Word: Elucubrate

 

 

elucubrate

[ ih-loo-kyoo-breyt ]

verb (used with object)

elucubrated, elucubrating.

1. to produce (especially literary work) by long and intensive effort.

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It was done. It was finally done. It had taken Cole several days of long, tiring work, but it was finally finished. He held it up, eyes shining, even with the sweat that dripped down his forehead. His first sword. The first real blade he had ever forged with his own efforts. 

He rushed to find his teacher. The massive man was pouring over an anvil. There was no hot metal to be seen anywhere to be seen, which meant the man was busy planning his next piece.  

“Master, I’ve finished.” Cole said. His teacher slowly turned and held out a heavily callused hand.  

Cole handed the weapon over. His teacher examined the blade with a critical eye. 

“What is your assessment of this sword?” He said in a voice as heavy as the anvil he stood in front of. 

Cole knew lying would only hurt him later. “It’s bad. Very bad. It’s not even, both in shape and sharpness. The thickness isn’t quite right, as it’s too thick for the size of the blade. Also, I’m pretty sure the hilt doesn’t fit quite right, but I haven’t tested that out fully yet. But it works. It’s identifiable as a functioning sword. It’ll cut and won’t immediately break. It will eventually, of course, but it’ll last through several fights if properly maintained.” 

“If you were to sell it, what would you charge?” 

Cole thought about that. “I wouldn’t sell it. Nobody but the most desperate of warriors would even consider it. And even then, I couldn’t charge much. Maybe a copper more than the iron cost to buy.” 

His teacher set the crude iron weapon on the anvil. He turned to Cole. His face was broad and flat, and there was never a smile on his lips. But Cole had learned to read his expressions well enough. And he seemed happy. 

“A decent assessment. Not perfect, as you failed to mention several flaws. But that isn’t a problem. You’re still learning and wouldn’t know what to look for in every aspect. It is indeed a terrible sword that won’t sell to anyone. But it is, as you say, definitely a sword. And for your first, that’s what counts.” 

“So?” 

“Yes. You’ve succeeded in your task. Just barely, but you have. And so, I will teach you more.” 

“Yes, Master!” Cole said enthusiastically.  

“I can tell you put quite a bit of time and effort into the making of this blade. That is what will carry you far.” He paused. “Cole, do you know why I feel you will be among my better students?” 

“No, Master.”  

“There are two things. One is your drive. That you earnestly completed this one sword to the level you did, instead of scrapping it and starting again like so many other students. It shows you have a dedication. You will see a task through and, hopefully, learn from every step instead of becoming too focused on one part.  

“The second is your honesty. You can honestly look at yourself and your work. You have shown the judgement to see your own flaws. That is a rare trait, and an important one. If you cannot see when you’re doing something wrong, you’ll never be able to fix those mistakes. You will likely never be a truly great blacksmith, but you will become a good one. A reliable one. And many times, that’s all that’s needed. Now rest. I can tell you worked very hard. Tomorrow, we’ll begin the next step of your training.” 

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It's always important to recognize your own flaws and shortcomings. Know when you messed up or when you can't do something. It's a trait that's lacking in far too many people these days. 

Word: Inscape

 

inscape

[ in-skeyp ]

noun

1. the unique essence or inner nature of a person, place, thing, or event, especially depicted in poetry or a work of art.

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Ben sat as still as he reasonably could. He also tried not to think as much as he reasonably could. He failed at both tasks. All he could think about was how meditation was supposed to be the easiest part of the process. 

“Your mind is wandering again.” Came the calm voice of his teacher. How she could tell that was beyond him. Then again, he probably wasn’t being all that subtle. 

“Yeah, sorry.” Ben replied. There was little point in hiding his lack of success. “I just don’t see what the point of this is. I know what you told me, sure. But why? I’m here trying to learn how to swing a sword, not sit around and stop thinking.” 

His teacher came and sat next to him. It once bothered him that she never told him her name. Now that he had gotten over that, it bothered him how she never used his.  

“That is because you have yet to truly understand. The Three-Part Blade is more than just a method of, as you say, swinging a sword. It is a method of connecting mind, body and soul. A bridge between them that will allow you to do things you never dreamed possible. And the first step is the bridge between body and mind.” 

“And to do that, I need to, what was it? See my inner self and discover my true essence. You told me that. But I don’t get what that even means. I mean, I already know myself. I’m the one person I actually do know well. Which means this whole manifestation thing is pointless.” 

She raised an eyebrow. “Pointless? Is that what you really think?” 

He nodded. She sighed and stood. 

“I suppose that is partly my fault.” She said. “I keep forgetting that your background is so different than others I have met. I should have started with a practical demonstration of what can be achieved with the Three-Part Sword, and the unity of body mind and soul. I will not show you the full power though. Only the result of completing the unity at the most basic level.” 

She took a few steps back and drew her sword. It was a fine weapon; Ben could tell that much. He did not know what kind it was though, but it looked similar to those he saw in Chinese martial arts movies, although the tip was more rounded than those. She held it out to her side and took a deep breath. 

The air around her shifted. Her eyes flashed, changing from their normally cool blue to a vibrant silver. And a figure appeared behind her. It looked like an angel with wings made of swords. Jutting from the figure’s forehead were two antlers, with a loop of silver string between them. It was wearing a sleek, silvery outfit that hugged its body, and was clearly made for battle, if the armored segments were any indication. 

Although the figure did not move, Ben could tell it was dangerous. And not just because of the sword-wings. It radiated a quiet power that threatened to cut apart anything that came close to it. He found his breathing becoming fast and shallow, and a deep part of his mind wanted him to hide. 

“This is my Essence Manifestation. The true form of my inner self, brought out and made tangible.” His teacher said. “Doing this is the first step. The first stage of the Three-Part Sword. Once you can do this, your training will truly begin.”   

“And for that I need to do the whole meditation thing?” 

“Yes. That will be the first step. Once you can meditate properly, I will show you how to fine your Essence. Then you must learn it. Understand it. Know it in every way. And that will complete the connection between your mind and body.” 

“And after that?” 

“Then comes body and soul, then mind and soul. And finally, all three.” 

“And then, uh, that?” He pointed at the sword angel.  

“Correct.” 

Ben took a deep breath and swallowed a lump in his throat. “Well then, I’d better get to work, huh?” 

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Okay, so the word isn't refering to any mystical martial arts stuff, but that's where my mind went, so that's what I wrote.

Word: Haboob

haboob

[ huh-boob ]

noun

1. a thick dust storm or sandstorm that blows in the deserts of North Africa and Arabia or on the plains of India.

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“We must stop and set up shelter here.” The expedition’s guide, Kabir, said. The man had stopped, seemingly at random at the top of a sand dune. The rest of the expedition stopped behind him and looked at him quizzically. 

“Why? What’s happening?” The head of the expedition’s research team, Dr. Carwell, asked. 

“There’s a sandstorm coming. We need to set up shelter now, before it comes.” Kabir said. 

Dr. Carwell looked around. The sky was clear, the sun was hot, and save for a gentle desert breeze, there was no sign of such a thing. Still, Kabir had proven himself trustworthy many times. He nodded and gave the signal for suitable sandstorm preparations to be made. 

“What’s the hold up?” Came the heavy, slow voice of the man bankrolling the whole expedition, Owen Fields. The man huddled under a parasol as he lumbered up the side of the dune. “Why have we stopped.” 

“There’s a sandstorm coming.” Kabir said. “A big one. We need to set up shelter now.” 

“What? That’s ridiculous. Look around, there’s not a cloud in the sky. Setting up camp now, in the middle of the day, will put us behind schedule.” 

“Better late than dead.” The guide said. “Desert sandstorms can arise suddenly, and are very dangerous. My knowing how to tell one is coming is what makes me so well respected.” 

“Bah.” Owen said. “You’re obviously full of it. There’s no sandstorm coming. And even if there was, so what? It’s just a bit of sand.” 

“Uh, actually,” Dr. Carwell said. “Desert sandstorms are known for being extremely dangerous. Deadly, even. Especially the big ones.” 

“And this one will be quite big. Not the biggest I’ve seen, but large enough to kill us all if we don’t take shelter.” 

The portly man looked between the two of them. “The desert’s gotten to you both, hasn’t it? You’ve all gotten heat madness. Get under some shade, cool down, and let’s keep going.” 

“Sorry, but no.” Dr. Carwell said. “Kabir has earned my trust in these matters. If he says take shelter, that’s what we’re doing.” 

“Let me ask you something: Who’s in charge of this expedition.” 

“Depends on who you ask.” Dr. Carwell replied. “All the bureaucrats back home will say you are.”   

Owen smirked with pride. “That’s right. And that means--” 

“But if you ask everyone actually on the expedition, in other words, all the people currently present, it’s me.” 

Owen stammered over the interruption. His eyes widened and his mouth worked over unformed words. He looked around at the other men, who had paused their efforts to set up camp to look at them. None of them looked thrilled at the prospect of listening to the man. 

“Listen up,” He called, trying to see what support he had. “Our guide here says there’s a sandstorm coming, when there’s obviously none. I say we keep going and reach our destination sooner. What do you say? Listen to someone who’s obviously wrong, or me?” 

The only answer he got was the men going back to the task of setting up sandstorm shelters. Owen sputtered and grumbled at the lack of respect he was getting.  

“Fine. Listen to the desert rat instead of someone with an actual education. See what happens to you.”  

He stormed off, flopped down onto the sand and sulked. This, thankfully, allowed the men to work in peace until they were finished.   

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Don't you just hate dealing with people who think they know better than the actual experts? 

Word: Hyaline

 

hyaline

[ noun hahy-uh-leen, -lin; adjective hahy-uh-lin, -lahyn ]

noun

1. Also hy·a·lin [] Biochemistry.
   1. a horny substance found in hydatid cysts, closely resembling chitin.
   2. a structureless, transparent substance found in cartilage, the eye, etc., resulting from the pathological degeneration of tissue.
2. something glassy or transparent.

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Mit and Bud crept into the large cave. They should not have been there, but they were desperate. The Rattin were becoming more aggressive by the day, and it wouldn’t be long before outright war broke out. And there were said to be old weapons in this cave. Forbidden weapons. But if they could be used to stop a war? That was worth the risk. 

“Hear anything?” Bud asked. His tail was tucked and his own ears laid back. 

“I...do.” Mit said. Her triangular ears flicked and rotated, working much better than Bud’s floppy ones. Although his nose was better, he wasn’t using it too much. For a Doggin, he wasn’t very brave.   

“It’s odd.” She continued. “A humming sound coming from the walls. I can’t tell what’s causing it.” 

“Monsters? Demons?” Bud asked. “Probably one of those.” 

“We’ll find out. And if it is something dangerous, I’ll take care of it.” She said, flexing her claws.  

She just hoped he wasn’t paying enough attention to smell her own nervousness. There was a reason Cattin only used their claws as a weapon of last resort, after all. 

  The two went deeper into the cave and eventually found its end. A massive cavern, easily larger than their village. It was dimly lit with odd red lights coming from the bottom of the unnaturally smooth walls. In fact, the entire place was smooth. Not like stone at all. Bud leaned down and sniffed the floor. 

“It’s...metal. Not a kind I’ve ever seen before, either. And it’s everywhere.”  

“I wouldn’t be worried about that. I’m more worried about those.” 

Mit pointed a paw at the interior of the metal cavern. There were things there. Giant tubes of some smooth, transparent material. Like the glass that nobles sometimes used for their windows, but much clearer. And there were hundreds of them.  

Each tube was filled with a pale green liquid with a figure floating inside. The figures were large, and without fur, save for on their heads. And they had distinct paws with five long ends. 

“They look like Apein.” Mit said. 

“Can’t be.” Bud said. “They’re too skinny to be Apein. And not as hairy. The paws kind of match though.” 

“Hands, Bud. Apein call them hands.” 

“Close enough. What do we do with them?” 

“I don’t know. Are they even alive?” 

The two looked at each other. They approached one of the tubes. They pressed against them, smelling and listening for signs of life. The figure was indeed alive, if only just. And there was something else. Bud felt something that Mit apparently did not. An odd longing, like he wanted to meet whoever was in that tube. His tail moved, wagging slowly. 

“Should we do something?” Mit asked. 

“Yes!” Bud said, a little quicker than he probably intended. “I mean, we’re here for something to help us fight, right? And these...whatever they are, are big. And they built a place like this. They must know something that can help, right?” 

“Okay? Look around and see if there’s something we can use to free one of them.” 

The search commenced. The cavern was filled with things that neither could identify. They examined the tubes closer and found a part of it dimly lit. Mit tapped it, and it came to life. Symbols she could not even begin to identify flashed on the small rectangle. She sighed and began randomly tapping them, hoping for something to happen. And something did. 

A voice came out of the tube, speaking in an unknown language. The glassy tube buzzed and whirred. The liquid emptied, vanishing into the floor. The figure collapsed, not moving. Both Bud and Mit gathered, watching, hoping something would happen. 

Then the figure moved. Its eyes opened wide and it took a big, deep breath. The glass lowered, although there did not seem to be anything lowering it. The odd Apein looked around, wide eyed with obvious panic. It said something in the same language as the tube did, but in a much deeper voice. Then it saw Bud and Mit. 

Its eyes landed on the small Doggin and its mouth curled up, baring large, flat teeth. Mit hissed at the threat and backed up. Bud did not. He approached the large creature. 

“What are you doing?” Mitt asked. Her fur was standing on end and her claws were out in full force. 

“I...don’t think he wants to hurt us.” Bud said. “Don’t ask me why, but I just know.” 

The creature held out its, his, hand and Bud approached. The long fingers went right to Bud’s head and began to move. Bud’s eyes rolled back in his head and his tail wagged furiously. 

“What...what’s happening?” Mit asked. 

“I don’t know, but whatever it is, is amazing.” Bud said dreamily. His tongue actually lolled out of his mouth. The Apein seemed absolutely thrilled about this.  

“Well maybe you can use...whatever you’ve got going on to communicate? We need their help you know.” 

“Uh-huh. I’ll get right on that.” Bud said. 

Mit sighed. She just hoped whatever these creatures were, were worth the trouble. 

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Not sure if this is going to actually go anywhere or not. Probably not, but there's always a chance, right?