The Right Words, Part III
The next morning, Anej wasn’t in the gardens reciting poetry. While Nourd was a little disappointed, it quickly went away when he remembered he’d be going with Oshal to the Temple of Words later that day.
He still couldn’t remember the words she’d used. He could only remember how he’d felt and what he’d seen. For a moment, he’d been back in the forest, back where everything made sense, back where he knew where he belonged. Nourd hoped that would happen every time he heard those words. If he heard them again, he could pretend to go back, even if he couldn’t really go back there.
He’d tried imagining himself in the forest, but it didn’t work the same as when he’d heard Anej’s poem. He still couldn’t smell or hear the forest on his own. It wouldn’t matter though, not once he heard Anej’s poem again.
“We’ll go to the Temple of Words today,” Master Gorkle said when he arrived to fetch Nourd. Nourd could sense hir reluctance. Was there something wrong with going to the Temple of Words? Perhaps there would be hunters there.
“I do not have problems with hunters.”
A brief smell of confusion passed through Master Gorkle.
“Hunters aren’t my concern. When you’re there, you’ll need to follow the rules. Keep quiet. Don’t make any assumptions about what people are talking about. If they use words you’ve never heard before, wait for them to explain what they mean.” Zie sighed. “They do that.”
Master Gorkle’s attitude toward the Temple of Words reminded him a little of when Mother would try to keep peace between the tribes. Perhaps there were people there that argued all the time. Nourd had seen humans arguing many times during his brief stay at the court. Perhaps they were all angry about how complicated being a human was.
They met Oshal and Lady Durwey later that day. It always brightened Nourd’s spirits to see him. The exhilaration made him think of jumping through the treetops with the apes. He didn’t care what the birds said; flying couldn’t be as much fun.
Once again, they walked through the court rather than the castle. Most people moved out of their way, not unlike when they’d been through the court with Oshal’s family. Unlike that time, people moved away out of respect. He’d smelled their fear before. The humans didn’t like Roshil either.
“Here we are,” Lady Durwey said as they approached a large human dwelling.
Outside the temple there were two large stones carved into the shape of humans. One of them was frozen with her mouth open, looking out to a public that wasn’t there. The other had his head down, absorbed in the material in front of him.
“What are they?” Nourd asked. “Why are they like that?”
“They’re statues,” Master Gorkle explained. “Depictions of people that might’ve been alive long ago.”
“Why do humans keep dead humans in stone?”
He had heard that some humans stuffed dead animals, like the monsters humans were. They could at least have the decency to eat the animals and use their pelts to keep warm.
“They aren’t kept in stone. It’s… symbolic.”
“I—”
“I know you don’t know what that means.” Master Gorkle drew in a breath, but he let it out without explaining.
“Yvgrengher teaches the importance of books,” Oshal said. “When humans see statues, they think it must be something important. So they built statues of people reading to show how important books are.”
“Why do humans think carved stones of dead humans are important?”
“Because it takes a lot of work to carve the stone into dead humans,” Oshal replied. “So when people see that someone took the time and effort to make it, they think it must be important.”
Nourd looked at the statues again. He didn’t understand the significance, but he agreed that it must’ve taken a lot of time to make them. Perhaps there was significance in them.
Lady Durwey smiled at Oshal as the four of them walked inside the temple. Inside was a large cavern lined with trees carved into shapes. On those shapes were housed books, packed tightly together. Master Gorkle had told Nourd about books before, along with his explanation of a library. Books were dead trees with crushed up plants smeared on them, bound together by animal skin. Supposedly they were important to humans. In addition to the passing stories and survival skills from one generation to the next by way of teaching, they also did so with books.
Nourd could understand that somewhat. It would be helpful to know more than just what the previous generation remembered. There were times when he wondered if it would be helpful to know everything Elder Wolf’s ancestors knew.
A human male walked out to greet them. He wore robes of black, covered with sparkling pieces.
“My Lady Grand Weaver, Grand Master Druid. Welcome to the Temple of Words. May Yvgrengher share His infinite knowledge and wisdom with you.”
“Thank you, Master Rindumna,” Lady Durwey said. She motioned to Nourd. “Apprentice Nourd is new in the court, and was curious about the temple.”
“Of course. The temple welcomes all with a thirst for knowledge.” He looked down at Nourd. “What is it you would like to know, Apprentice Nourd?”
“How can one be thirsty for knowledge? One cannot drink knowledge.”
Master Rindumna frowned at Nourd, then at Master Gorkle.
“He doesn’t know what a metaphor is,” Master Gorkle said. “Apprentice Nourd was raised in the forest by Mother.”
“There was a woman reading words in the gardens yesterday about the forest,” Nourd said. “Master Gorkle said it was ‘poetry’. How does a human make poetry?”
“You allow the feelings in your heart to well up inside you, until it bursts forth in a shining fountain of your inner self.”
Nourd looked down at his chest. He’d seen what was inside a heart. It was just blood and bits of flesh. Did Master Rindumna mean he had to stab himself and bleed out? He was certain that would kill him.
Oshal raised his hand.
“Yes, Apprentice Oshal?” Lady Durwey said.
“Nourd, I think Master Rindumna means that you make poetry by writing down what you’re feeling.” Oshal turned his blind gaze to Master Rindumna. “Right?”
“I suppose that’s another way of explaining it,” Master Rindumna said, somewhat crestfallen. “If one were to use simple language.”
“Is Apprentice Anej here?” he asked. He smelled the air, but there were too many humans.
“She’s not here right now,” Master Rindumna said.
“She wrote a poem about the forest. I want to hear it again.”
“Nothing soothes the weary soul quite like a recitation from the heart.”
Nourd opened his mouth to ask, then remembered Master Gorkle’s orders not to ask questions.
“He means he likes poetry too,” Master Gorkle said.
“I do not know poetry yet. But I liked Apprentice Anej’s words. Do you know what they were?”
This human with his words that were more confusing than normal human words was making Nourd angry. He hadn’t come to be talked to in confusing words, he’d come to hear Anej’s words again.
“Whatever her chosen lyrics, she has yet to recite them for other ears to enjoy.”
“That means ‘no’,” Master Gorkle said. “I think it’s time we left.”
“But I haven’t heard Apprentice Anej’s words.”
“I’m sure we’ll find her again.”
“But—”
“Nourd,” Oshal said. “Please?”
Nourd sensed that Oshal wanted to leave too, so he allowed himself to be led out of the temple. Another human thing. Humans that made everything confusing. Humans that kept him from going back to the forest.
“Maybe you can write your own,” Oshal suggested as they walked back to the castle.
“I cannot write.”
“Sorry, that’s an expression. Maybe you can come up with a poem. You know the forest better than anyone.”
Nourd began to get an idea, remembering what Oshal had said earlier about poetry. It was about saying the words from his head. Was that all it took? He knew how to say the words… somewhat. Maybe he could come up with the same words Apprentice Anej had. Maybe he could use his own words to return to the forest.