One Plus One is Three

[Malcolm]

30 Cylus 717

Even with little sleep the man had been up at the crack of dawn to prepare breakfast and see to some of the chores he hadn't quite managed to get to due to the assignments that had kept him away this season. With the fences outside fixed and the gutters mucked out, Malcolm had cleaned up and prepared for the history lesson he had promised one of his students, but failed so far to deliver. Instead of making the trip to the city, he had invited Violet to his home, and expected her to arrive within the next half break or so.
The living room table had been taken over, opened books and unraveled scrolls left about the place. Malcolm had swept the floor and started a fire, put water on to boil for tea, and prepared a soup to share with his family later in the evening. The smell of lentils, stock, and winter vegetables wafted through the small cottage, and a bunch of dried wildflowers were left hung above the entryway. Thankful Violet had agreed to make the long trip by horse to the farmstead, Malcolm had even toasted some bread and whipped some fresh butter for the woman to snack on, should she choose.
With little else to prepare, Malcolm topped up the inkwell and flicked through one of the books containing most of the syllabus his class had gone over in the previous year. He had covered a portion of it already with Violet, but there were many options as to what she might want to go over next. They had discussed the labyrinth, one of his favourite topics, and gone over most of them common points of history. Perhaps if he were to make a suggestion, he thought, they could talk about the sacred seven or one of the old kings, maybe even a famous landmark, yes, that would be a pleasant change.
The house was too quiet with Elyna and Elsie gone, and Malcolm was thankful to hear the dog bark as his visitor arrived.

[Violet]

It had been no secret that Violet had been actively trying to insert herself into situations where she would cross paths with Malcolm. She had gone with his unit during a battle on the campaign in the Zi’da snow and had, since the conclusion of the conflict, made herself a constant presence in his classroom and, more subtly, around the barracks with the rest of the Iron Hand. She wasn’t trying to be a nuisance or a shadow. She simply enjoyed his company and was making attempts to forward their relationship. This was why she was more than pleased to be notified that their private lessons would be starting.

She had asked quite some time ago, the time when they had first met, about private lessons. Violet had all but given up on that venture, but, just as promised, at the conclusion of the war, the professor was ready to give his private tutoring. She had agreed to make the journey to his home out of convenience for him, respecting that he had a more established life than she did, but also some secret desire to add intimacy to the situation. Things seemed more thrilling with the prospect of being alone with him somewhere.

Violet had chosen her black breeches that clung to her like a second skin with a loose and billowy crimson blouse. A black fur-lined cloak rested around her neck with a silver clasp, and worn black leather knee boots kept her feet warm. She borrowed a horse from the barracks stable, not caring if she was really allowed to or not. With the conflict over, there was plenty of equines left stabled and this old mare looked like she could use some decent exercise.

After saddling up the horse, she took the long trip down the main road towards Malcolm’s homestead. As she came into view of the house, a dog’s bark echoed in the still morning air. It rung in her ears as she drew closer to the abode and saw the scruffy animal come loping towards her. The mare kept steady and stopped when she pulled up the reins. She found an empty spot to keep her temporary mount.

Violet passed the threshold with the dog on her heels, its tail wagging. When greeted with the warmth of the house, she unclasped the cloak around her neck and found a chair to drape it over. “Morning, Professor.” She smiled. “What is on the ledger for today’s lesson?” She glanced at the full table, catching familiar words here and there. “I would be interested in more information on Scorn, if I get any say that is.” The corners of her lips twitched as a smirk danced across her face.

[Elyna]

Elyna had planned to visit the city, even prior to the disagreements she’d had with Malcolm the night before. The noblewoman had woken early with his arm wrapped around her middle and pale light seeping through the window. Getting Elsie dressed and ready to leave the house had become a practised military mission, though the child caused havoc if someone didn’t keep an eye on her, at all times. Able to stand and reach higher things, she’d started exploring the world with a voracity that Elyna found exhausting. Still, the pair managed to leave the house on the hill in good time.

Elsie was bundled up against the elements and held in a sling against her Mother’s chest. Tucked safely in she looked up at the grey sky as Elyna mounted up on Ember and led the horse down towards the main road. She wore a shirt beneath a woollen tunic and a leather jacket. Her trousers were warm and tucked into her favourite boots. To keep out the slightest hint of Cylus chill, she’d pulled her Burhan cloak over her shoulders and fastened it. It fanned out on Embers back, but more helpful was the way that the front could wrap around Elsie and keep the baby warm. They trotted until they were out of sight of the house and Malcolm’s worried gaze, before Elyna nudged Ember into a canter and felt the wind rush through her hair. They passed another lone rider on the road and the Skyrider couldn’t help but feel the blonde woman was familiar, but couldn’t place her. The walls of Andaris beckoned and Elyna bent low as Ember raced over the hard-packed dirt and Elsie squealed with excitement.

[Malcolm]

Violet’s entrance was met with a warm smile. It had been some time since the end of the campaign, and Malcolm remained grateful for the woman's continued support during his search for the leaders of the rebel faction. Of course they had come up short in their pursuit, and there had been no sign of either of his sons, but it pleased him to know he had the backing of at least one of the other noble families.
The lesson begun much as they always did, with a suggestion and further probing. “Facts or a story?” Malcolm had smiled, his lessons tended towards storytelling rather than loading students up with facts, but he was good at both styles of teaching.
Before they began, the knight crossed the room to pour them each a cup of tea, and returned to sit on the edge of the table, as he often did in class. His attire was rather casual, dressed in a plain black, long sleeve tunic that had been tucked into a pair of worn leather pants. He was wearing socks, but had otherwise chosen to keep his boots off inside, which wasn't to suggest he expected the same of his guest.
Malcolm offered Violet a pen from the inkwell, and gestured to the blank pages set out in the table, alluding to the option that she was free to take notes if she wished to. “I feel I've told the story so many times that every man, woman and child must know the tale by now.” The warden looked thoughtful for a time. “In which case I’ll begin with the common knowledges. Scorn is the son of Rynmere, who was one of the original pets of their immortals. When Rynmere fell from the sky and formed the land, her nest was destroyed, and her young were left to fend for themselves. There are many theories, and while most like to believe that two of her young were crushed during as a result of her fall, and I am often forced to preach this in lessons paid for by the crown, old scripture and drawings supports the belief that all three still exist. Scörn, the dragon of earth, breaths a strange mist that turns anything it touches to stone. Ësträn, which in Dräkëth literally means ‘of the shore, was the dragon of water, and Hërjä, to roam, was to be the dragon of the sky.”
Malcolm paused and took a sip of the tea while Violet scribbled something down on the paper. “When Verne first discovered the dragons, he had followed a red line of light called the scar in the sky. Most believe that when Rynmere fell from the sky, Hërjä, who already knew how to fly, flew into the scar, and Ësträn dove into the sea. Scörn, who could not fly or swim at this stage, was trapped on Rynmere, hiding in the mountains until he was big enough to resurface. The journal of Warrick reads that before Scörn fled to the mountains, he taught the Sacred Seven how to speak Dräkëth, which as you know, is a dying language too few of our Knights ever learn to speak, and it is a language only the Knights of Rynmere are permitted to learn.” Malcolm got to his feet and went to a nearby bookshelf to collect one of his old journals.
Upon his return he set the leather bound journal down and opened it to the second chapter. His printing was very small and neat. “Some arcs ago I was lucky enough to read the remaining pages of Warrick’s journal, and what I remembered, I wrote in here,” he pointed, all of the words written in Draketh. He didn't admit that he had read the journal over a hundred years ago, that part didn't seem important somehow.

[Violet]

Since they had gotten better acquainted with one another and spent more time together, whether through means of the classroom or the barracks, it was customary for Malcolm to greet her less formally than he might his other students. Violet returned his warm smile, her cheeks flushed from the cold wind stinging at her cheeks from the ride to his home. The warmth of the house was a pleasant reprieve to her skin. Cylus was so harsh in its chill. With her cloak draped across the chair, she took a seat.

Fact or story was how Malcolm commonly addressed any student inquiries. There was never a shortage of either and most students enjoyed hearing the dramatic stories over the simple- and sometimes less theatrical- list of facts. “What about both?” She quipped, a smile tugging at her lips. “I would love the story, I’m certain, but I think in scholarly pursuits I have a duty to indulge myself in the facts, as well.” Violet chuckled beneath her breath as she watched Malcolm’s figure with interest as he poured them both a cup of piping hot tea. He was never rough to look at, even if he was overworked and got less than adequate sleep.

She accepted the cup of tea and took a long sip, the warmth filling up her mouth and running down her throat, seeming to thaw her body from the inside out. For a moment her gaze flicked to his feet and noticed he was wearing only socks. She shucked off her worn leather boots and left her feet to stretch out, kept warm by thick woolen socks.

Violet took the pen, ink, and blank parchment and slid it in front of her as he began the story of Scorn. As she listened, she scribbled down bits and pieces of pertinent information that would be worth remembering. She was surprised to learn that Scorn was not the only fledgling of Rynmere and that Malcolm believed, despite the consensus of the general public, that the others were alive and well. “If they are alive, why do they hide away? Surely they are massive and powerful beasts. They could rule all of Idalos if they wanted.” She was genuinely curious. Most people or beasts of significant power would try to take it.

Being a Warrick daughter, Violet had heard of the journal he spoke of but had never known anyone who had actually seen the text. She wasn’t even sure her father had seen it. He handed over a leather journal written in the Draketh language she was far from fluent in. It was Malcolm’s writing, apparently notes from when he had seen the Warrick journal. For a brief moment Violet wondered why Malcolm had seen the journal. “I don’t… can you tell me what this means? I’d love to learn Draketh.”

[Malcolm]

Malcolm couldn't help but ramble when he had keen students, and the fact that the university paid him to supply one on one lessons during Cylus didn't hurt either. The more students he could guarantee for the university come Ashan, the longer he would be in a job. Since the war, finding new work wasn't easy unless one’s key skills included building or farming, two things the city desperately needed.
Violet looked at him with a curiosity he found intriguing. “The truth is, no one knows,” he told her, “and this is why the history books only speak of Scorn.” Malcolm seemed deflated by the admission, “unless you have seen something with your own eyes or it comes from a reliable source, it's hard to prove anything, and there is very little evidence to suggest the other two exist, unless you believe the words in the Huntsman's journal.”
The conversation had once again come full circle, and Malcolm's eye was turned on his own notebook. “Most of it is very tricky to understand, they spoke true Draketh back then, before it had a written language, the universal language of dragons. Today,” he paused, “well squires are more interested in learning the sword, and half of our knights are illiterate. They can't read a book in common let alone Serpent Tongue.”
Violet had suggested Malcolm read the words he had copied from Ser Warrick’s journal, but the old tales would do her little good in today's world and the exams she would be faced with come next season.
Malcolm took the piece of paper Violet had been writing on and dipped the ink pen into the well. “Perhaps I should teach you something that will be of more use in the near future.”
He wrote out a single character in black ink, something similar to the symbols that could be found all over old temples in Rynmere, and the original homeland of the sacred seven, across the sea. He shared the symbol’s meaning in Draketh and printed another beside it.
“Alone they mean little. You always start with the emotion.” Malcolm smiled, even if he had expected the woman to look a little puzzled by it all. “Dragons, as you know, can be very temperamental, so the first word always sets the tone of the conversation. Follow this with the subject and then the description.”
The warden put down a third and final symbol. “Calm, home, air,” he pointed to each. Dragons say a lot with very little.” He spoke the sentence in Draketh, and repeated it in common again. “I'm calm and want to go home by air. Basically you're asking the Dragon to take you home and telling him it will be an easy task. There are no conjunctions in Draketh, but this is the best way I can explain it. Now if you had used this word,” Malcolm drew a new symbol, “anger… it changes the whole meaning. Draketh is a spoken language the sacred seven tried to assign symbols, and while dragons are very intelligent creatures, only one of them can interpret what these letters mean.” He didn't suppose he needed to tell her which.

[Violet]

Violet found it bizarre that no scholar had even postulated what might have become of the other two dragons. Dragons were big creatures and ancient and intelligent. It seemed like a complete lack of accounting for two of them was almost asinine. How would they know if one of them decided one day that they had enough of mortals ruling their land and swooped in on large wings with ferocious and ancient fury and burned the world until all of Idalos bowed to them? It was akin to losing track of an entire army. She had to wonder why no one else was as concerned by this as she was. Perhaps it was because it was such common belief that they never existed at all. They couldn't be a threat if they weren't real. But this journal seemed to be of the opinion that they were. "Why does no one believe the Huntsman? Why do so many think they don't exist? Do they think he was mad? Lying?" As she peered down at the words, she realized she would very much like to learn this language.

Violet spent enough time at the barracks training and studying that she knew what Malcolm said to be true. Draketh was not something common there, in fact this may have been the first time she had seen it, and knew that a disturbing amount of knights couldn't even read common. Violet felt it was a shame to have illiterate knights but obviously whoever ran the legions did not agree. She was an exception to this, of course, having always pursued her educational desires in tandem with her combat goals.

Violet inclined her head in curiosity as he gave her a short lesson on Draketh symbols. A seemingly dead language would probably never really be useful in most capacities but it did not crush her desire for wanting to know it. She wanted to intimately know just as many educational topics as she did blades and armor. The structure was quite different than common and much simpler. Whereas you could turn common into epics of poetry with long flowing sentences, Draketh was very straightforward and short, cutting out words that were not essential to the meaning of what they need to convey. She traced a fingertip across the now dry ink, committing the symbols to memory along with their meaning. "So in Draketh if I wanted to say that I would like to go to the mountain quickly by air I would simply use: quick, mountain, and air?" She hoped she had understood correctly.

"I am surprised more people don't study this. While, yes, I could see why people would think it is pointless, it had an air of fascination to it. I thought it would attract more scholars. I certainly find it interesting, a language that has rolled off the tongue of ancient beings." Her fingers drummed idly against the parchment. "Do you think this is something we could work into our lessons? I'm sure I could come up with extra coin too." She smiled at him, though her eyes never left the Draketh symbols scrawled out in front of her.

A break or two passed by and Violet felt like her brain was a sponge full of water struggling to absorb all the information that Malcolm had poured in. She had a few pages of notes that she had written along with some Draketh symbols. While she wanted to tarry longer, she knew that Malcolm had other duties to attend to besides their lessons and rudely taking up all his time was far from the best strategy to win him over. The chair scraped against the floor as she pushed back from the table and stood. She purposefully brushed against his body as she grabbed her dark cloak and wrapped it around her shoulder to prepare for the chill outside. "Wonderful lesson as always, Professor. Perhaps I will see you around the barracks later?" With notes in hand, she bid him farewell and found her borrowed horse waiting outside.

[Malcolm]

“I couldn't tell you,” Malcolm shrugged, though he had tried. Why believe in stories without cold, hard facts? Seeing was believing, and while it was easy to say there had always been three dragons, proving it was another matter.
“You're a Warrick,” he recalled, “descendant of The Hunter. I'm sure your father has told you many crazy, and sometimes outlandish stories about the man and the region. I bet even you consider some of them no more than bedtime tales made to frighten children?”
Perhaps Malcolm had been a bit harsh, he thought, while there were many knights who couldn't write Draketh, there were many that knew how to speak it. “Quick would have two meanings if you started with it in Draketh.” Malcolm smiled. “We can work the basics into our lessons and go from there.”
As Violet got to her feet, he followed the woman. “You know, even though there are those who can't read or write, Knights are generally considered to be rather intelligent, not always in the art of language mind you, but I wouldn't underestimate them. Ever met a knight who couldn't count?” he laughed.
The warden followed the woman out of the house and into the yard. “It's always a pleasure,” he agreed with a nod, “I'll see you next season in one of my classes I'm sure.”

[Chronicle]

Name: Malcolm

Knowledge:

• Teaching: Providing Personal Lectures
• Linguistics: Feeling the Words
• Linguistics: Communicating with Emotions
• Linguistics: Draketh Uses Few Words
• Linguistics: Draketh Language (Dragon Tongue)

Loot: N/A
Injuries: N/A
Fame: +5 (3 for the private lessons, 2 for showing the journal)
Magic: These points cannot be used for magic.

Story: 5/5
Collaboration: 5/5
Structure: 5/5

Comment: No complaints here! You did great with the content as well as structure, naturally, and did wonderful highlighting the aspect of the language.


Name: Violet

Knowledge:

• Linguistics: Feeling the Words
• Linguistics: Communicating with Emotions
• Linguistics: Draketh Uses Few Words
• Linguistics: Draketh Language (Dragon Tongue)

Loot: N/A
Injuries: N/A
Fame: N/A
Magic: These points cannot be used for magic.

Story: 5/5
Collaboration: 5/5
Structure: 5/5

Comment: I like Violet secretly fangirling over Mal in the beginning, it hints at potential for plot the further this thread continues! Honestly you did great as your partners here, solid structure and good paragraphing as well. I didn't really see any personal lore for Violet that could be useful, so if you feel I could've highlighted something in regards to that aspect; then please do nudge me via pm!


Name: Elyna

Knowledge:
N/A

Loot: N/A
Injuries: N/A
Fame: N/A
Magic: N/A

Story: 1/5
Collaboration: 1/5
Structure: 2/5

Comment: Sorry I couldn't give much of anything, but I did enjoy your cameo post within the thread.


Good work you three! Sorry it took me a bit to wrap up the review, I had to mull it over with the lore before I finalized the review. If there's anything I might've missed or a suggestion on what else you'd like to see in this grade, feel free to bump me with a pm at your leisure! Cheers!