“Temperature doesn’t come into it,” Khasekhemwy replied, bemused, when Danny exclaimed that the glyphs were cold. What an odd inference to draw. The next questions were disappointingly dull, particularly when one considered how brightly Danny had shone only a moment before. “There are different grammatical constructions, as in English,” he explained, raising an eyebrow slightly. “You might find that ‘the quail ate the worm’ or that ‘the worm was eaten by the quail’, or that the worm was actually a metaphor, or that there was indeed a worm and a quail but they were friends in a fairytale. Never assume you can understand the content of a sentence in the ancient language simply because it is pictorial. It is composed of pictures, yes, but it is a real language, as you will demonstrate shortly by speaking it.”
He frowned in absent-minded confusion when his student blushed and made an odd noise, something between a cough and a giggle, recognising the emotion as embarrassment or amusement (or possibly both) but not understanding what might have prompted it. The last time Khase had taught small children, they ascended to adulthood at the age of twelve and began training in apprenticeships long before then, so they had all lost the innocence which came with finding a dirty word funny. These modern boys were odd.
Fortunately the oddity passed quickly, and Danny reverted to his wide-eyed look of wonder as Khase explained the meaning behind rens. At his student’s last question he at first only nodded, taking another sip of his sahlab, but recognised the enquiring tone as an afterthought. Did Danny really not know the origin of that term? It surprised Khasekhemwy, who couldn’t remember the last time he had conversed with someone who didn’t have at least a basic grasp of the ancient language, and he blinked several times in quick succession. Clearly, there was a lot he had to teach here.
“Yes, it is a generic term,” he gave Danny a curious look, unsure how this generic term amongst fairies was not so generic in Shaman. “Not quite technically accurate, of course, but…” He sighed. “The original fairies have no parents, Danny. None of us are sons or daughters. We were not born. We were formed from pure stardust: the matter which is expelled when a star dies. Stardust is the origin of all known magic. Many, many thousands of years ago, magic in its purest form, divinity, built a consciousness around itself to form the first fairy: Aura. It is… unclear, whether the other originals were formed in the same way, or whether she created the rest of us.” He gazed unblinkingly across at the young boy. “It has commonly been stated in folklore, therefore, that the original fairies are the children of the stars. A male original fairy is known as a ‘son of the stars’, sebauza or za’ensebau, and a female original fairy is known as a ‘daughter of the stars’, sebauzat or zatensebau. It is acceptable to use one of these terms when referring to an original fairy. It is better, however, to use the term seba’iqer, meaning ‘excellent star’, which has a connotation of respect attached. If you are ever unsure how to address a deity, the gender neutral seba’iqer will never be met with a poor reception.
“The best way to address a deity is in their native tongue. So you call me sayedy, you would call Lorraine ledi, Allianah sitt, Gwythr signore, and so on. If you are able to use a person’s own language when addressing them then it is always right to do so, and they will appreciate your attempt even if you stumble on the pronunciation.
“It is culturally rude to call a deity by their name until you are given permission to do so.” He paused to take another sip of sahlab. “Different originals will be more or less inclined to invite you to use their name. I know that Mallos wouldn’t be remotely offended if you used his name from the start, but Lorraine would strike you down for daring to. If you must refer to another deity who is either present or not present when you are in the company of another deity, the generally accepted thing to do is use an epithet. I will teach you at least one polite epithet in the ancient language for each of the deities. If you ever forget them, an English substitute will do at a pinch.” He set the mug back down on the coffee table. “If you were speaking to another deity about your lessons with me, you would, for example, say that you were taking instruction from the zekhau.” He paused, and added as a translation, “ ‘the Scribe’.”
khasekhemwy
patron deity of palestine
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