The Betrothed
for National Novel Writing Month
Day 6
One week later, Darrick sat in a comfortable padded seat in the first class section of a passenger jet, watching through the window as the clouds passed far below him. Despite the serenity of the view, he couldn’t find the relaxation he craved, that he so needed after the busiest, most mentally-exhausting week of his life. Somehow, he had managed to keep all the study dates he had already arranged, and felt confident that he had performed adequately on his finals – well enough to not be embarrassed when he returned to school anyway – but every other second of his time had been filled with his mother’s comprehensive, extremely compressed Atlantean education. History, culture, traditions – everything she thought he needed to not make a complete fool of himself during the upcoming ceremonies. The frontal lob of his brain ached with the overload of information.
One thing that could be said of his accelerated education is that it had kept the friction between himself and his mother to a minimum. All his concentration had gone into just learning whatever was thrown at him, without any left over to give thought to all the philosophical and personal questions raised by the situation that necessitated his learning of them. Now that the trial by fire had passed, however, his earlier doubts and fears and objections were returning, accompanied by all new anxieties. What his father had told him during that that night-time conversation had stayed in the back of his mind, both what he had said about his mother and about the attitude of the other Atlanteans. I would have never thought that she was happy; she seems even more irritated than normal. Maybe she’s just that scared I’m going to screw up. And if the other Atlanteans are that obsessed with bloodline and tradition, I suppose I can see why. But if I’ll never be able to satisfy all of them, why are we even bothering? I’m damned if I don’t, surely, but it seems as though I’m already damned to most of them no matter what, just for being what I am. What kind of people think like that? How can people living in the 21st century, in America no less, still hold on to such a medieval attitude? And she wants me to marry one of them! Well, I’ve got my out; I say ‘no’ and the whole thing’s off. Her word on it. Despite the fact that he didn’t see himself letting the thing go on for more two seconds after this “Presentation” was over, the thought of meeting the girl his mother had intended for him to marry still caused his heart to skip a beat, a reaction that continued to annoy him. Stop it! he said to himself. Nothing’s going to happen. You’re going to make sure nothing happens. Do you really want something to happen with this girl? She’s probably ashamed to be betrothed to you. Just end it as soon as possible and get back to your life. Sure, it’s been turned upside-down, but it’s still yours, no strings attached.
Making the situation even more complicated, Darrick found to his annoyance that his thoughts flowed more and more in the Atlantean language. That had been his mother’s first lesson, the morning of his first day as her student – to be an Atlantean, he had to think like an Atlantean, and that meant knowing the language.
“. . . so from now on,” she had began, “I will speak with you in nothing but Atlantean. You need to get used to it; when you marry, this will be the everyday language of your home. We speak English when dealing with the outside world, but the home language of every Atlantean is Atlantean.”
“How am I supposed to understand your lessons when I don’t even understand the language?” he had asked, incredulous. His mother smirked.
“Darrick, I started speaking Atlantean to you yesterday.”
“What?”
“Darrick, what you think of as language is a travesty. Random sounds, assigned meanings completely unrelated to their true nature. It’s a wonder anyone can speak them at all. Atlantean is something much more natural, much more beautiful. Atlantean is true language, language where every word is the natural auditory representation of its meaning. A word in Atlantean contains the essence of what it describes. It is the first language of mankind, before Babel, now lost to everyone save us. But the mind still knows it and recognizes it. The English words you think you are hearing is just your mind interpreting the concepts the Atlantean words are conveying.”
“So if I’m hearing it as English, how am I supposed to learn to speak it?”
“Concentrate. Listen closely to what I’m saying. Don’t just accept what you think you hear, but really pay attention to the sounds I am making. Do it.”
Darrick had tried to follow the instructions as his mother continued to speak. At first, he had not been able to discern any difference in what she had said. Just as he was about to give up in frustration, though, it had come through; his mother’s familiar words had transmuted into alien sounds. And yet, not completely alien. Even though he had never heard them before, he had found he could still understand them. The sensation had been bizarre, shocking, but also exhilarating. For an instant, all his resentment had faded away, replaced with awe and excitement over the entire new world that was being opened up to him. The sensation had not lasted – the effort of keeping up with finals and his own special home-schooling had swallowed up every other emotion – but even now he could look back on it as a bright spot in his memory.
“This is the secret to what your father calls Atlantean magic,” she had continued. “You’ve probably heard old stories about how knowing an object’s or a person’s true name is the key to power over them. That’s not entirely true, but there is a kernel of reality to it. Naming what you wish in true language can influence the workings of the universe itself. There’s more to it than just saying what you want, of course; there has to be a certain amount of precision, a proper phrasing. I don’t know exactly; I never studied to be a priest. But I definitely know that your father’s term of ‘magic’ is woefully inadequate, if not just outright insulting. But all that aside, there are other advantages to the Atlantean language. Atlantean has precision and shades of meaning impossible in other languages; you can say exactly what is on your mind, express the exact thought you wish, with no ambiguity. Misunderstandings do not happen in Atlantean. And I will have you fluent in it by your Presentation.”
The thought of learning an entire language in a week had been incredibly daunting, but it had proven surprisingly easy. In fact, it had felt less like learning and more like remembering something long forgotten. Now, it had insinuated itself into his thought processes to the point where he had to make an effort to think in English. He made the effort, though. It was his own small rebellion, his own little struggle to retain something of his own identity, to resist assimilation. Resistance will not be futile.
Resistance or no, though, he was still sitting in an airplane flying over the Rockies, to a remote mountain manor where he would meet the girl who planned to take over his life. Even the seat was the property of her family; they had paid for the first class accommodations, a gift to the prospective groom. At least I managed to get a seat on the opposite side of the plane from my parents. They were seated across the aisle on his right, very studiously ignoring each other, his father reading, his mother staring out the window, lost in her own thoughts. Darrick felt that this was as far away as he had been from his mother for an entire week, and the closest he had been to his father. His father had faded into the background this week, and Darrick couldn’t help but feel abandoned, as though his father had given him up to his mother’s world. Well, I’m no one’s to give or receive. I’ll make my own decisions as to whose world in which I wish to live. Even though he was about to fly headfirst into a very different world than the one which he had chosen.
Their ultimate destination was an old house high up in the Rocky Mountains, a house built by and for the Atlanteans. According to his mother, the Atlantean community had come to the Americas early on, seeking to find their own land and live openly in their own community, for the first time in the millennia since Atlantis had sank. But their dream, a dream of a New Atlantis, had never come to fruition; there had always been other settlers, other people nearby who would not understand, who would seek to hunt them down and drive them out. Or so the Atlanteans had believed. But whether their beliefs were correct or simply the result of paranoia, they had never come out of hiding, and the only remnant of their grand dream was an enormous manor house in the mountains, which now served as their cultural center. Most Atlantean families lived near each other within driving distance of this central mansion. They used it for religious gatherings, councils, and other ceremonies, such as weddings. Within this house, Atlantean law reigned, Atlantean culture was supreme; and the ten Houses apparently had the resources to make sure it remained so. As soon as they set down in Denver, they would drive up there to meet his fiancée’s family, and the Presentation would take place that very night. Over the next two weeks, all ten Houses would converge there for his wedding, a house filled with strange people he didn’t know, all with their own expectations and prejudices about him. He was the last heir of a noble House, and his marriage was of great import; even his person was a matter of great speculation and interest. Just the anticipation of all the attention – both positive and negative – was enough to make him want to shrink in on himself slightly.
A shudder passed throughout the plane, and Darrick felt himself being pressed forward. We’ve landed. Time to brace myself indeed.
for National Novel Writing Month
Day 6
One week later, Darrick sat in a comfortable padded seat in the first class section of a passenger jet, watching through the window as the clouds passed far below him. Despite the serenity of the view, he couldn’t find the relaxation he craved, that he so needed after the busiest, most mentally-exhausting week of his life. Somehow, he had managed to keep all the study dates he had already arranged, and felt confident that he had performed adequately on his finals – well enough to not be embarrassed when he returned to school anyway – but every other second of his time had been filled with his mother’s comprehensive, extremely compressed Atlantean education. History, culture, traditions – everything she thought he needed to not make a complete fool of himself during the upcoming ceremonies. The frontal lob of his brain ached with the overload of information.
One thing that could be said of his accelerated education is that it had kept the friction between himself and his mother to a minimum. All his concentration had gone into just learning whatever was thrown at him, without any left over to give thought to all the philosophical and personal questions raised by the situation that necessitated his learning of them. Now that the trial by fire had passed, however, his earlier doubts and fears and objections were returning, accompanied by all new anxieties. What his father had told him during that that night-time conversation had stayed in the back of his mind, both what he had said about his mother and about the attitude of the other Atlanteans. I would have never thought that she was happy; she seems even more irritated than normal. Maybe she’s just that scared I’m going to screw up. And if the other Atlanteans are that obsessed with bloodline and tradition, I suppose I can see why. But if I’ll never be able to satisfy all of them, why are we even bothering? I’m damned if I don’t, surely, but it seems as though I’m already damned to most of them no matter what, just for being what I am. What kind of people think like that? How can people living in the 21st century, in America no less, still hold on to such a medieval attitude? And she wants me to marry one of them! Well, I’ve got my out; I say ‘no’ and the whole thing’s off. Her word on it. Despite the fact that he didn’t see himself letting the thing go on for more two seconds after this “Presentation” was over, the thought of meeting the girl his mother had intended for him to marry still caused his heart to skip a beat, a reaction that continued to annoy him. Stop it! he said to himself. Nothing’s going to happen. You’re going to make sure nothing happens. Do you really want something to happen with this girl? She’s probably ashamed to be betrothed to you. Just end it as soon as possible and get back to your life. Sure, it’s been turned upside-down, but it’s still yours, no strings attached.
Making the situation even more complicated, Darrick found to his annoyance that his thoughts flowed more and more in the Atlantean language. That had been his mother’s first lesson, the morning of his first day as her student – to be an Atlantean, he had to think like an Atlantean, and that meant knowing the language.
“. . . so from now on,” she had began, “I will speak with you in nothing but Atlantean. You need to get used to it; when you marry, this will be the everyday language of your home. We speak English when dealing with the outside world, but the home language of every Atlantean is Atlantean.”
“How am I supposed to understand your lessons when I don’t even understand the language?” he had asked, incredulous. His mother smirked.
“Darrick, I started speaking Atlantean to you yesterday.”
“What?”
“Darrick, what you think of as language is a travesty. Random sounds, assigned meanings completely unrelated to their true nature. It’s a wonder anyone can speak them at all. Atlantean is something much more natural, much more beautiful. Atlantean is true language, language where every word is the natural auditory representation of its meaning. A word in Atlantean contains the essence of what it describes. It is the first language of mankind, before Babel, now lost to everyone save us. But the mind still knows it and recognizes it. The English words you think you are hearing is just your mind interpreting the concepts the Atlantean words are conveying.”
“So if I’m hearing it as English, how am I supposed to learn to speak it?”
“Concentrate. Listen closely to what I’m saying. Don’t just accept what you think you hear, but really pay attention to the sounds I am making. Do it.”
Darrick had tried to follow the instructions as his mother continued to speak. At first, he had not been able to discern any difference in what she had said. Just as he was about to give up in frustration, though, it had come through; his mother’s familiar words had transmuted into alien sounds. And yet, not completely alien. Even though he had never heard them before, he had found he could still understand them. The sensation had been bizarre, shocking, but also exhilarating. For an instant, all his resentment had faded away, replaced with awe and excitement over the entire new world that was being opened up to him. The sensation had not lasted – the effort of keeping up with finals and his own special home-schooling had swallowed up every other emotion – but even now he could look back on it as a bright spot in his memory.
“This is the secret to what your father calls Atlantean magic,” she had continued. “You’ve probably heard old stories about how knowing an object’s or a person’s true name is the key to power over them. That’s not entirely true, but there is a kernel of reality to it. Naming what you wish in true language can influence the workings of the universe itself. There’s more to it than just saying what you want, of course; there has to be a certain amount of precision, a proper phrasing. I don’t know exactly; I never studied to be a priest. But I definitely know that your father’s term of ‘magic’ is woefully inadequate, if not just outright insulting. But all that aside, there are other advantages to the Atlantean language. Atlantean has precision and shades of meaning impossible in other languages; you can say exactly what is on your mind, express the exact thought you wish, with no ambiguity. Misunderstandings do not happen in Atlantean. And I will have you fluent in it by your Presentation.”
The thought of learning an entire language in a week had been incredibly daunting, but it had proven surprisingly easy. In fact, it had felt less like learning and more like remembering something long forgotten. Now, it had insinuated itself into his thought processes to the point where he had to make an effort to think in English. He made the effort, though. It was his own small rebellion, his own little struggle to retain something of his own identity, to resist assimilation. Resistance will not be futile.
Resistance or no, though, he was still sitting in an airplane flying over the Rockies, to a remote mountain manor where he would meet the girl who planned to take over his life. Even the seat was the property of her family; they had paid for the first class accommodations, a gift to the prospective groom. At least I managed to get a seat on the opposite side of the plane from my parents. They were seated across the aisle on his right, very studiously ignoring each other, his father reading, his mother staring out the window, lost in her own thoughts. Darrick felt that this was as far away as he had been from his mother for an entire week, and the closest he had been to his father. His father had faded into the background this week, and Darrick couldn’t help but feel abandoned, as though his father had given him up to his mother’s world. Well, I’m no one’s to give or receive. I’ll make my own decisions as to whose world in which I wish to live. Even though he was about to fly headfirst into a very different world than the one which he had chosen.
Their ultimate destination was an old house high up in the Rocky Mountains, a house built by and for the Atlanteans. According to his mother, the Atlantean community had come to the Americas early on, seeking to find their own land and live openly in their own community, for the first time in the millennia since Atlantis had sank. But their dream, a dream of a New Atlantis, had never come to fruition; there had always been other settlers, other people nearby who would not understand, who would seek to hunt them down and drive them out. Or so the Atlanteans had believed. But whether their beliefs were correct or simply the result of paranoia, they had never come out of hiding, and the only remnant of their grand dream was an enormous manor house in the mountains, which now served as their cultural center. Most Atlantean families lived near each other within driving distance of this central mansion. They used it for religious gatherings, councils, and other ceremonies, such as weddings. Within this house, Atlantean law reigned, Atlantean culture was supreme; and the ten Houses apparently had the resources to make sure it remained so. As soon as they set down in Denver, they would drive up there to meet his fiancée’s family, and the Presentation would take place that very night. Over the next two weeks, all ten Houses would converge there for his wedding, a house filled with strange people he didn’t know, all with their own expectations and prejudices about him. He was the last heir of a noble House, and his marriage was of great import; even his person was a matter of great speculation and interest. Just the anticipation of all the attention – both positive and negative – was enough to make him want to shrink in on himself slightly.
A shudder passed throughout the plane, and Darrick felt himself being pressed forward. We’ve landed. Time to brace myself indeed.
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