GAAA! I forgot the disclaimer in the last several chapters, so here it is again: I do not own the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or any of their affiliates. However, I do own Sasha, her Token, and the story line to this fic.
For all you people who have wanted answers—I hope this chapter at least gives you some more information. I'm not one to have everything just blurted out before the end though, I like to save that for the villains (you know, how the bad guys always reveal their evil plot to the good guys, thinking that the good guys will be defeated, but then they get defeated themselves) ANYWAY...on with the story...
XII
Donatello stared unblinking at his computer screen. Things were not adding up right, and he didn't understand why. He was researching the scrolls that had been stolen from the museum, most likely by the Foot. More recent news broadcasts on the investigation had revealed that the robbery followed the same pattern as many robberies in the past. Robberies that the turtles knew had been committed by the Foot. Which meant Donatello and his brothers were the only ones who could take care of the problem.
But what would the Shredder want with these scrolls? From his research, most of the scrolls had been impossible to translate—mainly due to the fact that much of them had been written in a language that had long since died out, and that no one really spoke back when it was used. While the scrolls were of ancient Hebrew origin, they held very little religious value, and the few scrolls that could be translated basically told myths that did not apply to the basic beliefs of Judaism or Christianity, so what pertinent information could the Shredder get out of them? No one knew how to pronounce any of the words on the scrolls, so even if one of them contained a spell of some sort, it would be harmless.
Donatello groaned and leaned back, rubbing his face with his hands. This robbery was so random, not like Shredder at all. What the heck could he be up to with these scrolls? Donatello had been racking his brain over this problem ever since April had told them about the robbery. And now, two days after Sasha's duel with Leonardo, Donatello was still just as far from an answer as ever.
As he thought, Donatello's e-mail indicator popped up, announcing he had received yet another reply to the post about Sasha's necklace. He rolled his eyes, expecting it to just be another "Looks like Hebrew to me" or "WOAH! Where'd your friend get that? I want one!" reply, he almost deleted it before reading it. But the sender's address caught his attention.
"Why would a professor from South Eastern University reply to my post?" Donatello mumbled to himself, opening the e-mail.
Dear Sir,
I was very surprised to see your post online a few days ago. Being a
professor of Jewish studies, focusing mainly on the early Biblical
time periods, I have run into this language before. It is not a
language spoken any more, and no name was ever given to it that
anyone has found, and so it has been called 'Seraphimian'. As legend
has it, this was the language spoken and written by heavenly
messengers. Most documents we have that contain it are not
translated, and therefore we do not understand many of them. One of
the few scrolls that we have managed to decode enough to get the
general idea tells the tale of a Hercules-like figure, named
Sashitaka. One of the epitaphs given to Sashitaka is the title
"Releaser of Many Souls", and thus it is assumed that Sashitaka was
a soldier of some sort. I bring this story up because both the name
and the epitaph are found on your friend's necklace. There are other
words, which I cannot translate for you. I hope that this will be
some help to you. However, I feel compelled to ask you exactly how
your friend came across a modern piece of jewelry with this language
written on it? It is a dead language, and the general population
could care less about it. If you have any further questions, feel
free to e-mail me, and I will answer as best as to my ability.
Sincerely
Professor David C. Gotee
PhD. Jewish Studies, South Eastern University
Donatello's jaw dropped as he read the e-mail. A dead language? The language of heavenly messengers? It couldn't be...could it?
He shook his head. No, that wasn't possible. There was no such thing as 'heavenly messengers'. But Sasha's token was like new, and had definitely not come from Ancient Israel, so perhaps that meant she knew someone like Professor Gotee, someone who had studied this "Seraphimian".
A noise behind him jerked Donatello out of his thoughts. Looking up, he found Michelangelo standing nearby, looking unsure as to whether or not he should disturb his brother.
"What's up Mikey?" Donatello asked, saving the e-mail to show Leonardo.
"Not much. It's getting dark out, so I was wonderin' if you wanted to head topside for a little Christmas shopping. We're all goin'," Michelangelo explained.
Donatello looked from Mikey to his computer, and then back again. He realized that his eyes were starting to water from looking at the screen for so long. "Sure, Mikey, I'll come. Gimme a second." Donatello reached over and shut off his computer screen.
Standing up felt good, and stretching felt even better. Donnie followed Michelangelo out into the living room where Leonardo and Raphael were already getting their trench coats, fedoras, gloves, and boots on. Sasha was lounging on the couch, flipping through one of Mikey's comic books.
"You're not coming along, Sasha?" Donnie asked her, getting dressed.
"No," Sasha sighed. "Leo doesn't think it will be a good idea."
"I just don't want to give the Foot another chance to attack you," Leo replied, a little shortly. His tone of voice suggested that there had been a debate on the subject recently.
Sasha rolled her eyes.
"Don't worry, Dudette," Mikey said with a smile. "If you want, you can roll out that cookie dough we made, and cut out some cookies. Just make sure you use newspaper to cover the table when you take the cookies out of the oven so they can cool on the table. Ok?"
"Sure, plentent, whatever."
"Plentent?" Donatello repeated. "What does that mean?"
"It means about the same thing as 'okay'?"
Donatello raised an eyebrow, bringing a smirk from Raph. "She's been doing that all day, just inserting random-sounding words into her sentences. It's been getting annoying."
"You have no idea," Sasha said, turning the page of the comic. "You guys have fun. If you run into the jerks who attacked me, feel free to hurt them severely."
"Our pleasure," Raph said with a mocking bow, and then followed Mikey and Leo out of the lair. Donatello took up the rear. Before leaving, he turned to Sasha.
"Hey, Sasha, do you know any other language besides English? Are those words you've been using just gibberish?"
"They're not gibberish, Donatello. They're real words. I'm starting to remember a language I used to know how to speak. It's kind of weird." She looked up at him. "Don't look so worried, Donnie. I'm not going crazy. They're just words. Now go on, enjoy topside enough for both of us." She turned her attention back to the comic book in her hands and seemed to totally tune Donatello out.
Thinking about what she had just said, Donnie turned and hurried after his brothers.
For all you people who have wanted answers—I hope this chapter at least gives you some more information. I'm not one to have everything just blurted out before the end though, I like to save that for the villains (you know, how the bad guys always reveal their evil plot to the good guys, thinking that the good guys will be defeated, but then they get defeated themselves) ANYWAY...on with the story...
XII
Donatello stared unblinking at his computer screen. Things were not adding up right, and he didn't understand why. He was researching the scrolls that had been stolen from the museum, most likely by the Foot. More recent news broadcasts on the investigation had revealed that the robbery followed the same pattern as many robberies in the past. Robberies that the turtles knew had been committed by the Foot. Which meant Donatello and his brothers were the only ones who could take care of the problem.
But what would the Shredder want with these scrolls? From his research, most of the scrolls had been impossible to translate—mainly due to the fact that much of them had been written in a language that had long since died out, and that no one really spoke back when it was used. While the scrolls were of ancient Hebrew origin, they held very little religious value, and the few scrolls that could be translated basically told myths that did not apply to the basic beliefs of Judaism or Christianity, so what pertinent information could the Shredder get out of them? No one knew how to pronounce any of the words on the scrolls, so even if one of them contained a spell of some sort, it would be harmless.
Donatello groaned and leaned back, rubbing his face with his hands. This robbery was so random, not like Shredder at all. What the heck could he be up to with these scrolls? Donatello had been racking his brain over this problem ever since April had told them about the robbery. And now, two days after Sasha's duel with Leonardo, Donatello was still just as far from an answer as ever.
As he thought, Donatello's e-mail indicator popped up, announcing he had received yet another reply to the post about Sasha's necklace. He rolled his eyes, expecting it to just be another "Looks like Hebrew to me" or "WOAH! Where'd your friend get that? I want one!" reply, he almost deleted it before reading it. But the sender's address caught his attention.
"Why would a professor from South Eastern University reply to my post?" Donatello mumbled to himself, opening the e-mail.
Dear Sir,
I was very surprised to see your post online a few days ago. Being a
professor of Jewish studies, focusing mainly on the early Biblical
time periods, I have run into this language before. It is not a
language spoken any more, and no name was ever given to it that
anyone has found, and so it has been called 'Seraphimian'. As legend
has it, this was the language spoken and written by heavenly
messengers. Most documents we have that contain it are not
translated, and therefore we do not understand many of them. One of
the few scrolls that we have managed to decode enough to get the
general idea tells the tale of a Hercules-like figure, named
Sashitaka. One of the epitaphs given to Sashitaka is the title
"Releaser of Many Souls", and thus it is assumed that Sashitaka was
a soldier of some sort. I bring this story up because both the name
and the epitaph are found on your friend's necklace. There are other
words, which I cannot translate for you. I hope that this will be
some help to you. However, I feel compelled to ask you exactly how
your friend came across a modern piece of jewelry with this language
written on it? It is a dead language, and the general population
could care less about it. If you have any further questions, feel
free to e-mail me, and I will answer as best as to my ability.
Sincerely
Professor David C. Gotee
PhD. Jewish Studies, South Eastern University
Donatello's jaw dropped as he read the e-mail. A dead language? The language of heavenly messengers? It couldn't be...could it?
He shook his head. No, that wasn't possible. There was no such thing as 'heavenly messengers'. But Sasha's token was like new, and had definitely not come from Ancient Israel, so perhaps that meant she knew someone like Professor Gotee, someone who had studied this "Seraphimian".
A noise behind him jerked Donatello out of his thoughts. Looking up, he found Michelangelo standing nearby, looking unsure as to whether or not he should disturb his brother.
"What's up Mikey?" Donatello asked, saving the e-mail to show Leonardo.
"Not much. It's getting dark out, so I was wonderin' if you wanted to head topside for a little Christmas shopping. We're all goin'," Michelangelo explained.
Donatello looked from Mikey to his computer, and then back again. He realized that his eyes were starting to water from looking at the screen for so long. "Sure, Mikey, I'll come. Gimme a second." Donatello reached over and shut off his computer screen.
Standing up felt good, and stretching felt even better. Donnie followed Michelangelo out into the living room where Leonardo and Raphael were already getting their trench coats, fedoras, gloves, and boots on. Sasha was lounging on the couch, flipping through one of Mikey's comic books.
"You're not coming along, Sasha?" Donnie asked her, getting dressed.
"No," Sasha sighed. "Leo doesn't think it will be a good idea."
"I just don't want to give the Foot another chance to attack you," Leo replied, a little shortly. His tone of voice suggested that there had been a debate on the subject recently.
Sasha rolled her eyes.
"Don't worry, Dudette," Mikey said with a smile. "If you want, you can roll out that cookie dough we made, and cut out some cookies. Just make sure you use newspaper to cover the table when you take the cookies out of the oven so they can cool on the table. Ok?"
"Sure, plentent, whatever."
"Plentent?" Donatello repeated. "What does that mean?"
"It means about the same thing as 'okay'?"
Donatello raised an eyebrow, bringing a smirk from Raph. "She's been doing that all day, just inserting random-sounding words into her sentences. It's been getting annoying."
"You have no idea," Sasha said, turning the page of the comic. "You guys have fun. If you run into the jerks who attacked me, feel free to hurt them severely."
"Our pleasure," Raph said with a mocking bow, and then followed Mikey and Leo out of the lair. Donatello took up the rear. Before leaving, he turned to Sasha.
"Hey, Sasha, do you know any other language besides English? Are those words you've been using just gibberish?"
"They're not gibberish, Donatello. They're real words. I'm starting to remember a language I used to know how to speak. It's kind of weird." She looked up at him. "Don't look so worried, Donnie. I'm not going crazy. They're just words. Now go on, enjoy topside enough for both of us." She turned her attention back to the comic book in her hands and seemed to totally tune Donatello out.
Thinking about what she had just said, Donnie turned and hurried after his brothers.