The Shining Wyrm

7.3

On what she was told was an especially cold and unpleasant winter day, Jewel read the works of Lord Sorcerer Urul the Written Weird.

It was quite interesting how much of a difference his perspective on things seemed to be from how Tsugotholan explained them. But to quote her teacher on matters of sorcery and the divine, “I am not so proud and foolish to think I am the sole font of truth.”

Which was a very humble perspective from the Sorcerer, in the Wyrm’s opinion.

Then again Jewel had immediately, after receiving the book, also gotten a warning that it was quite common for nearly every wizard to have some period of their long lives where they absolutely did think they knew everything and that Urul the Written Weird was still quite stubbornly not moving past his and thus reading his work should be done with care.

Jewel had agreed to be careful of what she read, although was still not exactly sure how one was supposed to be careful in that regard.

It’s not like books could hurt her. But she was very cautious and slow in her reading all the same.

After all, it was a book on the nature of sorcery, handed to her from the sleeve of a Wizard and Weird.

Taking the advice of its owner on being careful seemed quite prudent.

Still, after the first time opening the spine did nothing but disturb Jewel with the altered physicality of anything once stored by the Bog Weird she relaxed substantially.

Which was why she was curled around one corner of the study carefully peeling pages apart to turn them.

Also she was making sure that her brother was keeping up with his own reading.

Alexander was making another attempt at concentrating on reading through the histories.

By the leather cover and the scent of the vellum, it was the third volume. The one that dealt with the reformations of Viznove into fealty to The Realm and its then King. The event of which immediately followed after the first war with the Magarska Kingdom when but for a few stalwart allies Viznove had stood alone against the forces from the south.

Jewel rather liked that period as it had brought clearer to her the nature of the Honor that the house of Rochford held as vassals to the Countess of Viznove and the obligations she and her brother would one day hold as members of their family and... The Realm.

Jewel wilted a little bit at the reminder.

Well she supposed that part was less important now, but the rest of it was still very interesting she thought.

However, since there were barely any battles in that section, Alexander was much less enthusiastic about the Third volume of the Histories.

Alexander was very hard to motivate on the histories when it was not to do with the Tyrant War or the other battles that followed after the splintering of its vassals into the many territories that eventually either swore to the Realm or fell to their neighbor and often enemy in the Magarska Kingdom.

But so far today he had finally reached a half of the way through the volume!

That was better progress than he had ever made before at it. And she liked to think it was because she had been allowed to join him in the study for reading practice again. (Though she was still forbidden from being near him when he was practicing his scribe craft!).

Assured that her brother was still diligent and not yet needing encouragement, Jewel returned to her own reading.

And such a delightful book it was!

For all the warnings and disparagements upon its author, it was a very pleasant read.

Urul the Written was shaping up to be maybe Jewel’s fourth favorite author.

Maybe even third!

She honestly thought she might even rank him higher in time!

It was just there was something extra special about reading his words in particular. Urul the Written Weird was a Wizard that Tsugotholan knew personally! Jewel never even imagined that one could actually know an Author!

And Tsugotholan had said that she might actually get to meet Urul the Written!

There was some kind of correspondence between them and it was looking likely that he might arrive some year as part of the agreement that Fizzbunches had made to describe Jewel (which she still had yet to get a sensible explanation for but she assumed involved some kind of sorcery.).

So of course Jewel had utterly been delighted to go through the book after Tsugotholan had needed to ‘attend other matters’.

Jewel had some difficulty at first though (but not for the words which were clear and very well written!).

No, she had been taken aback about the state of the book when Tsugotholan had produced it in the same manner as the terrifying specter that was the unbaked loaf of bread.

However despite being floppy in a way that Jewel had never experienced any book or its binding to attain before or since the letters were unsmudged and the vellum of the pages were quite dry to the touch.

The whole thing even smelled dry and well kept. Better than some of the older volumes that Father stored in the southeast tower.

Really there was not any one single thing wrong with the book per say.

Except that the leather felt flush and alive in a way no well treated and tanned binding should.

The wood within the cover was itself supple and springy as if a fresh grown sapling.

And the pages themselves flopped and curled and even wrinkled more like cloth or fresh cut skin then the treated vellum it otherwise apparently was.

And even stranger, Tsugotholan could not even seemingly tell the difference between what they had handed Jewel and the other books in Father’s study.

Jewel had made precisely one comment as to what was wrong with the book (but not the unbaked horror).

And all it did was completely baffle and confuse Tsugotholan.

Which had gotten them on a tangent that had gone over the nature of the book to a surprising degree for Jewel. The two of them had traded words in a very spirited conversation over it and she had found it very perplexing.

By the end of it the Bog Weird had left Jewel being unsure if she herself actually knew the proper nature of a book. The discussion had muddied her thoughts so terribly and utterly failed at getting across at all to the Weird why a book should not feel like it was so waterlogged it was about to fall apart!

The counters had all made terrible and disquieting sense.

For one despite its limp nature the book was perfectly sturdy and intact.

All the glue was strong and gripping well, the pages sewn tight, every scribed letter of ink still completely legible and in fact near pristine.

Nothing was actually wrong with the book on any number of the list of things that Tsugotholan had duly noted were important to the function and purpose of a book.

It was pristine and clean and even dry as the day it was given to the Bog Weird (of which they vowed solemnly and Jewel could not dismiss for it was true in a very obvious way).

There was not a drop of water or mildew in the pages.

The vellum even took fresh ink properly! One single drop to demonstrate which Tsugotholan had then drawn back out of the page by sorcery because if they had let the mark stand to besmirch his work Urul would have vexed them for thirty-six years over it (very precisely thirty-six, he apparently was quite specific in how long he berated his peers on this topic).

But in spite of the overwhelming litany of preserved qualities of bookhood that Jewel had to admit were maintained, Tsugotholan's storage had left the tome utterly changed and altered in deeply fundamental ways that seemed also fundamentally invisible to the Weird.

It had made Jewel so confused with the otherwise sensible Weird’s incapability to understand that she had given up the discussion with a sour taste on her tongue and gone to Muriel just to reaffirm that Jewel was actually correct what a book even was.

Which had been terribly reassuring. Muriel had also stared at the floppy and yet dry pages with just as much bewildered horror as Jewel had and then confirmed for her ward that yes, this indeed was a strange and vaguely terrifying work of sorcery and taken Jewel’s warning on not daring the risk of Tsugotholan storing any items with proper seriousness…

Jewel did not even have to explain the nature of the horrifying unbaked goods either!

However after the excitement of its physically transformed nature (and discerning how one was supposed to part and then ‘turn’ pages that wanted to flop and fall like wet linen sheets) the actual reading of the book itself seemed hardly at all the trial that Jewel had expected given Tsugotholan's earlier warnings of vague danger.

It was essentially a book about sorcery.

It just had a lot of interesting ideas. Mostly on how one performed workings that really did line up well with what Jewel had experienced too!

Obviously Jaksa the Red had requested that her blood move various ways. And naturally Jewel had been able to ignore it.

So yes, that all lined up with what was written on the nature of Mortal Sorcery.

Actually, that was a curious point.

Surely if people simply knew this about the nature of magic they could just learn to recognize when a Wizard (or other practitioner) made requests for them to do something they did not in fact want to do (such as burst into flames) and just ignore that too?

Was it particularly hard to ignore these things?

Jewel supposed she had not actually ignored what Jaksa the Red was telling her to do until she had realized he was telling her to do it.

Maybe it was harder for most people to notice when a practitioner was telling them to do things like Urul’s book said wizards did?

Jewel supposed that did in fact make sense.

She already noticed so much more than most people, and you’d have to be very good at noticing things to be able to ignore it when the thing you were being told was something nasty.

Like “die.”

Or “explode.”

Or “turn into a newt.”

Actually how did you even tell someone to turn into a newt?

Jaksa the Red seemed to be far more specific about things then what the words that Jewel knew how to say actually meant.

And then there was Jewel herself.

Obviously she was performing sorcery all the time.

But what was she saying?

Thinking about it was confusing.

Jewel didn't feel like she was saying much of anything to anyone, world or not.

Jewel simply did.

Maybe doing was the same as saying?

But that didn't really match up with what Urul the Written Weird was trying to say. He very obviously described that doing things was just another way of speaking, but also a slower way.

But to speak you had to be speaking to someone.

And Jewel didn't really speak to anyone really when she did things.

She went back a few pages to check on another passage but the words did not really work with how Jewel had experienced things anymore then it did when she simply remembered it.

Hmm.

Jewel closed the book carefully (so as to avoid wrinkling the far too flexible pages) and looked over to her brother.

Alexander had only gotten about another ten or so pages through his volume of the Histories, and from the look in his eyes he was also hardly seeing the words in front of him anymore.

Just staring blankly at ink on treated lambskin.

She checked the light from the shuttered windows and listened to the wind that seemed to be easing off enough to suggest clearing clouds.

It probably was not too cold for Alexander.

And he was not getting anything from his histories anymore.

Well, it would appear she had sisterly duties to perform!

“Brother, I think I need a respite from the heavy conundrums in this book of sorcery. Would you do me the favor of joining me in the courtyard for some exercise and perhaps some martial training?”

The beaming light of his face nearly matched the warmth that flared in her own inner flames at the sight of it.

His quick nod brought a smile to her lips.

“Oh yes, Sister! I mean, I would be honored to assist you in your martial exercises.”

She considered his state of dress and recalled what she had learned about the bite and sting of cold and heat for others that were neither wizards or dragons.

“Well let us go check with Muriel and Father and get you properly armored against the weather.”

He was off and out of the study before she even finished the suggestion.

Jewel smiled and set to put the books back to their places on the shelves. She would catch up easily, after all.