the Zith first. Mentally cursing at himself for unsealing the tongue already, he picked it up from the table and put it back in the jar, closing it again. Leaving his workbench as it was, he walked out the lab and headed straight for the library. "Zith are... family... mhmm...mhmm slaves wealth... mhmm... hunters... Families... slavers... mhmm... Xy... mother teaches... family... 'Good Zith', sure... Xy and Din... Mhmm..." The Undrykas' finger moved over the lines as he read them, muttering certain aspects to himself. A pile of books stacked up in front of him provided him with scraps of information left and right but never an entire picture and never the bit of information that he needed. Having to translate from several different languages and only one book with a moderate amount of common in it, the Undrykas struggled through whatever information he could find, working his way slowly through it. He read on, skipping larger sections of texts and titles he had no use for, constantly looking for the right word or the right sentence. But so far, nothing much. "...their copulations are passionate and loving, though sometimes rather rough... Didn't know that. Didn't -want- to know that." With a dissatisfied grunt he tossed the book onto the ever increasing pile of useless ones. The information about the Zith was indeed interesting and quite extensive but it was not the information he needed, not the information required. With a sigh he leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose as he let his mind wander for a moment, relaxing it and letting it rest from the constant strain of translating or sifting through information. He sat like that for several minutes, his eyes closed, his legs stretched out under the table. Then, pulling himself out of his daydream, he sat up again and pulled yet another book in front of him. With a single glance he knew it wasn't the right one and pushed it to the side, exchanging it for another book. He read diagonally through it, reading only a set few words on every page as he worked through it. Nothing of interest caught his attention as he sifted to one book after another, slowly working through and diminishing the pile of information to his right. And then, at random, he found it. The passage he had been searching for in previous books but had never found. Eagerly and enthusiastic he started reading it to himself. "Zith language is a combination of subsonic and ultrasonic sounds which are near impossible to hear with normal ears. Dogs and cats are able to hear the sound, although have not the intelligence to understand what is being said. The Zith use these sounds to talk and to identify one another. Unlike Common, for example, the sound is used to identify another Zith. In Common we use a name to define a certain person, given to use by our parents or whoever brought us up. In Zithanese the sound that the Zith picks up defines someone and this particular way of sound is the Zith's -name-." There was the sliver he had been looking for. With the book tucked under his arm, the Undrykas had already crossed half the library before he realised that he couldn't take books from the library. With regret, he left the book where he had found it and walked towards the lab once more, armed with new knowledge. So Zith did not use words to speak but used sound that could only be heard by other Zith and certain animals. Only went to prove how much Zith were like animals and unlike humans. The Undrykas nodded at himself, approving his own statement as he walked into the lab once more. Armed with his latest tidbit of knowledge, the Undrykas set himself to work by sitting at his workbench and staring at the Zith tongue in the jar. Now he knew how they communicated. All he had to do was to find a way to draw that out of the tongue. But the problem was that until now any and all effects were solid, touchable things like strength or more power. But sonic sound. The Undrykas had no idea what it looked or sounded like so he didn't really have any clue where to start. As he stared at the tongue in the jar, he let his mind wander off, his head leaning on his hands. His little daydream didn't last very long as a punch to the back of his head knocked it into the desk below it. "Sleeping on the job? Pulsers. Useless." The Undrykas could feel the spit on his neck as the Master spoke the words from right behind him. How long he had been there the Undrykas didn't know, but he had decided that the young living man hadn't been active enough for however long and was in need of a good scolding. And a good scolding always involved beating and pain. The Undrykas rubbed over his nose and forehead as he kept his eyes on the Master's feet, not wanting to spark any reason for more beatings. The disgust in the Master's voice was obvious as he spoke again. "You better finish that today or the deadline will catch up. With you. I'll make sure it catches up with you." The Undrykas nodded and made an attempt to turn back to his workbench. The Master tried to hit him again but resulted in only backhanding the young man, which only stung his cheek a little. Outwardly subservient, the Undrykas bent over his work and picked th tongue out of the jar. Best not to anger the master any further. Over the seasons, the Undrykas had learned a few ways to protect himself from the Master, the most effective one involved holding important or difficult to replace materials or resources. The tongue felt dry and dusty in his fingers as he lifted it out of the jar. "So, Ser Zith Speaker. How do I draw you out?" He mumbled to himself as he absently lifted the thin brush up from the bench and unscrewed the black paint. He put the tongue down on the desk and held it softly, making sure not crack or damage it in any way. The brush tipped in the black paint and touched the skin of the tongue. The circle was quickly made, formed over almost an entire side of the tongue. It wasn't exactly round but was designed to create the most usable space for him to paint the effect in. It would have to be something related to speaking or to Zith or their language. The Undrykas simply let his imagination take over from that point. He had the keywords in his head and let his mind do the rest. The brush touched against the tongue as he started painting. First he had half circle, small, more like an arch, near the top of the malediction circle. From there he painted further down, creating, what looked like the very basic form of a human face, seen from the side. There was no detail, just a single line forming the edge of the face. The nose was barely visible on the face, but it didn't matter. What little painting skills he had would be enough for the image he had in mind. The face had its mouth open, as if it was screaming. Looking at the picture, the Undrykas turned his head left and right, trying to see it from different angles. Unsatisfied with the look of the face, it felt too human to the Undrykas, he tried to see it more Zith, although he had little to no personal experience with the creatures. From the books he had found, however, he had gathered a certain image of them, which he applied to the face on the tongue. The brush moved over the skin as he added stroke upon stroke to the image, slowly turning the empty face into that of, what the Undrykas imagined to be, a Zith. He leaned back from his work and let the brush fall on the desk as he stretched his fingers. With the first part finished, the Undrykas had to wait for a while, to let it all dry. While he waited, he plucked his notebook out of his outfit and started scribbling down all the thoughts and ideas together with all the information he had found out, leaving larger detailed sections out and just keeping a general image of the Zith in his notes. By the time he had finished with his notes, the paint had been satisfiedly dried. He picked the brush up and dipped it into the paint once more. From the face he started to draw out the sound. The face and open mouth were obviously a person making noise, possibly speaking. Now he needed sound. But how to draw sound? The Undrykas pondered on the problem once more. Like waves. Ocean water. From the mouth, slightly in front of it, leaving a slight space between the two, he dipped the brush against the skin and moved it away from the face, hovering it up and down, creating a small wave coming from the mouth. The brush moved back and a little up, restarting the process. He painted three small waves in total, each one a little above the next. Speech. Sound. The Undrykas looked at his little image and was quite impressed with himself. He put the brush down once more as he looked at the tongue. To be on the safe side, the picked the brush up again and quickly added four letter to the image, at the tip of the tongue. ZITH. Now he was satsified with the result. And with that, his biggest problems for this project had been wiped off the map. The Undrykas grinned to himself as he picked the tongue up and carefully put it aside. He would have to get some way of carrying it, probably a necklace. He'd find some leather string later and attach the tongue to it, along with the two ears. Hmm. The tongue in the middle sounded good, one ear on each side. He nodded to himself as he opened one of the jars with the ears in. Just as careful as before he placed it down, afraid it might crack or break or crumple to dust. He hoped none of those would happen. He stretched his fingers and cracked them before picking up the brush. An ear, maybe with a hand behind it, to hold it, like someone listening. And the waves going towards it. That would probably be the best way to proceed. He dipped the brush in the paint and placed it near the top of the back of the ear. From there he moved down along the side, creating once more the biggest useable space possible with his circle. The image looked well and the Undrykas was eager to continue as he refreshed the paint on the brush. He touched the skin once more and made an attempt to start painting. But as he did, the skin under the brush seemed to cave in, like it was falling apart on the inside. "No, no, no, no!..." The brush fell on the desk and bounced off the wood before clattering to the ground as he tried to stop the ear from collapsing further. But it was of no use. The ear turned to dust completely. He could feel the frustration building up. He felt like hitting something. Or someone. His fingers curled up into a fist as he tried to contain the desire to hit someone. With his fist shaking he smacked it onto the wooden table and immediately regretted doing it. Now he had a useless ear and a hurting hand. Now what would he do? A third of his assigned materials had just lost its use. It was useless now. He couldn't finish the project with only this. He wanted to throw something at something. So that it would hurt. He gripped his fist tighter as he held it in front of his face. It was shaking from the strength applied and hit the table again, this time in a more controlled manner. He grabbed onto the neatly organised tools on the table and threw them aside, the steel of the knives clattering on the stone floor of the lab. The empty jar touched the stone and shattered into a million pieces, scattering all over. The second jar, with the ear still in it, remained safely on the desk, as did the... |
| Present Day Caravan out of The Spires The writer stopped writing in the middle of his description. He didn't remember this. Of course he didn't, that was the reason for his writing this down, but the memory felt wrong as he remembered it, like it was out of place. It wasn't right. The Undrykas wasn't this... Where had this sudden burst of anger come from? His body was shaking and the parchment and quill clattered to the wooden floor of the wagon he was in. He had to shake off the confusion to focus on his spirit, pulling his hands back to him and laying them inside of his body. He focused as he slowly let his spirit pour back into his physical body. The familiar tingling started once more from the tips of his fingers. The tingling ended but the memory kept going, even without the quill and parchment in his hands the writer couldn't stop it. The thoughts and feelings flooded his mind, together with the events. |
| Fall, 59th, Year 465 Master Taren Alter's Lab, Sahova ...tongue. Both items were safe on the table. The Undrykas looked at them and sighed. Why the outburst? But it had happened and now it was over. The Undrykas felt genuinly surprised at that little fact. Suddenly feeling very tired, the Undrykas removed himself from the lab, slowly walking through the many corridors between the lab and his bed, all learned by heart and kept in his mind. The whole process of walking to his bed was automatically, as his mind wandered off to think about things that had happened or things he would like to see happen in the future. But those were limited, very limited. He shook his head before plopping down in his bed. Within minutes the Undrykas was fast asleep. Fall, 60th, Year 465 Master Taren Alter's Lab, Sahova The Undrykas was up early and already actively working on his project. The deadline didn't wait for nothing, not even self discovery. The broken tools and jar had been removed by some golem somewhere. The rest of the tools were on the table once more. The Undrykas was leaning over the remaining ear, using a needle to test the strength of the item. The skin had been pierced in four different locations, barely visible due to the dead nature of the ear. The ear didn't seem to collapse. Perhaps something had gone wrong with the embalming process or the storing process. Whatever the problem, it had happened with him. The failure was his. But it wasn't over yet. There was still time and one resource still remained. One could potentially be enough. He put the needle down, satisfied with the results. This ear would remain. With a sigh, the Undrykas screwed open the paint vial. He reached for his trusty brush and looked at the ear. He would go with the same design as he had planned before. The brush dipped into the black paint and touched upon the dead skin of the ear. With light strokes, linking them together one after the other, the Undrykas formed a circle on the back of the ear, envelloping most of the skin. As he envisioned a human ear, he started to add strokes to the empty contents of the circle. First a half circle at the top. Then from there an S-line down ending in a hook, or a half circle pointing upwards. From the hook a d-line upwards connected the four lines together again, creating some sort of a vaguely shaped ear. In an attempt to make it a little better, the Undrykas add a C-line inside of the ear. It looked terrible. For a painting of an ear it looked horrible. For malediction it was fine. It wasn't the image of something that drew the power out, according to the Undrykas, but the image in the mind as something was drawn. It was much better to look at it like that. It gave way to more possibilities when performing the art. The Undrykas looked at his little painted picture as he tried to see it as a proper ear. It wasn't. With the tip of his tongue sticking out from between his lips, the Undrykas added the three wavey lines, this coming from outside and going towards the inside, rather than the other way around he had drawn for the mouth. The mouth spoke the words, the ear heard them. The Undrykas gave a satisfied nod as he stepped back from his work. Just one last touch and the ear was finished as well. All that was left after that would be to test it... would be to find someone to test it for him. |
