Worldbuilding Wednesday – The Dragons and Guardians’ New Home

In the previous weeks I have given a sweeping view over the history of the Midland Wars in Airthai. From the outbreak of the war between Guldargan and its neighbouring countries, to the Sanctuaries formed by the Keepers of Éamidtheo, Théotriewe and Holt Haliern, the vast change in the borders of the Midland countries and the rise of the Fáll. Then I turned my view southward once more to the Dragon City of the south and what happened to the dragons and their guardians and left the history with Guardians setting out to search for a new home among the Western Isles.

The Midland Wars – The Dragons and Guardians’ New Home

The ship the Dragon Claw left the harbour of Diuzisborg at dawn, accompanied by four Dragon Guardians – Nasja, Mairejath, Helagh and Nahshon – and the dragon Thayrla. Using the established trade routes, they travelled northwards along the coast before setting out towards the Western Isles from Black Harbour.  Six times they saw the enormous shapes of the Sea Dragons, but not once did they attack and the ship reached the Western Isle, which was called Aer Lharna*, or Moon Isle, safely.
On the shore was gathered a group of nine people. All were dressed in brown, white and green and each held a carved wooden staff. The staffs were all decorated with finely-wrought patterns in silver and green dragon tears were set into the wood. Upon their brows they wore the red dragon tears the Guardians called Dragon Gifts. The women among them wore long veils of such fine golden beadwork over their hair that it seemed as if their hair was of spun gold. All bore markings on their faces and arms, traced in green, unlike the black patterns seen on the continent.

Caythan told them how these were not permanent markings, but worn during times of trouble or when they fasted or mourned. Permanent marking – like those the Werlea (or Gile) had were shunned by them as they said that nothing in the world is permanent and therefore no permanent mark shall be placed on their bodies as all things will pass away before the final ending of the world.

These folk, the Dréothér, met the Guardians with saddened faces, saying that they had been shown this event in a dream. One, wearing many traces of green upon his face, chest and arms, spoke in the Dragon Tongue: “I saw great fields of golden grass burning; I saw a great many people suffer and I saw red dragons. Then I saw a ship bearing four lanterns being drawn to shore by a blue dragon. It has been very long since a blue dragon has visited our shores, let alone the Dragon Guardians of the Continent.”
The Guardians marvelled at the dream that had been given to these people and told them why they had come and of the wars raging in the Midlands of the Continent.

After seven days it was decided that the Dragon Guardians could come to join the green dragons and the Dréothér – or People of the Dragon – on the isle. But, it was added, some Guardians needed to remain behind in order to help the ship cross the ocean safely.
“It would be wrong to leave the coast so unprotected,” they rightly argued, “especially after being saved from the Sundered Lands and gifted the great house in Diuzisborg.” They also told of their worries about the wild dragons that now lived in the Midlands. The Dréothér spoke of text written even before the Sundering that told of how dragons were turned back to the light during the wars with the Shadow’s creatures.

At their return to Diuzisborg, Nasja told the Dragon Elder Lasnith what the Dréothér had told them. “If we do not have the texts they speak of,” he said, “the library of Holt Haliern will contain it in its vast libraries. There are many texts which have been forgotten by the world outside its walls and many date from before the Sundering.”
“You have seen them?” Lasnith asked.
“I have, though I never read them. The Keepers showed me much of the history of Airthai and the Midlands in the short time I was with them.”

After days of searching, Lasnith wrote a letter to the Wíslic of Holt Haliern with a heavy heart and Nasja and Mairejath took leave before Nasja set out to Holt Haliern. Nasja did find the text of which the Dréothér had spoken in the Sanctuary’s library and it was painstakingly copied as it had been many times before. But even with the care of the Keepers of Holt Haliern, a part of the book had gotten lost over the centuries and none of the earliest text still existed from which the information could be gleaned. So it was that Nasja returned to Diuzisborg with the text after many months. The text – which he had already studied as it was being copied – contained much information that would help them to save the dragons of the Midlands. But he also knew that he would not be able to do the work alone.

Those who studied this text and learned both how dragons could be brought back to the Light or turned towards the Shadow became known as the Dragon Seekers. Vowing only to help those dragons who had fallen or turned wild become themselves again, they set out to the Midlands when they were needed, often staying with the Keepers of Holt Haliern for long periods of time.

It was, however, also during this time that the Dragon Guardians and the dragons left their house and the shores of the Southern Lands for the Isles. Soon only a few were left who trained what few Guardians could be found among the people of the city and who travelled with the ships up and down the coast. Weary and saddened, they travelled to their new home. Within a few generations, even the Dragon Seekers would have left the Continent, leaving stories of the dragons to become little more than legends in the Midlands.

After the death of the dragon Skáhag many centuries later, the true majesty of these creatures were forgotten, replaced with the few tales of the wild dragons that was still told in the Midlands. Only on the Southern Coast did a few remember how the dragons had once kept them safe from the Fallen.

Next Week: The Seekers are Betrayed

Links to previous Midland Wars posts:
Part 1: First Strike
Part 2: Sanctuaries
Part 3: The Rise of the Fáll
Part 4: The Southern Lands during the Midland Wars

To read more about Nasja and the other Guardians, read “A Dragon’s Freedom” or “The Price of Freedom” by clicking on the links.

*For more about the moon and lunar folklore in Airthai, click here.

Photos courtesy of www.sxc.hu

Woensdag Wetenskapsfiksie – Die rooi lint

“Nee meneer, die rooi weerkaatsing-lint is nie op die pale geplak om soldate te help om hul pad hierheen te vind nie.”
Jaco loer deur die spasie tussen die deur en kosyn, al beteken dit dat sy sig deur die kettinkie, wat aan die alarm vas is, belemmer word. Hy wou nie oopmaak nie, maar die man se ID-boekie wou nie onder die deur deurskuif nou dat hy ‘n ekstra rubberstrook daar vasgeplak het nie. Ja, die plek is ‘n brandgevaar met diefwering voor elke venster en verskeie slotte op elke deur – en natuurlik twee sekuriteitshekke voordat jy by die voordeur kon kom – maar ten minste het Jaco ‘n bietjie veiliger gevoel hierbinne.

Noudat hy sy kruideniersware oor die internet kan bestel en dit by sy voordeur afgelewer word, het hy gedink sy lewe is perfek. Hy het vyf keer in een jaar getrek – en elke keer het hy seker gemaak dat hy na plekke trek waar meer mense woon. Die enigste plek waar hy nog kon gaan, was Johannesburg se middestad. Hy het geglo hy is veilig hier. Hy moes dit glo. Toe, een oggend, sien hy hoe word die rooi lint om die straatnaampale geplak. Van sy sitkamervenster kon hy beide straatname sien. Judges wat noord wys. Republiek wat oos wys. En die drie strepe rooi lint wat hom uittart – en waarsku. Hy moet met iemand praat wat kan help. Of hy moet weer trek voordat hulle hom opspoor. Eerder die Red Ants as húlle.
Dit stop reg voor sy gebou. Reg voor sy woonstel.

Hy steek ‘n sigaret aan om sy senuwees te kalmeer. “Thabo het vir my gesê die lint is op elke hoek van hier tot by William Nicol.”
Die munisipale werker glimlag bekommerd vir Jaco. Dan kyk hy weg en sê iets vir Thabo wat Jaco nie verstaan nie. Die sekuriteitswag van die woonstelblok tree nader aan die deur sodat hy Jaco beter kan sien.
“Ek verseker jou, Jaco, dat die lint dit net makliker maak vir die motoriste om te sien waar hulle gaan in die aand. Jy weet, vir load shedding en so.”
Hy gee Jaco ‘n wye glimlag. “Jy weet hoe dit is met die munisipaliteite – hulle staak seker weer, so hulle het nog net nie die lint orals opgesit nie.”
Jaco steek nog ‘n sigaret aan.
“In elk geval, Jaco,” sê Thabo, “wie dink jy gaan ons inval? Namibië? Lesotho? Swaziland? Illegal Aliens?”
Hy onthou dat die plaaslike supermark die vorige dag kruideniersware afgelewer het, maar hy kan nie onthou wanneer laas hy vir dr. Naidoo by Jaco gesien het nie. Of wanneer laas die apteek sy medisyne kom aflewer het nie.
Jaco skud sy kop en vra hulle om sagter te praat.
“Julle sien,” sê hy en neem nog ‘n trek van sy sigaret, “dit sal nie van ons bure kom nie. Of oorsee nie. Dit is die Ander wat sal kom. Maar ek skat hulle is seker ook illegal,” voeg hy met ‘n skewe glimlag by. Hy wys na die lug. “Hulle kom in die aand. Ek het al die ligte gesien. Hulle vat mense om op eksperimente te doen. Hulle het my al geneem.”
Hy vat nog ‘n trek van sy sigaret en blaas ‘n bol rook uit. “En waar is ‘n beter plek om te begin oorneem? Ons het nie ‘n groot genoeg weermag om hulle te stop nie. En wat gaan die buurtwag doen? Of armed response? Julle moet vir die burgemeester sê, julle moet hom sê ons moet die lint afhaal. Of vir die raad sê. Vir iemand sê. Die diefwering kan die boewe uithou. Ek kan diewe met pepersproei spuit, maar nie vir hulle nie. Ons weet nie hoe om hulle te stop nie.”
Hy druk die sigaretstompie in die asbakkie op die tafeltjie by die deur dood en steek dadelik nog ‘n sigaret aan. “Sal julle hom sê?” smeek hy. “Sal julle hom sê om die lint af te haal voor dit hulle na my lei?”
Thabo glimlag vir Jaco en praat met die munisipale werker. Jaco kan hulle nie verstaan nie, maar dit lyk belowend, aangesien hulle ten minste nie lag soos die ander mense wat hy al gewaarsku het nie.
“Ons sal dit hanteer, Meneer.”
Jaco bedank die twee mans en sluit die deur. Hy skuif ‘n kas voor die tweede veiligheidshek net om seker te maak dat niemand kan inkom nie. Dan trek hy die sitkamer se gordyne toe, maar los ‘n skrefie sodat hy die straat van die rusbank af kan dophou.

Dit is reeds laat in die aand en Jaco is besig om televisie te kyk toe die ligte uitgaan en die TV-skerm ontplof. Die klank van die vuvuzelas verder af in die gang word deur luide vloeke vervang. Die paar motors in die straat se enjins stol en die motoriste se kwaai stemme dryf deur die venster. Toe is alles skielik stil. Hy probeer om hulp skree, maar geen geluid kom uit sy mond nie. Hy kan nie beweeg nie en sy hart begin vinniger en vinniger pomp. Buite blink die rooi lint terwyl die lig in sy woonstel al skerper word.
Hy sien vyf maer, grys figure voor hom staan.
Hulle het hom weer gekry.
Om hom word die lig dan verblindend wit terwyl hy in die lug opstyg.

Hierdie flitsverhaal het eerste hier verskyn.

Foto met vergunning van  www.sxc.hu

“O vuur van die Gees” van die Sequentia de Spiritu Sancto

Christopher Page beskryf die Abdis Hildegard von Bingen as “een van die mees merkwaardige kreatiewe persoonlikhede van die Middeleeue” (2012:2).  Sy is in 1098 gebore en in die sorg van die abdis Jutta van Spanheim – abdis van ’n klooster geheg aan die monnikeklooster van Disibodenberg – geplaas toe sy agt jaar oud was. “In 1141, het sy Jutta as abdis opgevolg en het tonge vuur vanuit die hemel sien neerdaal en op haar gaan vaskleef. Daarna het sy haarself gewy aan ’n lewe van intense en driftige kreatiwiteit. Onder haar litereêre werke is twee boeke oor natuurkennis en medisyne (Physica and Cause et cure) en ’n moraliteitspel, genaamd die Ordo Virtutum, wat alle ander werke in daardie genre met ongeveer ’n eeu vooruitloop. Haar boek van voorspieëlinge, Scivias, het haar vir tien jaar tussen 1141 en 1151 besig gehou.” (2010:2) Hildegard het op 17 September 1179 gesterf en alhoewel haar kanonisering verskeie maal voorgestel is, is sy nooit gekanoniseer nie.

Die lied “O ignis spiritus” word beskryf as “Hildegard se apostroof tot haar Muse, die Pinkstervuur wat op haar neergedaal het en kennis van die belangrike Bybelse boeke meegedeel het.” (2010:3).

Na die video van die lied gee ek eerste die Latynse teks, waarna die Afrikaanse vertaling volg.**

O ignis spiritus 
O ignis spirits paracliti,
vita vite omnis creature,
sanctus es vivificando formas.

Sanctus es ungendo
periculose fractos;
sanctus es tergendo
fetida vulnera.

O spiraculum sanctitatis, o ignis caritatis,
o dulcis gustus in pectoribus et infusion cordium
in bono odore virtutum.

O fons purissimus, in quo consideratur
quod Deus alienos colligit
et perditos requirit.

O lorics vite et spes compaginis
membrorum omnium,
et o cingulum honestatis, salva beatos.

Custodi eos qui carcerati sun tab inimico,
et solve ligatos
quos divina vis salvare vult.

O iter fortissimum quod penetravit omnia;
in altissimis et in terrenis
et in omnibus abyssis
tu omnes componis et colligis.

De te nubes fluunt, ether volat,
lapides humorem habent,
aque rivulos educunt,
et terra viriditatem sudat.

Tu etiam simper educis doctos
per inspirationem sapientie letificatos.

Unde laus tibi sit,
qui es sonus laudis,
et gaudium vite,
spes et honor fortissimus
dans premia lucis.

O vuur van die Gees**

O vuur van die verkwikkende Gees,
lewe van die lewe van die hele Skepping,
U is heilig in die verkwikking van Alles.

U is heilig in die salwing van
dié wat swaar beproef word;
U is heilig in die reiniging van
die smetterige wond.

O asem van heiligheid, O vuur van liefde
O soete stroom in die bors en vloeding van die hart
in die goeie aroma van die deugde.

O reinste fontein, in wie daar gesien word
dat God die heidene oproep
en die verlorenes soek.

O maliekolder van lewe en hoop
om al die lede van Ekklesia saam te bind,
O sabelkoppel van eerlikheid, red die geseëndes.

Bewaak almal wat deur die Vyand gevange geneem is,
en laat dié gebondenes is vry
wat Goddelike Krag wil red.

O onwrikbaarste pad wat alles binnedring;
in die hoogste van alle plekke, op die vlaktes,
en in elke bodemlose diepte
roep U almal saam en verenig almal.

Deur U stroom die wolke, die boonste lug swewe,
die rotse het hul hardheid,
die waters lei voort uit hul splete
en die aarde gee varsheid af.

U lei altyd dié wat begryp en
vreugdevol gemaak word deur die inspirasie van wysheid.

Waarvandaan U lof kom
U, wat die klank van lof
En die saligheid van lewe is,
hoop en rykste geskenk
wat die beloning van lig gee.


* “A Feather of the Breath of God”: Sequences and hymns deur Abdis Hildegard van Bingen. Hyperion, CDA30009. 2010. Alle aanhalings is uit die teks deur Christopher Page geneem. 1982 & 2010.
**Die vertaling is deur my gemaak vanaf die Engelse vertaling wat in die bogenoemde teks voorkom.

“O Fire of Spirit” from the Sequentia de Spiritu Sancto

Christopher Page describes Abbess Hildegard von Bingen as “one of the most remarkable creative personalities of the Middle Ages” (2010:2). Born in 1098, she was put into the care of the abbess Jutta of Spanheim – abbess of a community of nuns attached to the monastery of Disibodenberg - when she was eight years old. “In 1141, having succeeded Jutta as abbess, she saw tongues of flame descend from the heavens and settle upon her. Thereafter she devoted herself to a life of intense and passionate creativity. Among her literary works she produced two books on natural history and medicine (Physica and Cause et cure) and a morality play, the Ordo Virtutum, which pre-dates all other works in that genre by some hundred years. Her book of visions, Scivias, occupied her for ten years between 1141 and 1151.” (Page 2010:2) Hildegard died on 17 September 1179 and, though her canonization was proposed various times, she was never canonized.

The song “O ignis spiritus” is described as “Hildegard’s apostrophe to her Muse, the Pentecostal fire which settled upon her and imparted knowledge of the major biblical books.” (Page 2010:3).

O ignis spiritus
O ignis spirits paracliti,
vita vite omnis creature,
sanctus es vivificando formas.

Sanctus es ungendo
periculose fractos;
sanctus es tergendo
fetida vulnera.

O spiraculum sanctitatis, o ignis caritatis,
o dulcis gustus in pectoribus et infusion cordium
in bono odore virtutum.

O fons purissimus, in quo consideratur
quod Deus alienos colligit
et perditos requirit.

O lorics vite et spes compaginis
membrorum omnium,
et o cingulum honestatis, salva beatos.

Custodi eos qui carcerati sun tab inimico,
et solve ligatos
quos divina vis salvare vult.

O iter fortissimum quod penetravit omnia;
in altissimis et in terrenis
et in omnibus abyssis
tu omnes componis et colligis.

De te nubes fluunt, ether volat,
lapides humorem habent,
aque rivulos educunt,
et terra viriditatem sudat.

Tu etiam simper educis doctos
per inspirationem sapientie letificatos.

Unde laus tibi sit,
qui es sonus laudis,
et gaudium vite,
spes et honor fortissimus
dans premia lucis.

O fire of Spirit 

O fire of the comforting Spirit,
life of the life of all Creation,
you are holy in quickening all Kind.

You are holy in anointing
the dangerously stricken;
you are holy in wiping
the reeking wound.

O breath of holiness, O fire of love,
O sweet draught in the breast and flooding of the heart
in the good aroma of virtues.

O purest fountain, in whom it is seen
that God has summoned the gentiles
and sought out the lost.

O mail-coat of life and hope
of binding all the members of Ecclesia,
O sword-belt of honesty, save the blessed.

Guard all those who have been imprisoned by the Enemy,
and release the fettered
whom Divine Power wishes to save.

O most steadfast path which penetrates all things;
in the highest places, on the plains,
and in every abyss
you summon and unite all.

Through you the clouds stream, the upper air flies,
the stones have their temper,
the waters lead forth from their rills
and the earth exudes freshness.

You also always lead forth the comprehending
made joyful by the inspiration of wisdom.

Whence praise be to you
who are the sound of praise
and bliss of life,
hope and richest gift
giving the rewards of light.


* “A Feather of the Breath of God”: Sequences and hymns by Abbess Hildegard of Bingen. Hyperion, CDA30009. 2010. All quotation taken from the text by Christopher Page. 1982 & 2010.

Hildegard cover found here.

Spoke, boontjieranke en wolhaarstories

Skryfpraatjies 
Wat ’n week! Met die winter wat vinnig nader kom word dit definitief moeiliker om in die aand te werk. Maar dié wat my onlangse twiets gesien het, sou sien dat ek deesdae meer werk (en studiewerk) in die oggend gedoen kry. Dit is nou nie omdat ek vroeër opstaan nie, maar omdat ek later begin werk. Dít gee my ten minste ’n halfuur in die oggend om te skryf voorday ek moet werk toe gaan. In dié tyd het ek dit reggekry om die volgende weergawe van ’n “WIP” klaargemaak waarvoor ek Jan en die boontjierank as inspirasie gebruik. Ek het dit vir ’n paar vriende gegee om te lees en oor kommentaar te gee voordat ek dit weer deurwerk en hopelik gepubliseer kry. Ek het ook ’n ander stuk klaargemaak en gestuur vir moontlike Suid-Afrikaanse publikasie. Nou hou ek net duime vas.

Ek is ook besig met ’n paar ander, korter stukke waaraan ek gaan werk terwyl die “boontjierank” storie vir ’n week of twee in ’n laai lê.

Zombies! Spoke! En ander studiegoeters 
My ander fokus hierdie jaar is natuurlik my studies. Ek gaan die naweek weer op ’n Groot Biblioteekekskursie met ’n lang lys van goed om te doen (en ’n lang speellys van studiemusiek).

Ek het ook lekker gelag hierdie week terwyl ek aan my essay werk. Die droë humor van die skrywer van die Eyrbyggja Saga laat my altyd krul van die lag. Een deel wat my veral laat lag het is in hoofstuk 54, getiteld “More Ghosts”. Nadat ’n groep mans wat gaan visvang het verdrink, keer hulle terug na die plaas elke aand om by die vuur te sit:
Thorodd and his men walked across the main room, which had two doors, and into the living room. They ignored the greetings people gave them and sat down at the fire. The people ran out of the living-room, but Thorodd and his men stayed on until the fire began to burn very low, then went away. As long as the funeral feast lasted this continued: every evening the drowned men would come to the fire. It gave people at the feast plenty to talk about, but some of them thought it would stop once the feast was over. 

Aanhaling geneem uit Eyrbyggja Saga, vertaal deur Hermann Pálsson en Paul Edwards, gepubliseer deur Penguin Classics.

Norsemen Landing in Iceland, deur H. A. Guerber

Ghosts, Beanstalks and Spinning Yarns

Writing Ramblings
This has been quite a week! With the winter quickly drawing near, it’s definitely getting more difficult to work at night. But those who have seen my tweets in the early morning, would have noticed that I’m getting some writing (and studying) done before work. Not that I’m suddenly getting up earlier, mind you, but starting work later. This gives me at least half an hour of hustling on my writing before leaving for work. In that time I’ve managed to finish the next draft of a WIP in which I’ve used Jack and the Beanstalk for inspiration. I’ve now sent it to a few friends to read and comment on before reworking it and hopefully getting it published. I’ve also finished and sent in another piece for South African publication and holding thumbs it gets accepted.

I’m also busy with a few other shorter pieces which I’ll be working on while the “beanstalk” WIP hangs around in a drawer for a week or two.

Zombies! Ghosts! And other Study Ramblings 
My other focus this year, of course, is also my studies. I have another Great Library Quest planned for this weekend, with a lengthy to-do list (and a proper study music playlist).

I’ve also had such a good laugh this week while working on my essay for later this year. The dry humour of the writer of the Eyrbyggja Saga never fails to crack me up. One part which especially cracked me up is in chapter 54, entitled “More Ghosts”, after a party of men go out fishing and drown.

Their ghosts return to the homestead night after night to sit by the fire:
Thorodd and his men walked across the main room, which had two doors, and into the living room. They ignored the greetings people gave them and sat down at the fire. The people ran out of the living-room, but Thorodd and his men stayed on until the fire began to burn very low, then went away. As long as the funeral feast lasted this continued: every evening the drowned men would come to the fire. It gave people at the feast plenty to talk about, but some of them thought it would stop once the feast was over. 

Quote taken from Eyrbyggja Saga, translated by Hermann Pálsson and Paul Edwards, published by Penguin Classics.

Norsemen Landing in Iceland, by H. A. Guerber

Worldbuilding Wednesday – The Dragon Guardians of the Western Isles

I've gotten a bit side-tracked (perhaps a slight “Worldbuilding Cold” and not full-blown “Worldbuilder’s Disease”) while writing about the Western Isles and then, specifically the Dragon Guardians of these Isles. They are Guardians who had not been present on Continent after the Sundering. Their dragons are also green in colour, unlike the blue and red dragons found in the Southern Lands. Here is a first look at them:

The Dragon Guardians of the Western Isles
On the shore there was gathered a group of nine people. All were dressed in brown, white and green and each held a carved wooden staff. The staffs were all decorated with finely-wrought patterns in silver and green dragon tears were set into the wood. Upon their brows they wore the red dragon tears the Guardians called Dragon Gifts. The women among them wore long veils of such fine golden beadwork over their hair that it seemed as if their hair was of spun gold. All bore markings on their faces and arms, traced in green, unlike the black patterns seen on the continent.

Caythan told how these markings were not permanent, but worn during times of trouble or when they fasted or mourned. Permanent marking – like those the Werlea (or Gile) had were shunned by them as they said that nothing in the world is permanent and therefore no permanent mark shall be placed on their bodies as all things will pass away before the final ending of the world.

These folk met the Guardians with saddened faces, saying that they had been shown this event in a dream. One, wearing many traces of green upon his face, chest and arms, spoke: “I saw great fields of grass burning, I saw people who suffer and I saw red dragons. Then I saw a ship bearing four lanterns being drawn to shore by a blue dragon. It has been very long since a blue dragon has visited our shores, let alone the Dragon Guardians of the Continent.”

The Guardians marvelled at the dream that had been given to these people and told them why they had come.

So, while I type away at a story including them, I hope to have a proper “Western Isles” post ready in two weeks’ time. Next week you can read how the dragons of the Southern Lands came to the Western Isles and also how the Dragon Seekers came to be.
Until then, Á Agrai tellarias or s'agrélar silássa!

Ps. Check out my Pinterest boards for writing inspiration pictures and other beautiful things.