Chapter 13
Dear Cidnosins,
I arrived home from my errand lucky enough to find mail from you both. I write today in answer to Arvist specifically, though I wanted to include E. as well.
I too am curious about the “Structure”, as E. nicknamed it, and now that I am back and we are all quite on the same page about the question of its origins – namely, that it was not produced by Arvist – I am happy to assist with an investigation. E., in case you are not aware, Arvist requested that I bring a depth-craft to your home “the very day after [I] receive this message!” so that we may undertake further research together.
I shall arrive in three days. I hope this will suit you.
Kindly,
Jeime Alestarre
Dear* E.,
*Since I have not yet heard from you, I will do my best to avoid excessive sentimentality in my salutations until I know it is welcome!
I apologise for sending you a second letter, but an idea came to me shortly after posting the first one that was too appealing not to share! Please forgive my boldness.
My research on this mission will focus on the surface biomes as I track these elusive rays! Consequently, I will spend very little time thinking and learning about creatures who prefer the reefs. My idea is this: as a diversion for us both, I wondered if you might be interested in keeping a field journal for me throughout the rest of my voyage? I have a small notebook perfect for our purposes (emblazoned with a beautiful woodcut print of a Numinous Octopus). Something to keep us connected – and to enable you to explore your talents with Natural History! Sharing this experience with you would be such a gift, if you are willing.
Between meeting you yestereve and the events that transpired today, I can hardly believe that I have not stepped into some Fantasy. I presume in your reading on the subject you might have encountered the tale of “The Scholar of Serendipity”? (Perhaps, as they did, I will soon find myself in charge of the entire Boundless Campus by sheer luck alone! (My first act – using my new position of power to be so kind and sensitive to Chancellor Rawsel that he repents of his cruel ways.))
I must go now – much to be done! (My clothes-trunk arrived from campus this afternoon and – I can hardly write these words – the folding situation is worse than I feared.)
Until soon – I remain yours,
Henerey
P.S. Long overdue, but here is the poem at last – finally had the time to excavate it from my files for you! Desperate to know your thoughts.
#405. “A Luminous Circumference” by Scholar Kenven Darbeni
A Luminous Circumference—
Melodious—to Spy
Anathema to Lecturers
And—Critics! O, I Vie
With Reason when my Shades are Shut—
A Predator—Awaits—
Though I recite my Proofs again—
That Circle Coruscates!
Dearest E.,
It pains me when I cannot be there to speak with you in your times of need! I know we did not quite embody the stereotype of heart-bound sisters in our childhood – perhaps because we did not share a bedroom and therefore lacked the familiarity forced by proximity in most Boundless families from crowded Anchorages – but reading your letter made me desperately want to sit at the foot of your bed in my nightclothes and converse until morning to make you feel better.
In this imaginary scenario, I would clutch your hands and say this:
Henerey undoubtedly enjoyed his evening with you, and I imagine that he is probably – at this very moment – penning and crossing out and penning again countless sentimental words to send to you (if he has not done so already, of course). I know that you will not believe me, because you are convinced that no individual could possibly revel in your company – but let me see if I can use another approach to convince you.
Henerey is no ordinary individual.
From what I can tell, he is much like you – brilliant, creative, observant, retiring, and altogether uninterested in social mores (with the exception, perhaps, of Fashion). You suspect that he deprives himself of superior company by spending time with you; on the contrary, perhaps last night he felt as though he was truly understood for the first time since he joined Boundless Campus.
I desperately hope (and suspect) that by the time you read this, you will see my predictions – like some sisterly prophecy – come to pass. I also suspect that the dress looked stunning on you, frilly and impractical though it may be. You are welcome, by the way, to any article of clothing currently in my wardrobe, if you can stomach entering “Arvist and Seliara’s” suite to retrieve further items. I left behind only those garments that I swore never to wear again. O, how I wish I had been there to help you choose one and style you for the evening, if you desired!
Well, that was a delightful diversion! Let me return to reality. Though that is not to say that my present reality is not delightful – it is simply more complicated than that.
Niea’s tests discovered that Ylaret’s communicator had been improperly tuned to capture even the faintest of frequencies, which was likely the source of the unusual feedback. You might assume that these promising results brought about the end of this drama. Well, not quite. The evening after the assessments, we all gathered in the galley. To everyone’s surprise, Vincenebras and Irye now cook together regularly – quite expertly, if you can believe it – and have been gracing us with the most elaborate meals one could ever create from Cold-Processed rations.
The air – though thin and cold as it always is down here – seemed infused with celebration. Niea, in high spirits, announced that we would undertake a second off-Spheres expedition in just a few days’ time. Buoyed by this good news, I also entertained the group with the story of Arvist’s gala. I may have mentioned (please forgive me!) that Scholar Clel attended said gala, and that I wished to learn more of his character. O, I know it was indiscreet of me, E., but I did want to hear what my colleagues thought of him – since he is getting so close to you, you know! Well, you can rest easy that their opinions of Henerey are predictably positive. Not that it means anything to you, of course, but Niea mentioned that she knows “those who find gentlemen attractive” consider him a paragon – a statement Irye was happy to confirm. (After which Vincenebras exclaimed “Irye, do you mean to say that you find gentlemen attractive?”, to which Irye responded “If by ‘gentlemen’, you mean yourself, dear Vincenebras, the answer is a resounding no.” And Vincenebras laughed as though it was the merriest thing he ever heard!)
When all assembled had exhausted all possible compliments for your new friend, Ylaret tapped her drinking-shell to draw our attention.
“Will you provide the evening’s musical entertainment, Ylaret?” asked Irye drolly.
“Dear Irye, I was about to ask the very same question!” said Vincenebras.
“With much more sincerity, I wager,” Irye replied.
Ylaret shook her head.
“I simply wanted to take a moment to thank you all. And I wanted to offer a bit of an explanation. Niea already knows what I will say, and I hinted to Sophy—”
“Really,” cut in Niea, “Ylaret, you must feel no obligation to share—”
“But I would very much like to.” With that, Ylaret looked around the galley at each one of us with practised skill. (It was in that moment I remembered the acclaim that her lectures receive!)
“Ever since we first entered the water out there,” she said, “I have heard the most – well, what I thought was – the most beautiful and unusual music.”
“Have I failed so much as a Scholar of Sound that my colleagues will not come to me first when they encounter unexplained aural phenomena?” exclaimed Irye, collapsing on the table in a mock swoon. “How could you tell Niea and Sophy and not me?”
“I should have told you, Irye,” Ylaret continued. “Really, I ought to have informed all of you immediately. But I thought I was hallucinating, and that unsettled me. It took me a few days to find the courage to speak with Eliniea, for I knew she would handle this matter in the most calm and reasoned way.”
Far better than any of us would, that is for certain. I cannot blame Ylaret for that decision.
“And she did, of course! You cannot imagine the relief I feel in knowing that whatever I heard was simply a quirk of the communicator.”
“Well, it was a ‘quirk’, in a manner of speaking,” said Vincenebras, “but the true issue was that your communicator was tuned to a different frequency than ours, correct? So does that not mean that this ‘music’ was real, but simply impossible for the rest of us to hear?”
“Hypothetically, yes,” said Irye. “But the human ear is a marvellous thing. Just as our eyes seek out faces in the most abstract of sandbars, our ears attempt to find melodies in whatever we hear. The fact that Ylaret translated this feedback into songs rather charms and enchants me, if I’m honest. If you consent, Ylaret, I would love to speak with you more about the nature of this ‘music’. I don’t suppose any part of it sounded anything like – a Bloorb?”
“I would be glad to,” answered Ylaret. “I have felt so confused and unhappy over the past few days, and this development gives me a sense of peace. Shall we retire to my chambers and speak further? I would not wish to bore our colleagues.”
“O, dear Ylaret, I challenge anyone to bore Vincenebras!” called Vincenebras, following Ylaret and Irye as they departed the galley.
Now that we were on our own, I wished to learn more about Niea’s experience with Ylaret’s “music”, but Niea spoke first.
“So do you approve of your sister and Scholar Clel?” she asked, gracing me with a genuine smile.
I nodded and told her why in as few words as possible. (I promise that she is trustworthy! She found the notion of your correspondence with Henerey very charming.) When I finished, she seemed much more at ease.
“It has been some time since we talked of your family,” said Niea. “I wish I could meet E. I do think we would get along quite well!” (I tend to agree!)
“And I would like to meet Aliella, too,” I replied (did I mention this previously? Niea has only one sibling, quite close in age to her as you and I are). “How odd to think of a world in which we might call upon our families more regularly. I forget what that is like.”
“It is easy to forget while adrift in the depths as we are.” Niea chewed on the last remnant of Vincenebras’ roasted kelp braids. “That sounds bleak. It is not fully what I mean.”
“Perhaps it is easy to adapt while adrift in the depths?” I suggested.
“Adapting! Yes, I prefer that to forgetting. And while I have adjusted to our present situation, there are many reasons why I do wish we could easily visit the surface from time to time. We could have unlimited access to the libraries again, hear the waves – the waves, Sophy, do you remember them? – and you could meet Alie, and I could meet E.… Wouldn’t it be lovely, my friend?”
And, dear E., I do not know if it was the fermentation of the kelp or the sheer intoxication of these dreams about experiencing life on the surface anew with Niea or the way she looked in her pearl-pink dress robes, but E., I said—
“It would be loveliest if you called me by another term than ‘friend’.”
—which were words that I regretted as soon as I uttered them, and immediately retracted before she could answer—
“That is, I would say such a thing if I were Vincenebras, that old flirt, who still does not comprehend that I have no eyes for him or anyone else, but I will not say this to you, except in jest, because I know you asked that we remain professional in our relationship at present, and I respect—”
And then, gently and cautiously, she took my hand, which silenced me at last!
“Sophy, have you ever visited Stellar Hall?” Niea asked calmly, as though we were simply two friends discussing the popular attractions of Intertidal Campus and she were not holding my hand!
“No,” I managed to mumble. “But I have heard it is a place of recreation?”
“I forget,” she said between giggles, “that your primary occupation and only pastime is being a Scholar. It is a hall for dancing and socialising, of course, but one designed for the amateur Scholars of the Skies among us. You see, instead of a ceiling, the top of the building is covered by an enormous lens, the sort you might find in a Telescope. Thus, you can whirl about all evening while the great magnified dome of the cosmos spins above you.”
“That does sound like an improvement upon your average hall for dancing and socialising.”
“Were we at the surface,” whispered Niea, gripping my hand still tighter, “it would give me the greatest pleasure if you were to spend an evening there in my company.”
“Any time spent in your company would be marvellous, enormous Telescopes or otherwise,” I said. “But Niea, is this not too hasty? Please don’t misunderstand. I am not complaining, certainly, though I was under the impression that you did not wish any… connection with me.”
“Perish the thought, please!” she cried. “As you know, there have been some troubles weighing on me since our expedition began. When Ylaret confessed that she had been experiencing hallucinations, I suspected the worst. I thought I doomed you all by subjecting you to an unknown environment with little understanding of the consequences! So this development gives me an opportunity to breathe once more, so to speak. But even if that were not the case, dear Sophy, there is only so long I could pretend to myself that I did not feel strongly about you.”
I did not press her to hear more about these troubles, as I felt far more inclined to press my lips to hers.
O dear. Had I anything else to share with you? Had you said anything else of import to me? I remember nothing but Niea’s embrace. Let us end with that.
Sophy
P.S. O, I do hate to spoil the sentimentality of the moment, but I have also included a copy of Vincenebras’ latest missive for you. A delight as always. And it does feature Niea, so we have not really changed subjects altogether, have we?
Dearest Friends and Subscribers,
How we’ve missed you here in our tiny home amid the great unknown! I apologise profusely for the pause in updates caused by our off-station field study trip. If you know or love a member of our crew, please know that we thought of you constantly throughout our arduous research expedition – even with our ability to correspond restricted.
(And in the event that you do not already know or love one of my colleagues – consider this humble Journalist available in every sense of the word.)
I will not bore you with a full recapitulation of our travels just yet, but I can assure you that ever since we enjoyed our first survey of the Ridge, our spirits have been practically luminescent. To brighten the mood even further, I asked one of the most glimmering presences in our Company, Expedition Specialist Schr Eliniea Hayve Forghe of Intertidal Campus, to beguile you with tales – and tails, perchance? – of the beasts we have encountered thus far in this strange environment.
INTERVIEW WITH SCHOLAR ELINIEA HAYVE FORGHE
Scholar Vincenebras:Our most excellent leader! Our subscribers are simply wild to hear what you have discovered about the flora and fauna of the Ridge.
Scholar Forghe:Greetings, everyone! It is my sincerest hope that everyone who reads these words will have a wonderful day. Though I’m delighted to be here, I’m sorry to report that I don’t have too much to share with you at present.
Vincenebras:Is that because of the tragic dearth of animal life in these parts?
Forghe: Quite the contrary, really! As a Scholar of Life, I do not focus simply on animals and plants like a Scholar of Classification might, of course. I study the environment as a whole – how species interact and cooperate and prey upon each other – you know, from the smallest Diatom to the greatest Whale. When we complete our mission, I will send my findings to the Scholars of Classification on each Campus, and they will help me catalogue what I have observed so far – by which I mean they will identify these species based on their similarities to creatures from other parts of the ocean. Which does make this interview feel rather premature. But surely you already knew that when you asked me, Vincenebras?
Vincenebras:Dear Eliniea, you know all too well that I know almost nothing about anything!
Forghe: No matter. At present, let me share a few observations about a potential new species, which I call the Abyssal Nautilus.
Vincenebras:Would that be, by chance, that veritable giant you encountered with Scholar Cidnosin?
Forghe: Naturally! I assume that at least some of you reading this missive are well acquainted with the Pervasive Nautilus – that charming reef-dwelling denizen that happens to be the symbol of Boundless Campus.
Vincenebras:Of course. I own seven fine tapestries embroidered with various Nautilus designs.
Forghe: Don’t you hail from Intertidal like me, Vincenebras?
Vincenebras:Naturally! I own fourteen fine tapestries embroidered with my beloved Intertidal Campus’ Reclusive Crab insignia, dear Eliniea.
Forghe: I wish I could say the same! At any rate, the Pervasive Nautilus – the most widespread nautiloid species – is a fairly small creature, growing no larger than Vincenebras’ head on average. In fact, it was only last year that Schr Henerey Clel of Boundless Campus recorded a sighting of an extraordinarily large Nautilus—
Vincenebras: One larger than my Generous and Capacious Heart, perhaps?
Forghe: Yet the creature that Sophy and I observed during our expedition measured on a monumental scale previously thought impossible. Its cirri – those appendages one might confuse with tentacles – extended six fathoms from its shell. I suspect it has few natural predators, as even the deep-diving Hardy Toothed Whales might find it too large to take on.
Vincenebras:I tend to agree with their assessment!
Forghe: I should mention that the most remarkable quality of this creature is its bioluminescence. I have never seen a deep-sea species with such a veritable galaxy of natural illumination at its disposal. Though I still have not managed to capture an image of the Nautilus – and therefore it may not be added to the Universal Compendium of Species at present – I took the liberty of sending a verbal description to one of the most celebrated Illustrators working today, Scholar Lerin Zuan Vellen, and hope that with their assistance, everyone may have a chance to look upon the creature’s likeness soon.
Vincenebras:Frankly, I would gladly never look upon it again! Before we conclude, Scholar Forghe, is there anything else you would like to share with the world at large?
Forghe: For my sake, dear readers – if you live in a place that experiences even the smallest amount of biodiversity, go outside or get on the water and admire all the different creatures and plants with whom you share your space! And give my best regards to all birds and shore-flowers – I miss them the most in the Abyss.
INTERVIEW CONCLUDES
Isn’t Scholar Forghe simply divine? I feel blessed to have experienced our most enjoyable interview yet! Now I must away before some great discovery takes place while I sit here scribbling!
With animalistic fervour,
Vincenebras
Dear Sophy,
How long has it been since you sent me this robust of a package? To move from the romance of your long-overdue confession to Niea to the missive from Vincenebras to another letter from my brother – truly, you included everything.
By the way, I’m afraid that “The Scholar of Serendipity”, which Henerey mentioned at one point somewhere in all that, was not a shared tale from our childhood. Never heard of it. (O, bring back the Darbeni quotations, Henerey – at least I can recognise those, inane though they are! Yet even I must admit that poem was strikingly different from Darbeni’s usual oeuvre…)
Have you any more documents from these few days? If not, I do have a letter from E. to Henerey that I assume must have come soon after. Please advise – I am happy to send it over when the time is right.
With care,
Vyerin
Dear Vyerin,
O, you needn’t worry about explaining that reference to me! “The Scholar of Serendipity” is an exceptionally silly tale that Father read to us only once – we all found it rather too trite to hear again! I will try to make my summary as short and bearable as I can. In this story, a Scholar (of unknown identity, obviously, as are so many protagonists found in Fantasies) who struggles with mediocrity – always the third choice in a competition with two prizewinners or the second finalist for a Senior Scholar role but never receiving the actual position – decides that their best course of action is to focus their studies upon Luck itself. The more they investigate “Serendipity”, the more fortunate events transpire. Eventually, by sheer coincidence, they are elevated to the position of Chancellor, and decide to abandon their inquiry into Serendipity in favour of their new duties. Of course, the second their research stops, their luck leaves them. (You have children, Vyerin – do you suspect they would truly enjoy such a fable?)
I will gladly accept your letter from E. to Henerey. However, I must warn you that the part of my archive we must – unfortunately! – read through next may be particularly difficult for me. In fact, I suspect that the document you are about to send me will be closely related to this period. I promise I shall reply, but if it takes longer than usual, please know that I am simply keeping my emotions in check.
Kindly,
Sophy
Dear Sophy,
You will find that letter from E. enclosed. I hope your reading experience will be as bearable as possible.
Please never feel any pressure to respond quickly. (This sentiment has a familiar ring – did my brother not write it to E. several times?) I have plenty to do to occupy myself, you know – you need not think I shall hassle you! The touring season has commenced again in full force, and I am fully booked at least half the time. If I do not have our archive upon which to focus, there are always the (often) amusing and (occasionally) frustrating diversions of the Clel family. Perhaps I shall consider (consider!) caving to my husband and children’s requests that I join their singing exercises to complete the family quartet – an enterprise I have managed to avoid for the past year.
Until we speak again,
V.
P.S. To answer your question – no, as a father, I cannot imagine either of my offspring would care much for a ridiculous, Scholarship-centric story such as you’ve described.
They always perfectly enjoyed the Navigational Treatises with which I lulled them to sleep.