Inspiration Friday – Daring to enjoy, daring to suffer

Even though it is Spring (on this side of the world, anyway), this time of year is – for me – a time of sadness. Although the renewed life that can be seen in every garden and along the sidewalks does give some kind of solace and as well as the need to start anew, it is time when I find it more difficult to find inspiration and motivation. When despair is not an option, the silver lining must be sought, the old coat thrown off, the cobwebs dusted and some kind of happiness found. Even if it is just the promise held in the scent of a blooming Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow.  

So, in order to keep the spirits up, I propose three steps.

 1. Remember to give it some soul

Elke artikel wat sy maak is ‘n nuwe skoonheid waarvan sy die skepper is: dis hare en ‘n ander kon dit nie so gemaak het nie, want sy het haar siel daarin gegiet.

– C.J. Langenhoven

Every article she makes is a new beauty of which she is the creator: it is her own and no one else could have made the like because she poured her soul into it.

– C.J. Langenhoven

2. Do not dwell in a grey twilight

Far better is it to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure... than to rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy much nor suffer much, because they live in a gray twilight that knows not victory nor defeat.
       - Theodore Roosevelt

3. Go to the source

Before the throne

In my room I will bow before the throne

And be still and search for words

In the tongues I know

To exalt and praise and plead.

I will go into my room to be alone,

I will be still and think only of this

And realise that there is an ear that will hear my words

On the throne that none can see.

I will think of ancient stone and desert lands harsh to withstand

And buildings great and grand.

But not there, not there will I go, not where all can see

A lone person praying. A broken person pleading.

I will be still and know that here my words are like

A song of praise that I can but imagine and not sing,

That stuttering words will become sweet music,

That simple words will be given flight,

That all asked from the Prince will be answered,

That the Spirit will fill the simple room where I am,

That the King will place his hand on my shoulder,

That I will go from this room with new life.

Tears will be dried,

New life will enter me.

New love will enter me.

New peace will enter me.

I will be unbound and look at the world anew.

I will go into my room to be alone,

To plead, to praise, to humbly ask for new life.

Worldbuilding Wednesday: A Multilingual Dictionary of Nerdy-goodness

What do you get when you leave a worldbuilder alone with a stash of card making and crafting goodies? Or, more precisely, what do you get when said worldbuilder starts putting together a dictionary of languages spoken in a built world and then gets left alone with a stash of card making goodies?

I give you the one of a kind, handwritten and multilingual[1] Airthai dictionary – with a suitably aged look, of course.

The Priceless Artefact

Will this priceless artefact have a digital version available for all to peruse at leisure in the future? Why yes, this newfangled digital edition will be made available – if all goes well – in time for next week’s Worldbuilding Wednesday. I’ll then command the blog elves to update said dictionary when needed, just in case I forget to do it myself!

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[1] Having entries in the various Airthai languages as well as translations into Afrikaans and English. Because I can. :)

Inspiration Friday – The making of myths for other Lovers of Myths

The poem Mythopoeia by JRRTolkien, can be found in the new edition of Treeand Leaf. The following passage of the poem can also be found in Tolkien’s famous essay “On Fairy-Stories”. 

The heart of man is not compound of lies,

but draws some wisdom from the only Wise,

and still recalls him. Though now long estranged,

man is not wholly lost nor wholly changed.

Dis-graced he may be, yet is not dethroned,

and keeps the rags of lordship once he owned,

his world-dominion by creative act:

not his to worship the great Artefact,

man, sub-creator, the refracted light

through whom is splintered from a single White

to many hues, and endlessly combined

in living shapes that move from mind to mind.

Through all the crannies of the world we filled

with elves and goblins, though we dared to build

gods and their houses out of dark and light,

and sow the seed of dragons, ‘twas our right

(used or misused). The right has not decayed.

We  make still by the law in which we’re made.

-          JRR Tolkien, Mythopoeia, p87, Harper Collins Publishers, 2001.

I adore this passage and think it should be added to the quotes on the wall by my desk. Tolkien's work, for me, has that magical spark (for want of a better word) that makes my mind and heart come alive. I hope you have enjoyed this past month of Inspirational Tolkien Fridays as much as I have. 

And, as a last treat; here's Tolkien reading Namarië:

Worldbuilding Wednesday – Smoke, Mirrors and Herbs

The Rún (Part 2) – How the healing cloths work

Last week I explained the Talent the Rún of Airthai has been given. Unlike the Ahma who has to be either in close proximity or touch a person to be able to heal them[1]; the Rún can be far away from their healing cloths, but the cloths will still work. This is because they are able to bestow some of their healing talent into the embroidery itself. Putting this cloth on someone in need of healing will cause the healing power to drain from the cloth.

The embroideries

The embroideries of the Rún consist out of depictions of certain plants as well as their own alphabet and language. This ‘secret’ language is taught orally only to the Rún and – even when written down – it is written in this language. These books are also kept only in the House of Rún and Holt Haliern to make sure that they do not fall into the wrong hands. Young Rún, while being taught the language, will make sampler cloths to more easily learn the language, learn to transfer meaning and learn to transfer their talent.

Each cloth is first embroidered with the suitable plants or parts of plants, for example flowers, seeds or roots. Next a healing or other prayer may be worked between the flowers. The floss with which the embroideries are made are all coloured by hand by Rún. Some of the Rún may spend all their time dyeing the threads with specific plants, while others only embroider – this depends wholly on their specific Talent.

The Fakes

There are some who copy the Rún style of embroidery while they are not Rún. These cloths are often sold as love charms, binding spells and even curses. While most of these cloths are complete fakes, some are made by Vídolf and can be truly dangerous.

WIPs

A couple of days ago, I mentioned on Twitter that I am busy with a short story. At the moment I’m using the working title “Here but for Grace” and it was one of those ideas that hits you square in the brain and you have to write it down as soon as you can. Building the layers and fleshing out the story, however, needs more research that picking my brain for the right files about mirrors and folklore (which is at the back of the cabinet, covered with some cobwebs and maybe even a lost spider spinning stories in her webs). So, I headed off for a trek across the room to one of the bookcases. I grabbed my trusty Brewer’s Dictionary of Phrase and Fable and the Penguin Reference Dictionary of Symbols. But, as I am also busy with worldbuilding the Rún, I also grabbed one of the books dealing with herbs and traditional cures[2]…

Blackberries by the artist Helen M. Stevens

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[1] Those of the Ahma given the Talent to heal, that is.

[2] Yes, I really enjoy building my own reference library, ranging from the dictionaries I use in general work and translations to archaeological fieldwork and the trees of the Highveld. Which may also explain why some of the files in my brain gets misplaced every once in a while!

Inspirational Friday – Follow That Wanderlust

Or, travelling on a budget.

“So, what are you going to do this weekend?” This question is asked again and again at work on a Friday. Well, there are the usual errands and a nap (if you’re lucky), but there is also the mind-travelling. Technically, I’m going to spend time reading. But that is quite a boring way to say: “Well, actually I’m off on a quest this weekend. Off to slay a dragon (or save a dragon), save a world, and probably ride a horse and wield a sword. Or perhaps I’ll visit another country, planet or universe.”

And, if you’re also writing over the weekend, you’ll probably be packing a bag and heading off into the unknown with a half-drawn map (and some extra paper to jot down any new towns or landmarks you come across). You’ll be wearing a cloak of invisibility and yet change everything you come into contact with. That ‘castle over yonder’ is no longer just a hazy outline of stone, but filled with the bustle of people and intrigue. Maybe you’ll even add a wall or a scheming king while you’re there. Stories will unfurl, rewind, move in another direction or even abruptly stop; the story half told; the world half built.

“So, what are you doing this weekend?”

I think I’ll read a bit. Maybe write a couple of pages. But we’ll see.

Upon the hearth the fire is red,
Beneath the roof there is a bed;
But not yet weary are our feet,
Still around the corner we may meet
A sudden standing stone
That none have seen but we alone.
Tree and flower and leaf and grass,
Let them pass! Let them pass!
Hill and water under sky,
Pass them by! Pass them by!

Still around the corner there may wait
A new road or a secret gate,
And though we pass them by today,
Tomorrow we may come this way
And take the hidden paths that run,
Towards the Moon or to the Sun.
Apple, thorn and nut and sloe
Let them go! Let them go!
Sand and stone and pool and dell,
Fare you well! Fare you well!

Home is behind, the world ahead,
And there are many paths to tread
Through shadows to the edge of night,
Until the stars are all alight.
Then world behind and home ahead,
We'll wander back to home and bed.
Mist and twilight, cloud and shade,
Away shall fade! Away shall fade!
Fire and lamp, and meat and bread,
And to bed! And then to bed!

-      JRR Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings

Worldbuilding Airthai: The Rún

While the Shadow have the female servants called Vídolf (Women of the Dark Arts), the Light has those called the Rún (or the Hidden Ones). The Rún, like the Vídolf, consisted of far more women than men. So much so, in fact, that a male Rún was unheard of except in the southwest of the Western Lands and Western Isles; where there was one male Rún to every five female Rún. Although gifted with a special talent for healing, they were human and mortal, although they were more likely to reach the age of one hundred and twenty than other mortals. This made their life spans shorter than the average Ciph life span by only about thirty years.

Part 1 – The Name: Why the Hidden Ones?

This name was given to these women for two reasons. The first is that they usually hid in plain sight, living as just another member of the community. Only when living as one of the Keepers or as servant of one of the rich families could they wear the garments associated with the Rún with more freedom. This was because they could then be kept safe from the Servants of the Lewjan who wished always to do them harm because they held such power. Those living in villages or towns serving the Light would be referred to simply as “healers” or even “the needlewoman”, because their talents were with needle and thread. By using certain signs, depictions of living things (like plants) and words, they could make cloths that could heal wounds and illnesses that most healers can’t.

These signs, words and other depictions made into tapestries, embroideries and even sometimes lace and cords, were only known by the Rún (and is therefore hidden). The knowledge of these signs is taught orally from one Rún to the next. This means that Rún, once they are known as such, takes up apprenticeship with an older and accomplished Rún either from their own or another village or go to one of the Keepers’ Houses to learn. Holt Haliern in the Midlands and the House of Rún in the Western Lands have the Rún with the most talent and are therefore sought after places to go to and learn the language of the Rún.

The best of the Rún can fashion cloaks that make the wearer invisible to the eyes of the Lewjan servants or those who want to harm them. More than one Rún would often work on a cloth meant to heal a specific illness or wound; as it is extremely draining work. 


Unfortunately the cloths’ abilities can also be drained and can not be used indefinitely. The healing houses usually have cloths to help lessen pain, help knit bones or serve as an antidote to some poisons. These can be used for cases where the medicine available is not working or simply to ease extreme pain.  

They could make cloths that heal...

I came across this painting by Mary Cassat, called The Young Bride in the beautiful book In Praise of the Needlewoman by Gail C. Sirna. 

Fiction (sort of) Monday – Dragon’s Nest

Or, what started out as some thoughts about geography

The following piece started out as a musing about the geography and towns around the Dragon Cliffs. Although I had filled in some of the places on a map (which will only see the light of day once it’s been copied neatly), I still needed to flesh out the immediate surrounds a bit.

Dragon’s Nest (Part 1)

Mairejath, a Dragon Guardian of the Seafolk, made her way to the new nests to check on the eggs. During the night, five Guardians stood a vigil at each of the nests to make sure that no men from the north would try stealing them during the night. After the fateful day nearly twelve years ago when the first egg was stolen, the Guardians had thought that it would not happen again. They were wrong.

The men came nearly every summer. Each time they took eggs, Guardians, or both. The first time they had taken a young boy. He had just become an apprentice Guardian two weeks earlier after studying for four years. And while the other Guardians saved what and who they could, the boy was taken. Three dragons died in the subsequent fighting, along with over a hundred people when the dragons turned against them and attacked the closest town with fire and razor-sharp talons. That was the first time the dragons had ever turned against their Guardians. The Guardians bound them, explained what happened and promised to do whatever they could to keep it from happening again.

But the previous trust that existed between the dragons and Guardians were broken. And the men from the northern plain did come again. At first everyone was sure that none of the Seafolk ever helped the thieves from the north, but in time all agreed that they must have had help from someone who knew the south and who knew the ways of the dragons. It had come to the point where the Dragon Guardians and the other Seafolk started to question each other’s loyalties and the loyalties of the other people of Reiaghy. And so, watchtowers were built, soldiers multiplied in the Seafolk’s towns and parents no longer wanted to let their children study to become Dragon Guardians.  

Mairejath trudged up the steep slope, keeping her eyes on the ground so as not to trip on the rocks. There were no real paths to the dragons, though the Guardians did know the quickest way to the nests – and, more importantly, their dragon’s nest.

Glathnir, a great dragon of a pure blue colour had chosen Mairejath to be one of her Guardians. She was carrying a bag of food on her back for the five Guardians who had stood guard at her nest during the night. She had not slept well, her ears alert through the night to hear the sound of the Guardian’s bells if they should see the nests’ beacons lit. These beacons were built from slow-burning wood and brush and were lit only when the nest was in danger. Because the dragons mostly left the nests at night to feed, the eggs were at their most vulnerable during the dark hours. When the light was seen by the Guardians keeping watch at the Guardians’ house, they, in turn, rung the bells to wake both the Guardians and call the soldiers in the city below to arms.

From Glathnir’s nest on the Dragon Cliffs, various towns and towers were visible. There was the Ruins of Dhôr – a city lost in the Sundering, the lighthouse south of the breeding ground and on the edge of Duizisburg, her hometown and the home of the Dragon Guardians. Although most people have come to call the town simply Dragonburg – being easier to pronounce and making it sound less exotic. Perhaps people have started to forget that we escaped from the Sundered Lands. In the distance you could just make out Midton and beyond it still lay the harbor towns and the Gold Tower – another lighthouse, the name of which made it sound much grander than the white-washed stone tower it actually was.

(To be continued)