15min fic #91
Jan. 25th, 2005 12:59 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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yrae
Title~ Rizon pi Salas
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Still~ mine
Notes~ 15 minute fic, word 91. Yay for making up languages =D
~ ~ ~
Nimay frowned down at the foreign script on the parchment in front of her, twisting her quill between her fingers, trying to have it make some sort of sense. Why the army saw it imperative that its recruits all knew basic Kazinian, Llayan and Tsaythi, she would never know. They were warriors, not diplomats. It wasn’t as though Nimay would be able to talk to them anyway.
She sighed heavily and dropped the quill on the parchment, stretching and looking up at the ceiling, longing to get a sword hilt, or even a bow, in her hands again.
Nol nudged her and brought her paper between the two of them, pointing to the words as he spoke them them.
“Rizon pi Salas,” he said slowly, then translated. “Call me Salas. My name is Salas.” He raised his eyebrows at her in question. “Make sense?”
Nimay stared at the foreign script, shaking her head. It was hard enough having Raykinian letters make sounds in her head, let alone Kazin’s jagged lettering.
“Pi zeh iz shool zelan Kazinian,” Nolryn continued, “I will be a Kazinian horse archer.”
Nimay shook her head again, more certainly, and pushed the parchment away. The spoken words she understood well enough, even with Nol’s terrible pronunciation. She was confident she knew enough of the language to at least make her way around the northern kingdom. It was only when the spoken words were transferred to parchment that she was at a loss.
It was difficult trying to translate the letter first to its Raykinian equivalent—which was no easy task when the Kazinian language was filled with sounds that didn’t exist in Raykinian—then translate those letters into sounds, and finally translate the foreign word into the local equivalent. It was far easier to just go from the spoken Kazinian to spoken Raykinian.
She folded her arms and frowned blankly at the desk, trying to think how to explain the problem to her friend.
“It’s the characters, isn’t it?”
Nimay nodded, smiling inwardly at the training archer’s perceptiveness.
The prince began fishing around in his pile of papers, finally drawing out one tatty, dog-eared sheet that he handed to Nimay. It was a table, linking all the Kazinian letters with the closest Raykinian sound.
“This should help,” he told her. “Stare at that for an hour or so every night and it should sink in.” He pointed to the four extras down the bottom that didn’t match to any Raykinian letter. “Those are all the hissy ones. Just thank Lin that you, at least, will never have to try and pronounce them.”
Nimay grinned and pressed her hands together in thanks. At least there was one who spoke her language.
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Still~ mine
Notes~ 15 minute fic, word 91. Yay for making up languages =D
Nimay frowned down at the foreign script on the parchment in front of her, twisting her quill between her fingers, trying to have it make some sort of sense. Why the army saw it imperative that its recruits all knew basic Kazinian, Llayan and Tsaythi, she would never know. They were warriors, not diplomats. It wasn’t as though Nimay would be able to talk to them anyway.
She sighed heavily and dropped the quill on the parchment, stretching and looking up at the ceiling, longing to get a sword hilt, or even a bow, in her hands again.
Nol nudged her and brought her paper between the two of them, pointing to the words as he spoke them them.
“Rizon pi Salas,” he said slowly, then translated. “Call me Salas. My name is Salas.” He raised his eyebrows at her in question. “Make sense?”
Nimay stared at the foreign script, shaking her head. It was hard enough having Raykinian letters make sounds in her head, let alone Kazin’s jagged lettering.
“Pi zeh iz shool zelan Kazinian,” Nolryn continued, “I will be a Kazinian horse archer.”
Nimay shook her head again, more certainly, and pushed the parchment away. The spoken words she understood well enough, even with Nol’s terrible pronunciation. She was confident she knew enough of the language to at least make her way around the northern kingdom. It was only when the spoken words were transferred to parchment that she was at a loss.
It was difficult trying to translate the letter first to its Raykinian equivalent—which was no easy task when the Kazinian language was filled with sounds that didn’t exist in Raykinian—then translate those letters into sounds, and finally translate the foreign word into the local equivalent. It was far easier to just go from the spoken Kazinian to spoken Raykinian.
She folded her arms and frowned blankly at the desk, trying to think how to explain the problem to her friend.
“It’s the characters, isn’t it?”
Nimay nodded, smiling inwardly at the training archer’s perceptiveness.
The prince began fishing around in his pile of papers, finally drawing out one tatty, dog-eared sheet that he handed to Nimay. It was a table, linking all the Kazinian letters with the closest Raykinian sound.
“This should help,” he told her. “Stare at that for an hour or so every night and it should sink in.” He pointed to the four extras down the bottom that didn’t match to any Raykinian letter. “Those are all the hissy ones. Just thank Lin that you, at least, will never have to try and pronounce them.”
Nimay grinned and pressed her hands together in thanks. At least there was one who spoke her language.