Capítulo 11: 11: My world, Boredom.
♪Limes - Saucin' w/ H E R B♪
This world is called Vafiea. In the local language Ryt, it's called Refuge. Nobody knew who first coined that term for this world.
Approximately a hundred thousand millennia ago, ancestors of almost all sapient species in this world were led in by fairies. They were escaping from disasters like famine, war, tyranny, and some cases, extinction.
In all of the records, chronicles, and history books during the so-called Safeguarding Caravan, the fairies were using a network of portals only seen by those gifted by the fairies. Making the "chosen ones" be the unanimous leader of their respective races as they called themselves as a prophet or something of the similar.
Furthermore, each species' original world geopolitical situation has escalated to the point of either vilifying or worshiping the fairies. As expected, except for the one's where extinction of their race is imminent, the great conflict has ensued to which it is aptly named, The Great Conflict. One historian has stated, during her scrutiny in the events of the Great Conflict of each race.
"In my search for the grand curiosity for the reasoning behind the fairies' motivation in helping the other races. I have stumbled upon a simple fact that none of my colleagues and mentors has discussed. There was a lack of presence from the fairies during the Great Conflicts."
Furthermore, for publishing such a statement, the public ridiculed the historian for casting the fairies into a bad light.
Once each race survived their Great Conflict and crossed through the portal instructed to them by the fairies; Awaiting them was a paradise much like to their dreams.
The chosen ones that lead their people to this paradise took it in stride that trusting the fairies was the right choice. The environment was suited for their species to thrive.
From the alpine mountain, arid flatlands, tropical forest, and island chains, various species settled in the new world they inhabit. They grew, learned, built, and expanded.
However, nothing lasts forever. Each species soon realized that there were others under the same circumstances. They were refugees running from similar conflicts to save their people. To their surprise, they were sharing this so-called paradise.
All sorts of reactions have resulted from suddenly knowing that you have to live with a neighbor. Not only that, but the neighbors were also insistent that they were here first. Some took it very well and established goodwill and prosperous trade; some close their borders thus effectively making them xenophobic; some just attacked them immediately but was stopped by the fairies; The fairies did not like it when a race tried to eradicate others because they look different;
It became a repeat of action by the fairies to transport delinquent races to a different environment, with much harder living conditions as punishment. The fairies replaced the guilty race with a species that has similar features. Many historians to this day have debated as to why the fairies were doing this sort of action of punishment and replacement.
This cycle continued until 15 millennia ago, the fairies seemed to have loosened their watch over the species, like they were just tired and not cared much any more. Wars, schemes, famine, assassination, and racism was everything during this period. There was an instance of a race of humans that live in an island chain archipelago wiped out by a race of sea folks due to a misunderstanding. The sea folks were hunting a race of short-eared elves that lived near the ocean but as they were in a frenzied state, they only realized that they were eradicating a different species.
The sea folks were solemnly waiting for the fairies to punish them. It took about five years for them to realize that the all-powerful fairies did not come to take them away. Soon, news of this has circulated throughout Vafiea and more cruel wars have followed.
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"That summed it all up for the general history of this world."
[Heh. You are lousy at storytelling.] Conny flicked a booger.
[The one who tells evils of others, shall look to oneself if such evils have spilled.] Monk added while he sat down with eyes closed.
[I give it a 2.5/5 score. It was summarized way too much.] Chuni booed at him while holding an enlarged holoboard. [You turn the fairies into something else!]
[It does convey a story.] Specs commented while working on his holoboard. [Only, it cast the fairies into a negative outlook.]
*Click*
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Leth and Antique did not participate in this banter. They were busy in each other's holoboard, discussing the Ryt Alphabet and their knowledge of the fairy alphabet and language.
See, Specs was troubled by this.
He was a man of science, Allegedly. The topic of magic, portals, races, and a race of magical little people who uses portals was in itself, mind-boggling for him.
However, only one thing made this topic worthwhile to him. The Ryt Alphabet is a direct link to everything about this world. Though Specs is the self-proclaimed expert to science, he was referring to natural sciences. He made a note to familiarize himself a bit more with whatever is happening.
Ryt. Means "Say" to the original fairy language.
During the early phases of the tension between races, there was a need to understand each other to prevent mutual destruction from the fairies. So everyone looked for the one thing that they can both understand. The Testimonial Tablet was it.
Inscribed on a stone tablet are a letter and a set of rules. It also included the signature and statement of the race's leader. Except, only the race's leader can understand it. The fairies have instructed each race to look at the tablet for guidance, and as expected from the fairies, It was too vague.
Ironically, it was also the time where interaction and cooperation were at their peak. The Ryt language has started as a rough translation of the Testimonial Tablet to its counterpart race's language. It served as the go-to-language for interaction between races. However, if you can consider slandering, cursing, and talking in a mocking voice is interacting.
On the other hand, cooperation between races was an interesting development. From all history materials in the library, the manner it happened was truly unique. The cooperation was like a rambling of school children mocking each other.
Since each race has its translation of the tablet, their particular pronunciation, their hasty penmanship, and their botch understanding of the language has resulted in an entertaining misunderstanding between the races. Wherein, everyone was imposing their translated version was the right one, thus creating a mess where the other was interpreting it as an insult due to the similarity of sounds in their language.
The modern Ryt is now an amalgamation of the various pronunciations to a single alphabet. Curiously, this format resembles closely to earth's alphabets.
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"What do you think about him? Tilar" Syris asked the man that stood before him, while he continued his work.
The man dutifully arranged the tea set down to the table. He swiftly served Syris a cup of tea with a side of toasted honeyed bread.
"An expensive stray, My lord." Tilar replied "He is familiar with the manners of nobility, give it some time then somebody will come around looking for him" clearing the tray to the tea cart
"I think that time has passed, Tilar." Syris put down his Fol'pen. He placed his elbows on the table, clasped his hands together, he rested his chin on his hands.
"Indeed, My lord." Tilar faced perked up. "Noon is nearing, should I call for him?"
The chair turned, facing Tilar. Syris shook his head and tapped on the table "I'll call for him myself." Turning his seat to face the windows behind him. "Might get entertaining with him around. Don't you think, Tilar? Oh, don't forget some refreshments and food. I like some Sweet Crumble Apple."
Tilar laughed "You ate them all, My lord."
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"Sef"
Standing before a bookshelf, Sephiroth shuffled the contents of the bookshelf to fit the book entitled "Viewpoint: Piotl Audilatian." back inside.
He heard Syris called out to him. "Here!" he shouted.
A gust of wind rustled some books and papers. All of them knew Syris used magic to arrive nearby because Leth was shouting again. Only this time, Leth added the word "wind" in his vocabulary.
Syris rummages through the paper maze and leans his head to the side of the shelf. Looking at Sephiroth. "Sef!" He called out and gestured to him to follow.
"Mm-Hmm" Sephiroth hummed back. He laid the book in and walked towards him. Standing before him was a tall tone built man, ever admiring the mess he had made.
"Well now, Tilar, will not be pleased." He grabbed a random paper from the ground. " Oh! I was wondering where I'd put this one-- Uh, I'm sorry for the mess. Do kindly walk around carefully." waving to Sephiroth.
"How- How's your health?" Syris stuttered for a bit as yesterday had both surprised and scared him so much.
As far as he can tell, no one just spasms out from learning a new language. "A deviant event. For sure, but I need to be careful. No telling what will happen if I rush this." he thought.
"I'm okay now," Sephiroth answered back in his stoic manner.
"Ahh, That's good."
The situation turned awkward as Syris had prepared himself to try to start some conversation but failed to do so. On the other hand, Sephiroth and the gang were clueless about his situation as they were arguing with each other about what happened yesterday.
Nearing the doorway, Syris paused as his hand was on the doorknob. "I haven't properly introduced you to Tilar?" he asked. To which, Sephiroth replied with a nod.
"He's the house's butler. To me, He's family-- You do know what a butler is? Right?" Syris' left eye arched up. Sephiroth replied again with a nod.
Syris and Sephiroth walked down the hallway on their way to the dining hall. Syris tried and failed multiple times to strike a good conversation with him. His face darkened when Sephiroth continuously replied with hymns and nods.
When they entered the dining hall, they were greeted by Tilar announcing the meal and the compliments of the day. The usual family table that is decorated with a simple white cloth that covered the whole table along with other dinnerware but perfectly positioned from a seasoned hand.
While Tilar was impressed with himself, he didn't realize until a few seconds that Sephiroth was standing before him. He quickly composed himself and greeted him curtly.
"The butler," Sephiroth responded. He had to tilt his head up to look at Tilar.
"The stray," Tilar replied. He eyed the boy up and down then scruffing.
Syris bit down on the bread, though it was slow. He'd made sure to let the two hear the crackling sound as he chews on it.
"and where is your butt, Butt-ler." Sephiroth attempted humor.
Tilar was not ready for this. He was taken aback of this unusual line of conversation. His eyes widen, tilt his head down to get a quick look at the serious face that spouted utter nonsense. He leveled his head back, closed his eyes, and breathed. He regained his composure shortly after.
"and here I thought, there's only one jester in this house," Tilar replied.
Syris coughed as he choked for a bit as he heard that.
The tension rises. Both are sternly looking at each other. One looks up at the tyranny while the other looks down at the stupidity for an awkward amount of time.
Then followed by a string of laughter from the two as Syris continued munching on this fuzzy atmosphere.
"Come sit at the table, Little Lord." Tilar laid his hand on the boy's shoulder and ushered him through.
Sephiroth, uncharacteristically, smiled so fully that Tilar was again taken aback. He remembered the days when his lord, Syris, was a little boy.
To Tilar, Syris was a joyful, energetic, creative, and innocent child. He always felt conflicted... or indignant, for the times he reminisces those moments.
"Tilar~ Tilar~ Tilar~," Syris called in tune. Trying to get Tilar's attention.
"My. My. Apologies for the inconvenience, but may I ask for you to repeat your request." Tilar hurriedly walked before the table.
Syris looked at Sephiroth and nods. Sephiroth replied with a smile and nod.
"C'mon, sit down! I'm hungry." Sephiroth urges Tilar to join them. He pushed out one of the empty chairs as a gesture for him to sit down with them.
"Preposterous! A servant shall not dine in the same table of their masters, nor shall a servant has the leisure to eat at the same time with their masters." Tilar heavily rebuked Sephiroth. Treating it as a dishonor to his service.
Sephiroth chuckled "No, silly!" He grabbed bread and offered it to him. "Syris said that you're his family, so sit down and come eat with us."
Seeing that five to eight seconds have passed and Tilar was standing there, not responding. He tapped his finger on the table to grab Sephiroth's attention.
"That, well. That usually happens." Syris weakly said. To which, Sepiroth replied with a confused face.
"As you can see, Tilar is an Elf." He pointed to his ears and raising it up and down. "Not just any Elf, Tilar is a Ziur Elf. Nomadic elves that live in Dekgop plains whose special abilities was to relive their memories in vivid detail. It was said that they acquired that ability long ago when their race was trying to survive in the plains against multiple predators." He sipped from the metal cup filled with fruit juice. "Relive. Not remember. If that did not emphasize that enough." He grabbed another slice bread and lathered an orange looking butter to it.
Syris pouted as it seems that Tilar is experiencing one of his episodes.
"Why do the fairies seem bad in the books," asked Sephiroth while he tried to taste the orange looking butter.
Syris paused. Thoughts ran through his head. Anything fairy related was at the other end of the hall where he found Sephiroth, so this question can be just a lucky guess.
"The fairies were-- Can you enlighten me again, did you say books?" Syris asked in delight.
"Yes," Sephiroth flatly replied.
Of course, Syris didn't believe it. He was sure he must have read a summarized perspective about them but reading many books about them and then suddenly clarifying a topic. This is downright insulting him. or luck
So he played with the boy's game and humored him. "Not that it was implied they were evil. It was implied they were not fair. Ahm, In all the past records. It was only this generation that the notion of a revision was to be made regarding the fairies." He took a bite out of the bread with butter and cured meat. "Biases and hostilities were rampant in the past. Only one fact was used throughout the whole argument. Anger towards the fairies." He took another sip from his drink. "It will be insulting our ancestors if we did not honor the fairies, at least in writing."
Sephiroth, in turn, nods in acknowledgment. Internally, however, He discussed with everyone and concluded that Syris avoided that question really quick.
Syris regretted it soon after as the atmosphere lulls down. The opportunity has presented itself and he wasted it. Now, the whole conversation has turned into him asking a trivial question and Sephiroth replying with: yes, no, nods, mumbles, and head shook. Making his face darkened as the awkwardness grew.
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*Grunts* [all these fairies, history, conflict, backstory blah blah blah] Chuni sprawled on the ground, complaining due to boredom. [Where's the magic? Where's the sweet-sweet over-powering plot clues? Where's the spotlight of bestowing groundbreaking knowledge to the masses? Where is my protagonist moment?!] spreading his arms and legs to try and make some dust angels.
In the distance, Leth moans about magic.
[heh- we might get those things~] Conny replied [If it weren't for someone who got too excited~ and made one heck of a mess] as he sat down on the floor, whistling.
[Maaaaaaaaagiiiccccc] Leth moans
On his chair, Specs reflexively turned his head at the noise and as he did, Conny's whistling grew louder. He hissed as he still felt the bruise of the left half of his face. He knew he deserved the consequences of his action, but he felt unfair as Monk really put some power in the slap he lashed out.
[Insufferable bigot] Specs whispered and gruntled.
[Pretty~ maaaagic] Leth mumbles
*Plop*
A loaf of bread wrapped in paper bounced down on the floor, besides it was a small block of butter, Orange butter. as it came down on the floor from the floating drop shute with a rectangular shape and a hook-like feature on the bottom end that every time the whole thing glowed for a few seconds, food will drop down and be ~lunched~ out of the shute relatively quickly
[Be at ease everyone, our sustenance has come] Monk, with his awesome voice, called out to everyone.
[uhhhhh~ foooood~ mmm- nooo! Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaagicccc~] Leth debated with himself
Antique was the first one to grab a loaf of bread and butter. Previously, as everyone was surprised at the first instant this showed up, which coincidently added more trouble for Specs, that they have no idea how it arrived there. They just knew it was there. After with the whole mess Specs' did with the boy's mind.
[Mmm. Come to think of it, what were you saying again about them "Wee Ol' people" of your time, Old man.] Conny asked Antique. Dipping a piece of bread into the block of butter. Laddering it left and right before taking a bite.
[Huu. It was back den, in my time. Where I was a wee lad. Fun times.] Antique took the block of butter and mushed it inside the bread. He took a huge bite out of it and was satisfied. [HAHA! Me mind gone all cloggy. They was the one with wings rayt? You all calling them fairies? If me noggin gives me right, they the darndestly unfunny ones that fly around annoyingle.] Antique with food on his mouth.
[Yeah. Probably so,] Conny replied
Antique wiped his face with his sleeves [If so, they might be' one we called the adopted flies. Bugger' fraks flying all 'round asking simple stuff. Ove' and over again.]
Conny was now interested. So he offered a piece of his bread laddered in the orange butter [Well, go on. Usually, this isn't the end of one of your stories] he chided in.
Antique rubbed his jaw and spoke [Somethin' "Er" then, Me think it was "hiyolk" and lasty bit "iop"]
Conny scratched his head and was about to ask Antique what he prattling about but Specs butted in.
[Hierioulkop] Specs stared at the holoboard.
[Oyyy! That one lad!] Antique happily praised him.
Again, Conny was confused with the baby babble. He figured he needs to annoy Specs for a bit to let him on what it meant.
Luckily, he doesn't need to. As he turned his head to the side, he saw Specs walking to him at a fast pace and flick a holoboard. Since the holoboard is holographic and things can pass through it except for the user. A slap come through moments later and Conny's face reddened as Specs sucker slapped him. Surprisingly, he was both amazed and fuming for what happened.
[Sir Antique,] Specs stands before Antique. "May I inquire about your attention?"
Antique happily replied with a nod.
Specs did not waste time and handed him a holoboard with 2 iterations of the words "Hierioulkop" The first one was the modern Ryt Alphabet and the second one was the purest Ryt alphabet he can construct. To which, Antique just pointed to the second one and nonchalantly replied.
[First Adopted Child]
Specs' face showed a surprised expression.
[So you do know them!]
REFLEXIONES DE LOS CREADORES 
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or Carbonated drink mixed with whiskey?
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