20 Years On...

The Question of Right Now: What is life like in the Parodyverse 20 years from now?

Originally posted on Tales of the Parodyverse by Manga Shoggoth.

Parodyverse characters copyright (c) 2007 to their creators. The use of characters and situations reminiscent of other popular works do not constitute a challenge to the copyrights or trademarks of those works.

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There is always one in every House. Not devious enough to be a leman, not pretty enough to be a courtesan, not personable enough to become a servant, not stupid enough to be a drudge. Oh yes, and not male enough to be a man. Men have it easy.
The one who just doesn't fit in. That's me.
Well, my teachers comment - when they think I am out of earshot - that if I am going to be a misfit, at least I am in the right house for it. I am Niivia, daughter of Oolay of the Fine Skin by Veltrax the Blonde, son of Vaahir of the house of Viigo. Yes. That Vaahir.
I'm sorry. I am a little on edge at the moment. It's complicated.
Well, not that complicated. Martiarch Kaara is dying, and as a result everyone who knew her (and is still alive) is visiting her deathbed to make their farewells. Since she is the last of the Nine this means that a lot of people decide that they know her. During this, and during the long nights, someone has to hold vigil by the bedside, so I am excused other duties (except school) to take up one of the most boring jobs in existence. It doesn't help that the rumour in the house is that she asked for me specifically.
It's not the Matriarch that worries me, however. I like her, and have always suspected her of being kind, albeit at a distance. It's just that...
Oh Gods. A curse on my eulav spinning. The Emir's Father has turned up and I am not even in a mildly respectful pose.
* * *
Well, that was an experience. The Emir's father is nothing like the figure that appears in the songs. He insisted on me calling him Kiivan rather than Lord Kiivan, didn't have me flogged when I trembled so much that I spilled the drink he requested on his robes, didn't...
When the Matriarch dismissed me - or rather, told me to go and play for an hour or so - I was relived. However, the outcast usually plays on her own, so as always I ended up brooding again.
You see, we were learning the Song of the Nine at school. Not that I dislike the song - although it is a bit embarrassing being a descendent of one of the most famous of the Nine - but that afterwards the class were discussing the rumours about the Nine. According to the rumours, the slaves who held vigil on their deathbeds at the moment of death all vanished.
Our teacher scoffed at the rumours, asking the class if we had never heard of the transfer of slaves and the power of rumour. This is quite true - we have all lost friends due to inter-family transfers.
All the same, I am a little nervous. At least the Song of Visionary doesn't have any horrors in its wake.
* * *
The next visitor (of note, that is) is an alien. The pale skin gives it away. There are actually two of them - a male who seems older than the Matriarch, attended by a female who doesn't seem to be a pleasure slave, body slave (like there's a difference) or Leman. She seems to be a little older than my mother. She certainly isn't polite to the male - for a moment I think that she might have been a Most Honoured Slave, but she then refers to the old male as her brother.
I am more surprised when the Matriarch addresses requests that she and I leave the room. I start to protest that the Matriarch shouldn't be left alone with an ... alien male ... when the female grabs me by the arm and pulls me out of the room.
The moment we hit the curtain in the doorway we also collide with the mass of slaves and servants that were eavesdropping. I am not surprised - after all, an alien visitor is probably more gossip-worthy than a visit by the old Emir (and certainly holds less risk of a flogging). A few choice words from the female alien and the eavesdroppers are on their way. I don't know precisely what the alien phrases she used mean, but they ran away like wild khersks that have strayed too close to a camp fire.
She then guards the door. From her stance you might believe that she would give even the late Lord Vaahir a hard time if he tried to intrude. When I - with some trepidation - repeat my concerns about the Matriarch she rather mysteriously comments that if the old fake didn't touch her then, he wouldn't do it now.
Trying to keep my nerve, I start to hum the Song of Visionary. After a moment I am astonished to hear the alien singing along. Her voice is untrained, but I am surprised that she knows a song of Caph in the first place. When I question her, she explains that she learned it to annoy her brother and amuse her elder sister.
Aliens are very strange.
But it is nice to be able to sing the Song of Visionary with someone. Sometimes I think I am the only person who likes it. Mind you, having to study it at school doesn't help.
* * *
At length we are called back in. The female alien gives the Matriarch a tearful embrace, and then the two aliens take their leave.
The matriarch complements me on my singing, explaining that she had heard our duet outside the room. When I apologise, she merely smiles and notes that her old master was used to it. She then sends me off to get her a drink of chak-lat, an alien drink that she had discovered on her travels.
It is only when I am half-way back to her room with the drink that I realise that she meant "her old master" she had been referring to the male alien, and by extension that the female I had been carelessly singing with was... Well, the younger of the two sisters of the Great Visionary - Keeri - one of the Great Liberators of our world. It's strange. I always pictured them with greener skin.
At this point, my mind being on other things, I walk straight into the housemistress.
The housemistress drags me into the Matriarch's chamber to apologise and promises me one khaskh of a flogging for breaking a valuable off-world drinking vessel. I am treated to the usual long list of my deficiencies and omissions, and informed that it is a wonder that I haven't been passed on to a less deserving family.
The Matriarch just laughs, and orders her to leave me alone. Once the housemistress has left (with her nose out of joint, not that you would notice), the Matriarch explains that the vessel was only one of many to be found in her old master's homeland. She even translated the runes for me. The main House rumour says that it means "Blessings of the Gods unto the Guest of this House". Actually they translate as "My family went to Paradopolis and all I got was this lousy mug".
Aliens are very, very strange.
She also tells me the true story of how the Song of Visionary was written. It's nice to know that the scholars aren't even close.
* * *
It is now late in the night. The vigil starts to weigh heavily on me - the only sleep I get is the odd moments when the Matriarch dozes off, when I can grab a sparse few seconds of sleep for myself.
I wake up from one of those fitful doses. The oil lamps have burned low, and the room is illuminated almost solely by the light of the moons. The silver light gives the room a strange, eldritch feeling. In the silence of the night, the world seems to have become unnaturally still.
Then I realise that we are not alone. At the foot of the Matriarch's bed stands a figure in a grey hooded robe, the hood thrown back to reveal a wrinkled creature with blackened skin and grey hair, leaning on an ornate staff. For one horrific moment I think of the Nomeada of ancient legend, who lurked in the darkness beyond the campfires, waiting to pull the unwary soul to...
As the sleep slowly clears from my mind, I realise that I am not looking at a Nomeada, or anything else from our darkest legends. I am simply looking at an old woman with black skin wearing a white robe - everything else being a trick of the light. Another alien, I assume. Then, just as the fear has drained away, I become aware of something else, some creature lurking in the shadows.
"So, you have come."
The Matriarch sounds weaker now.
Yes. As I came for your sisters, I have come for you.
I can tell that it isn't the dark figure speaking, and I'm not sure that I like the alternative. I feel the fear that had drained away being replaced by terror. Despite this I manage to lurch out of my stool, deftly grab it by one leg and leap across the room to attack the foul creature that has dared to try and steal my Matriarch.
Well, that was the plan, at any rate. Tripping over something in the darkness, bouncing off the Matriarch's bed and landing in a heap on the floor on top of the stool wasn't in the plan. My scream of rage converts into a scream of pain. I gain a few bruises from landing on the flattened remains of a stool.
The dark figure offers me a hand up. Without thinking I accept it and am hauled to my feet. The moonlight glints off my bracelets, and I remember that I have a pair of houri daggers sheathed there. At least, I did - what I appear to have now is two empty hilts.
"Ebony? Are you here too?"
I can barely hear the Matriarch now. Her voice has dropped to a whisper.
"Yes, sister. I have come. My final office to you and my patron. We will take you as far as we can."
Even softer now, my Matriarch says what I can feel will be her final words. "This is Niivia, my granddaughter. She..."
The sentence trails off. Whatever the Matriarch intended to say would remain unsaid, at least to the living.
The alien - Ebony - stands still for a few moments, staring into space as if looking into a different world. Then she turns to face me.
"Niivia?"
I nod, not sure what is going on.
Your Grandmother tells us that you do not fit in here; that you do not understand your worth.
I nod again.
Like her Sisters, she has chosen one in her family that is downtrodden and alone. Her last request is that we teach you your worth. Is this a lesson you want to learn?
I hesitate, then nod again.
"Then take my hand."
Her hand is warm, and I leave behind an empty room.

---

Footnotes:
Caph (the star) is described as 4 times larger and 28 times brighter than Sol. This implies that the habitable zone is further out than ours, and thus the orbital period is longer. If I was in the mood (and had the time) I would have worked it out properly, but being lazy I assumed that it was somewhere between Mars (~2 Earth years) and Jupiter (~12 Earth years), and put the Caphan year as ~3 Earth years. This means that 20 years later on Caph is ~50 - 60 years on Earth.
And if you look back in Untold Tales, the Shoggoth has indeed ushered people to Death's domain.

This was an excellent little story that packed a fair amount of emotion along with the humor. Once you revealed the bloodline, I guessed as to the differences between an Earthling and a Caphan year... It was a clever spin on things. It's a bit sad seeing that Caphans have shorter lifespans on average than do humans... either that, or Vizh really knows how to hang in there.

Either way, a very touching and sweet story... Well done!

> > 20 Years On... > The Question of Right Now: What is life like in the Parodyverse 20 years from now? > Originally posted on Tales of the Parodyverse by Manga Shoggoth. > Parodyverse characters copyright (c) 2007 to their creators. The use of characters and situations reminiscent of other popular works do not constitute a challenge to the copyrights or trademarks of those works. > There is always one in every House. Not devious enough to be a leman, not pretty enough to be a courtesan, not personable enough to become a servant, not stupid enough to be a drudge. Oh yes, and not male enough to be a man. Men have it easy. > The one who just doesn't fit in. That's me. > Well, my teachers comment - when they think I am out of earshot - that if I am going to be a misfit, at least I am in the right house for it. I am Niivia, daughter of Oolay of the Fine Skin by Veltrax the Blonde, son of Vaahir of the house of Viigo. Yes. That Vaahir. > I'm sorry. I am a little on edge at the moment. It's complicated. > Well, not that complicated. Martiarch Kaara is dying, and as a result everyone who knew her (and is still alive) is visiting her deathbed to make their farewells. Since she is the last of the Nine this means that a lot of people decide that they know her. During this, and during the long nights, someone has to hold vigil by the bedside, so I am excused other duties (except school) to take up one of the most boring jobs in existence. It doesn't help that the rumour in the house is that she asked for me specifically. > It's not the Matriarch that worries me, however. I like her, and have always suspected her of being kind, albeit at a distance. It's just that... > Oh Gods. A curse on my eulav spinning. The Emir's Father has turned up and I am not even in a mildly respectful pose. > * * * > Well, that was an experience. The Emir's father is nothing like the figure that appears in the songs. He insisted on me calling him Kiivan rather than Lord Kiivan, didn't have me flogged when I trembled so much that I spilled the drink he requested on his robes, didn't... > When the Matriarch dismissed me - or rather, told me to go and play for an hour or so - I was relived. However, the outcast usually plays on her own, so as always I ended up brooding again. > You see, we were learning the Song of the Nine at school. Not that I dislike the song - although it is a bit embarrassing being a descendent of one of the most famous of the Nine - but that afterwards the class were discussing the rumours about the Nine. According to the rumours, the slaves who held vigil on their deathbeds at the moment of death all vanished. > Our teacher scoffed at the rumours, asking the class if we had never heard of the transfer of slaves and the power of rumour. This is quite true - we have all lost friends due to inter-family transfers. > All the same, I am a little nervous. At least the Song of Visionary doesn't have any horrors in its wake. > * * * > The next visitor (of note, that is) is an alien. The pale skin gives it away. There are actually two of them - a male who seems older than the Matriarch, attended by a female who doesn't seem to be a pleasure slave, body slave (like there's a difference) or Leman. She seems to be a little older than my mother. She certainly isn't polite to the male - for a moment I think that she might have been a Most Honoured Slave, but she then refers to the old male as her brother. > I am more surprised when the Matriarch addresses requests that she and I leave the room. I start to protest that the Matriarch shouldn't be left alone with an ... alien male ... when the female grabs me by the arm and pulls me out of the room. > The moment we hit the curtain in the doorway we also collide with the mass of slaves and servants that were eavesdropping. I am not surprised - after all, an alien visitor is probably more gossip-worthy than a visit by the old Emir (and certainly holds less risk of a flogging). A few choice words from the female alien and the eavesdroppers are on their way. I don't know precisely what the alien phrases she used mean, but they ran away like wild khersks that have strayed too close to a camp fire. > She then guards the door. From her stance you might believe that she would give even the late Lord Vaahir a hard time if he tried to intrude. When I - with some trepidation - repeat my concerns about the Matriarch she rather mysteriously comments that if the old fake didn't touch her then, he wouldn't do it now. > Trying to keep my nerve, I start to hum the Song of Visionary. After a moment I am astonished to hear the alien singing along. Her voice is untrained, but I am surprised that she knows a song of Caph in the first place. When I question her, she explains that she learned it to annoy her brother and amuse her elder sister. > Aliens are very strange. > But it is nice to be able to sing the Song of Visionary with someone. Sometimes I think I am the only person who likes it. Mind you, having to study it at school doesn't help. > * * * > At length we are called back in. The female alien gives the Matriarch a tearful embrace, and then the two aliens take their leave. > The matriarch complements me on my singing, explaining that she had heard our duet outside the room. When I apologise, she merely smiles and notes that her old master was used to it. She then sends me off to get her a drink of chak-lat, an alien drink that she had discovered on her travels. > It is only when I am half-way back to her room with the drink that I realise that she meant "her old master" she had been referring to the male alien, and by extension that the female I had been carelessly singing with was... Well, the younger of the two sisters of the Great Visionary - Keeri - one of the Great Liberators of our world. It's strange. I always pictured them with greener skin. > At this point, my mind being on other things, I walk straight into the housemistress. > The housemistress drags me into the Matriarch's chamber to apologise and promises me one khaskh of a flogging for breaking a valuable off-world drinking vessel. I am treated to the usual long list of my deficiencies and omissions, and informed that it is a wonder that I haven't been passed on to a less deserving family. > The Matriarch just laughs, and orders her to leave me alone. Once the housemistress has left (with her nose out of joint, not that you would notice), the Matriarch explains that the vessel was only one of many to be found in her old master's homeland. She even translated the runes for me. The main House rumour says that it means "Blessings of the Gods unto the Guest of this House". Actually they translate as "My family went to Paradopolis and all I got was this lousy mug". > Aliens are very, very strange. > She also tells me the true story of how the Song of Visionary was written. It's nice to know that the scholars aren't even close. > * * * > It is now late in the night. The vigil starts to weigh heavily on me - the only sleep I get is the odd moments when the Matriarch dozes off, when I can grab a sparse few seconds of sleep for myself. > I wake up from one of those fitful doses. The oil lamps have burned low, and the room is illuminated almost solely by the light of the moons. The silver light gives the room a strange, eldritch feeling. In the silence of the night, the world seems to have become unnaturally still. > Then I realise that we are not alone. At the foot of the Matriarch's bed stands a figure in a grey hooded robe, the hood thrown back to reveal a wrinkled creature with blackened skin and grey hair, leaning on an ornate staff. For one horrific moment I think of the Nomeada of ancient legend, who lurked in the darkness beyond the campfires, waiting to pull the unwary soul to... > As the sleep slowly clears from my mind, I realise that I am not looking at a Nomeada, or anything else from our darkest legends. I am simply looking at an old woman with black skin wearing a white robe - everything else being a trick of the light. Another alien, I assume. Then, just as the fear has drained away, I become aware of something else, some creature lurking in the shadows. > "So, you have come." > The Matriarch sounds weaker now. > Yes. As I came for your sisters, I have come for you. > I can tell that it isn't the dark figure speaking, and I'm not sure that I like the alternative. I feel the fear that had drained away being replaced by terror. Despite this I manage to lurch out of my stool, deftly grab it by one leg and leap across the room to attack the foul creature that has dared to try and steal my Matriarch. > Well, that was the plan, at any rate. Tripping over something in the darkness, bouncing off the Matriarch's bed and landing in a heap on the floor on top of the stool wasn't in the plan. My scream of rage converts into a scream of pain. I gain a few bruises from landing on the flattened remains of a stool. > The dark figure offers me a hand up. Without thinking I accept it and am hauled to my feet. The moonlight glints off my bracelets, and I remember that I have a pair of houri daggers sheathed there. At least, I did - what I appear to have now is two empty hilts. > "Ebony? Are you here too?" > I can barely hear the Matriarch now. Her voice has dropped to a whisper. > "Yes, sister. I have come. My final office to you and my patron. We will take you as far as we can." > Even softer now, my Matriarch says what I can feel will be her final words. "This is Niivia, my granddaughter. She..." > The sentence trails off. Whatever the Matriarch intended to say would remain unsaid, at least to the living. > The alien - Ebony - stands still for a few moments, staring into space as if looking into a different world. Then she turns to face me. > "Niivia?" > I nod, not sure what is going on. > Your Grandmother tells us that you do not fit in here; that you do not understand your worth. > I nod again. > Like her Sisters, she has chosen one in her family that is downtrodden and alone. Her last request is that we teach you your worth. Is this a lesson you want to learn? > I hesitate, then nod again. > "Then take my hand." > Her hand is warm, and I leave behind an empty room. > > Footnotes: > Caph (the star) is described as 4 times larger and 28 times brighter than Sol. This implies that the habitable zone is further out than ours, and thus the orbital period is longer. If I was in the mood (and had the time) I would have worked it out properly, but being lazy I assumed that it was somewhere between Mars (~2 Earth years) and Jupiter (~12 Earth years), and put the Caphan year as ~3 Earth years. This means that 20 years later on Caph is ~50 - 60 years on Earth. > And if you look back in Untold Tales, the Shoggoth has indeed ushered people to Death's domain. >

Interestingly, I had the idea before the QORN went up.

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> .

You have a real feel for these alternate perspective stories. I'ts become your trademark. The skill serves you especially well in this tale, and it offers a moving and powerful closure.

I did the Caphan celestial maths too and mentioned somewhere that a Caphan year is roughly four human ones. Most of the Nine Caphans were four or five when they were sold offworld.

As I read your story I was reminded by how many Caph-specific words you'd remembered or created that we really need a Caph lexicon. If you have the time and inclination to do a quick trawl through the literature sometime it would be useful to gather together the main Caphan words we've established in one single reference resource.

Of course, that would also show up the times where I've used variant spellings for everything from Caphan/Caphean to plas gar.

I'm flattered.


I did have a quick look, but couldn't find any of the details. After spending about half an hour working out relative intensities and then plugging the results back into Kelper's Law I decided to wing it. I never did like the inverse square law...


I'll have a look at it some time. I'm more or less bound to get bored at work some time in the future.


A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds.

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