Thanks to all who have reviewed, I appreciate it! Enjoy the next chapter.


Sunlight streamed through the tapestries. Seem groaned and opened one eye. Divaka's arm hung over the side of his bed. She squinted and sat up, rubbing her face. The beaded fringe of her blanket left imprints on her cheeks. "Mwuh?" She barely remembered the ride back to the Temple the night before; sweaty wastelanders had packed the small kuan into a desert vehicle and driven the monks back after the ceremony.

Hey, I still have my boots on. Oops, sand all over. She stood and shook out the blankets, yawning. Today's the first day of lessons!

"Divaka, wake up!" Seem smacked his face with a pillow. "C'mon c'mon c'mon!"

"Argh!" Divaka swatted at her. She dodged and laughed. "My eye!"

"First day of lessons!" Seem danced around. "I can't wait!"

Divaka groaned and turned over.

"Metal head." Seem stuck her tongue out at him. She changed into a clean robe and smoothed on whiteface. "We're going to be late." She tugged her cap on over her hair. Divaka muttered. Fingers still stained with white pigment, Seem poked Divaka's face. He winced. "C'mon!"

Grumbling, eyes shut, Divaka climbed out of bed and stumbled over to the closet. He wrapped a scarf around his head. Seem giggled and handed him the container of whiteface. He smeared some across his right cheek and dropped the rest.

"Uh…" Seem gestured. "I think you forgot-"

Divaka walked past her, still muttering, and out the door.

"Okay." Seem shrugged, straightened her robes, grinned, and skipped out. Divaka weaved through the hallway, heading in the general direction of the great hall. "Wait up!" He paused, turned, and opened his eyes halfway.

"Buh?" His hair stuck out from beneath his unwinding scarf and fingerprints tracked across his face. Seem laughed. "Wha'so funny?"

"Divaka is often slow in the mornings."

Seem jumped and turned. Kastahn smiled, shaking his head. She bowed.

"As fashionable as it is, you ought to go back to your room and rethink your current attire," Kastahn said. Divaka blinked, bowed, and left.

"Now, then." The skriba bent and looked Seem in the eyes. "Young kuan a-lal," he said. "Listen carefully. These are your very first words of instruction." He put a fist over his chest. "Keep them close to your heart."

Seem nodded.

"The Precursors died out long ago. They left behind their many artifacts, from which we are to gain knowledge. They left behind many Oracles, from whom we gain wisdom. The Precursors come in many forms. It is our duty as kuan to keep the Precursors holy. Honor them and all the things they have given to us. If you learn but one thing in all your time at this temple, be it to keep the Precursors sacred."

Seem nodded.

Kastahn straightened. "You're probably wondering where your breakfast is. Follow the kuan ones." He pointed down the corridor.

She bowed her head and hurried to the great hall. The kuan clustered by age group around tables, talking quietly. Seem approached the kuan one table and sat at the end. The four kuan ones turned and looked at her.

"Spitface!" A boy said. He crossed his eyes, dipped his fingers in his cup, and sprayed his neighbor with water.

"Don't call me that!" Seem glared at him.

"Spitface! Spitface!" The kuan laughed and shoved each other.

"My name is Seem!"

The boy grinned. "Fancy peasant name, isn't it?" He stood and bowed. "I'm Slip, that's Geumn, Lucky Dim, and Toops." The kuan made faces as they were named. "We were quite impressed when you stood up to Meenoch, Spitface. So impressed, we had a little meeting last night after the wedding ceremony. You can sit and play kuut'kuh with us."

"Really?"

"Yeah. We have tournaments, and the older kuan show us tricks outside of lessons. We have the best bones this side of the great hall."

"Oh, neat!" Seem smiled.

"Yeah." Slip put his arm around Seem's shoulder. "There's only one thing you have to do."

"What?"

"Stop talking to that tyro, Divaka." Slip grinned.

"What?" Seem frowned and pushed the boy away. "But, he's my friend. He's not a tyro."

"Ha!" Slip looked back at the others. They burst into laughter.

"What is a tyro?" asked Seem.

Slip snorted. "If you don't know, you are one. Divaka thinks he's better than everyone else, even when he fails half his tasks. He hides behind the words of Mar."

"What do you mean?"

"He used to be in our group, but we got tired of hearing him talk too much. So." Slip took a piece of bread and broke it in half. "We had to let him go. Your choice now, Spitface. Join us, or spend the next ten years on your own, without allies."

Seem frowned. "Divaka is smarter than all of you." Slip snorted. "So you're prolly just jealous." Seem stomped over to the food table and piled her plate with breads. Why are they so mean? Aren't monks supposed to be holy and nice?

Divaka joined her a while later, cap straight and whiteface smooth. "I probably shouldn't have drunk the stuff the marauders gave me." He rubbed his forehead. "I feel stupid. Fuzzy." He stretched and sat down. "Give me some of that."

Seem handed him a slice of bread. The other kuan ones turned away from them. Slip mouthed Spitface! She stuck her tongue out at him.

"Divaka, what's a tyro?"

Between cramming bread in his mouth, he answered. "A beginner. Someone who doesn't know what he's doing."

"Oh." She chewed her bread. It was gritty. She wondered how sand got in it; she knew the monks in the kitchens were very careful with the batter. "What's our first lesson?"

"Every other morning we have a lesson on Greeting the Dawn, Shaktna Nai. Forbrior instructs it. He teaches most of the ceremonies." Divaka pointed to Seem's cup. She handed it to him. He took a big gulp of water. "The skriba teach in their areas of expertise. Except Baromah- he's too old to teach now."

"How old is he? A million? We should ask him what the Precursors were like." Seem giggled.

Divaka shot her a half smile and rose. He sneaked over to the food table and slipped bread into his pockets. "C'mon. Nothing to see here."

Seem followed him to the coatroom. Slip and the other kuan ones weren't far behind. The walls were covered with hooks, each bearing a set of coats, scarves, boots, goggles, gloves… Seem wiggled into the sandgear and snapped goggles on.

"We're going to the south side of the temple." Divaka glanced at her. "You forgot to tuck your coat around your boots."

"Oh, oops." Seem bent and pulled the loops together, wobbling. She leaned against Divaka. The sand crunched underfoot, grinding against the stones.

"You won't need scarves. We'll be shielded by the temple walls." Divaka pulled his coat straight. "Ready?"

"Yup." Seem left her scarves hanging on the hook, flanked by countless others. The kuan ones filtered out, blinking against the sun. Slip pushed past Divaka and led the way. Divaka muttered something dark. Seem missed it. She shielded her eyes with a gloved hand.

They wound around, following a stony path. The walls radiated out from the temple to form enclosed sections separated by gates. As they passed each section, Seem watched the people working. An occasional piece of wedding ribbon fluttered beneath the sand, a forgotten memento from the night before. Older kuan sat in circles in the practice plot, where Seem had first attempted Binnastina. Through another gate, others dragged buckets of water from the well to the limp garden. The next walled-in partition protected rows of wells and odd wooden machinery.

"What are they doing?" Seem pointed to a pair of kuan threes pushing a huge plank, impaled through a stone pillar, around in a circle.

"Grinding grain. They're moving a big rock in the mill between them. It crushes the seeds."

One of the kuan grimaced as the wind blew.

"That's why the bread is sandy, huh?"

"Yup. If you eat it long enough, your teeth get flat. Bread's the only thing keeping Meenoch from having fangs." Divaka ushered her through the next gate. "Here's the section we want. The altar."

Forbrior stood next to the altar, nodding at the young kuan as they sat. A few lumps of bread and a pitcher waited beside him. The altar was a smooth, black stone set between two towering obelisks. Oracle motifs and Precursor script were carved down the angled sides. At the top of each was a relief of Mar, looking out over the desert. A bird-nosed Oracle monolith stood behind it, its gilded script faded.

"Good morning, kuan," said Forbrior. The monks bowed, removed their coats, and sat cross-legged on them. "Again we learn to complete Shaktna Nai, Greeting the Dawn. This ceremony is done every morning. Among other achievements, you must show mastery of Shakta Nai to move on to kuan two." They all nodded. "Ceremony is a combination of two parts, equally important, prayer and ritual. Prayer first. Remove your goggles. I will begin. You follow with the next line." He raised his arms. "We face the South-"

"-and Nai, the sun, rises to the left," intoned the kuan.

Seem looked around. Uh oh. I don't know any of the words.

"This morning is blessed by the Precursors-"

"-and to give thanks, we greet the Dawn."

Seem fidgeted and tried to memorize the lines. Forbrior repeated the long verse four times. Divaka sat back, hands digging into the sand. He spoke the words easily and watched the cloudless sky.

"You all still need practice," said Forbrior. Divaka rolled his eyes at Seem. "We learn it in our Contemporary tongue first, then in Middle Precursor. The meaning does not change, but the rhythm and rhyme are true in the language of our gods. Remember, you must memorize this prayer twice. Slip, lead the second verse."

Slip squinted up, remembering the words. "Calling out to the sky, we honor our life giver-"

"-and unto her pour the libations of earthly strength." Only a few spoke, all but one looking around in doubt.

"Kuan! I want to hear your voices. Speak louder; we are honoring our Nai, not muttering!" Forbrior turned. "As you are the only I could hear, continue, Divaka."

Divaka sat up straight. "The water we offer is cold and pure, it quiets the burning of the light-"

None of the kuan continued. Toops drew circles in the sand. The others similarly avoided Forbrior's eyes. Seem bit her lower lip.

"-and splits her force into colors that dance across the sand," finished Divaka. He glanced at Slip, who shot him a nasty look.

"Very good, kuan Divaka. Your mind is quick to pick up words. All stand." Forbrior motioned. Seem jumped to her feet. "Start again, Slip. Second verse."

The kuan chanted for an hour under the sun. Seem drilled the words into her brain, hoping that it would be easier to memorize the second time around. Divaka stood with his hands behind his back, rocking slightly. He looked everywhere but at the altar.

"Third verse, twenty-seventh line. Seem," said Forbrior.

Seem squeaked. She closed her eyes and spoke in a very quiet voice. "And unto the, um, tired man comes your, uh, everlasting warmth. The, uh, uh, umm," c'mon! Remember! We just went over this one!

"Desert rocks," hissed Divaka.

"Desert rocks yearn for the dawn, um, at the sight of the, uh, midnight stars."

"Good," said Forbrior. Seem beamed. "Louder next time. Dim, continue."

Once the fourth and final verse had been repeated, Forbrior motioned for them to sit. Seem plopped down, wiping her forehead. No breezes stirred under the hot sun. The altar shimmered in the rising heat waves.

"A practiced kuan can complete the Shaktna Nai in less than half an hour," said Forbrior. "Along with the prayer is the ritual. Each verse is accompanied by specific motions you must carry out. The first verse focuses on the location and importance of the rising sun. Therefore, you present in which direction?"

"Southeast," said Slip.

"Correct. The second verse focuses on what? Seem?"

"Uh… water?"

"Correct. It is then that you do the water ritual." He pointed at the pitcher. "Toops, the third verse is about what?"

"Bread."

"Correct. You then break the bread and put it around the altar. And Divaka, the fourth verse concerns what?"

Divaka looked up. "Praying for the sun's successful trek across the sky. At the very end, you thank her for rising and repeat the first verse."

"Good." Forbrior pointed to the altar. "We will now concentrate on ritual. This black stone has a slight depression in the back, where you pour the water. This is called a basin. The pitcher is crafted with a special spout. Do not be fooled by its simplicity…"

Forbrior went through each painstaking detail of the rituals. From the correct stride to the altar to the most honorable method of breaking bread, he demonstrated the exact position of the hands, feet, and face. Seem sat up, eagerly taking it all in. I don't really understand why it's so important, but it must be. I want to do this perfectly by next month! She glanced over at Divaka. He was whispering Binnastina spells into the sand, spelling out things she didn't know.

Seem nudged his foot. "Pay attention," she hissed.

"It's the words I'm interested in, not the dancing." He leaned further away from her and trailed his fingers through the sand.

Seem shrugged. Forbrior went through the ritual again. And again. Seem wiped her forehead, dismayed to see whiteface on the back of her hand. I wonder if the Dawn would mind if I took a sip of her water.

At last Forbrior brought his hands together and did a final bow. "Learning minds absorb prayer through repetition best, but you must practice as well. Divaka, pour the libations."

Divaka jumped up and bowed. "Easy." He took the pitcher by the handle and tipped it over the black stone. Water spilled out, dripped down the altar, and flowed through the faded Precursor script in the right obelisk. The kuan ones snickered. Divaka's jaw dropped. "Wha-!" He tossed the pitcher aside and hastily mopped the water with his robe sleeves.

"I see, kuan Divaka, that you were not paying attention." Forbrior stooped and picked up the pitcher. "You have demonstrated again and again a capacity for prayer, but not ritual. Do not let this be your undoing. Geumn, approach the altar and show Divaka what he has done wrong."

Divaka's face went sour and he crossed his arms. Geumn explained the double slits in the spout. "The first is wider, but curved. If you don't know what you're doing, the water will spill everywhere. You have to hold it like this," he said, resting the pitcher in his fingertips. Slip and the other kuan nodded emphatically.

Each kuan went through the ritual. Seem watched them all closely, willing herself not to repeat any of their mistakes. Seem was called on last, for which she was grateful. She did very well through the first verse, stuttered through the second and third, and managed the fourth decently.

"Good work for a first try," said Forbrior. She lowered her head and scurried over to Divaka, who nodded. "I am confidant that you will all master this ceremony. As we did before the wedding, we will meet here tomorrow night to practice Shaktna Luum'so, Greeting the Stars. The following day we will meet in the morning, and so forth, alternating until you are ready for the next task." He glanced up at the sky. "I do believe lunch will be served soon. You are all allowed the opportunity to remain here and practice until then. I must go water my old bones."

The kuan bowed and he left. Seem raised her arms to the water ritual position. "Let's practice," she said. Divaka did not answer. She glanced behind her.

Slip and Divaka stood face to face at the altar. Divaka's right hand hovered over the sand, Slip's the shallow water basin.

"Desecrating the pillars again, Divaka." Slip grinned. "Any more of that and the Precursors will wipe you from the desert."

"I know you're slow," said Divaka. "But how does one actually get the first lines of the second verse wrong? And you think I'm going to be the one killed by the Precursors? If you get any stupider, I'll sit back and laugh while you damn yourself."

"I'll wash your rank right off your face," sneered Slip. "We all know who comes from stock fit for Spargus, don't we, boys?" The other kuan smirked. Seem ran over and stood next to her friend. "And look, now he's got a little girl to hide behind."

Divaka snarled. "I hide behind no one." He raised his hand. "Binnastina!" The desert floor rippled.

Slip copied the motion. "Tsabinna!" The altar water bubbled.

Each kuan took a step to the side. A spike of sand shot up in Slip's face. He coughed and fell back. The water under his fingers lurched over the side of the altar and followed him to the ground.

Divaka laughed. "Tsabinna is too complex for you, you fool."

Slip sputtered, wiping his face. "Sand doxy!" Toops pulled him up. Divaka snorted.

"Fancy spells aside," said Lucky Dim, rolling up his robe sleeves. "Let's see you fight flesh, huh?"

"No!" Seem took Divaka's hand. "You're supposed to honor the Precursors. No more fighting. I'm leaving." She turned to go. Divaka tried to shake his hand free. "You're coming with me! C'mon." Seem pulled as hard as she could.

"Run away, run away!" The kuan ones chanted and shouted words in other languages.

"Seem, let go!" Divaka grabbed her wrist. "You don't know the things they're saying! It's insulting!"

"Then close your ears!" Divaka blinked at her. "I'm thirsty. Let's get lunch." Seem dragged him to the temple. "We can think of ways to get revenge, okay? We'll play tricks on them. Me and my sister played tricks all the time."

Divaka muttered. He pulled his hand back. "Fine. You better think of a good trick."

Seem smiled. They hung up their sandgear and headed for the great hall.

"Do we ever have anything but bread?" Seem glanced at her assorted slices. "They're different colors, but not different flavors." She poked a seeded roll.

"Sometimes they're flavored with more sand," said Divaka. Seem laughed. "There's cactus jelly over there, if you want that."

Seem smeared the green goo on her bread and sat next to him. "What's our next lesson?"

"My favorite," said Divaka. "Language studies with Kastahn. I'm ahead of everyone by a year or two. And the first foreign language I learned was the Most Ancient Precursor Tongue, Ankrennai, which is the only one the kuan sumna can speak. I'm his translator." He threw his shoulders back. "You're lucky you were assigned to me, you know."

"Yeah, yeah." Seem blessed her bread. "What's a sand doxy?"

Divaka's face darkened. "Don't say that. It's not a word befitting a kuan."

"Okay. What is it?"

Divaka sighed. "Someone who sacrifices everything sacred, body included, to gain power over the sand."

"Oh." Seem pushed the cactus jelly around. "I don't understand."

"Good." Divaka was silent for a moment, then launched into a detailed explanation of a very rare and ancient offshoot of Ancient Precursor. "Hyoni is only found on old sculptures. The characters are similar to Ankrennai, but the grammar is backwards…"

Seem nodded and ate her bread, drifting off. This cactus jelly isn't sweet enough. I wonder what kind they use. At home, we had the good ones- the short, fat ones. If you boil them for too long, they turn gluey. I wonder how long Divaka can talk to himself without anyone nodding and saying, "yup, yup."

"-curls around like the symbol 'D,' but it doesn't fit in with the words that they know, based on the contemporary sentence structure! Isn't that odd?"

"Yup, yup."

"After I finish the Nisstina Kurlu I'm going out to the deserts and finding the greatest linguistic treasure of all!" Divaka's eyes shone. "I've read a few things that hinted at a-"

Hee hee. His cap is slipping off. Seem pointed to her head.

"-ost statue has the missing scrolls, the- huh?" Divaka tugged his cap back over his hair. "Thanks. Did you know there are supposedly scrolls written by Mar's companion-"

But, of course, if you don't boil the cactus jelly long enough, it's runny and clear. That stuff stains your hands bright red. She glanced up. "Hey!"

"-controversial, which is why they were hidden in the first place. What?" Divaka took the break in his speech to cram more bread in his mouth.

"I thought of our first trick." Seem grinned. She leaned and whispered it into his ear. He smiled, glancing over at the table where Slip sat.

"We'll need to sneak out," said Divaka. "I like it." He patted her arm. A line of kuan threes and fours filed into the hall. "Time for us to go."

"Back outside?" Seem stood, brushing crumbs off her lap.

"No. Kastahn's lessons are usually inside. C'mon, we're going to the third floor." Divaka marched through the vaulted halls, pointing out silent Oracle idols and empty dark eco wall spigots.

"They're kind of creepy," said Seem, edging away from a stern-looking Oracle. A kuan three placed a woven basket next to it and bowed.

"They're not active," said Divaka. "Only really powerful kuan can get them to speak, if anyone can. And only Mar knows how to hear their secrets."

"I wonder which language they speak in." Seem followed him down another hall. She slowed as they approached a circle carved into the floor. A humming, ringing tone emanated from it. The stone shimmered. Seem stared at it. What… is it moving?

"Hey, let's go," Divaka took her hand. "C'mon."

"The floor." She pointed. The circle rippled. Seem blinked. "Didn't you see that?"

"See what? We have to go."

The humming got louder as they neared. A familiar smell filled the air. Seem shivered a little. She held her breath as they walked over it. For a split second, she felt something beneath the circle, swirling and oozing, glittering a thousand shades of purple. The liquid fascinated her; she stood still. Then, its sheer raw power radiated out, curling around her limbs. She gasped. Invisible wisps danced across her face. It grew stronger, thickening in the frigid air.

"Divaka!" She jumped off the circle and latched onto his arm.

"Huh? What's wrong with you?" He looked at her, eyebrows knit together.

The ringing got fainter as they walked on. "What was that thing?"

"Thing?" He glanced back. "Oh. That's a dark eco vent. Don't worry, it doesn't work."

"Didn't you hear it? It was making noise. And it was cold." Seem rubbed her cheek against his forearm.

"No, it wasn't. It only works when the Oracles awaken. And they're not awake right now, trust me." Divaka pulled his arm away from her. "Here's the room."

Seem peeked down the hall again. From a distance, she could see a matching circle engraved on the ceiling. I wonder what happens if you're standing there when the vent does work. She shuddered and followed Divaka.

"Welcome, kuan," Kastahn smiled. Seem bowed and copied Divaka; they each got a red pillow from the corner and sat down. The room was big enough to comfortably seat thirty. Three walls were adorned with banners and charts. The fourth had several large, black slates leaning against it. An ornate, golden chair stood nearby, a pile of flat sandstone sticks on the cushion. Racks of scrolls were arranged in rows at the back, each row leading to the same door.

"That's an entrance to the library," said Divaka quietly. He pointed to the door. "It's underground, to keep the oldest scrolls cool. I'm the only kuan one allowed down there."

Kastahn cleared his throat. Seem looked up. "Can you read?" he asked.

"No. My parents didn't have enough money to send me," said Seem. The skriba nodded. "Is that bad?" she whispered.

"No, not at all." Kastahn nodded to the kuan ones entering the room. "Very few can read when they come to the temple." The others sat in a semi-circle. Divaka and Slip exchanged murderous looks. "But some were born lucky." Kastahn smiled at Divaka and walked to the front of the room.

Seem turned. "You could read when you were born?!"

Divaka laughed. "No, no. My mom was a teacher. I knew Contemporary." He paused. "And certain slangs, before I got to the temple."

"Oh." Seem poked her pillow. "My mom is a farmer. But she does have her full citizenship." She smiled. "Only one gun, but full citizen. Same for my dad. What about your dad?" Divaka made a face. He glanced at Slip.

"Do tell," said Slip. "It's my favorite story."

Divaka snarled. "My-"

"Good afternoon, kuan." Kastahn clapped his hands for their attention. Seem leaned forward. "We only had one lesson before the wedding, so I'm afraid I must go through the introductory speech again." He smiled, waiting for the inevitable groans. "As you are surely aware, this year and the next you will learn the basics in the five mother tongues. They are not all ancient, and they are not necessarily the languages from which the dialects sprang, but they are those most commonly used in the scrolls and texts. Each of you must be proficient in the mother tongues before you ascend to kuan four. After we learn the Contemporary alphabet, we study the remaining mother tongues concurrently. Does everyone understand?" Seem raised her hands. "Yes?"

"What does 'concurrently' mean?"

Divaka groaned and looked away.

Uh oh. I asked something stupid.

Kastahn chuckled. "It means you will learn all of them at the same time." Seem's eyes widened. "For each word you know now, there are four other versions of it you must recognize. That is how it is done." He held up his hand. "One of the mother tongues is the language you all know, Contemporary. We are speaking it now. Who can name the other four?" Divaka raised his hands, palms up. "The kuan sumna's translator knows. Does anyone else?"

Ooo! I know one! Seem waved her hands. "The ancient Precursor found in southern Sickle!"

"Yes," said Kastahn, amused. "What is its name?'

"Uh… I don't know." She shrank back in her pillow.

The kuan ones looked at each other. Slip raised his hands. "Skriba, there is Middle Precursor, the language of the Temple. There is Jai'nai..." he paused. "That is all I remember." He lowered his eyes.

Forbroir nodded. "Kuan Divaka?"

"Mubaksu and Sasoosh," said Divaka, smug.

"Right." Kastahn pulled the chair forward and sat. He put the sandstone sticks on the floor. "The first step is to understand the language you already know. What is the unit of linguistic comprehension?"

"A word," said Divaka.

"Correct." Kastahn pointed. "Toops, what is the power of a word?"

"Uhh…" the kuan looked around the room at the tapestries. "To… make people… do what you want them to?"

"Hmm, interestingly put." Kastahn crossed his legs and smoothed his robe. "A word, a single word, can change the world. It can make you see something differently, or not at all. It can help you grow, or kill you. Who knows an example of a word that changed the world?"

Divaka wiggled his ears at Seem. "Kuan."

Kastahn nodded. He turned and wrote on the black slate with a sandstone stick. "For those of you who have yet to learn letters, this is the word 'kuan.' You are all kuan. You all understand 'kuan' in this way- a kuan is a holy man." The young monks nodded. Kastahn turned again and wrote another word next to it.

Seem looked at the two words carefully. They're almost the same. The first letter is different.

"This is the word 'quan.' See the difference in the way it is written?" As he spoke, he pointed to the words. "Kuan comes from quan, one of the most ancient words we know. 'Hora Quan' has long been translated as 'The Fallen Ones.' But now, students, you will learn the true meaning of the word, for it is our duty to know the true meaning of all things, and all things start with a name. And all names… are words." Kastahn scratched his chest. "Quan is the most ancient and sacred way to say 'monk' or 'holy man.' The Hora Quan are The Fallen Holy Ones. Yes, my students. The Hora Quan were once Precursors."

The kuan ones gasped. Seem's eyes widened. Divaka nodded at her stunned face. The Hora Quan were Precursors? But… they're evil! They destroy cities and kill people! Mar hunted them! She remembered what Kastahn had told her in confidence that morning. He said that Precursors come in many forms. We must keep each form close, and worship all as holy. But…

Seem raised her hands. "If the Hora Quan are Precursors, should we worship them?"

"Aha! See! Knowing the meaning of one word has changed the way you see the world." Kastahn waved to all the young monks. "Suddenly, everything you thought you knew about Metal Heads has changed."

"Yeah," said Geumn. "How can Metal Heads be Precursors?"

"Did the Precursors have skull gems?" asked Toops.

Slip crossed his arms. "How come Metal Heads don't look like the Oracles?"

Kastahn chuckled. "You will learn, soon enough, not to trust the way something looks." He shrugged. "If I were to put on leathers or tans or what have you." The kuan giggled. "And walk down the streets of Spargus, what citizen would believe my ranting? No one would even think I could be a kuan skriba."

"Does skriba mean crocodog, or something?" asked Lucky Dim. Seem laughed. Even Divaka cracked a smile.

"No, my young friend. Skriba is as straightforward as one could expect. It means, simply, a kuan who has reached a deep understanding of the Precursors." He cleared his throat. "Perhaps, someday, one of you will be a skriba." Divaka nudged Seem and pointed to himself. "We do not worship the Hora Quan," continued Kastahn. "They are no longer Precursors. When they abandoned the holy duties of their brethren, they fell. The Precursors give. They give life and they give hardship. The Precursors take, too. They take lives to balance the world, but they also take away pain. In your darkest hours, you can pray and be comforted. Hora Quan breathe solely to bring destruction and horror. One may study them to learn their weaknesses, but they ought never to be worshipped."

The kuan ones nodded.

"For hundreds of years, prophets have written about the Precursors' plans for the world. The most important and lauded of these is Mar. He and his companions wrote countless scrolls and texts. They have been translated and passed down more times than I care to think of. As the city states of this quadrant fought and conquered, the texts were lost, found, and retranslated. It is for these reasons that you must be able to understand holy words in the five mother tongues." Kastahn stood and drew three horizontal lines on the slate. "The history of language is broken down into three eons; Ancient, Middle, and Contemporary. Words and languages recount the schism between the Precursors and the Hora Quan. In ancient times, the Precursors spoke Ankrennai." He drew a line at the bottom of the board, then wrote a long word next it. "This is Most Ancient Precursor. When the Hora Quan fell, the language split." He drew another line coming off the first. "This is the ancient language of the Hora Quan. It is called Kug'dar. Notice how I have the ancient languages at the bottom. Time is represented as going up, you see."

Divaka leaned back. Seem glanced at him. I bet he knows all of this already. Darn. I wish my mom had been a teacher! Oh well. If I get stuck, I'll bug him for help.

"There are at least seven variants of Ankrennai, and six of Kug'dar." He looked over the kuans' horrified faces. "Now, now, you won't need to know them all. But you do need to understand the order of things and where the five mother tongues fit in. Lets start with the variants of Ankrennai. When you draw branches coming off the main line, this is a language tree, you see, you designate a region of the slate for the land mass the language is associated with. For example, Dhwan, the ancient tongue of Northern Sickle, is only found on firecrackers. Amllennai was found in the region of ancient Haven. Jai'nai, see how it branches off, here? Jai'nai was spoken in ancient Perpetua and the Icelands, where our new king came from…"

Kastahn filled the slate with a great, branching language tree. Seem goggled at all the script. Holy unknown mother of Mar. How can anyone keep all this in one head? I hope I'll be able to learn the five mother tongues. I already know the numbers! But look at the script. Can you write "Spargus" in another language, or is it always "Spargus"?

"And the last rare ancient language, M'neesh Mah. I don't know if even our resident expert has heard this one. Divaka?"

The boy looked at the ceiling. "I think… it's the rare, holy language of tribes living outside of Sicklian Underworld entrances."

"Why, quite right! Well done. Pair up, everyone. You will share the scrolls in racks one through three today. Practice your Contemporary symbols. By the end of this week, you must know the alphabet and be able to sound out simple words."

Seem skipped over to the racks. The wooden scroll ends jutting from long cubbyholes all looked the same to her. "Which?"

Divaka pulled a thick scroll down. "This one, here. The scrolls are usually wrapped in covers. They're like bags; they keep the paper safe. See? It says Desert Night I. That symbol means one. There are four total, I think. Hold it like this." He put it in her cradled arms. "I'll take these two."

Divaka showed Seem how to unroll the scroll properly. "These are new, so they won't rip. But if you ever use an old one, you have to be extra careful. You also wouldn't unroll it on the floor."

Seem smoothed out the scroll. Lines of squiggles and circles ran down, each as foreign as the last. "Oh, Mar help me."

Divaka laughed. "Here's a practice scroll. It's blank." He pulled a metal head scale from his robe pocket. "This is a pen. It's been rolled up very tightly. You pour ink in one end. Hold it with your fingers here." He positioned it in her small hands. "Feel that? You can squeeze the end. That's so you can control how much ink you want to write with. The first line of Desert Night I is used in this lesson because it has the whole alphabet in it. Copy it on the blank scroll."

"What does it say? What is it about?"

Divaka traced the script as he spoke. "'The following words are true, and they are my own. I am Mar. The cities I've built, defended, and loved are my living wills… Actually, as exciting as that sounds, the Desert Night scrolls are ridiculously boring. They're all about economics and how Spargus was founded and how you should run a society and government."

"Oh." Seem fumbled with the pen. It leaked black ink everywhere. Divaka occasionally took a break from his scroll to give her tips. Kastahn wandered the room, singing the alphabet with students individually.

"Don't hold it like that!" Divaka took the pen. "Look, you cracked it! No, don't get sad. Here, I have another one. Be more careful. Hold it like I showed you."

"I forgot how!" Seem waited impatiently as Divaka adjusted her fingers. "Ow!"

"There. Now don't move them until you're finished with the line. And try to make the spaces between the letters more even."

"Hmmph. I like ceremony lesson better than this." She leaned over the scroll and studied the characters. "Let's see… circly thingy, line, line, curvy line, circle, circle, curvy line thingy…"

Divaka rolled his eyes. Kastahn tapped Seem's shoulder. "Worry not, little one. It gets easier with practice. You can, of course, rely on your friend to help you." His eyes glittered.

"Yep," sighed Divaka. "I don't remember ever struggling with reading and writing. Hopefully all you'll need is time."

Seem smiled. She scratched her face, leaving a black smudge. "Curvy line, curvy line, squiggle, circle, circly thingy, circle…"

Fun fact: this site doesn't support the Precursor font. Not that I expected it to.

Thanks for reading!