Library Entry - Flame Sculptures
Contacts - Kteaa Aoweh - Itinerant Engineer
Kteaa Stories:
Kasiyl Knows Kteaa
An Aslan female plays an autoharp by a fountain of leaping fish shaped from water. The notes are not, quite, random. The notes flow and dance, playing with the fish-shaped water figures. Some people stop and listen, nodding heads to the rise and fall of the music. It is obvious to those that stay, that there isn't a song being played. Notes flow, then abruptly change to a different range or octave, or run in a different tempo. The player will occasionally stop, touch a device beside her, and notes will come from the device, replaying notes just heard.
A group of Aslan males enters the area, walking and talking in Trokh. The discussion is quiet, but heated. One of the males stops and looks at the female Aslan. It is obvious to all that the male is transfixed by the female.
The male group has continued to walk, but suddenly realizes that one of their group is no longer with them. They turn to see the male, and follow his gaze to the female.
The leader of the males shouts. The transfixed male turns his gaze to the male group. The leader speaks for a few minutes. The transfixed male looks back at the female, sighs, and rejoins the group.
The group continues out of the area, heated discussion resumed. Just as they leave the area, the transfixed male looks back over his shoulder towards the fountain.
Those spectators who pay attention will note that the autoharp player will draw a deep breath and forcefully blow it out. She will bow her head, shiver, then look up at the fountain and the leaping fish, and continue to play.
Later in the day, an elegantly dressed Aslan female is walking through the Bazaar, looking over the wares. She stops to admire some instruments, particularly some with keyboards. She doesn't notice the approach of an Aslan male until he is within a pace of her.
The male speaks to the back of the female, startling her. She turns abruptly, nearly hits the male standing very close, and almost falls backwards, if not for the table now directly behind her.
Words are spoken, but as they are in Trokh, few if any understand them. Initially it seems friendly, if anxious. The female is flustered, and the male is increasingly aggressive.
The Shop Attendant attempts to intervene, but is negligently batted away by the Aslan male, who doesn't even look away from the female. The Shop Attendant crumples to the ground a few feet away, from what appeared to be an effortless cuff, but was in reality quite forceful.
Out of nowhere, a Human appears between the two Aslan. The Human male is half the size of the Aslan male, but the chest of the Human male is firmly pressed against the belly of the Aslan male. "Back away from the Lady, Furball!"
The Human is in ship's coveralls, a ship's jacket and has a satchel over one shoulder. The satchel bears the Red Crystal, a symbol recognized widely to identify medical personnel and equipment. The size difference between the two doesn't seem to trouble the Human in the slightest.
Before the startled Aslan answers, the Human places a foot between the Aslan's, and pushes off his back foot. This forces the Aslan back a few steps. Before the Human can follow up, the Aslan female places her hands on the shoulders of the Human and pulls him against her chest. Trokh words are spoken loudly at the Aslan male from the female. There is little doubt that the Aslan male was winding up for a strike, but pauses.
"Please remove your hands, Lady," the Human says, not looking away from the Aslan male.
"Human, you don't understand," the Lady replied. "You could get yourself killed." The Aslan female speaks again to the Aslan male. The Trokh words are spoken with some urgency.
Hawk Warriors appear. They step close to the two beligerents. "Please stand down, Gentlemen." The words are firm, and convey a no-nonsense tone. The Aslan female speaks to the Aslan male in Trokh. There are words passed between the two. The female speaks firmly, but calmly. The male is loud and gestures emphatically at the Human male.
The Aslan female shrugs her shoulders in a very Human gesture. She responds quietly, and gestures to the Hawk Warriors and the Human. She tilts her head to one side and looks askance at the Aslan male. The lady speaks again, and gestures toward the nearest exit of the Bazaar. Through the archway comes another Aslan male, striding regally towards the group.
The new arrival speaks as he approaches. “Please excuse Hlao. He is not familiar with Human customs. Warriors, if you please, I will take Hlao into my custody.” Then, words are spoken to the other Aslan male, firm and rapid. There is attitude in the words.
Once the Trokh words stop, one of the Warriors addresses the new arrival, “Lord Kasiyl, thank you for your prompt response to our call. If you can resolve this situation peacefully, it would be greatly appreciated.” Lord Kasiyl gives the Warrior a nod.
“I will try.” Lord Kasiyl turns to Hlao, and more Trokh is spoken. Hlao answers, gesturing first toward the Aslan female, and then more vigorously towards the Human male that intervened. Hlao was distinctly annoyed with the Human, making a few gestures toward him, and the words, even in Trokh, were not hard to surmise.
The Aslan female interjected, “Lord, your associate does the Human a disservice. I recognized the word "stii". I know a few words of Trokh. I suspect the Human does not. Otherwise, a peaceful resolution to this situation would not be likely. Should I tell the Human what Hlao has said, so the Human can make his own judgment of the insult to him?”
“Please refrain from making things worse, Honoured Scholar Kteaa Aoweh. You are known to me. Most find you exotic and very intriguing. I tried to dissuade Hlao from attempting to engage you in a relationship. I think it wouldn’t work out to anyone’s advantage. Correct me if I am in error, but one would expect Hlao is too Aslan for you.”
Kteaa sighs. “My coming to the Outrim Void to find someone compatible as a mate was such a flawed idea. However, the science was irresistible. I regret that my presence causes trouble. How shall we proceed? Offence has been taken.”
“Leave Hlao to me, please.” Lord Kasiyl turns to the Human male. “Sir. What possessed you to step between two Aslan? You could have been killed.”
The small, to Aslan, man laughs. He looks Hlao up and down, with a wry smirk, and turns back to Lord Kasiyl, “I could take him out before he even knew I touched him. Size isn’t everything, and I know exactly where to cut him to cripple him, or kill him. I may wear a Healer’s symbols, but I know all too well how to take out an opponent. I’ve done it too many time in combat over 20 years.” With a thumb over his shoulder in a dismissive gesture toward Hlao, the man finishes with, “This guy is just a bully.”
Lord Kasiyl laughs. “You don’t lack for bravery. Who are you?”
“My name is Mikhel Dromah, ex-Marine Combat Medic. Now Ship’s Doctor on the Pioneer. And I don’t take too kindly to bullies picking on anyone. The fine lady here, included. I’ve seen her around the Floating Palace, and I appreciate her music. She is entitled to some respect, and not to be accosted in the street like a common streetwalker. Even an ignorant Human could see that the Lady didn’t appreciate this jerk’s attention.”
Hlao drew breath to speak, but Lord Kasiyl raised a finger and focused a withering glare at him. Turning to Mikhel, Lord Kasiyl sighed. “Hlao will want a piece of you. He considers himself offended. I would. However, I know Human ways, somewhat. You were taking the position of champion, no? And within Aslan culture, it was exactly right, if you were of the Honoured Scholar’s clan. Which you are not. By culture, we can waive this aside as a misunderstanding. Hlao will not be happy, but I can rule this. What say you?”
Mikhel turns to Kteaa. “Lady, what say you?”
Kteaa is aghast. “No! No violence over me. That is not the way of Darian culture, nor of the Scholar. And I would not want a Human to bleed for Aslan intolerance.”
Mikhel turns to Lord Kasiyl. “There you have it. Hlao is spared the public humiliation of a combat loss to an opponent half his size.”
Lord Kasiyl frowns. “I can’t give this to you, Human. I can’t relay this exchange to Hlao honestly, without him taking offence. You can’t beat him in personal combat. He will slice you apart.”
Mikhel responds, “Can he shoot?” Best out of five at a target? Paintballs at each other? Looser apologizes to the winner?”
“I will ask.” Lord Kasiyl speaks to Hlao. Hlao roars in anger. Lord Kasiyl speaks a bit more, in a calm tone. Hlao replies with words, and a lot of spit. Hlao is very angry. Hlao looks daggers at Mikhel, who stands there with a smirk and crossed arms. Kteaa looks on appalled.
One of the Warriors looking on spoke up. “Lord Kasiyl. Honour demands that I inform you of M. Dromah’s skill. Last time M. Dromah appeared in formal dress, he wore an Imperial Marines insignia for marksmanship. That insignia suggests he demonstrated a very high level of skill many, many times. He won’t likely lose a contest for shooting, unless Hlao is a gifted marksman.”
Mikhel gives the Warrior a dirty look. “True. Lord Kasiyl, I was setting up Hlao as he is likely attempting to set me up to lose in a challenge. Warrior Phraedh is keeping me honest, and I appreciate his candor. Whatever is decided, I am willing to face Hlao. If it is with a knife or some other challenge, he accosted the lady, and that was not acceptable.”
“Hmmh.” Lord Kasiyl looks over Hlao, and then gives Mikhel a top-to-bottom inspection. Lord Kasiyl speaks aloud, projecting his voice so all around could hear. The first part in Trokh, and then repeated in Galangic, “Two people have offended each other. Both are willing to challenge, and are not willing to back down. Both are at fault, for different reasons. I honour both of them, and respect their individual bravery. They are from different cultures and clans. I offer a peaceful settlement, rather than potentially wounding each other. This is not binding, but the Honoured Scholar has requested that no-one bleed for offences offered her. If Hlao will offer an apology to Kteaa Aoweh, the Honoured Scholar of the Drinaxian Scholar’s Tower, for disrupting her day, and if M. Dromah, of the Pioneer, will offer an apology to the Aslan Hlao, of the Ahroay’if, for affronting him, will that cancel out the need for a challenge?”
Hlao looks disgusted. Trokh words are muttered, and Kteaa blanches. Lord Kasiyl gives Hlao a measured glare.
Mikhel smiles. “I will apologize if Hlao does. My challenge is due to the offence to her.”
Mikehl bows fully to Hlao. “Honoured Warrior Hlao. I would most like to meet you in challenge. But, I champion the Lady Kteaa. She requests a peaceful settlement.” Mikhel straightens up and looks Hlao directly in the eyes. “I offer my sincere apology for pushing you. My enthusiasm to defend an Honoured Scholar overtook my decorum. I will not touch you again, outside of challenge, or sparring.”
Lord Kasiyl looks Mikhel over, again. “Well said. I can honestly translate that to Hlao. Thank you.” Lord Kasiyl turns to Hlao and speaks in Trokh. Hlao keeps his eyes on Mikhel throughout the translation.
Hlao blows out air. Looking at Lord Kasiyl, he speaks a few words. A question. Lord Kasiyl replies. Kteaa whispers in Mikhel’s ear, “Hlao asks if the words are truly translated.” Lord Kasiyl speaks again. Hlao speaks some more, and Kteaa whispers, “Hlao wants honour, but maybe with Humans and ‘Others’, allowances could be made.”
Hlao turns to Mikhel. He speaks, and Ktea translates, “Sparring? You would spar with ME?”
Mikhel laughs. “Yes. I wouldn’t likely win, but I’d learn some things. Perhaps we could teach each other some tricks, or even skills?” Lord Kasiyl translates for Hlao.
“You are foolhardy, or reckless, Human. Perhaps we should learn which?” Hlao draws himself up. “Human, hear my words.” Hlao turns to Kteaa, “Honoured Scholar, I did not wish to disrupt your day. I wished to learn of you, and heeded not the words of my liege to stay away. I fumbled badly in my approach to you. Please forgive my awkwardness. Perhaps we could start over under better circumstances?”
Kteaa bows to Hlao, “To me, you were rude at best. I forgive your awkwardness, and more, I appreciate your restraint and resolve to forgive one not learned in the Aslan way. All honour to you, Hlao.”
Lord Kasiyl looks everyone over. “Are we able to part without conflict? Is honour intact?”
Kteaa nods. Mikhel watched her, and turns to Lord Kasiyl and Hlao in turn, and gives a ¼ bow to each. Hlao nods to Kteaa and Mikhel. Lord Kasiyl nods to the Hawk Warriors and gestures to Hlao to lead on towards the exit of the Bazaar.
As they leave, Mikhel gives the Hawk Warriors the “Got your backs” signal, and turns toward the Shop Attendant, pulling out his MediScanner. “Are you OK? Do you need medical assistance?” The Shop Attendant by now was sitting up, and rubbing his chest.
“No, no. I’ll be alright. I didn’t expect to get swatted quite so hard. I just stumbled and tripped. I thought I was going to have a front-row seat to the biggest fight in the Bazaar in years!”
Mikhel helped the man to stand, and looked over the readout on the scanner. “Do you want anything for pain or swelling?”
“I’m OK. Thanks for checking, though. Really appreciate that. Now to check out if any of my goods have walked in the ruckus.” The Shop Attendant went back to his tables and looked them over.
Kteaa waited until Mikhel packed away his scanner and re-positioned his satchel. “Thank you for your assistance. You were very brave. So. A Combat Medic with 20 year’s experience, and a Marksman. Not a usual combination?”
“Is there somewhere you’d like to be escorted, Lady?” Mikhel responded. “Yes. It drove my unit commanders crazy that their medic was one of their best shots, but wouldn’t kill anyone, if they weren’t a threat to the wounded. However, I’ve been in too many fights that required I defend injured, or incapacitated, soldiers.”
“Very unfortunate.” Kteaa shook her head as they walked toward the exit. “Do you think you could have won a challenge against Hlao?”
Mikhel laughed. “No. Not really. But, it wasn’t a fight to the death. Unless Hlao is really a dishonorable individual. If they let me use a knife, I had a decent chance to mess him up badly, though. We both would have been bleeding.”
“You would bleed for a stranger? Not even someone of your clan?” Kteaa was puzzled.
“Any sentient being deserves respect and peace. Hlao gave you neither. He deserved a cuff upside the head, at least.” Mikhel was adamant. He smiled up at Kteaa. “You, especially, deserve some respect. Any time I hear music in the Gallery, I look and see you. The bits I hear you play are really nice. I’d like to hear a complete song sometime, though.” Mikhel wonders at the sound of Kteaa's voice. Her Trokh was more musical than the lilts of the two Aslan males, but that could have been accents? However, Kteaa's Galanglic also seemed very musical. It was very pleasant to listen to her speak. Mikhel wondered if the music she composed was matched to words she was not singing aloud.
“I’m not playing for anyone, but working on background music for my sculpture. The one I intend to build. With water and flame.” Kteaa was looking off in the distance as she spoke.
“You build these fountains? Wow!” Mikhel was impressed.
“No! Not I. All the fountains in the Floating Palace were built long ago. As I work with the Scholars of the Tower, and try to maintain the existing sculptures, I learn to adapt my flame sculpture knowledge to the technique used in the water sculptures. There are different dynamics, fluid mechanics for air are very different for water. Water is uncompressible, so there are serious differences to the process. Things I took for granted working with fire that just doesn’t work with water.”
“You do flame sculptures, though. That’s impressive, too! Any I might have seen?” Mikhel wonders why he hasn’t ever heard of this person.
“Torpol Highport has one of my flame sculptures. In the main arm gallery. Perhaps one day, it will be famous. Probably after I am gone, though.” Kteaa laughs. “I am off to the Tower, now. Thank you for your help today, Mikhel. Perhaps you can say hello, next time you hear me in the Gallery?”
“That I will do.” Mikhel give Kteaa a bow, and turns back toward the Royal Docks.
