Voah’s Prayer Tent (Part 3)

JP with Voah and Gonyaul:

“Pilgrim, it’s a common word for a person who travels to a sacred place. My family journeyed across the whole of Mizar to each of the shrine cities and beyond. We would stay for a while until and visit the beautiful temples and cathedrals before moving on to the next, there were many nights on the roads and other nights in small villages. But there were always songs and prayers and entertaining.”

“You are from Helias, yes?” she asked, surprised at his lack of knowledge of the common language that prevailed, but even she retained an accent from her native tongue.

Gonyaul took in the unfamiliar scent and found it very complimentary to their conversation. He nodded in understanding now about the word. One answered question just opened many more questions that he wanted to ask. He would have to exercise patience.

“Yes, from Helias.” He had even been through Mizar once while helping someone. Did that count as her question? He assumed so.

“You parents teach you the Otibiok-ihcat dance last night?”

She drew back for a second at the unfamiliar words, thinking, “Our dance? That’s a question I wanted to ask you! No, I learned that as a special dance for Hoi’s Ward. From my mentor in Vastad. Few people know it. I have performed it before because I love it, but never have I met anyone else who knew it. Do you know Abbott Yan’Dian?” she asked.

That would be remarkable.

He didn’t grasp the process that she learned it. It was called Hoi’s Ward? Was this person that taught it Vauxian? Must be, unless … did this dance exist somewhere else and his people adopted it? That is not what he had been taught.

Gonyaul shook his head no to her question, “I know not this person. But am glad taught you.”

He reached across and took her free open hand and gave it a squeeze, but also didn’t let go. The simple contact made the rest of him yearn to hold her.

“You dance amazing. Most beautiful.” He knew the dance inside and out, but never before had the meaning laced in the movements come to life until he saw her perform them. He tried to describe what he experienced. “You like radiant glow, guide my heart on true course close.”

Where was Boyce when you needed help translating. He had only been working on the common language for six years now. Sometimes he felt using it made him seem less articulate and intelligent sounding. His more pitched base, calligraphic glyph alphabet, and grammatical syntax differences had been making the process harder.

“You know what dance means?” He was curious what her explanation would be.