I am doing a
little experiment. I am going to write a series of chapters in a fantasy
world of my creation and see if it goes anywhere. Since I have not
prewritten this story and have no outline, it will probably end up a convoluted
mess. I do not know how often I will be able to update this or if it will
ever finish. This is the link to CHAPTER 1. (I have also found that I have to go back and clean up
very broken sentences in previous chapters. This is why I need an editor.
I understand what I am writing, but I need to make sure other people do
too.)
Chapter 11: Grandfather
Apple found
Pasgard at his own table in the common area of the ships hold, with what appeared
to be 3 human sized troughs filled with heavy stew and half a pitcher of
sparkling juice.
"Master,"
said Apple. "How should I address
you?"
"Good
question," said Pasgard, taking a minute to roll his shoulders and
straighten his back. "When I took my
first apprentice I was still working as Caliphate, and was worried for rank and
title, I had they call me Master. My number
two did the same because of habit. Then
I became a Vizier so I used that for the next three, keep it simple. When I left being a Vizier they call me
Pasgard, like everyone else, but some just calling me Master anyway."
Pasgard
paused for a while and looked at no particular thing on the table.
"You might
be my last apprentice," said Pasgard.
"What did you call, Lord Malachite?"
"He
had me call him, Uncle," replied Apple, still unsure what to call the
wizard, and having a hard time following his broken speech, it seemed to be
getting worse since she had first heard him talk to Uncle Malachite.
"Hmm,"
hmm'd Pasgard. "Don't think I could
be 'Uncle' at my age. How about
grandfather?"
"I
would like that," said Apple.
"I am
glad," said Pasgard. "Now let
me start your first lesson."
Apple
beamed and took the seat opposite Pasgard as he gestured her to sit. He slid the food aside for a moment, a
reprieve not a pardon. And then in his
hand was a roll of paper. He splayed it
out across the table and pinned it down with little tacks that again appeared from
nowhere.
The paper
was a series of circles and connections with words written in the Caliphate
language. "Do not worry little one,
today will not require too much reading," his open hands then began to
wave in circle gestures over the paper and all of the circles began to turn
like gears in a clock.
"This
is what magic is," said Pasgard.
"Each circle is a part of the world, and each touches the next and
pushes it and feel's its own movement slowed by the push. This push can be followed back thru all of
time to the first mover, a being we call Primal, the light of creation that
shines into each of us. It is what
animates us, just as water causes a ship to float, the Primal light of creation
makes us all live. Do you
understand?"
"We
are light?" asked Apple, more just mesmerized by the turning of the
circles.
"Yes
and no," said Pasgard. "We are
the matter that the light animates, and we are the light which animates the
matter, and the light within us is the same as the light in all others, just as
the matter is all the same matter, only different because of how it is put together."
Apple
realized Pasgard no longer sounded like he had.
His words flowed like he had been a native speaker his whole life. "Grandfather, how..." How do you
ask without sounding rude? "Why do
you sound so differently?"
"Apple,"
said Pasgard. "We are speaking on a
deeper level, you will learn this soon.
It is the Primal language, it is closer to the Primal Light, and thus
understood more deeply than the languages of man. It is as if we are souls speaking to one
another. If you look closely at my lips,
you will see, they are saying something just a bit differently."
They were. His lips moved out of sync with the sounds he
spoke. "Uh," was all Apple
could say, it confused her deeply to notice the break between the speaker and
the spoken.
"Relax
little one," said Pasgard. "It
is just the fastest way to learn about this, and it will be how I teach you to
read. You will be able to read the light
below the words on a page, you will grasp a deeper meaning. I keep a little book filled with words I have
learned, trying to keep them and understand the finer glow of them and the
meanings of those who spoke them.
"On
the deepest levels, true understanding of the whole of creation is to be found,
and the ability to awaken briefly in others the ability to see the rich light
of creation."
"Like
the fish," said Apple. "Back
at the cafe you made everyone see their light."
"And
much more," Pasgard leaned back and began gesturing to the paper like
coaxing mist from a censer, and the words began to float from the page turning
in the air, glowing, and Apple could read some of them. "Give me time, and you will
understand."
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