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Splintered Light Chapter 5.4: Point of View

Instruction had never been one of Calus' greater skills. He learned quickly and his lack of patience made it hard for him to teach someone who didn't; Archibald Lews was a good example of someone who didn't. The Great Dane threw his paws up in the air in frustration, switching from Mehnzilian back to Ilysean as he exclaimed "I don't even know why I gotta learn all these words-- I mean... I already speak Mehnzilian just fine!"

Calus closed the book he had open and let out a steadying breath, licking each of his eyes in turn. It was not a noble trait, and one that he'd tried to wean himself off of but sometimes there were moments when blinking just didn't have the centering sensation of a tongue eye wash, and he really needed that centering moment. Taking in another deep breath, the Salamander tried to explain it again... for the third time. Regardless, he continued speaking Mehznilian. "It is about conflict resolution. The better you are able to express yourself verbally the less likely you will have to resort to violence."

Archie snorted, picking his own book up off his lap and dropping it on the small end table that separated them. Calus' room was of decent size (not as large as he would have liked) but having the hulking sailor in it with him provided much less space. The Dog stood up and began pacing, but, to his credit, switched back to Mehnzilian. "Yeah? Well I know what 'conflict' and 'resolution' mean now but I still wanna punch somethin'... Dogs ain't made fer books, Master Len... we ain't."

Despite the fact that grammar had been a focus in recent days, Calus was willing to let Archibald's lack of it slide; it was definitely time for a break. "Mr. Lews, perhaps we should set the books aside for a time and let your mind rest."

The Dog stopped pacing and immediately returned to his seat, surprisingly obedient once something he so obviously desired was offered. Mr. Lews carefully closed the book and carefully aligned it with center of the small table. "Well.. yeah. Sure. So... Cap'n said that we're in here for four hours, but it hasn't been that long... so now what?"

Calus offered his most reassuring smile, and switched to Ilysean. "A break, perhaps. You've spent so much time learning about Mehnzilian and I've spent so little time learning about you. Perhaps we could talk in YOUR language for a time and you can tell me more about yourself... I admit, I know next-to-nothing."

Archibald shrugged, but willingly switched to Ilysean; he did much better with his native tongue. "Eh. There isn't a lot to say, Master Len... I'm a sailor from Ilyse. I'm more interested in how you can keep all these languages straight in your head."

The Salamander sat back in his chair, hoping his more relaxed posture would be adopted by the sailor; it was. "You are paid to be a sailor and to know how to manage the operation of a ship. I am paid to understand communication and to know how to manage the operation of a discussion. It is not really all that different."

The Dog let out a bleated 'ha', and wiped his paws off on his waist wrap. "Yeah? Well mostly what I do is lift heavy things, listen to orders, and pull cables."

Calus appreciated the self-depreciation; he had expected it from the Dog who, despite having an outgoing personality, had quite the negative self-image. "And mostly what I do is listen and speak. We are both far more than our job descriptions, my friend."

The way Archibald sat up a little straighter and the Dog's sudden intense gaze left the Salamander with the impression that something was said that held a certain significance to Mr. Lews. The Dog reinforced that thought in the way his head cocked to the side a little before he spoke. "You... ah... really think I'm more than my job, huh?"

The translator nodded emphatically. "Of course! If you were 'just a sailor' then you'd be speaking Mehnzilian all the time, and you'd be dressed in the same thing everyone else wore. You'd be completely unremarkable... but I find that you are most interesting, Mr. Lews. You are a unique individual, and I believe that shows prominently."

The Dog flicked an ear. "Hell's bloody inferno, Master Len... are you still speaking Ilysean? You're using words I don't even know and that's MY language!"

They both shared a laugh at that and Calus was finally able to see that he was starting to get through to him... even if it had taken most of a week. Archibald obviously preferred his native tongue and it was far easier for the Dog to be himself; the Salamander was able to use that to his advantage since people were able to make the greatest progress in self discovery and productive change when they were calm and at ease. "Perhaps when we're done with our language lessons you can teach me something about sailing?"

The Great Dane let out another 'ha', and slapped the table to accentuate it. "I'm not sure I'll ever be 'done', Master Len... I mean, how am I supposed to keep everything straight? You told the Cap'n that you'd teach me another language on top of Mehnzilian? I'm not sure I'll ever even get THAT one down!"

Calus smiled calmly. "I have full faith in you, Mr. Lews. Languages share a lot of similarities and, in essence, they are fundamentally the same: they are for communicating. If you remember sentence structure and grammar then everything else is vocabulary."

The Dog let out a sigh. "Yeah... vocabulary... and I don't even know what 'fundamentally' means, and Ilysean is the language I grew up with."

The Salamander didn't relent, especially since they were technically on break and yet Archibald wasn't opposed to asking questions and learning new things. "Fundamentally means as it pertains to 'fundamentals'. Are you familiar with the word 'fundamental', Mr. Lews?"

The Dog blinked. "My pa used to call church-goers fundamentals."

"You mean fundamentalists?"

Archibald nodded. "Yeah. That."

The Salamander smiled; the Dog had obviously come from an interesting home. "I see. Well... let us not worry about the word for now. Perhaps you would be willing to tell me a little about your family?"

The Dog shrugged. "I guess, if you--"

Calus leaned forward. "In Mehnzilian. It will give you a chance to practice."

The sailor groaned but didn't say no. It was progress.

* * * * * *

The second week of education went better than the first week; Archibald turned out to be much more competent a student than Calus had first expected... and the Salamander was learning patience in turn. The Dog was certainly not translator material but in a relatively short time (for a non-scholar), the sailor had managed to refine his use of Mehnzilian and even managed to spend less time using filler like 'um' as he sought for the right word. It was a significant improvement, and Calus was starting to feel much more optimistic.

Rather than stick with scholastic education, Calus learned that Archibald worked best when provided applicable lessons and so the vast majority of their time focused on general discussion. The Dog's constant improvement was testament to an aptitude for communication that had been largely absent from his life. Despite being boisterous in public, the Great Dane was very reserved in one-on-one conversations and Calus attributed that to the Dog's upbringing and life as a youth.

Based on his hours and hours of conversation with Archibald, the translator learned that the Great Dane was a lone brother amidst a sea of seven sisters. His father worked as a Docker and his mother supplemented income for the family by weaving ropes and repairing nets. Two of his sisters (the ones older than he) spent long evenings away from the house and came back with additional coin for the family... and no questions were ever asked. Four of his five younger sisters aided his mother with her chores while the youngest didn't survive past three so she never got a chance.

Calus had heard many times that most nations had a problem with losing their young; it was not so much a problem in Mehnzil and the translator spent so little time around the common populace that he didn't really have to deal with anything of the sort. He and Archibald spent a fair amount of time discussing the Dog's family; he seemed willing enough to talk about every aspect of it in seeming disbelief that anyone would take so much an interest in what he considered such a mundane topic.

Having left his home just after turning seventeen, the Great Dane hadn't seen his father in nearly a decade. When Calus pressed Archibald for his reasons when it came to leaving the Dog only shrugged. "My ma died two years before that and both my older sisters already left home. My pa didn't need the extra mouth to feed and I didn't want to be locked in port my whole life..."

Based on the way the sailor trailed off at the end, Calus was certain that there was more to the story than that. He felt as though he and Archibald had enough rapport that he could press for more information, and did just that. "What else?'

The Great Dane glanced his way. "Uh... well... I wanted to see the world, and I got a chance to do that when a caravel came into port looking to hire on some new crewmen."

The Salamander nodded thoughtfully and tried a different approach to keep the Dog talking. "And what did your father have to say about it? Did you have a chance to say goodbye to your sisters?"

Archibald shrugged, eyes meandering down to the Mehnzilian dictionary in front of him on the table. The way the Dog switched back over to the Salamander's native language wasn't lost to the translator. "So... what 'social pleasantries' are we going to discuss today? Maybe go over jobs? I don't remember the word for someone who cuts meat."

Calus relented by answering the unspoken question. "Butcher-- In Menhzyl they receive carcasses and slice them down for individual portions... though from what I understand, in Ilyse they are also responsible for slaughtering the animal."

Archibald nodded. "Yeah... that's the word. Butcher."

The Great Dane seemed insistent on changing the subject so the Salamander humored him. "Very well... we'll continue our lesson with job, or 'occupations', which is the formal equivalent of 'jobs'."

That lesson lasted nearly an hour, which meant that their time together for the day was coming to a close. Archibald had done well, as usual, and Calus knew that there wasn't much more for the Dog to learn; he already had a working understanding of Mehnzilian... which meant that it was time to really broaden his horizons. "Very good, Mr. Lews. You've done exceeding well with Mehnzilian."

The sailor shrugged casually. "I already knew a lot of it... you're just helping me fill in the blanks."

The translator offered a neutral smile. "Be that as it may, I do not know how much good continued lessons in Mehnzilian will do for you."

The Great Dane flicked an ear, eying him closely as if trying to determine if some kind of trick were at work. "So... we're done?"

Calus held up a talon. "Hardly, my good man. The Captain said that we were to have these meetings until he said otherwise and I'm not scheduled to meet with him again for another three days."

The big Dog shifted his weight in his chair; the wood creaked beneath him. "So... if you're done teaching me Mehnzilian, what do we do next? I mean, if I'm not going to be up on deck duty, what else am I going to do?"

The Salamander had to be exceedingly careful as to how he approached the next step of his time with the Dog. Treading carefully, the translator decided to counter the question with one of his own. "Is there anyone else on board you'd like to talk to?"

Archibald shrugged. "Eh... if I want to talk to anyone I'll just use Mehnzilian."

Calus smiled, switching to Ilysean. "It's always easier for someone to speak in their native tongue. When we first started meeting down here I know it's what you preferred."

Rather than shoot back with some kind of flippant dismissal, the Great Dane actually paused for a moment to consider it. Whenever Archibald was deep in thought his paws tended to wander and Calus was able to tell that the contemplating was genuine by the way the Dog's right paw slipped under the table to scratch himself somewhere inappropriate. A moment later he had his answer. "Do you remember that whole thing with the North Star, Master Len?"

The Salamander was not about to forget it so easily. "I do."

Archibald shrugged, reaching up to rub at one of his ears and then smooth out the fur on the side of his neck-- still in thought, apparently. "Well... when we were over on the North Star there was another crewman with me... Mr. Jibb. Got himself hurt pretty bad and I had to help him out to get him back to the ship in one piece."

Calus attempted to hide his surprise at the disclosure. "I see... do go on, Mr Lews."

The Great Dane shrugged sheepishly. "I guess it wouldn't be too bad learning Lehsunian so he can thank me proper."

The simple comment revealed far more than the sailor meant for it to, but the Salamander made a point to let it slide by without comment and instead stored the information away for later use. It DID bring up a very good question however and Calus was happy enough to address it. "You saved his life?"

Archibald offered another shrug. "Yeah. I guess."

The Salamander pressed the issue. "Even though he wasn't Ilysean?"

The Dog recoiled as if struck, making a sour face. "Hey-- I may not handle everyone right all the time, but we're shipmates, and that means something."

Calus smiled, and baited the man for a response. "I see... so there's a difference between letting a fellow crewman die and dislocating another's shoulder?"

Rather than be offended, the Great Dane actually laughed, slapping the top of the table with a big paw before speaking candidly in Ilysean. "Oh, yeah-- something tells me you don't have any brothers or sisters, Cal. There's a BIG difference between beating the crap outta family and letting someone ELSE beat the crap outta family."

The informal, almost familiar tone with which the Dog addressed him could have been taken as a slight but Calus was more willing to accept that as a breakthrough; Archibald did not often get along well with anyone from another nation but, as the Salamander had expected, that was due to lack of familiarity rather than an overabundance of intolerance. Unfortunately, that also meant the Dog was treading on thin ice; Calus really wasn't interested in talking about his own family. He gingerly slithered around the topic and elected to keep speaking Mehnzilian when he responded. "No... I suppose I do not quite appreciate the difference, but I respect your candor."

The Great Dane shrugged in response and returned to Mehnzilian too. "You know, Cal... a few days ago I didn't know what 'candor' meant... chances are I might've thought you were insulting me or something."

Calus raised an eyebrow, surprised that Archibald was remaining so informal. "Oh? And what do you think now?"

The Dog smiled, standing as he held out a paw. "I think you're one hell of a good teacher, Master Len."

Providing formal thanks was proof in Calus' mind that the sailor knew exactly how informal he'd been and, although not apologizing for it, was still willing to acknowledge that there was a degree of professionalism between them in their two roles. The Salamander stood and walked around the table to accept the paw, clasping wrists with the sailor. "Only because you have been a good student... Archie."

Archibald's smile widened dramatically when Calus dropped the formality and the big Dog's tail started wagging for the first time that the Salamander could recall. What happened next truly surprised him however as the sailor leaned forward and touched his nose to one side of Calus' face, and then the other. It was a very proper, very genteel Ilysean way of showing thanks and respect and hardly something the translator would have expected. It was such a surprise that Calus almost let slip his entire demeanor when he questioned blankly "Where did you learn THAT, exactly?"

The Dog's ears reddened significantly as he admitted "Well... you're meeting with the Cap'n in a few days, and I met with him yesterday. I asked him the right way to say thank you in polite company, and that's what he told me... did I do it right?"

Calus' smile widened further yet; he was not normally a Salamander that appreciated surprises, but pleasant ones weren't unacceptable now and again. "Of course, Archie... you did indeed perform the--"

Their discussion was cut short when the door to the translator's quarters was knocked open by a powerful kick followed by a wrathful shout "LEWS!"

Calus turned to regard the origination of the rude interruption and, in the split second of looking down the barrel of a pistol, immediately regretted pivoting to the right; he had put himself in the line of fire. There was a loud explosion and the translator's vision was filled with smoke-- smoke and red. The impact of the pistol shot didn't have the violent, explosive force the Salamander had imagined, rather, there was a piercing cold, followed by a burning pain. He fell back into Archie's arms.

Calus Len's vision was overcome by blackness, blotting out the sight of a surprised Doelichian Marmot standing paralyzed with the discharged weapon still in paw.