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 Posted: Thu Jun 12, 2014 11:48 am
Yitzah watched Dyakida work from her perch a few feet away from Dyakida's workbench. It was fascinating.
Wood and stone and crystal became more than baubles found in the woods, to be taken home or thrown away. They became weapons, deadly and piercing and powerful. They became beautiful.
Yitzah thought so, anyway. She wondered what Dyakida thought about what she made, if they were beautiful to her. She couldn't see how gloriously the crystals shimmered, with their sharp edges so perfectly carved, or how the engravings that she made in wood and crystal seemed to glow with their own light.
Yitzah liked everything about Dyakida's work. She liked to watch it and touch it and carry it around and pretend it was hers. She liked to imagine the person it was for, and guess who they were from their weapon. She was often wrong, but it was still fun.
She chewed on a piece of fruit, not wanting to get anything more for lunch, so intent was she on Dyakida's newest project.
Who was it for? What was she making? she wanted to ask. But, as usual, her voice did not want to come. And that was fine. She didn't want it to.
So, she watched...
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Posted: Wed Jun 18, 2014 5:31 am
Dyakida knew Yitzah was there. Yitzah had been there ever since Dyakida had returned from Neued, latching to her heels like a silent, ever-present shadow.
Dyakida had a very distinct set of tasks for the day: finish up things for her family. She had many commissions now from her tribe, and she was busy, which was just how she liked it. She loved the movement of her hands and the way she could create something, and be appreciated for it.
The commissions ate into her time with her sisters, however, and they also needed weapons. Most of the sisters she lived with, though, were polite enough to not add to her workload intentionally.
Which was why she didn't wait for them to ask. She'd already started weapons for various Alkidikes of her tree, and worked on them in spare moments. But today she had set aside for them alone.
The question now was which or, perhaps more accurately, whose. She reached out to her pile of weapons-in-progress, feeling the identifying tags she had placed on them and drawing out one of them - the beginnings of a bow, etched with the beginnings of floral and vine engravings.
Ilyra, then
Who would soon become a blade, if the rumors Dyakida was hearing were correct. "Yitzah, please pass me my red paste." she said. The girl was useful, moreso in some ways than Peyla (though Peyla was forever irreplacable)
Red for Ilyra and the blood that, apparently, shone through her pale skin and eyes. Dyakida, of course, would not know.
Peyla wished that the little girl would go away sometimes. Not all the time, but sometimes. She chimed in annoyanc: Getting things was HER job. Her job and her job alone! She hovered by Yitzah, chiming angrily, daring her to get the red paste.
It was HER job.
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Posted: Thu Jun 26, 2014 7:10 am
Yitzah perked up at her name and, setting the fruit down, scrambled over to Dyakida's material stores, looking through all the jars and cups and bunches until she found the red paste. She sniffed at it, wrinkling her nose.
It smelled of bug and wood and rotten fruit, all mixed together into something indescribably strange. She brought the red paste back, hesitating at Peyla's look.
She knew Peyla wasn't happy, but Peyla had other jobs. Peyla couldn't do those jobs angry.
Silently, she picked up her fruit. It was soft and squishy and would be very sweet if she bit into it. She thought for a moment, then offered it to Peyla.
Truce?
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Posted: Tue Aug 05, 2014 2:24 pm
Peyla was suspicious of the offered fruit, but greed soon won out. The sprite took the fruit and began to eat it.
Yes.
Truce.
Dyakida began to finish the carvings, feeling out their intricacies and patterns. ”Yitzah?” she asked, ”Have you thought about your weapon yet?”
Silence.
Dyakida didn't know what else she was expecting – the child hadn't spoken in a very long time. ”If I ever had had the oppurtunity to be a Blade...” she continued, filling the silence as her hands worked, ”Well.” she chuckled, ”Lets have you guess. What sort of weapon do you think I would use, Yitzah?”
Silence.
”Just bring over whatever weapon you think would be appropriate for me” she said, ”And hold it out so I can feel it and know what you chose. Take your time, girl... It's not so easy.” she chuckled. She did wish the girl would talk, but she knew what Yitzah had been through, so she wasn't going to rush her. ”Unfortunately, I never got to use a weapon. Sight is important in a fight and without it...” she shrugged, reaching for the smoothing paper to dull the splintery edge of one of her reliefs, ”Well. I am a danger to myself and others in battle. That is why I do this. It is my job – or a part of it – to know how to match sisters with weapons...” She continued her carving, thoughtful, ”So. What sort of Alkidike am I, or would I have been, Yitzah? That is what I am asking you.”
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Posted: Wed Aug 06, 2014 6:23 am
Had Yitzah thought about her weapon? Yitzah thought that was a strange question. She raised an eyebrow, giving Dyakida a milder version of her trademark impetuous glower which, of course, the Artisan couldn't see.
In the silence that followed, Yitzah could feel her voice trying to find words and bubble free, but nothing came out. Nothing at all. Like all other times, nothing came out.
This time, though, she had nothing to say but 'no'. She hadn't thought about her weapon. One day, she'd have one, but now? She had Dyakida and she meant safety. She didn't need weapons.
Then Dyakida broke the silence, and Yitzah listened, surprised, as Dyakida began to talk about herself. The Artisan rarely talked of herself. Sometimes, of others, usually those whose weapons she was making at the time.
That Dyakida had been something before, that there was ever a time when the Artisan had been sighted, and – even – that Dyakida had had a before at all, a before that did not include Yitzah anywhere in it, was baffling to the youngling. She stared, trying to imagine Dyakida as a youngling too, but she could not. Disturbed, Yitzah played with her short hair, giving Dyakida an incredulous look. There was no way that Dyakida could have been a blade.
Except, Dyakida kept asking, and Yitzah felt as though this was turning into a command: find the weapon that Dyakida would have used. And she began to, in the silence and then subsequent speech, feel that she needed to do it, otherwise Dyakida would be unhappy. She shrugged at Peyla and went over to the pile of weapons, staring at them.
She had no idea. She couldn't imagine Dyakida with any of them. Dagger, maybe, but she already had one at her leg – it was very sharp and Yitzah was not allowed to play with it. But any of these bows, spears, and swords? No. Yitzah crouched before the pile, grimacing. This was hard!
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Posted: Thu Aug 07, 2014 1:59 pm
Moments passed with no sound or touch from Yitzah, but Dyakida wasn't worried. She had, after all, given Yitzah a difficult task.
”I bet you can't guess.” said Dyakida, smirking as she carved a long, looping branch design along the length of the bow, careful to not cause cracks or flaws that would ruin it, ”I'm very difficult to read.”
She began to smooth the edges of the carvings with a piece of rough bark. ”Actually, you are going to be the only person to know what I would have chosen. When Briella and Maya knew me, I was still using a training quarterstaff. Its a multi-purpose weapon, you see, for someone who wants to try the other weapons but doesn't want to carry them all with her everywhere...” She felt along the bow to make sure she had gotten everything she had wanted to carve onto it. ”And I was... The accident happened before I had declared a weapon. I didn't even know what I would choose.” satisfied she brought out the bottle of dye and began to pour it on the weapon – she needed a lot because it had to seep into the wood before she wiped it away, and she had no way of knowing if she had put too little or much on anyway – that was a very visual thing, alas.
”But I do now.” she commented, as she set the wood aside to take on the color and selected a suitable bowstring. ”So? Any guesses?”
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Posted: Thu Aug 14, 2014 10:46 am
The artisan bet that Yitzah couldn't guess?! Yitzah took it as a challenge and focused on the weapons as hard as she could, trying to imagine, again, Dyakida wielding any of them. It was too difficult, though. No matter how hard she tried, she just could not figure out what the artisan would have used.
She looked over at Dyakida, watching as the artisan set aside the new bow – very brightly red now and sticky with dye. She felt somewhat honored that she was going to know something that the grown ups did not. Something special, like Dyakida...
Special...
Well, she had a one in three chance of getting it right if she brought something random over, but it was now one in two – which was much better – because Dyakida WAS special. She was different. She was out of the ordinary.
And for an alkidike, even Yitzah knew that spears were 'ordinary' and 'traditional'. So, it was either the dual blades or the bow. Yitzah herself liked the bow – the better for sticking things with from afar, where they couldn't hurt you or, rather, before they could hurt you – and she wanted to think that she had something in common with the special, miraculous, safe Dyakida.
She picked up the bow and trotted over, patting the artisan's arm and guiding her free hand to it.
Was this it?
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Posted: Thu Aug 14, 2014 11:50 am
At the tap at her arm, Dyakida set aside the bowstring and groped for whatever she was being guided to, her sensitive hands closing on circular, smooth wood. She took it from Yitzahs grasp carefully, to give the girl time to let go, and ran her hands over it. It was unstrung and thus mostly un curved, but she recognized the smooth double-endedness of it, and the way that the strengthening resin cracked and stretched and flowed.
”A bow.” she declared, fondling it thoughtfully, ”Mmmm... an interesting choice.” she hesitated, ”Why did you choose it, might I ask...” she shook her head, ”nevermind.” she said hastily. Of course Yitzah would not respond. There was no reason for her to do so. ”It was foolish of me to ask.”
She stroked her hand down the length of it before handing it back towards Yitzah. ”You are correct.” she said finally, ”My weapon would have been the bow. I used a spear on occasion but I am... more suited... to a life of being at the back of the line, able to see everything and move my sisters where they are needed...” she sighed, ”Except now I can see nothing.” She began working on carving a sword hilt – just a basic one, to be embellished later. It was something to do while she waited for the dye on Ilyra's bow to set.
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Posted: Fri Aug 15, 2014 6:51 am
Yitzah was glad that she had an excuse not to explain herself: She wasn't sure she could, other than that it was a guess, a lucky one at that. Not talking was frustrating sometimes because she wanted to talk and say things, and she was afraid to, and she did not like being afraid. But it was also handy in situations like this.
She watched as Dyakida handled the bow, listening thoughtfully to her explanation. What did she mean, move sisters around where they are needed? Did the back of the line mean she was a coward? Or did it just mean... what?
Yitzah did not think so, but she didn't know what Dyakida meant. This was one of those times when not speaking was especially frustrating. She wanted to ask what she meant, what all the weapons meant to people, what her weapon was... was it the bow? She wasn't sure.
But she could not ask. She made a high pitched sound and kicked at a leg of Dyakida's worktable.
She could not ask.
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Posted: Thu Sep 04, 2014 8:45 pm
Dyakida frowned at the girl's odd sound. ”Yitzah?” she felt for her, ”Are you all right?”
The girl's hand flinched under her hand and she moved it away. ”Yitzah?” she hesitated until a tap at her shoulder reassured her. ”Yes. Well. That is why.” she said hurriedly, trying to quash her worry.
”In the end, a weapon is something personal...” she tapped Ilyra's bow, ”Ilyra, too, likes to keep others at a distance, though she is not as...” Dyakida chuckled, ”Well, shall we say that my sister's daughter is not like me at all? She is not.” she left it to dry a while longer.
While we each would be bow users, we approach the bow differently. It makes my job very difficult, some times. A bow for me would not be, you see, the ideal bow for her. She wants damage, I want... would have wanted... precision, an assurance that the arrow would find where I marked it.” she set the hilt aside, ”When I make you your bow, what would you want, my dear? Strength? Precision? A balance? Or something else entirely?”
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Posted: Tue Sep 23, 2014 7:59 am
Yitzah put her hand on the artisan's shoulder to reassure her that she was still here and was still listening. Yes. The Artisan would be more precise. That suited Dyakida, and made sense in a way that the little girl could understand.
She watched the red dry on Ilyra's bow: Ilyra was more like Yitzah, full of fire and vibrant – they got along, or would, if Yitzah would only manage to tell her so. She reached out to touch the bow, wondering if it would come off on her hands, when Dyakida said something about her bow.
Her bow.
Yitzah's bow.
Yitah stared at her, open mouthed in awe. How did she know that Yitzah wanted a bow?! Dyakida was magic. She had to be magic.
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Posted: Tue Sep 23, 2014 9:23 am
It was so difficult to tell what the girl was thinking or feeling. Dyakida could hear only Yitzah's silent breathing, and could feel the warmth of her presence and that was it. She wished the girl would speak.
”Yes.” she said, breaking the awkward silence, ”A bow for you. The twin blades would be too limiting, as would the spear. You like motion and mobility, and you don't like to wait...” or at least she thought so. It was difficult to make observations without sight or sound. ”A bow allows you to move wherever you will, and can strike at an enemy long before a spear or sword wielder could...” she smiled, ”Perfect for the impatient, as well as the precise...” She began to clean Ilyra's bow, taking off the crust around it. ”Ah well. One day, you will tell me...” she shrugged, ”For now... Is this red, Yitzah?” she held out a hand, ”Two for yes, one for no.” she offered, their usual tapping cipher.
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Posted: Sat Oct 11, 2014 3:04 pm
Yitzah looked and decided that it was red... well, red enough. To Yitzah, it was more orange or a sort of purple than anything, with maybe some red in it, but it was close enough for Yitzah. She tapped Dyakida's hand twice.
The artisan was so smart. Every word she said resonated with the little Alkidike. It was true, yes. She didn't like to stay still at all. Yitzah had to be in motion, always doing something.
Yes the more that Yitzah listened to the alkidike, the more sure she was that the bow was right for her. She'd want a bow that could crunch through the carapaces of those nasty creatures and show them that she was big and strong and able to take revenge.
And then she'd stand over them and scream at the heavens. Yitzah giggled at the thought: it was a satisfying one. She handed Dyakida the bowstring, tapping it lightly against her hand – it was about time to use it.
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Posted: Sat Oct 11, 2014 3:09 pm
Dyakida wondered at the giggle, as she did at all things that went through her assistant's mind. What was she doing? What was she thinking? Why was she thinking it? Dyakida had no reason to disbelieve her about the color, and so she took the bow in hand and was just reaching for the string when it was placed right in her hand.
She smiled. ”Thank you, Yitzah.” she said, beginning to string the bow, ”I'm sure that Ilyra will love it.”
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Posted: Sat Oct 11, 2014 3:09 pm
(A few weeks later)
Yitzah sat with Dyakida in the kitchen, watching the artisan manipulate the thin cloth threads she was using for decoration. It was fascinating to the girl to watch as boring thread became, as if by magic, beauty in the Artisan's hands.
In her hands, it was a mess. She looked down at the mass of soft purple and green and blue threads and wished she could make them do what she wanted. She was, after all, supposed to be helping with the thread, and she couldn't do that if she... couldn't do it.
She tapped Dyakida's hand and passed over the threads. Maybe she could help her figure it out...
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