Green Rider
Page 16
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
Karigan did not believe moonbeams could be captured, but she could not explain how light flowed from the crystal. She held onto it for a time, allowing the heat to soothe her.
The lap harp drew her attention next. It was as old as anything she had seen in the museums in Selium, and ornate enough to satisfy any royal. She strummed the gold strings, and was stunned by its true tones and human voice. Single strings produced perfectly pitched individual voices; combined strings sang in unearthly harmonies. It was like having the Selium Chorale right in the room with her.
I bet Estral would like this.
Karigan wasn’t proficient at playing any instrument, but no matter which string she struck, the harp made her sound like a master. The beauty of it kept her playing at great length. Every object in the room resonated around her. The light in the crystal brightened, and the little sailors sat or stood in an attitude of listening, their ship becalmed in a mirrorlike sea. Karigan shivered and detached herself from the instrument. The whole room seemed to dim and sag in disappointment.
The shadows grew long outside, and as dusk fell and darkened into night, pinpoints of starlight dotted the sky. The glow of the fire, which never needed stoking, and the crystal kept the library light and cheery. There were other objects on the table, but Karigan refrained from touching another. Everything was strange.
Instead, she turned her attention to the shelves. Despite the absence of Professor Berry, there wasn’t a speck of dust on the books. Obviously they were still treasured and well cared for. She ran her forefinger along the spines of the books; they smelled faintly of leather and ink, but without a hint of mustiness. There were books covering all angles of Sacoridian history from The Foundation of the Sacor Clans to The House of Hillander: A Guide to Practical Monarchy in Our Times.
A large section was devoted to Rhovanny. One intriguing book was titled The Architecture of the Royal House of Rhove Illustrated. Karigan’s father had once been to the castle in Randann and had described to her the wonders of the king’s house. In the book, she found handpainted illustrations of some of the details he had described, such as the roof of the castle which reflected light like the corona of the sun. In the old days, the effects revealed the sun goddess’ favor of the royal family to the common folk. The book disclosed the roof to be tiled by thousands of mirrors.
Some tomes were so old that the words were hand-inked in a script Karigan found agonizing, or impossible, to decipher. Many were in strange languages, or ancient versions of modern languages.
One such book was titled Translations from Ancient Eltish. Eltish was, or had once been, the language of the Eletians. She thumbed through the volume. The lettering, printed in fair Eletian characters, shimmered in the light of the crystal. She pronounced words which had been translated phonetically into the Common, and the harp hummed with each syllable she spoke. She hastily closed the book and shelved it.
Undaunted, Karigan climbed a ladder which rolled along the stacks on runners. She found books on the arts and sciences. One row was devoted to the arcane arts. When she opened one of the books, she found only blank pages. No wonder magic was arcane!
The rest of the books on the shelves seemed rather dull. Several dealt with etiquette, and she doubted they had belonged to Professor Berry’s original collection.
She left the stacks and paced around. She stretched taut muscles as she walked. Too many days in the saddle, and too many nights on the ground. The floor creaked beneath her feet, and she wondered when Miss Bunchberry would return for her.
She paused when the telescope caught her eye again. It gleamed more gold than brass in the flickering firelight, and aroused her curiosity. It was a rare opportunity for her to look at the stars. At school, the star masters hoarded the looking pieces, allowing only a special few to gaze through. She bent over and peered through the eyepiece.
Stars streaked across the lens as she adjusted the scope’s position and focus. She located the Sword of Sevelon, a constellation of seven stars in the shape of a cross like a sword, and nearly as easy to find as the Ladle. The scope’s range was amazing. Only the scopes in Selium’s observatory compared in distance and clarity.
Legend had it that a great hero by the name of Sevelon had once served the god and goddess by attending to their affairs on earth, and dispensed justice as the immortals saw fit. In popular legend, Sevelon often manipulated events so they benefited her fellow mortals, and kept the immortals humble. After many lifetimes of good work, Aeryc and Aeryon rewarded Sevelon by allowing her to ascend the crystal staircase to the heavens to dwell with the immortals among the stars.
When she reached the final landing, she cast her sword aside for all time, and it could now be seen still tumbling across the night sky. It was dominant in spring, the sword tipped up in the “salute” position, and as the seasons progressed into early winter, the sword spiraled until the tip was planted downward in the “warrior at rest” position. The sword then left the skies, only to emerge large and brilliant again the following spring.
Interestingly, Sacoridian legend depicted Sevelon as female, while Rhovan legend characterized her as male, despite the fact that a female statue of Sevelon stood in the great hall of the king in Randann. Whether male or female, Sevelon’s exploits served as stories with morals told to the children of both countries. Sevelon was depicted as knightly, courageous, and good, while the god and goddess were depicted as capricious, using humanity to suit their own whims. Karigan had often wondered if Sevelon was as pure as the stories made her out to be.
The lap harp drew her attention next. It was as old as anything she had seen in the museums in Selium, and ornate enough to satisfy any royal. She strummed the gold strings, and was stunned by its true tones and human voice. Single strings produced perfectly pitched individual voices; combined strings sang in unearthly harmonies. It was like having the Selium Chorale right in the room with her.
I bet Estral would like this.
Karigan wasn’t proficient at playing any instrument, but no matter which string she struck, the harp made her sound like a master. The beauty of it kept her playing at great length. Every object in the room resonated around her. The light in the crystal brightened, and the little sailors sat or stood in an attitude of listening, their ship becalmed in a mirrorlike sea. Karigan shivered and detached herself from the instrument. The whole room seemed to dim and sag in disappointment.
The shadows grew long outside, and as dusk fell and darkened into night, pinpoints of starlight dotted the sky. The glow of the fire, which never needed stoking, and the crystal kept the library light and cheery. There were other objects on the table, but Karigan refrained from touching another. Everything was strange.
Instead, she turned her attention to the shelves. Despite the absence of Professor Berry, there wasn’t a speck of dust on the books. Obviously they were still treasured and well cared for. She ran her forefinger along the spines of the books; they smelled faintly of leather and ink, but without a hint of mustiness. There were books covering all angles of Sacoridian history from The Foundation of the Sacor Clans to The House of Hillander: A Guide to Practical Monarchy in Our Times.
A large section was devoted to Rhovanny. One intriguing book was titled The Architecture of the Royal House of Rhove Illustrated. Karigan’s father had once been to the castle in Randann and had described to her the wonders of the king’s house. In the book, she found handpainted illustrations of some of the details he had described, such as the roof of the castle which reflected light like the corona of the sun. In the old days, the effects revealed the sun goddess’ favor of the royal family to the common folk. The book disclosed the roof to be tiled by thousands of mirrors.
Some tomes were so old that the words were hand-inked in a script Karigan found agonizing, or impossible, to decipher. Many were in strange languages, or ancient versions of modern languages.
One such book was titled Translations from Ancient Eltish. Eltish was, or had once been, the language of the Eletians. She thumbed through the volume. The lettering, printed in fair Eletian characters, shimmered in the light of the crystal. She pronounced words which had been translated phonetically into the Common, and the harp hummed with each syllable she spoke. She hastily closed the book and shelved it.
Undaunted, Karigan climbed a ladder which rolled along the stacks on runners. She found books on the arts and sciences. One row was devoted to the arcane arts. When she opened one of the books, she found only blank pages. No wonder magic was arcane!
The rest of the books on the shelves seemed rather dull. Several dealt with etiquette, and she doubted they had belonged to Professor Berry’s original collection.
She left the stacks and paced around. She stretched taut muscles as she walked. Too many days in the saddle, and too many nights on the ground. The floor creaked beneath her feet, and she wondered when Miss Bunchberry would return for her.
She paused when the telescope caught her eye again. It gleamed more gold than brass in the flickering firelight, and aroused her curiosity. It was a rare opportunity for her to look at the stars. At school, the star masters hoarded the looking pieces, allowing only a special few to gaze through. She bent over and peered through the eyepiece.
Stars streaked across the lens as she adjusted the scope’s position and focus. She located the Sword of Sevelon, a constellation of seven stars in the shape of a cross like a sword, and nearly as easy to find as the Ladle. The scope’s range was amazing. Only the scopes in Selium’s observatory compared in distance and clarity.
Legend had it that a great hero by the name of Sevelon had once served the god and goddess by attending to their affairs on earth, and dispensed justice as the immortals saw fit. In popular legend, Sevelon often manipulated events so they benefited her fellow mortals, and kept the immortals humble. After many lifetimes of good work, Aeryc and Aeryon rewarded Sevelon by allowing her to ascend the crystal staircase to the heavens to dwell with the immortals among the stars.
When she reached the final landing, she cast her sword aside for all time, and it could now be seen still tumbling across the night sky. It was dominant in spring, the sword tipped up in the “salute” position, and as the seasons progressed into early winter, the sword spiraled until the tip was planted downward in the “warrior at rest” position. The sword then left the skies, only to emerge large and brilliant again the following spring.
Interestingly, Sacoridian legend depicted Sevelon as female, while Rhovan legend characterized her as male, despite the fact that a female statue of Sevelon stood in the great hall of the king in Randann. Whether male or female, Sevelon’s exploits served as stories with morals told to the children of both countries. Sevelon was depicted as knightly, courageous, and good, while the god and goddess were depicted as capricious, using humanity to suit their own whims. Karigan had often wondered if Sevelon was as pure as the stories made her out to be.
