25 Vhalar 718
The workmen had finally arrived to install the new bread oven that Ky had ordered which, while good in its way, meant that there was nowhere quiet for her to sit and equally nowhere to cook or even brew a hot drink. As a result she showed them where and what she wanted and then took herself out to find somewhere quieter and more pleasant. The library would have been quiet, and reading was always pleasant, but it didn't have tea or food available. She headed instead for the Scholar's Nook, picking her way through the turtles that had replaced the red rain.
Some were small, some were large, but all of them were obstacles that slowed her down. Judging by the amount of muttering, she wasn't the only one slowed down. Ky glanced across the turtle backs, looking for the easiest route through, and frowned at an odd sight. One of the largest turtles appeared to have been painted. Some supposedly pretty scene with apples and uncannily clean farmers by the looks of it. Was that what people here liked to look at? Personally Ky would rather have had a forest scene to remind her of home, or a gentle seascape. She scooted past the turtle without looking any closer, and edged her way onward to the Nook.
Once there, she bought herself a mug of tea and tucked herself away in the first empty corner she came to. There were shelves there, and she took a sip of tea and carefully lifted down the nearest book. It turned out to be a history of Scalvoris, and Ky smiled and settled in to find out just how much she didn't know about the island she had been born on.
The first records of Scalvoris were about five hundred arcs old, it seemed, and didn't think much of it. Too rough and inhospitable for the scholarly taste, apparently. It took another hundred and fifty arcs before the first village formed - at Darbyton. Ky smiled to herself, proud of her home village for sticking around that long. They were supplemented by survivors from shipwrecks, with a particularly big one coming only a half dozen or so arcs after Darbyton's founding. The settlement had had to focus on self-sufficient survival from the start as the weather was harsh, and the seas too rough to allow anyone to set up supply routes to support the village from outside. Nothing got through, not by land, not by sea, not even by air. It was a reminder of how vital the logistics of supply really were to survival.
People came to and for Immortal's Tongue too, for almost as long as Scalvoris had been known. Well, there was one pause in that after a bunch of strange swirling lights drove everyone there to kill themselves. The lights had stayed around for a decade, arriving and departing on the 1st Vhalar. That was a date that showed up a lot of times. Everything seemed to happen on the 1st Vhalar.
Ky sipped her cooling tea, savouring the tang of lemon on her tongue, and wondered if strange things were actually that precise or whether they just got recorded as that date because "everyone knows" that that was when strange things happen.
She turned a page and came to a table listing when all the towns and villages were founded. Darbyton was the first, as she had already read, and for a century it was the only settlement. Then five ships were wrecked at once and the survivors founded what would become Scalvoris Town. Gunvorton came along about thirty arcs after that, and then there was another, even longer gap before Almund was founded a measly 200 arcs ago.
Moving on, she read the tale of a storm that lasted for a hundred trials. That was interesting, but she was more absorbed by the one where Darbyton was devasted by creatures attacking at night. She bit her lip silently as she read on about familiar places, trying to piece together what had happened where. It didn't read as if the writer had known Darbyton at all, but was reciting what they had been told. Darbyton was tough though. It had refused to give up and reformed and rebuilt, but it was a scar on its history that Ky hadn't been aware of until now, and didn't think she could ever forget.
Still, she was here, and Darbyton was still here, so they had won out against nature in the end. That seemed to be a pattern here. The towns grew. Then there was a set back, maybe weather, maybe animals, maybe people. It pushed back against the growth, even wiped out a lot of it, but the towns rallied, refocused, and reforged themselves once more into something that could grow. It reminded her of something, but for a moment she couldn't place what it was. She shook her head. It would come back to her, in time, she was sure.
The last event detailed in the book was the arrival of the Pirate Lords. They had arrived on the 1st of Vhalar, like so many other events, in the Arc 616. They took control of all Scalvoris, the book claimed, and brought with them a century of isolation and silence. There were no events listed for the reign of the Pirate Lords, only the silence that they had brought.
Ky set the book down and leaned back in her corner, finishing her tea, and thinking about what she had read. She remember the end of the Pirate Lords herself. Fog had settled over the island - on the 1st of Vhalar, when else - and when it eventually lifted the Pirate Lords were gone too. She worked out the dates. It was a hundred arcs exactly. Like the storm that had lasted a hundred trials. And if the Pirate Lords had been the set back in the most recent cycle, that made this arc, this time right now, part of the rebirthing and reforging section of the cycle. Now was a time to make something new, to recreate what was old into a new form that could sustain future growth.
And with that, she recalled what she was reminded of by the cycles of Scalvoris life. It was like making bread. You mixed your ingredients and waited, and it grew bigger. Much bigger. They called it "proving" in the bakehouse. Then you knocked it back, kneaded it and stretched the dough to remove the big bubbles that would create holes in your final loaf. You shaped it and left it, and it grew again. And then you baked it, which put holes in the comparison as big as those in unkneaded bread. Ah well. Some day, she supposed that she would start coming up with metaphors that weren't baking related, but baking was what she knew best for now, and that was where her mind naturally went.
Ky slurped down the last mouthful of cold lemon tea, closed the book, and returned it to its place on the shelf. It was time to go home and see how her own oven was coming along, to bake her own bread in, rather than diving back into half-baked comparisons to history.
The workmen had finally arrived to install the new bread oven that Ky had ordered which, while good in its way, meant that there was nowhere quiet for her to sit and equally nowhere to cook or even brew a hot drink. As a result she showed them where and what she wanted and then took herself out to find somewhere quieter and more pleasant. The library would have been quiet, and reading was always pleasant, but it didn't have tea or food available. She headed instead for the Scholar's Nook, picking her way through the turtles that had replaced the red rain.
Some were small, some were large, but all of them were obstacles that slowed her down. Judging by the amount of muttering, she wasn't the only one slowed down. Ky glanced across the turtle backs, looking for the easiest route through, and frowned at an odd sight. One of the largest turtles appeared to have been painted. Some supposedly pretty scene with apples and uncannily clean farmers by the looks of it. Was that what people here liked to look at? Personally Ky would rather have had a forest scene to remind her of home, or a gentle seascape. She scooted past the turtle without looking any closer, and edged her way onward to the Nook.
Once there, she bought herself a mug of tea and tucked herself away in the first empty corner she came to. There were shelves there, and she took a sip of tea and carefully lifted down the nearest book. It turned out to be a history of Scalvoris, and Ky smiled and settled in to find out just how much she didn't know about the island she had been born on.
The first records of Scalvoris were about five hundred arcs old, it seemed, and didn't think much of it. Too rough and inhospitable for the scholarly taste, apparently. It took another hundred and fifty arcs before the first village formed - at Darbyton. Ky smiled to herself, proud of her home village for sticking around that long. They were supplemented by survivors from shipwrecks, with a particularly big one coming only a half dozen or so arcs after Darbyton's founding. The settlement had had to focus on self-sufficient survival from the start as the weather was harsh, and the seas too rough to allow anyone to set up supply routes to support the village from outside. Nothing got through, not by land, not by sea, not even by air. It was a reminder of how vital the logistics of supply really were to survival.
People came to and for Immortal's Tongue too, for almost as long as Scalvoris had been known. Well, there was one pause in that after a bunch of strange swirling lights drove everyone there to kill themselves. The lights had stayed around for a decade, arriving and departing on the 1st Vhalar. That was a date that showed up a lot of times. Everything seemed to happen on the 1st Vhalar.
Ky sipped her cooling tea, savouring the tang of lemon on her tongue, and wondered if strange things were actually that precise or whether they just got recorded as that date because "everyone knows" that that was when strange things happen.
She turned a page and came to a table listing when all the towns and villages were founded. Darbyton was the first, as she had already read, and for a century it was the only settlement. Then five ships were wrecked at once and the survivors founded what would become Scalvoris Town. Gunvorton came along about thirty arcs after that, and then there was another, even longer gap before Almund was founded a measly 200 arcs ago.
Moving on, she read the tale of a storm that lasted for a hundred trials. That was interesting, but she was more absorbed by the one where Darbyton was devasted by creatures attacking at night. She bit her lip silently as she read on about familiar places, trying to piece together what had happened where. It didn't read as if the writer had known Darbyton at all, but was reciting what they had been told. Darbyton was tough though. It had refused to give up and reformed and rebuilt, but it was a scar on its history that Ky hadn't been aware of until now, and didn't think she could ever forget.
Still, she was here, and Darbyton was still here, so they had won out against nature in the end. That seemed to be a pattern here. The towns grew. Then there was a set back, maybe weather, maybe animals, maybe people. It pushed back against the growth, even wiped out a lot of it, but the towns rallied, refocused, and reforged themselves once more into something that could grow. It reminded her of something, but for a moment she couldn't place what it was. She shook her head. It would come back to her, in time, she was sure.
The last event detailed in the book was the arrival of the Pirate Lords. They had arrived on the 1st of Vhalar, like so many other events, in the Arc 616. They took control of all Scalvoris, the book claimed, and brought with them a century of isolation and silence. There were no events listed for the reign of the Pirate Lords, only the silence that they had brought.
Ky set the book down and leaned back in her corner, finishing her tea, and thinking about what she had read. She remember the end of the Pirate Lords herself. Fog had settled over the island - on the 1st of Vhalar, when else - and when it eventually lifted the Pirate Lords were gone too. She worked out the dates. It was a hundred arcs exactly. Like the storm that had lasted a hundred trials. And if the Pirate Lords had been the set back in the most recent cycle, that made this arc, this time right now, part of the rebirthing and reforging section of the cycle. Now was a time to make something new, to recreate what was old into a new form that could sustain future growth.
And with that, she recalled what she was reminded of by the cycles of Scalvoris life. It was like making bread. You mixed your ingredients and waited, and it grew bigger. Much bigger. They called it "proving" in the bakehouse. Then you knocked it back, kneaded it and stretched the dough to remove the big bubbles that would create holes in your final loaf. You shaped it and left it, and it grew again. And then you baked it, which put holes in the comparison as big as those in unkneaded bread. Ah well. Some day, she supposed that she would start coming up with metaphors that weren't baking related, but baking was what she knew best for now, and that was where her mind naturally went.
Ky slurped down the last mouthful of cold lemon tea, closed the book, and returned it to its place on the shelf. It was time to go home and see how her own oven was coming along, to bake her own bread in, rather than diving back into half-baked comparisons to history.
Money
Brick oven 70 gn
Cup of Lemon tea 1 cn
Cup of Lemon tea 1 cn
