— Savoice retorting Najarv'sye after the expression meeting
"Morning, Savoice," Polly met me at the dining hall for breakfast. "You sittin' here?"
"Yeah, just wait for me," I walked over to the plates and fattened them.
But my mind wouldn't leave the stalling thought of the vavasa well in my room. Jalade stayed a while after Coffnaigh left and told me about some of the legends of vavasa. They could never be taken outside of their indigneous area, regardless of who carries it, and I knew that. He told me about Kasaiphus the philosopher's theories about people on Reyonis Platura not existing. I did ask him if that was denying reality, and he quickly said that it wasn't because it is just a proverb. Figurative speech.
After Jalade finally taking his leave, I couldn't hold it all in. So, instead of letting the anxiety consume me into its condemnation of isolation, I took a drink of the water for myself. Fear was the main contributor to hesitating, but it did not hold me for long. I cupped my hands and slurped up the slow water. Shortly thereafter, my body was more than soothed, and I fell right to sleep.
The only concern now is figuring out how the water came into the room in the first place. And, now that there were two witnesses, there would be no denying that it happened.
I sat down beside Polly along with Interpreter Satire who happened to be there. "So, that 'expression' meeting is here today, right?"
"You bet," Interpreter Satire said. "I'm gonna ask a lot of questions. I still believe about that punishment thing he was talking about with the Salwomese male."
"Hm...I believe that Najarv'sye overexaggerates," Polly avoided using his hands to eat the meat.
"What? Why do you believe that?" I said.
"Because he somehow knows what to say and when. You know when Lovopian asked him if he prepared himself for his speeches? Well, it was a bad question and stuff, but it did make some point to me. If you were true, you would tell as it is, without so much exaggeration. It's like he prepares for it or something. I mean, Pulin, do you ever go up in a speech and perfectly recite it without filler words?"
"Uh, I never thought about that," Pulin said. "Maybe I can."
"Well, if you didn't notice already, you just said one. So, no ya can't." Polly briskly brushed Pulin's hair as the dim witted one pulled away.
"Maybe he's required to do that," I said.
"That's just not likely, though, in my opinion."
From there, we continued to eat our food together discussing the means for the meeting. The calling shrill came to us at the table, and thus we went to the meeting.
This time, the door was already open as Dojyu Coffnaigh walked out. "Get in order, people." He hit Khovab's arms while passing. "Eh, you, remember about what we talked about? Don't even think about it to mention." Khovab just rushed past him in avoidance to speak. Surprisingly, Coffnaigh didn't say anything to me.
At the front, Moderator Elleai was seated closest to Najarv'sye beside Moderator Fuge. Najarv'sye was sitting at the front with a full grey suit and scarf, only with teal seamlines to contrast his look. His glasses were the same, as was his posture. The straight look of determination never let me down. Except his falling hair, though. It looked quite wet, too.
Everyone else seated themselves quietly as Moderator Fuge began to mumble either to himself or to us.
"Sorry, Moderator, we can't hear you," Myaari said.
"Ugh...," it sounded as if he mumbled again, but he did at least attempt to raise his voice just a little.
Zona had it. "Would you just speak lou--."
"He was saying that we're about to begin," Moderator Elleai saved us. "It's alright, Moderator. I can explain it." Thus, he sat down as she turned to us. "Welcome to our fourth meet, you all. Today, we are implementing a different system to ease down on time. Najarv'sye will still give his 'expression' as usual, asking questions are no longer into the system of asking during the meetings. Questions for him are now optoinal--for Interpreters, Finalizers, and Moderators alike. If you choose to leave the meeting afterward, that is fine. As long as you attend the 'expression' and 'conclusion' meetings, you are good. We--."
Then a great thought came to me. "Are we allowed to dismiss ourselves when we want?"
"What? No," her voice flared. "You can only leave by permission, Savoice. You knew that."
I shrugged it off and smiled at Polly, who was snickering with Pulin and Salmah. I don't really know what they're laughing about, but for some reason I wanted to smile along and go with it.
Moderator Elleai closed her eyes and sighed. "You can proceed on, Najarv'sye. I'm very sorry." She sat down as Najarv'sye nodded at her.
"It is absolved," he said. "The eyes for the future has been shivering against its tempers. Most of the underlyers of prominence fuels its propogation. Therefore, those who weep now reap depression for their despised.
"Today, I will discuss with all of you fellows about my journey a day ago with regards to staying over the Talchon's residence. Two days ago, by request of the Ovil, I had to take a walk and write what I see so that I can submit it to the log headquarters. Once this would be done, I could return back home.
"I told Talchon about the assignment, and he complied to follow me. The both of us roamed around Dakahama and conversed about our lifestyles. If there were one aspect to remember about Talchon was when I asked him about his wife, Emerita. He seemed resentful in expectation that I was able to resolve her vine attatchment issue, telling me that I shouldn't ask. However, I kept inching him to answer. He was indeed concerned about his wife.
"Finally, he took the initiative to answer, saying that now Emerita had become home-bound. Apparently, she seldom spoke to him as her pain worsened. Eventually, he became sensitized to emotion, expressing that she could be dying. With me letting no emotion dwindle my spirit at all, I did not properly comfort him. I told him that if she does die, then he would have to be prepared. So, after such statement, he was offended, and made his decision to leave."
Thought came into my personal mind. How would I settle a situation like this? With me having no one beside me, and no one to truly have concern for, would I attempt to save this Emerita girl? Perhaps, I would just put her out of her own misery. She suffers anyway, so why let her prolong it?
Najarv'sye spoke over my thoughts. "...Dakahama seldomly. In the centre was few people. The square meeting place had side benches which I took a seat beside. A girl with green hair and golden eyes took a look for me and spoke about how she used to be located in Mymyras, and suddenly appeared there. I asked her about her personal life, regarding occupation, family, and beliefs. Her name is Regipua Wased, an observer from Salwom who came to join the Ovilian Arch of Studies. She has a husband, one child, who devotes much of her time to support the Vavy principles around Reyonis Platura as much as possible.
"While I exchanged information with her, a mysterious male walked toward us. He said, 'Get away from my wife,' and pushed me out of the seat. Regipua had a grin on her face and stood beside her presumed husband. She said that I was an anti-Vavy, although I never mentioned it to her. Immediately, the male swayed his blonde hair as his massive hand chopped across my neck. It is rare to be attacked in Ovilis by another experiencer.
"Sprinkes of needle-like pricks spread around my neck and back, granting a headache on the side. I would not let that prevent me from protection, though. I fled the situation, running far along the square center. I could hear his footsteps pounding the dirt behind me. Breaths of exasperation began to settle in fear of execution. It was very uncommon for a quarrel as this to trail in the present adversity of Ovillis.
"To add to the troubles, the Punisher came to deem the two of us. At the horizon was strings of cyan light that immediately streamed to the skies and transformed its look. Those that were standing in its place arose with it, their limbs flying as it was hacked off, their torsos being stabbed through. The barred strings became a monuement of blind, rejoyous graves.
"Sounds of fleeing quieted down as the attacker got farther. My eyes streamed down the three lost lives on the barred string. As frozen puppets they hung with an escaping breath of death. Those surrounding round about gasped in horror and escaped. I thought of the saving barrier which determined a safe escape for me.
"After this event, I took a look around the city to disregard the underlying penalities. There were a group of mournful children in witness of the summoned sword gate. It seemed that they were having class of some sort, so I took a seat on the ground near them. An instructor ordered them to sing the 'Refuge Anthem', frequently having to shout at a melodic flaw and have them flat a note to rehearse from the beginning.
"There was the one glass girl which never ceased singing. She was singing, 'Dreaded and somber I was, born and clean will I be.' The other children would blend the actual lyrics to the anthem and confuse it with the glass girl's misleading. Thus, the instructor had a more difficult time with them.
"Behold, though, the instructor yelled at them, saying, 'All of you waste my ear!' But, right after, she covered her mouth. Perhaps, she did not intend to say that.
"A child among the group pointed at the instructor's head. There was indeed a large shell that appeared at the side of the instructor's head and extended as a secondary spine down the side of her face. The instructor noticed the observant child's attention, and felt the very spine. It could have been the spine of a creature, or worse, the spine of a now dead person somewhere in Ovilis.
"Because the attacks of Ovilis grasped my mind, I knew that it was time to leave. I attempted to get up from the ground, but an excessive force began to weigh me down. As weights of gravity pulled my body down, I yelled to the children for assistance. However, as the instructor was in panic, the children soothed their internal tensions with proper melody of the 'Refuge Anthem'.
"The hollow burdens of sighs our anscestors brought," Najarv'sye faintly sang for speech, "was the perishing doom for oppressors..."
Hearing him sing was odd, as some of us may have felt awkward about it. Salmah, hearing the rasping of Najarv'sye's voice, layed his head and still somehow took notes. Khovab frowned. Interpreter Lalsu raised an eye. Interpreter Myaari closed his eyes and smiled. Even Moderator Fuge's eyes were closed.
Even though it was awkward, my thoughts connected with the song. "The hollow burdens of sighs our anscestors brought"... I wonder if that has to do with the Nylans.
"Pursued into error, the glimpse of light dimmed among the stars," Najarv'sye sang. "Never has it been a duty to flee its own kind, but power does it so. Holding on to a fraile hand the power deems it righteous, never to gain again. Molten blood drips near the flesh; acceptance dims near the false sights."
I don't know why he decided to break into song like that, but I felt where he sensed doing it. The song seems to have a negative approach to life and how it nulls its existence, and yet we enjoy it somehow. Is this a song of denial? Isn't this the anthem of the Ovilians, anyway?
"...anchored in relief..." Najarv'sye finished.
All of us stared as Najarv'sye's eyes flashed around.
"I am almost done," he said. "After the words of the anthem came into my ear, as my body was being weighed down, I realized that I could lay until someone lifts me. So, I did. For a while, I lied in the dirt of full weight. It seemed very long as impatience kept my mind. The children sang other songs in the distance as the instructor was still wrought in fear.
"Talchon came up beside me and apologized for his behavior earlier. I told him that I could not move, so he picked me up with no weight, and thus, the weights I felt vanished. He carried me all the way to my staying place then dropped me once we got there. Emerita was sitting right in front of it, mouth clasped closed by the growing vines. There was nothing I could do for her.
"Talchon said that I had to be careful going out in the city by myself, as I reminded him that he departed from me. So, the two of us went inside and had dinner, leaving Emerita outside. Even when Talchon left, she was still there. I confronted her, but she could not speak to me. Encouraging to even go to her home was even a struggle, so I went inside and went about my business. I wrote everything which I recalled to you, plus some.
"So, I am finished. Gratitude for all for your time this morning."
Moderator Fuge was fast asleep. He did not even shudder one bit.
Moderator Elleai smiled. "No, thank you, Najarv'sye." She stood. "If that be all, everyone here is now dimissed."
"Wait, what about the questions?" Interpreter Kon'effin said.
"If you were listening, we're not doing them anymore," Khovab rolled his eyes. "I mean, if you want to ask questions now, you can." He felt through his feathers. "I'm leaving though."
He wasn't the only one leaving, though. Interpreter Lalsu, Salmah, Lovopian, and Polly moved way out the door also. But, I did not leave, because I had a question.
Najarv'sye walked to us who remained. "It seems that this case is split down the middle."
Moderator Elleai came behind him. "Najarv'sye, the Ovil has omitted the question system to prevent tension. I am very sorry."
"If you were sorry, you would be sitting among them."
Her eyes blinked quick. "What do you mean?"
"Ranks have blinded the truth. If you are a Moderator, as the sleeping one is, then you should have an inference on the matter as well."
"I...I have to go." From there, she departed from us, making my opportunity to ask questions longer.
"Ugh, why is everyone leaving?" Interpreter Kon'effin said.
"I guess they like this new rule," Interpreter Myaari said. "Najarv'sye can we ask you questions now?"
"I personally want everyone here. However, if it be so of absence, ask away."
"Uh," the young one studdered, "So, does the glass girl live near you?"
"I see her often living in the living space of Dakahama, yes."
"Well, what happened to that girl that was keeping you from leaving? You know, when you were hit with the laser the last time you told us? What was her name..."
"You are referring to Rejerita Ibbins."
"Oh, yes. What happened to her?"
"I had not seen her since the last time we had the encounter you reference."
"Najarv'sye," Interpreter Kon'effin said, "I noticed that earlier you said that you found attackers on Ovilis 'uncommon.' Was that male using his abilities against you or something?"
"No, no, at least I don't suppose so. His hands were quite strong to hit against mine, so it may have been just physical strength. I say that it is uncommon because Ovilis already has its present issues which people have to settle with. It almost seems useless as a sufferer to fight another sufferer. It just brings more grief on the two of them."
Wequt, the silent one, sat there and took notes on paper.
"Do you think that these are punishments for the people. Like, for example, when you were being chased by that girl's mate, barriers came up. To me, that's a symbolism of enclosing you from running. But, do you think it's your punishment?"
"It could be the punishment of those who were stabbed into the barrier. They remained in their place as they watched me flee trouble of the male, not assisting."
"But, since you don't intervene with anyone else's burdens, would you be punished for that reason, too?"
"Well, I could have been when I was being weighed down by gravity."
Interpreter Satire took his answer and nodded. It just wasn't enough, though.
"Why did you start singing?" The question did sound silly at first, but with enough thought, one would notice that singing a song during a meeting is unacceptable.
"I started singing because the lyrics and melody came vividly in my head."
"So, you sing because you feel that it would help us to hear the melody? You hear it deep enough to where you've lulled yourself into a world that doesn't exist."
Moderator Fuge woke up. "Denial! I hear denial!" He looked around, then at me. "Was that you that said that?"
"Yes," I turned to Najarv'sye. "You began to sing because what? You felt as though if you began to sing, you would remember everything else?"
"I sang because the words meant more to me than the beautiful melody. As the words gave dreadful wording, they were singing in a major scale. They were rejoicing of what they heard, but did not mind what they said."
"Just make sure that Najarv'sye is the last person out, so he can close the door." Moderator Fuge walked out of the room.
"Wait, aren't one of the Moderators supposed to be in here?" Kon'effin said. "That's one of the rules..."
"Burden yourself not," Najarv'sye said. "It is better without restrictions. Any other questions?"
"About the song," Myaari said, "Can you translate it for us?"
"I mean, can you give your interpretation on it?"
"An accurate answer is not garunteed, but I will attempt. The song says that power is useless, although it has the power to judge much. No matter of the suffering, there is still relief, or escape, somewhere."
"That wasn't thourough enough for me," Kon'effin said. "Explain how that has to do with you singing it, since it meant so much to you."
Najarv'sye balanced on one foot. "Why do you think I sang it?"
"Because you were trying to tell us how it sounded, although it didn't sound totally right."
Najarv'sye nodded. "Are there any other questions?"
"What do you think Emerita is being punished for?" Pulin said.
"Punished...that word unsettles me at its slightest. Ovilis had chosen her as the vessel for plant life to thrive throughout her body. Therefore, she may not be punished, but chosen. Now, let me ask all of you--where do you believe your origins are?" He pointed at Wequt. "Specifically you."
Wequt, eyes widening, looked up into choosy Najarv'sye's eyes. "W..." His low voice moved the room to silence.
"You," Najarv'sye was still looking at him, "Tell me what you believe your origins to be."
Wequt said nothing.
Najarv'sye pointed to Kon'effin. "What do you believe your origins to be?"
"I don't know. There could be the Nylans and what not..."
Najarv'sye nodded. "After these few days working with the Ovilian Arch of Studies, it seems that the attacks of Ovilis have amplified. Could it because the Nylans look upon me and punish me?"
"Punishment...?" Interpreter Satire looked at the ground. "It could be."
"Are there any other questions?" Najarv'sye said.
No one asked.
"Hm...very well. Let us sojourn for the days to follow with more understanding..."
"Wait." There was one more thing I needed. "Was that you that added the vavasa well in my room and painted the ceiling black? Was that you that added the shower pores and made me look like everyone else?"
"That, fellow, was Ovilis. As it matters dear to you, and it sees fit that you may have not done it yourself, let these signs be a story you make for yourself." He stood by the door. "Word last, depart last."
All of us stood up and walked out. But I, with curiousity of Najarv'sye, stopped in front of him. "The last word is the part of you that needs to depart. You sang that song because you denied reality."
He did not do anything; a observant stare through the glass lens of his bifocals beamed a light against my mellow eyes. I just walked out from there and nodded.
Indeed. He is the one associated with doing this. So, I now must confront Dojyu Coffnaigh and affirm my duty. For now, everyone now has a distrust for Najarv'sye's beliefs, making them all deny reality--except me of course. It would even be best to address it at the meeting tomorrow to truly contort their matters against them.
I stood at the executive door.
"Savoice," Moderator Fuge walked up, "What are you doing standing at the door?"
"I am waiting for Dojyu Coffnaigh."
"You're not supposed to be in this part of the facility."
"Well, Moderator Elleai let me in there last time. So..."
"Don't think you're excused, Savoice. When I open this door, don't even try coming inside." He walked into the door, using just the touch of his hand, and walked inside.
I put my foot in the way of its closing. "You don't tell me what to do." Even then, I moved my foot and let him slam the door in my face.
For the rest of that day, I went to Salmah and asked him for some paper, for I wanted to futurely take notes. He told me to go down to the entrance fourier and get it, so I did. Then, I came back to my room and wrote much about how to plan the meeting for the conclusion. When I was done with a sheet of paper with the used pen, I would make a trip down to the entrance fourier again to get more.
I stopped by Lovopian's place, but he quickly told me that I was being a nuisance, so I walked to Zona's room.
"I need you to ask you something," I said. "How did you figure out that I got another dock? What was it for?"
"What do you mean? I know everything that goes on around here. You got that dock because you were challenging against the Ovil. You found his hideout, too, so they had to move him. You've got one more left--one more chance to get it wrong, and then you get to leave."
"You make this sound as if I should leave."
"I want you to leave, imbecile."
He tried to close the door, but I managed to get a punch out of him. No one is going to call me that any longer.
"Do not call me that." My fists were hard red as his face gave a drop. "Because I'm not leaving, you are not going to be satisfied--at all. You don't know but a thing which concerns you and your covered eye. Before you know it, you might lose the other one." From there, I stormed back into the room.
There are no answers being fulfilled here. Question after question, answer after answer, the sinkhole of confusion opened wider and swallowed the simple. It has gotten to a point where those intolerable to a mere thirty minutes are now able to exclude themselves for an intriguing question section. They have all let it go, as I grabbed on and clenched it.
Why does it seem that the roles have switched between the tired and the youthful? In the beginning, all of the people here were dedicated to their work ethic and ensured that a real solution be met. I was the one complaining along with Interpreter Satire about how there is not enough food served during the day. I was the one saying that I was the Higher. I was the one whistling when my attention needs weren't met.
But, now it has all switched. Now, all of the people have decided to relax even during the work, and they never care to find the soluion. They would spin around and around in pointless questions to lengthen the time, and now it has gotten to where the questions section has been omitted. Omitted. The next omission is eliminating Najarv'sye altogether.
The only one that did not change was Najarv'sye.
What has happened to all of the people here? Is it the Ovil giving out orders? Perhaps, it is Dojyu Coffnaigh trying to prove a point with his petty talks about acceptance. Cerva Sah's been kinda quiet. Is it that he regrets drafting all of these interpreters for Najarv'sye's conclusion? Or, is it all on me?
With all the papers lying on it, I leaped backward into them right onto the hanging bed. Rocking back in forth, the waves of paper flew around me as gliding snow. It floated very, very high to the ceiling, and mellowed back down with consistiency. The ropes suspending the bed carelessly strung its chords against my pressure. If there is going to be thought to it, there is going to be laying.
My mouth bore a whistle of despised sight when the papers swiveled and swirled down to its subjected flooring. I closed my eyes. My ears were dim. The revelations were evolving as the papers flowed down the rope of rank.
No longer was the ceiling black; the sickly Platurians rejoiced among their despair. The shower pores were gone, and the cement floors that were once there now matched the rest of the floors. The hanging bed structure did not hang any more; it lied on the floor with a hovering wave to it. The Vavasa well was against the wall as a curtain of water that waved subtly against its fashion. All of the papers floated amid air, so bright that it glew bright against me. Some of the paper reflected an image of myself, the self of me that was not Ovilian. The door was barred shut.
I blinked hard.
All of the visions seemed to be gone, or what where not visions at first... I am not sure. The room had the door opened, and the shower, and the vavasa water, and the hanging bed structure once again. It seems that at this point in time of thought, the views changed.
Words last, depart last? What did he mean?
Last words? Last depart? No.
If words come last, a person ends up departing last? No.
Words last when they depart...?
Words have become the enemy.