Whoever had stocked this home’s library was most definitely a surface level fetishist of Imperial society. A near even split between volumes of Tiancin and Ensolian language books, the multitude of shelves within this second story study filled in sets that seemed to defy basic logic.
How, at least from the Ensolian side, there was no fundamental concept of consistency of genre or volume; as if one had dug through the ruins of a bombed out library and subsequently crammed together the surviving pages into a disjointed mess that was the yearly average publication run of all Ensolian publishing houses.
Old academic journals from at least two dozen universities, directly translated ancient texts and their following analyses, a smattering of hundred year old cookbooks, and a very large collection of Imperial Church holy books all create a collection of knowledge that bordered on absolute worthlessness.
Sophia, over the course of the past two weeks, had in her desperation for entertainment become educated on topics ranging from early steel age ceramic development, possibly the driest ever recounting of the Goldmedaille Concord’s defeat by the Imperium, and even an introduction to Amorian cooking (of which, she hated pretty much every single ingredient listed in the book).
But those Tiancin volumes that sat on the nearby shelves, thick with pages and adorned with utterly beautiful covers of images of flying doves, roses, and isometric forms of personages, were practically begging this foreign princess to read them.
She had cracked a few open in her curiosity, only to be greeted by the pages upon pages of words she could never understand. It was geometric, alphabetical—the utter antithesis of the wondrous artistry that was the Ensolian characters.
In Ensolian, each word was a union created from smaller individual parts; with each small symbol containing its own individual meaning. If one wanted to write the word “boiling” it would simply be a combination of water and heavy fire; “hunting” was merely arrow and dead animal; while something complicated like “benevolence” would logically be the combination of the symbols for leadership, giving, beauty, love, and animal: a simple, effortless 16 strokes of the pen—truly, a language of efficiency.
Because of this; Ensolian was the greatest language ever created in the history of the world—according to one very bored Fourth Princess stranded in Port Azuru
Wonderful point of cultural pride. Her internal monologue informs Sophia calmly. However, we aren’t in Ensolia anymore. So uh, maybe you should take some time to appreciate your new home country’s linguistic base. You’re practically dying to read anything even remotely smutty now…
“Elodie.” The Fourth Princess asks the Priestess who was in this current moment of morning business, dusting out the eastern wing’s sitting room. “Could you teach me Tiancin?”
The woman of the cloth, still very much wearing her religious garb and completely unaware of Sophia’s presence, jumps up like a wound spring in complete shock. “HOLY SHIT!!!”
Two weeks into her unexpected part-time employment and still this Fourth Princess was scaring her. A presence that was nearly invisible to her already extraordinarily sharp base of perception, this inhuman form seemingly appearing behind her each time with supernaturally quiet footsteps. “You’re gonna give me a Goddess damned heart attack Ma’am! What’s this about Tiancin?!”
“I would like you to teach me how to read Tiancin.” She requests again, a slight bit of her bottomless pride tarnishing as she admits this illiteracy.
“Me?” Elodie gives a strange look, the long grimace stretching on her face. “Why me?”
“You have been living in the Dominion for quite some time.” Sophia informs her as she hides that desperation in her voice. “You must be qualified to teach, it is part of your duties as a woman of the Goddess is it not?”
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
That “Priestess” gives a slightly exasperated frown. And part of my duties is not getting behind on all those intel reports I have to send… which I am most definitely getting behind.
“I apologise.” Elodie grimaces as she apologetically bows to what was technically the highest superior she would ever meet in her career. “I don’t believe I have the time to do so.”
Oof, that’s one down. The thought processes all conclude, running through this extraordinarily short list of possible tutors. Who's next?
The guardian of Tiancin royalty holds her stance even as the layers of sweat drip from her body. Hands upon the ground balancing her contorted limbs in an insane acrobatic act of calisthenics, her gaze remaining ice cold as she counts out minutes with a perfect rhythm of breathing.
Musculature ripples as she shifts her stance, Mori slowly straightening her legs into the air while maintaining both an absolutely unshifting handstand and a sturdiness of breath. An exercise of ultimate control, a philosophy of…
“Guardsman Fushimi.” Sophia Elise suddenly speaks next to her.
Like a surprised cat the Guardswoman is a blur of movement in black clothing, leaping to her feet. A hand brushes the lethal blade stored on her thigh holster before recognizing the owner of the voice. “Gods, Sophia! When the hells did you get in here?!”
The Fourth Princess doesn’t react, awkwardly turning towards the now ajar door to this exercise room of the eastern wing. “Around a minute ago.”
“A minute ago?” Mori catches her breath, reaching towards the towel draped over a nearby chair. “I didn’t even hear you.”
Sounds like a common theme today…
She continues, wiping the sweat from her face. “What do you need, Ma’am?”
Sophia Elise takes a cold scowl on her face as she holds her arms behind her back. “You have lived your life in the Tianci Dominion. Do you consider yourself well versed in the Tiancin written language?”
Through labored breaths and a slowing heart rate the Guardswoman thinks to herself. Where is she going with this…
“I get by. What’s this about?”
Sophia Elise the Eighth, Fourth of the Silver Throne, speaks from her very quickly drying well of pride. “Would you be capable of teaching me the Tiancin written language?”
“Me?”
“Yes.” Sophia states as a matter of fact.
Guardsman Mori Fushimi thinks to herself for a few seconds, a sly smile emerging from the scowl of intensive exercise. “I’ll be very honest with you Sophia, you’re asking the wrong person.”
“And why is that?” Sophia cringes, desperation really coming forth as she basically begs through this arrogant facade. “I have noted that you are capable of reading during times of your lighter duties. Is this not true?”
A sharp breath taken through teeth, this short haired Tiancin woman taking a small moment of reminisce. A little girl running through rice fields, chasing down frogs and drizzling salt on slugs. “Ma’am, I’m from a small farming town called Tatsukame in the Kazeyama State; Deep South Tianci. Great hot springs, if you ever have a chance you should visit. Out of all twenty six kids in the village I grew up with, only two learned how to read and write.
“One of them went to a college in Xiaoshan. Smart little idiot; I believe he ended up being an accountant for a bureaucrat. Do you know what happened to the other one?”
Sophia accidentally drops the ball for a few seconds, realizing that she was supposed to ask her the burning question. “What happened to the other one?”
Fushimi says it with such a matter of fact. “She enlisted in the Dominion Guard the day she turned twenty one. Only learned how to read and write then, and really; if I were to be honest, she was never good at it, even now.”
“Even now?”
“Pretty embarrassing considering she’s now a Royal Guardswoman.” Mori Fushimi gives a knowing wink to the Fourth Princess.
Sophia measures these words carefully, attempting to imagine the life path of this mysterious Royal Guardswoman who happened to know her current Guardsman.
The internal monologue puts a palm to its face. She was talking about herself, you fool.
The Guardsman continues. “I’m sorry Ma’am, I can’t teach you how to read Tiancin.” Mori finishes off her statement with a knowing glance placed to Sophia, her bit of intrigue completed with some barbaric grace. “But I do know someone who can.”
very closely :D)
