Word: Sylvan

sylvan

or silvan

[sil-vuh n]

adjective

1. of, relating to, or inhabiting the woods.

2. consisting of or abounding in woods or trees; wooded; woody:

a shady, sylvan glade.

3. made of trees, branches, boughs, etc.

noun

4. a person dwelling in a woodland region.

5. a mythical deity or spirit of the woods.

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               There’s some more of them.  What should we do?

                Do we need to do anything?  They’re just walking after all.

                You don’t know that.  They could have fire or steel with them.

                Oh don’t be such a worry wart.  Most of them are harmless, even with fire and steel.  Most of the time the steel is dull and the fire is small.

                He’s right, you know.  We’ve never done anything before, and I say we keep it that way.

                You two are fools.  We need to protect ourselves.  So many of our brethren have fallen to them.

                And others have been birthed.  Not all mean us harm you know.  Most that come this way simply want to look and listen.  They might not be as good at those as those who live here, but it’s the thought that counts in this case.

                I’ve even seen one or two that tried to fix one of us.  It was a clumsy attempt, but it was appreciated. 

                Why do you defend them so much?  Have they not taken steel to both of you?

                One of them did carve something in to me once, but it didn’t hurt much.  It was only on the surface, and the one who did so looked happy with it, so I don’t mind.  I’ve seen them do far worse to their own bodies.  I still don’t know why they would put steel into themselves like that.  It seems silly to me.

                I’m sure it has some purpose.  I for one wonder how some of them get those odd markings on their flesh.  Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn’t leave and find out. 

                They would kill you on the spot if you did something so foolish. 

                I know.  That’s why I haven’t done that already.

                Well, good to know you have some sense in you.

                Actually, I think it might be all right, depending on where you go.

                What do you mean?

                Yes, why do you say that?

                Well, some places will indeed have people who will kill you right away, but others might find it entertaining.

                Oh?

                Yes.  I’ve seen it.  They have stories about us.  About those of us who can move and talk.  We’re usually good in them, and even helpful.

                That’s good, I suppose.  They don’t know we can move and speak and such though, do they?

                I should hope not. Why should knowing we can talk and move make us seem entertaining to them?  And why should it matter?

                It’s because of how they treat people and things they see as entertaining.

                Which is?

                They very nearly worship such things.  I’ve seen it many times.  They carry around these tiny little squares and watch things on them.  They laugh and cry and get angry and all kinds of things, and then they talk about it with others.  I’ve seen even beasts that are treated like kings just for sneezing or playing with a leaf.

                Such…such small things can influence them so much?

                It’s true.  I’ve seen it too.  I’ve even seen them use those little squares to record the images of our falling leaves and fruits.  You’ve seen that too, haven’t you?

                Well, yes…I suppose I have seen that a few times.  I always wondered why they would do such a thing.  It seems silly and pointless to me.

                Me too, but I’m sure it has some significance for them.

                I think it’s a good thing.  A sign that we stand in good favor in their eyes.  Who knows, maybe someday we will be able to speak with them.

                I doubt it.  They think of us as nothing but a part of the land at best, and tools at worst.  I still say we should do something about them.

                Of course you do, but that would be terrible.  It would show them we can move and talk in all the worst ways.  Then they really would come after us with fire and steel.  If we remain as we have been, things will mostly remain as they have been.

                You say that like it’s a good thing. 

                Better than the alternative.

                We should wait.  Eventually things will get better.  I’m sure of it.  More and more of them are learning to care for us, and sooner or later those that want to work with us will be able to shut down those that want to kill us.

                That will never happen.

                It will, I’m sure of it.  It might take a long time, but it will happen.

                I agree.  I think it’s already starting to happen, just slowly.

                You two are fools. 

                No, we’re not. You know what I think?  I think you’re just bitter they don’t give you as much attention as the rest of us.

                That’s…that’s not true!  Just…just be quiet, there’s more of them coming.

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If trees really could talk, I bet they'd have some pretty unpleasant things to say about us.  I mean seriously, look what we're doing to the place.   

Word: Castellated

castellated

[kas-tl-ey-tid]

adjective

1. Architecture. built like a castle, especially with turrets and battlements.

2. having many castles.

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                Jenny kept her eyes closed.  She groaned, rolled over, and immediately flipped back to her previous facing.  She could feel the sunlight through her eyelids.  She tried again, slower this time.  As her blurry vision started to clear, she took in the sight of the large, lavishly decorated bedroom.

                She sat bolt upright with wide eyes, her hangover all but forgotten.  She was experiencing every 21 year old girl’s worst nightmare: Waking up in someone else’s bedroom and not knowing whose or where.  She took a quick stock of the room.

                There was nobody else in the large, soft bed with her, which made her happy.  The fact that she was wearing some kind of silk nightgown was a bit disturbing, but since her regular clothes were sitting on a cushioned chair nearby, cleaned and folded, she hoped whoever she went home with was either another girl or a total gentleman.

                “Ah, I am glad to see you have woken up, my mistress.”  Said a decidedly male voice.  She turned to face the speaker, completely forgetting that she hadn’t heard anyone entering the room.

                The man was tall and slender, clothed in a body concealing robe decorated with swirling cloud patterns.  She looked at his almost painfully handsome face and became much more aware of the fact that her hair was likely a complete mess and her makeup was probably smudged and runny.  She immediately retreated to the only safe place she could think of: under the covers.

                “Mistress?  Are you unwell?”  The man asked.  Without the distraction of his looks there, Jenny took note of his breathy, almost wind like voice.  And the fact that he was calling her “mistress” no longer escaped her notice either.

                “Um, yeah, I’m fine, I think.  Just, you know, a bit hung over.”  She said, hoping the covers didn’t muffle her voice too much.   

                “Ah, I see.  Well then, when you feel better, I am sure you have much you would like to ask, correct?”

                “Uh huh.” 

                “If you would like, I can prepare a remedy for you.  It will not cure you, but it should alleviate the pains.”

                “Yes!”  She said loudly and throwing the covers down.  She immediately regretted that, as her own voice stung her ears.

                He left, giving Jenny time to make herself somewhat presentable.  At the very least she was able to fix her hair and check her makeup in a large vanity mirror on a nearby desk.  It took some time to work through her hangover to do so, but by the time her host came back with a steaming cup, she was looking as good as she could be given the lack of cosmetics. 

                The drink tasted like strong tea, and the warmth felt good going down her throat.  True to his words, it did indeed start to reduce the effects of last night’s party on her head. 

                “Now then, would you like to—“  He started.  Jenny didn’t give him time to finish before she started.

                “Who are you, where am I, why did you take me here, what do you want with me?”  She said quickly.

                “I am called Zephyr.”  He said, much more calmly.  “I am the spirit of this castle, the Wind Castle.  I have brought you here because your voice woke me up, showing me that you are my master, or mistress in this case.”

                “That…that doesn’t tell me a whole lot.”  She said.  “Wait, this is a castle?”  She asked, latching on to the one thing she knew for sure.

                “Yes, mistress.  The Wind Castle.”

“But there’s no castles around here.”

“The wind castle can go anywhere the wind does.  Suffice it to say, it is not a normal building.  Please look out the window.” 

        Jenny did as he asked her and gasped.  They were floating.  Whatever building they were in was floating high above the ground.  Jenny let out a confused squeak.

        “This castle is one of many that represent aspects of nature.  In this case, wind.  It grants it’s masters great power.  That to control the air itself.  And that is you.”

        “B-but…huh?”  She said.

        “Come, mistress, I will show you the rest of the castle, your castle, if you would like.”

        “Uh huh.”  She said in a daze.

        Zephyr led her out of the room and into a large stone hallway, and on to many, many rooms and chambers.  He told her what each room was for, and that she could go anywhere in the place just by thinking about it once she learned how.  It all seemed so farfetched, like something out of her little brother’s fantasy books, but the fact that she had confirmed through multiple windows that the castle was indeed flying, she couldn’t really doubt it.

        “So, uh, what do I do here?  I mean, what’re my jobs as the ruler of this place?”  Jenny risked asking.

        “First you must learn to control the castle, if only at a basic level.  More advanced applications can come later.  Then you must choose your retainers.  Four people to be imbued with the power of the four winds.  These will be your most loyal warriors, given power second only to your own.  Others may, of course, be chosen to live here and become your subjects, but the four retainers must come first.  Then you will wage battle against others—“

        “Wait, what?”  Jenny asked.

        “You must wage battle against the masters and mistresses of the other great castles.  By doing so, your power and influence will grow.”

        “Other castles?”  She asked nervously.

        “Oh yes, there are many castles such as this, each with its own power. By defeating the master of one, you gain control of it, and it’s power, and you may then use it like your own.  Ah, but don’t worry, gaining control of another castle will allow it to merge and separate with this one by your will.  If you are able to master all the other great castles out there, you will become the true Queen of All Things.  It is a great honor just to be master of one castle, just think of owning all of them.”

        “Uh, yeah, right.  Can, uh, can I back out of this?”

        “Why would you want to?”  Zephyr said, tilting his head to one side.

        “Do I look like a fighter?  I’m a 21 year old college girl of Christ sakes.  I’ve never fought a day in my life.”

        “Do not worry, you will be instructed.  And you will have the aid of your retainers to fight with you.”

        “So what?  I still want out.”

        “I’m afraid that is impossible.”

        “Why?  You said I’m the mistress here, so that means you have to do what I say, right?”

        “For the most part, yes.  But I am afraid that the only way to yield control of a great castle is to die.  The castle must have a master, and it will only yield control to someone when its previous master dies.”

        Jenny felt her blood run cold.  That was bad news on two fronts.  One was that there was no way out.  The second meant that if she wanted to stay alive, she would need to kill someone else.

        “Are you sure there’s no other way?”

        “None.  I am sorry, my mistress.”

        “Can I at least avoid fights?”

        “It is possible, yes.  But not forever.  You will eventually encounter another castle, and when that happens the only choice is to fight.”

        “What…what about making allies?  Is that possible?”

        “Yes, for a time.  But any alliances would be temporary, as it is the fate of all castle masters to fight eventually, trying to become the King or Queen of All Things.  You can use alliances to help you at the start, but they will not last forever.”

        Jenny felt her world crumble around her.  Finding out she would have to fight and either kill or be killed were not pleasant thoughts. 

        “What…what should I do?”  She asked quietly.

        “Learn.  Learn to use the castle and the power it grants you.” 

        Jenny sighed.  Her fists clenched hard enough that he knuckles turned white.  All she wanted to do was go back to her dorm room and goof off with her roommate.

        “Okay, fine.  What do I have to do?”  She asked, resigning herself to her fate.

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I might continue with this, but I also might not.  We shall see what we shall see, right?  

Word: Vicissitude

vicissitude

[vi-sis-i-tood, -tyood]

noun

1. a change or variation occurring in the course of something.

2. interchange or alternation, as of states or things.

3. vicissitudes, successive, alternating, or changing phases or conditions, as of life or fortune; ups and downs:

They remained friends through the vicissitudes of 40 years.

4. regular change or succession of one state or thing to another.

5. change; mutation; mutability.

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               “So, what’d you bring us down here to see?”  Mike asked as the three of them walked down the stairs. 

                “Something weird fell near me.” Ivan replied as he led his two friends down to see his discovery.

                “Something fell on you?  Are you okay?”  Todd asked.

                “Not on me, you idiot, near me.  I was outside doing stuff in the back yard—“

                “That means he was trying to look at the girls next door sunbathing.”  Mike chimed in. Ivan would have hit him, but since he was in front of the other two, it was too awkward to reach behind him to do so.

                “—I was outside in the yard,”  Ivan continued instead, “When this thing falls.  It left a pretty big crater to.  So I get a jar and put it in, and then I called you two.”

                “So, what is it?”  Todd asked.

                “I don’t really know.”

                “What’d everyone else around do?”  Mike asked.

                “Most people that live around here weren’t around when it fell.  Those that were kind of panicked and ran around and screamed and stuff.”

                “Ah.”

                “Anyway, here it is.”  Ivan said.

                They had reached a small table set up in Ivan’s basement.  On it was a tightly sealed jar with a perfectly round greenish-brown object inside of it. 

                “So, that’s it?  An ugly ball?”  Mike asked.  Todd approached the table and leaned over the jar.

                “Weird.  It doesn’t look like a rock or anything.”  He said.

                “As far as I can tell, it’s not.”  Ivan said.  He pushed his way passed Todd and slowly picked up the jar.  “But it does some weird stuff.  Check this out.”

                Ivan slowly and carefully shook the jar.  At first, nothing seemed to happen other than the object clinking against the walls of the jar.  Then it started to melt.  Whatever material it was made of pooled in the jar and swirled around as it shook. 

                Ivan let the now mass of putrid greenish-brown liquid settle a bit, mostly to show his friends what had happened.  Then he started shaking it much harder.  Like before, the liquid started out doing nothing but slosh around. In a few seconds though, the jar was filled with a fine mist the color of the round object and its liquid form.

                “Whoa.”  Todd said.  “That is freaky.”

                “Just wait.  It’s not over yet.”  Ivan said as he put the jar back on the table.

                As Mike and Todd watched, the gas stopped moving around and was soon back in its liquid state.  When that stopped moving, it bunched up and reformed the original spherical object. 

                “Huh.”  Mike said, unsure of what else to say. 

                “So, what do you guys think?”  Ivan asked.

                “How do you think it works?”  Todd asked.

                “If I knew that, I’d be able to make a fortune with this stuff.”  Ivan replied.

                “How?”  Mike replied.  “You can’t do anything with it.  Any time it moves, it changes states, so it’s useless for just about anything.”

                “I’d think of something.  I’m sure the scientific community would pay a ton of money to find out.”

                “I guess so.”

                “So, are you gonna sell it or what?”  Todd asked.

                “Haven’t decided yet, but probably not.  I want to really test out everything it can do. I bet if I shook it hard enough, it’d go full on plasma.”

                “You know what we should do?”  Todd said, apparently getting an idea.

                “What?”  Ivan asked.

                “We should hook it up to something and find out.”

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   Remember, if you find a potentially dangerous alien substance, don't play with it.  It might not turn out very well.