Chapter 10 - Part VIII

No more words were exchanged as the three ascended the obsidian stairs.  Above them, on the overhang before the door hung a dark oak board with blackened letters of flowing script burned ages ago into the tight grains.  Tuk rden jor tuK phet. "Heaven Cannot Birth Civilization Alone".  Simple enough for Onion to understand their meaning, and accordingly, she understood what building she was entering.

Heaven, it was said, is the mother of knowledge.  Heaven, it was said, is the midwife to society.  And heaven is guarded by the those who guide the the Yibouhese.  But while the Nativity Palace, home to her Wisdom, was forbidden to all save her family, staff and closest advisers, heaven needed a way to walk in the world.

The Rok House, so named for the Emperor who built it, was unique to the university, as the place where the Empress and the universe could meet.  It was where she could receive visitors, foreign dignitaries and emissaries.  Yet for all of its worldly aspirations, the house had little more than a cozy simplistic beauty to its exterior.

The floor was comprised of long planks of a reddish dark wood perfectly laid and gorgeously polished, although it was clear that it had not been replaced in centuries, perhaps even longer.  The mountain madrone, a timber Onion had not ever seen before, also framed each of the three open doorways of the tiny building.  The hall was spartan, with not a painting nor lantern hanging from the walls.  Instead, natural light flooded in from the large double paned window at the end of the hall.

"To your left." Cedric muttered and the three of them filed into a small but comfortable looking room of a beige-brown plaster and smooth brick flooring.

"Sit." commanded the thick muscled man sitting relaxed upon a plush, double seated chair of velvet and wood, and Onion and her two companions complied readily.  She found herself sandwiched between Cedric and the Silent Scholar on the firm, backless red couch sitting against the wall.  Being so close to the voiceless being made Onion's skin crawl and she violently suppressed a desire to recoil from the physical touch of its silk robes brushing her bare arms.  In the corner a small fireplace beamed with a calming glow of coals and flame.

The man was clearly Yibouhese, with closely cropped jet-black hair and a full mustache and beard that was peppered with white and grey hairs.  His eyes were dark and intense, owing to his dark lashes and equality dark circles under his eyes.  He was starting to show the signs of advanced age with spiderweb wrinkles drawn from the corner of his eyes, but his body suggested a robust stature of a man not at all ready to give into the crumbling force of time.

"Who is this?" said the man in a deep, rich but throaty voice.  He spoke in full breaths, each word beginning strong and ending before his voice had a chance to wane with glottal punctuation. 

Onion bowed her head as she had seen the Silent Scholar do for the Empress.  "Prince Roh'ath, I am Onion of Deezhul..."

Roh'ath gave a loud, guffaw to his young guest before scratching his beard and collecting his drink from the small table at the side of his chair.  The ceramic cup held what appeared to be a dark amber liquid, which he eagerly took a swig of, then set it down and stood up to add a log to the fire.  Without making eye contact he spoke,

"Keil'Lah wo nya! 
Kal'Lah wo nya! 
Teph Boh sil waH he,
Bhu jor Teph wo! 

Linguistic Notes: Yibouhese is a tonal language.  First capital letter on a word signifies a down tone while a lower case letter signifies a straight tone.  Last capital letter signifies an up tone.

[Lit: Sun glorious above, oh!] (Oh, I see the awesome sun above me!)
[Lit: Stars glorious above, oh!] (Oh, I see the brilliant stars above me!)
[Lit: Great show itself to me although,]  (Though greatness be in my view,) 
[Lit: Reach not great above!] (Never will I touch it!) 

I am no prince.  And I am not likely to ever become one.  An Emperor has not come from the soft arts for a millennia, and then, only by a Learned of Theology.  You may refer to me as merely as Roh'ath Rduap, Learned of the Classics."

Onion paused a second before she spoke, "Then if you are not prince, why do we meet in the Rok House?"

His sharp eyes narrows.  Impudent.  "I am here for my mother, Empress Coth Di, who has limited time and limited breath for backwater natives.  My words are hers made law."

"From Tales of Kebh." Cedric spoke up, referring to the quote the Empress's son had uttered moments before, trying to return the conversation to something more civil. "And he did forever swear off the vestiges of power to become a hermit and an ascetic."

"And more was the pity for the Kingdom of Wan." Roh'ath quickly chimed back, enthusiastic for his art and its intricacies.  "His advice was was rejected, of course, and it fell; a victim of its own success in an era that tolerated neither pride nor hubris.  But you didn't come to discuss Marble Age literature with me.  This is the Nü you mentioned before?"  His large invading eyes, elegantly angled and darkly framed, scanned over Vren with appraisal.

Cedric turned to Onion and "Roh'ath Rduap is more than merely family to the Nativity Palace, he is bei'thal.  And even more, one of the very few bei'thal not a student of alchemy.  As one of the best controllers of bei, he oversees the final examinations on candidates and as one of the longest serving bei'thal, his is the first advice sought on a student's quality upon entering the program."

That was not necessary Cedric'opb.  Words are not worth spent on aimless flattery.  Certainly they are not needed for this one.  Cedric felt the Empress's son touch is mind in reproach.  Still, it was not the criticism of a superior, but the admonishment of a colleague and a friend, and Cedric took no offense.  Roh'ath turned to the Silent Scholar, face contorted between respect and annoyance, his thoughts unable to be concealed from the pnum'bei'thal.  The inanity of the thoughts of the Silent Scholar were a headache he did not rejoice in being exposed to.

I submit this one to your review then, Roh'ath.  The Silent Scholar took a pause from pondering the shelf life of a drowned god when worn as a theatrical mask and held off mental explorations into the philosophical underpinnings of the flow of a river.  Shall she take up the leash?  Shall she bring the dogs to our enemies and set them loose?  Or shall I make her the dog?  So many possibilities either way, but I am so interested in hearing your words.

Chapter 10 - Part VII

The three of them followed cobblestone paths that snaked in between perfectly angular buildings of stone and mortar.  While Cedric and the Silent Scholar clacked along the red splotched grey stone, Onion tiptoed on her soft slippered feet, observing her surroundings.  Cedric and the Silent Scholar mentally discussed the finer details of campus upgrades ahead of her while Onion trailed the two by a few paces.  To any passersby, however, the three of them traveled in an eerie silence. 

Even though she had arrived to the University on High over two tides ago, Onion still didn't know where she was going half of the time.  Novice students had few trips to make, save between the first 3 study halls, a mess hall and the lower dormitory block, but that was one mere petal on the rose that was the University.

Eighteen study halls, a training ground, three mess halls, two amphitheaters, one for public performances, one for her wisdom only, and 22 residences lay behind the neat, smooth cobble stone paths.  Each building stood as a solid, strong sentinels in a confusing maze of pathways that Onion was sure was placed there to test the persistence and courage of any new student.


Their destination was a small house that spent its nights lonely and vacant, though loving attention had been paid to every detail in its construction; from the tepid red stain of the alabaster to the intricate wood work of mountain cherry that reached from over the multi-tiered roof to explode into the carved patterns of vine and flowers on each corner of the edifice.  It was secluded, ignored by the rest of the enormous campus with a grove of chestnut and sycamore trees that offered shade against the strong Yibouhese sun.

A small mahogany wood walkway meandered through the grove and approached the structure from the side.  Before the main door, however, three perfectly rectangle obsidian steps descended from the house and lay before a wide cobblestone path that led directly to the inner sanctum of the Nativity Palace.

"Get down!" Cedric commanded forcefully as he prodded Onion onto her hands and knees and did the same himself.  "Respect.  Her Wisdom is just leaving." He reached a hand out to cover Vren's, lest she think about getting up before propriety dictated she could.

As soon as her knees touched the wooden walkway they stood upon, six men and two women, all shirtless and clad in breezy knee-high kilts of saffron colored silk assumed their place around a large polished mahogany litter.  Ornate carvings of lily flowers gilded in gold adorned each wall of the litter while a solid gold roof tiered out in shingled leaves.  The 8 bearers waited patiently as their frail charge was walked out to the litter.

Vren lifted her head slightly, curiosity winning out over formality and saw the most powerful person on the continent, if not the world.  The geriatric woman was held up by two strong men on each side of her and Onion was not convinced that she held even a single stone of her own body weight up.  Empress Coth Di's skin was light, but not like that of a Lithenese.  Hers was the paleness of weather and weary and her eyes were milky and grey.  Her grey hair, likely once jet black, as most Yibouhese, was tied up tightly in several buns that spanned from ear to ear along the top of her cranium.

She also noticed that the Silent Scholar did not bend a knee, and simply bowed its head deeply at her Wisdom.

Once the empress, with her layers of flowing robes and high ket shoes had been safely loaded into the litter, the 8 bearers headed straight for the only entrance to the Nativity Palace.  Onion ventured up and stood when she saw Cedric nod gently to her.

"That is Empress Coth Di?" she asked, already knowing the answer, but not quite able to rectify the image of the woman who has just been before her, with the imposing image of the woman she had created in her mind.

"Yes." Cedric responded, "Highest Scholar in the Land, Learned of Alchemy, Guide of Civilization.  You have her to thank for your liberation from the Archne Estate; it is her foresight that directs the Silent Scholar, and all of the Learned."

"It doesn't look like she has the capacity to open a scroll, much less study and direct matters of state." Onion blanched.

Cedric could not help but smile, though he tried to remain stern, "Yes, but don't ever say that again."