stareyedsailor:

Transcriptions are going quite well. I'll keep updating my tale here. The Prologue's still untitled -- hell, the entire story is really. Any suggestions?
Anyhoo, updated/constantly updating.

Prologue

R'hown knew he was taking a risk. Truth be told, the first twin offspring of the Kral'Yl should have been asleep in these quiet hours of night. Honestly, he half wanted to turn around and go back to the citadel. He almost did turn back when the thought of his resting pod came to mind.
But R'hown did not turn back.
He stopped with his back pressed against the main fortress wall to let his eleven-inch ears home in on the echo that held his innate curiosity in thrall. Sensitive iridescent skin felt the smooth carved rock of the wall beneath thinly woven threads of an imperial woven tapestry. R'hown's left ear twitched and brushed against the liquid-like cloth. His long head leaned closely against the wall to the point of pushing on it.
R'hown caught his own chirping yelp of surprise when the wall fell inward.


The hard ground beneath his face was cold. Too cold. R'hown attempted to stand up but found his objective impossible. Crawling wasn't his strong point, nor was it particularly enjoyed. Crawling was the only way to continue onward however, and he wanted to know why he felt an Undocumented life so deep within/beneath the imperial palace.
R'hown wanted to know what younger life-form had been barred from Documenting, whose offspring it was and...just why.
The passage was narrow at best and cramped at its worst. Ultimately deciding to fuse his three legs and slither like an underground cil'a, the almost-adult Xil-Zynh made it slowly through the twisted labyrinth of a crawlway.
Blackness was the only thing his huge, slanted eyes perceived for what felt like half-a-Turning. His awareness was of the cold, hard rock surrounding him, distant sounds hollowed out by the thick stone. Skin receptor nerves relayed the rough, sometimes abrasive contour of the passage.
R'hown didn't turn back.

The effort was a long, labouring belly crawl through these claustrophobic, subterranean passages. It was the scratching rub of rock against pale, iridescent flesh.
The effort that sprang from an almost nonexistent signature and inherent curiosity was worth it.
Every scrape and scratch was forgotten when the crawlway widened. While slithering was no longer necessary and while his three legs could unlock, R'hown found the opening still tiny.
This too was soon forgotten as his eyes blinked against a dim, pulsing glow of a cleteph lantern.
It was all forgotten when his ears heard breath and the beat of a single heart not yet split into the three of adolescence.
It was all forgotten as the single heart hummed a signature into the closed, black air.

Life was here and it was alone.
Aloneness was known here.

And it broke R'hown's Being to realise this.


R'hown was lucky to return to the resting pods before the first sun rose above the southern horizon.

He knew it was possible to keep a secret -- it wasn't considered deception but it was a thin line to walk. He couldn't afford to let this secret out though, for he also knew what happened to most Undocumented life-forms.
One didn't become Undocumented for trivial reasons.
R'hown lay for many hours in the silence with his mind racing. He thought of what he'd seen in the flickering light.
The light had reflected a dark albino blue and a tangled mass of long, gold hair shot through with silver. The walls surrounding R'hown and the unknown blue were like a Pandora's box.
The light gave quiet, secret beauty.

R'hown remembered the shadows thrown on the walls. The cleteph brought with light, shadow and it couldn't be denied.
He remembered the unnatural glitter on the blue skin. He shuddered at the memory of the same eerie shine in the beautiful long hair.
Blue had been marred; streaked by gray-white and that ungodly glitter.
No one heard him weep in the dark, cursing the revealed secret.
Cleteph lights were notorious for telling the dark truths alongside the beauty.
R'hown hated cleteph lights tonight.


Lug'had was perplexed. His twin had missed the Red Dawn and was still absent as the silver-streaked noon sky emerged.
"My Matron, what is the location of my blood-kin reflected?"
Lug'had's ears fell back as his mother turned to face him. She tilted her long head down to meet her offspring's worried yellow eyes. The twins were rarely apart, having forged a strong bond. She flicked her tri-forked tongue in approval.
"My Offspring, he did not emerge from the pods. I will allow you to check them."

When both Matron and Offspring crossed wrists with one another, Lug'had turned and slithered to the resting pods.
He was not disappointed.
The chamber was lit but the cletephs were turned low, dimming the place to near-darkness. Lug'had cocked an ear in complete confusion and quietly released a gryliliden dose into the warm air. He nodded seconds later when the air still smelled clear of parasites or Signature abnormalities. His twin was not ill or in bodily pain.
Meditation?
He thought on that and took a breath to ready himself for a very possible confrontation.

"R'hown? My blood-kin, do you hear?"
The younger twin whispered into the almost deafening quiet. It took nearly an eclipse until a response was garnered. When it came, it was thankfully not one of anger.
When it came, the tone quietly shook Lug'had to the core of himself. It was a tone that had him almost wishing for an angry tirade from the usually outward-acting sibling.
"Please, away. Away."
It was likely against logical judgment that Lug'had persisted, albeit with four of his six stomach chambers churning.
"I believe it unwise to do so, my blood-kin. I have fear of this solitude creating much pain."
R'hown turned around and this time gave an angry response; one enough to put a wind to his brother's feet. His voice didn't need to be raised.
The words alone did the damage.
"Away with thee! Do not tread upon ground that has no need of thee; I stand as thine elder and thus do I speak. Away!"
Lug'had raced out of the pod chamber amazed that he could still breathe. He was on autopilot now as the single lung in his chest shut down, thus activating the ridges along the back of his neck to process the searing light of four suns. The darkness of the pod chamber had become like a solid thing, a thing that had dealt a kick to the gut. He didn't care that the Matron saw him run through the palace halls. He didn't care that slithering was no longer what his limbs did to propel him onward.
The four suns greeted him with the pleasant burn of light and intense heat but he didn't stop to enjoy it.
He didn't stop until he passed the banfa'al groves and came to the shore caves at the edge of the sea. The thick, black water roiled and roared at him, challenging him to make it into the honeycombed network of caves cut into the cellanite-like rock. Lug'had met the challenge, leaped forward and started climbing. His three legs were damp and slick with ocean water but his hands were not. He climbed until he reached the apex.
At the apex, Lug'had threw his head back and wailed to the sky.


The Kral'Yl heard the echoing howl from outside and knew the sound instantly. None that ever bore offspring was careless enough not to know their seed's own voice. The Patron whispered to an attendant and ran to the doors. He knew where the sound was coming from but not why. He also knew not to pursue his offspring yet -- immediate pursuit after a sound like that was not a wise move.
"My Bond Mate, why is Lug'had creating such a sound?"
"I know not, my Bond Mate. I shall seek out his twin and ask."
The two shared a caress along their jaw lines and knew their course of action. The Matron returned to her place on the throne to keep calm and order among the palace proceedings. The Patron disappeared into the sleeping pod chamber with confused, conflicting emotions.
He was angry, knowing only a brother could cause that kind of wail. He was confused, knowing nothing of why such a sound would occur. And he was afraid, afraid that the damage done might not be realised yet by either one of the two still very young children.
His deep, resonant voice spoke into the dark chamber with calm authority.
"R'hown. My offspring, speak."

"Away, please."

Like Lug'had before, the tone shook the Patron to the core of himself. Knowing the paradox of Documentation -- that constant knowing of other life forms pitted against/alongside the freedom to keep secrets -- he asserted more assuredly with his age and authority as a parent.

"R'hown. My Offspring, you have created pain. It is disharmony."

Disharmony. That one word sent a screaming howl from R'hown's voice to echo that of his brother. Disharmony. The Patron drew closer, coming to take his elder son into his grasp. Long fingers flickered down the back of R'hown's head and neck ridges. Then the hand came up to gently trace behind R'hown's ear and down his jaw.
"My Offspring. You remain new to the world and new to its ways. You may keep your secret but please, tell no untruths. It is not harmonious an this disharmony with untruth shall create anger and pain."
R'hown blinked his large eyes in a vain attempt to stop the milky white tears from falling. It wasn't common that he called his father by name but truth and now guilt demanded it.
"Kale-tymb'o il-Prymus'jid-den, My secret remains. I have committed an evil."
"What is this evil you believe you have committed, Horae'nikta-R'hown?"

Their tones had become formal and clipped, mimicking the ways held when a truly evil act was believed to have been performed. It was in essence, a sort of trial and required some formality.
It was not so stiff though, that the Patron eliminated all gentleness from his voice and for that, R'hown was thankful. When he spoke his confession, the young one turned his head down and let his ears flop forward. Shame permeated him in a bitter gray-bronze scent.
"I spoke evil words to my blood-kin."
"What did you speak, my Offspring?"
"I told him to Away."

When Prymus did not speak, his child shook with held-back sobs. He hadn't heard its entirety but had caught the end of his brother's keening wail. That alone burned his ears and put his not yet three hearts to a galloping, uneven beat.
He learned the darker side of Documentation and silently lashed out at himself for his error.
"My Offspring, cease, please. You have committed an error. not an evil."
"I have created pain, my Patron. Is pain not an evil thing?"

Prymus smiles and flared both head crests up. It was what his two children called his "wise face".

"My Offspring, pain is both evil and necessary. When felt, it can be as a warning, speaking of danger. It can also be evil, when it is used in the sheath of anger. It is a weapon when used with anger. It is the result of anger's lash. Do you understand?"
"Yes, my Patron but it is evil. Evil cannot be remedied, can it?"
"Most can. This is an Error -- did you have intention to cause Lug'had pain?"
"I did not."
"You see, it is an Error. All Errors can be remedied. Small evils can as well. Seek out your twin and speak. Allow him to understand. With understanding -- "
" -- comes enlightenment and from enlightenment comes Harmony."
"Yes, my Offspring."
The Patron flared his head crests and perked both ears, turning his "wise face" into a comical, silly expression. He walked out of the pod chamber with the uplifting sound of R'hown's laughter.



So I write on. And one of these days, I'll find a scanner big enough to scan my maps of Renne's world. For now though, I find i must do a little nutshell vocabulary-coaching.

Gryliliden -- a harmless pheromone that when released into air or water, reacts to parasites, disease or other bodily, mental or emotional problems. A typical reaction turns air and water a slight yellowish-brown and releases a bitter, unpleasant scent.

Cleteph -- Comparative to a glow worm, a cleteph is a docile, bioluminescent, lmbless animal that is often caught and raised to act as a light source. Keeping a cleteph inside a lantern does not harm the animal as lanterns are typically made of a glass-like substance that the cleteph can feed on. Brightening and dimming a cleteph lantern is done by lengthening or shortening of the traditional hollow, tube-like structure of the lantern.

Back to writing!

-R