A Castrovel Adventure: Part 5, Chapter 56

~O'mei Vaeol-Ile thalya evole o Doathala.~ (In which Lady Vaeol seeks destiny in the Gameyard.)

From the Daylog of Vaeol-Zheieveil Yaranevae be’Son

Motorae Eve, 24,547 - 19th Month in Qabarat
Erenow, I slept maybe two belltides after we came home this eventide. Now, though my body still wearies, with Midwatch my mind has wakened. So I may well set time to good use and upcatch this log.
This morn, Remaue and I left our children with their fathers. By nextbell and with Kaure, we headed early to the Gameyard under a light sky that might open or might darken, and dry streets. There we met Master Evauess, who as my coach owned right to intread the listroom. I have already bewritten the great Gameyard’s wonder, bigger than anything on Asana. Yet the listrooms, holding the ground floor and opening through stoneboughs upon the yard, are no less wonderful. They hold kitchens, baths, weaponstocks, healthwards for the gamers’ welfare, and furthermore shelter for any number of hoverball teams, grooms, shieldbearers, warriors, and Shotalashu, along with all gear needful for the ground’s upkeep between matches, as if Qabarat’s matrons had forethought all the Games might ever need. There we greeted the game marshal, who benamed us a stall. I stretched, walked the yard ere the grooms readied it, and chose a game weapon, which Remaue betrusted was well blunt. Kaure kneaded my back and shoulders while we awaited the gametrial’s start. Slowly the other fighters introd while even more slowly watchers filled the watchstands overhead, until time to gird.
I could but wonderfully believe the sheen Remaue had put on my helm and byrnie: Son’s silversun badge gleaming on the breastdish, and the golden bead smart on my helm’s brim. It hid the welded mend amid the blue damask, and matched my scar (whereon she had already laid goldgum). I welcomed the byrnie’s weight like and old friend and shieldmate while I donned greaves, weaponkilt, armbands, and neckward. Remaue tried all my straps while Kaure, with more high stallsomeness than needed, upyielded the swordbill. After I set it aside, I crushed them both in a Shota-hug and tangled antennae ere we stood to the marshal’s oversight.
The horns outcalled the Matronhood’s coming, and time quickened. The crowd’s din grew, which we bewared making the listroom’s wallshafts hum. Then the marshals strode through and bade us don helm for the showmarch while the herald sang our names.
I strode through the stonebough onto the yard, and the crowd’s roar smote like a queenslayer’s shriek. I caught short sight of tallyless, dizzying bodies in the watchstands, and then dared look no more. A warmind-like thrillsome throb staggered us all as I witted my fellow fighters doing samely, grounding mood and settling hearts. When the herald called my name, I heard both buzzes and hisses, since my nameworth recks strifesome. Yet right then the sky opened, and the sun smote. All aring the yard our helms and byrnies glowed. The crowd started a hymn-dance worshiping Burning-Mother’s blessing upon the Games. Likewise, I took it as an omen and, reckless of the dizzy din, grounded soul, raised my swordbill overhead, and hailed the sun goddess. My deed earned a small cheer.
Then arear and overhead, I heard an else song: Son’s elder anthem! I swerved back and, though I could not see beyond the yardwall and the packed throng, again hailingly raised. Anon, a small young mind touched mine: Aeosel my son doubtlessly sitting on his father’s mighty shoulder. I outboded love and swore to make him proud.
This gametrial tallied more than two hundred footwarriors benamed the doughtiest Damaya in Qabarat. At best of three strokes to win a match and one-loss outhood, it forelooked a long daytide needing eight wins to own the championship. With so many fighters, even this great gameyard could not hold all the first match-set. Thus I and other elder warriors withdrew back to the listroom, tarried, and awaited call where we watched the first fights. Bywardly, the herald again sang my name, and also my match-foe’s: Lady Thazani u’Zhale Anmaue.
I shrive reckfulness while I strode the yard’s sand (and with Remaue as shieldbearer, since this was a high weapondare). Dimly I reminded Thazani’s helm and byrnie with the Spearcradle badge from our Battleyard drills, elsewise unbemarksome with her shieldbearer. To beckon speech, I raised helm. She did likewise, baring a green face and younger with golden eyes. They drew to my golden scar and rosy stripes while she gazed. Though I guessed our weapontrial’s sake, I hailed: ~O’sheazya-shyae o dohisaea roef rualassya o’ruhimassi iheshi-mya,~ - “Tell me so I know the offthank I gave to call this dare.”
Lady Thazani’s eyes narrowed. She answered I should rightly know I had brought a Korasha into an outrider’s drilltide, and thus had mishonored outriderhood. With my guess atrusted, I outspoke that, instead of speaking straight to me, Lady Thazani had boded sake to Lady-Mistress Kael like a whispery schoolmaid, making her headmistress bode it to Her Highness at the Embassy. I then bewrayed that, after I had ended the drilltide at the ladies’ behest, her sister-outriders must have misgiven Thazani's deed, and that only under guilt had she dared me.
I watched Thazani blink and her antennae waver behind her crest’s spokes. Then I outspoke that Lady Thazani, not Kaure, mishonored outriderhood, and that my wifemate would become a far worthier outrider.
Thazani shoved helm down over her face. She struck leavelessly, since the marshals had not bidden the match begin. I recked not my own helm, but instead ducked her stroke and outthrust: a newling’s trick that would not wontfully work, but that my foe’s wrath grew too strong. My swordbill’s tip hit right on her breastdish and halted her midstride. There she wobbled awkwardly and earned some naughty laughter from the watchers.
The marshals straightway yelled foul at Thazani’s breach of the Games’ bylaws. I answered I would forgive the foul if they deemed the match started and tallied the hit toward my win. They then bequeathed Lady Thazani choice between the foul casting her from the Games or aletting the hit. Ashamedly she let the hit. Then I stood, dropped helm, and set weapon award.
At the marshals’ behest, our march earnestly began. We sidestepped, reading each other. I soon besoothed anger still tightened her. Thus with a flinch, I made her overbehave and instrode. When she brunted, I tightly twirled my billtip, sidestepped again, and swung. My blade crashed against her helm, wrenching the crest spokes and twisting over her face. The marshals yelled halt and raised fans, beckoning my next hit and the match’s win.
Lady Thazani straightened her helm. She glared at me with an eye I can only name hateful. Then against all lawfulness, she raised weapon and struck again. I shucked her blow and struck back, making her ward and withdraw, even ere the marshals yelled shameless halt and the crowd overhead hissed. I strode back and stood sharp. Their wroth antennae swerved to her. Then the marshals bade her leave the Gameyard forthwith. While she offheaded, I aftercalled: ~Eiesi relesya,~ - “Think on honor.” I reckon she foremeets a stern word from Lady-Mistress Kael, if not a guilt-trial under her fellows.
Remaue muttered she might happily give Lady Thazani her own beating while we walked back to our stall, where others goodwillingly cheered my win. Kaure leaping almost bounced free of her halter while Master Evauess chuckled. Then his finger beckoned upward. ~Dei lya niris?~ - “Do you hear that?” I heard the crowd’s roar, and my name within. ~Kaolya miaveadis,~ - “You have earned their goodwill,” he beread, and that their mood would uphold me laterward.
Kaure and Remaue offdrew my byrnie, since the next two match-sets trended slowly with so many fighters. It bestood well to tarry since some fighters had gotten byes in the first match-set. I redonned harness in good time for the next match, which was against a firstspear named Loess, and samely against the third, another firstspear named Shamaeul. Although doughty, I beat them both in my old fighting-wise, with which shrewdness I forereckoned to start. Then for my fourth match against Damyane Elderspear, I shifted warcraft. Soon as the match forelooked to run long while we danced about each other, I gathered soulmight and shot a thrust straight at her heart, which struck so strong I dented the dish. My hit so shook her that she lost groundness, and I easily won the match. Thereafter, I brooked soulmight whenever the match lengthened, so to ward my strength and to overawe the crowd and my foes with swiftness.
I came back from my fifth bout beating Mishae Firstspear, and found Master Evauess again chuckling. When I asked his fun, he told he had right come from overhearing some of my erstwhile foes the only thing they could see of my face within my helm’s hollow was my scar’s golden sheen. ~O’roe rise Shaverazere-Halaeazere!~ he quipped: “They know they fight the Thiefqueen-Slayer!” Idly I eyed my helm Remaue had taken and again witted the gold-damasked notch. She winked. ~O’tollae hanimya aeiestam,~ - “We have long forethought this day,” she whispered.
I won my sixth match in the same wise against Larei, who was forsoothly a shieldbearer to Lady Hivaemye of the Issendil Outriderhood, but so worthily doughty that often she teaches footwarriors. This win put me within the last eightsome, whereat the marshals halted to reset the yard. Thereafter, we would fight one match each under the watchers’ eyes. Then they called us outstaying to the yard’s midst and showed us to the Matronhood and the buzzing crowd, and whereby we got hap to reckon each other.
Right when we hailed, a drizzle started. I breathed a thankful hymn to Shotaviras and Father-Sky, since over the daytide the sand had slowly been drying, making footwork harder and strengthening the long game. For the fight I foreminded, I wished hard ground.
When we came back to the listroom, we found Less merrily waiting - how he reached this sundry stead I know not. He showed a hefty handful of moonbits he had won betting on me, and then asked whether I wished to know my odds of winning the gametrial. I naysaid and bade him leave me peaceful. Yet Remaue kissed her fathermate and yielded a moonbit.
My next match stood against Lady Keaeul, who with me stood as the last two outriders in the gametrial. We hailed each other couthly, and many doubtlessly forelooked a dainty outrider fight. Yet I deemed the tide ready to again shift warcraft. Soon as the marshals’ fans waved, I brooked the freshly damp sand to leap and thrust. When she sidestepped to offdraw, I brunted full strength, slamming my haft against hers. So mightily I shoved that she fell, and the marshals yelled halt, misdreading a foul.
Lady Keaeul looked queerly at me when they asked the truth. I brought my swordbill to hail and asked: ~Dei thanya-shyalze o’risassi li keiahassi?~ - “Did you come to fight or dance?” She answered she took no foul.
After we reset and started again, Lady Keaeul stayed more warily, fearing another brunt, and strove to fight at length. Yet I played the yard against her, and when she struck, I forestalled and neatly thrust her helm’s crest. Then for the next stride I again brunted, and while she scrambled off, I smote her thigh. The crowd roared wonderfully while Lady Kaeaul looked seekingly, as if she had never seen anyone fight like me. Then she stood sharp, hailed, and acknowledged my win, which I answered even so.
As the last foursome, I matched against Shovae Firstspear, a well-known drillteacher who had won the gametrial eight years ago, and who like me came back after a babe. We smote each other at the first stride and reset. Then after a few daring steps, I again brunted, slammed breast to breast, and hit her hip when she offstaggered. Under the watchers’ shameless yells we started a third stride, wherein she brooked the gameyard’s full breadth to withdraw, play a long game, and found hap to thrust my shoulder. At swift-death for the last, we reset at the yard’s midst, and then at the fan I let her try the same gambit but afterhunted more shrewdly. When she tried to sidle back to midyard, I withstood and threatened another brunt until again she withdrew. After a long wary struggle, she tried to flee from the yardwall. Yet then I brunted, shoved her against the wall, and then ruthlessly showered blows until one rang her helm. The marshals’ fans raised while another roar grew the watchstand overhead, and also a few hisses against what some might misdeem unwifelike (and surely unoutriderlike) behavior. Yet over the hisses and buzzes, I heard another word, whether gleeful or shameful I knew not: ~Yi Korasha!~ - “Like a Korasha!”
While I caught breath and let the rain wash my brow, Remaue, Kaure, and Master Evauess jogged out to midyard and with winewater. Kaure took my helm while the yardmaster held my swordbill and Remaue overlooked all my straps. Then they hugged me in shift while we unheeded the overall cheerdances. Master Evauess knelt and kissed my byrnie. ~Komadise,~ he cheered: “You have done it.” Then he added: ~Roes yereo’soari-mi risis,~ - “You know whom you now fight next.”
I knew whom he meant, for I had been watching her all day, every shift and step. I had minded every trick and timing, for I had foreseen this tide, as I guessed she also had done me. From the listroom’s stonebough showed a beweaponed shape and her helpmate slowly walking. I knew she was Demante. Yet for now, I chose to unheed her.
Instead, I looked to the watchstands overhead. I sought a flag white with a red-gold sun: my flag, which I knew surely would be waving among the crowd. I soon found it, although, in all steads, to the right of the Matronhood’s deck, where in a sidebox sat Her Highness Lady Sheneal and Son’s peacebode. At the forerail I spotted Oshis bearing Aeosel our son and Tesine on his other shoulder. Straightway my mind flew to my two most beloved men. Aeosel recked merely that his father and all our housemates giddily cheered his mother’s winfulness and so giddily answered. Yet Oshis’s mind glowed with fierce pride that his flagwife and mothermate had reached the gametrial’s last match of the world’s greatest city. Right behind stood Erymi striving to uphold their daughter lest she topple, and beside Less likewise bearing Yaraess and Lanaryel with Tae behind, and Meiss with Lenis and Sievae, Hanos beside Draue’s boys while she and Nae overlooked arear. Yet then on Oshis’s side, I saw not only Semuane and Rivale but also her mothers, and then Hauronil, Indith, and Leiendil. Behind the peacebode’s box I then spotted bright headscarves: Minal and most of her shipclan, and mingled with them the Lemussa yardfellows. Together they sang Son’s anthem and made themselves heard even over the other crowd’s din. I took my swordbill, raised it overhead, and took their love in blessing.
Only then did I swerve, bringing swordbill to hail and hand to breast. Demante stood with helm under arm and antennae lightly upright. She looked back to the watchstand and asked whether there was my flag. I yaysaid, adding my son watched. She asked his years, which I answered he is almost four. She told her daughter and son also watched. We stayed staring while the marshals overread last whits with the herald, who also awaited leave from the Matronhood to start the last match.
Although I had not ere known, by Demante’s harness I read she was a firstspear like so many else who had fought in this gametrial. I saw marks and dents in her mean blackwork, unbeaded but for Qabarat’s blue gem upon her heart. Doubtlessly my breastdish damasked and gilded, even with its dents, must seem to her shamelessly overdone. Demante bemarked never in known history had an outrider come so far in the foot-trial. She shortly nodded to Master Evauess, and had wondered often seeing me nigh the Lemussa Weaponyard. ~Ezima qoanda dumanta,~ - “Much has become eyesome.”
~Sheilaf…~ she akept: ~o’dei zhefuali-stimya meavis honyaeassya,~ - “I wonder whether you have any tricks left.”
~Imya shilya,~ - “Merely one,” I answered while I took helm from Kaure. Yet if my foe wondered on the trick I hinted, she asked not. Forsoothly, I had but one trick, if any: I would readily give Demante my best fight, even as she would doubtlessly give hers. She had won yesteryear’s other stead, and until now had been this gametrial’s best odds-bearer, though I reckoned I had shifted the odds. Then we took weapons and stood before each other while the marshal’s asked readiness and Remaue again overlooked me like a mother-shota.
Ere I drew down my helm, I called: ~Uthara relesya-shyalis,~ - “You honor your children.”
~Shyae relesya saolya,~ answered Demante sharply: “Give me your blade’s honor.” Then she likewise lowered helm, and we both bore weapons to hail while we awaited the mashal’s fan.
The fan fluttered like a blossomfly’s wing. It matched my mood.
Unlike most weapontrials, and unlike the crowd’s hush, we neither tightened nor yielded any beck the match had started, else than mindfulness aimed wholly on each other and maybe our antennae seeking behind our crests. We sparred by mood the lightest shifts, reckoning what a footweight might behave. At such a shared hint, anon we both thrust and smote each other. The watchers wildly yelled while the marshals offwaved the hit, which din faded to a thrillsome buzz. After we reset, we unhurriedly began until another footshift made us ring about, seeking behoof ere we both withdrew and reset again. So we staidly strove at length, our billtips hardly wiggling.
Athought to find behoof and take the lead, I dwimmered a striketruth and shot straight at her breast. By some wonder, however, Demante bent backward and ducked, my blade weakly scraping her byrnie. She then sprang upward and forth and loosened her own shot, which my haft offswerved. Then we both rushed near and crashed hafts and byrnies, proving we both forsook a dainty Damaya fight for rougher and wrathfuller.
Although I reckoned her almost so strong as I, our crash shook her. For a slim tidebit she lost evenweight. I sidled and smote her thigh. The whole Gameyard thundered while the marshals’ fans rose high. Demante nodded at me ere we came back to midyard. I deemed her mood unbroken, overreckoning the slight miss that had let my hit. She would not so mistake again.
When the match reset, we again stood still, striving by mood and weight while the Gameyard bequeathed a worshipful swyness. Then almost as if mindlinked, we both struck and missed since we also ducked, then again, and thrice. Thereat we strode back and loosely walked aring, running through our foes’ known strengths ere again we stood ward.
I tried a plightier onslaught: loosening my forehand, I full-strode and thrust with my rear hand to strike from further length. Demante dodged and behooved my weapon’s overweight and brunted while I rewarded. I ran backward a long span ere she caught me, When she smote, I had already dwimmered a Foretelling-Ward, and so knelt in the sand, letting her stroke fly over my crest while her body ran after. Aknee, I swerved back and swung my swordbill upward and into her body. Yet for another time she made an uncanny backbend, wherein my blade scraped up her byrnie and almost stuck on her helm’s noseward, and which almost broke her nose. Yet she offwhirled.
Her step brought her almost arear me, where underneath I could neither see nor wit her stroke, and could but fall away while my billhaft hopelessly warded my head. Her swordblade so quaked my helm that I saw glowmotes and jarred my antennae with a nasty daze.
While the crowd cheered and the marshals waved the hit, I stayed aknee and almost wretched. The marshals witted my illness even after I stubbornly stood. Remaue and Kaure dashed forth to see me and outwilled to doff my helm, though there was no blood. After Remaue read my eyes, I shook my head and walked while the crowd mildly cheered goodwill. With a deep breath, I redonned my helm, took the swordbill, and beckoned readiness, whereat the watchers buzzed my welfare.
I beread Demante reckoning how much the headblow had rattled me. Playing into her guess, I foreshowed a yieldsome mood. Even after the fan and standing award, I let her lead the fight, so bethinking she could strike at whim. Yet I minded all I had learned watching her fight, all shifts, all timeliness, and so bewared to forestall her.
When her thrust flew, I ducked my shoulder to shun, even while I thrust back one-handed, which swiftness shook her. Unlike last time, however, instead of backstepping to rewhelm my weapon, I strode inward, caught the dropping haft with my free hand, and kept inward. I overswung my weapon’s peen and grazed her crest spokes, which, even when it smote not, skewed her head. She backstepped trying to raise her weapon, only that I already stood within her reach and would not let her room. She shunned my backstroke only by tangling our blades and shucking mine overhead, whereat I swung full-ring while she upchoked. Then I no longer minded the strokes but swung and offswerved by sheer inborn wodeness while the fight dimmed, and I lost myself until I no longer recked her strokes from mine, nor her from me.
When next I bewared, thunder had grown again from the crowd. If the marshals said anything I heard too deafly. They had daze-smitten me and Demante both to halt the fight. Their hands drew us shed. Unsteadily we lowered weapons, stared at each other, and shared the same thought: ~Ste inyade?~ - who had won?
Under the crowdstorm’s lull, the marshals left us to overread with the game herald. Remaue, Kaure, and Master Evauess gathered near, as did Demante’s helpmate. I could almost bedream Oshis and Less leaping the forerail to cleave us within the yard. Awhim, I reached Demante’s hand and held it. Then the herald came behind us under the watchers’ hush. Fifty thousand souls looked down, deeming, waiting, forelooking the herald’s doom, which we did not yet know. Against my ereward soothness, I held breath.
The herald lifted my hand. Under the deafening, thought-dazing cheer, I swooned.
I woke weeping on my knees, and beside me likewise Demante. She overleaned and hugged me. Unsteadily we stood together while the crowd kept cheer. I headed to her, hugged again, and outthought: ~Se ollode~ - “You are the best.”
Remaue and Kaure crushed me between. They took my helm and swordbill while Master Evauess clapped my backdish. Then I saw Oshis, Less, Hanos, and Meiss clambering apelike, as foreseen over the yardwall. They lowered the children to the ground and helped our flag’s wives down. I watched my son and the children sprint over the yard. I watched him fall, rise, fall again, laughingly lose his mossnapkin, and rise again. At last he reached my arms, where I upbore and held him against my breastdish while Tesine, Lenis, Lanaryel, Yaraess, Vesh, and Donas clustered at my thighs. Then our housemates clove, laughing, weeping even so much as I. They kissed my byrnie.
Our Korasha lifted me ashoulder, even as I did Aeosel, and bore me before the Matronhood’s deck. Among the matrons I beheld Her Highness Lady Ivassil, who bade Lady Sheneal our ambassador cleave. A soulseer hovered them down to the yard, where they stood under the whole Gameyard’s gaze and before us, who knelt.
~A Ruzhyahaze,~ greeted Lady Ivassil: “Worry-maker.” She then overlooked the small throng with me until she spotted Master Evauess and asked his hand in this business. He answered he had ever wished to win a Damaya gametrial, which earned our laughter. She named it reckful and spoke that more asks shall doubtlessly come forth. Then she headed to Her Highness Lady Sheneal and asked her happiness with this deed. Our ambassador answered she was well merry on our city’s behalf, and that folk should elseguess ere they name Son a doddering grandmother sitting in the Upper Strath. Lady Ivassil laughingly yaysaid.
Then Her Highness drew forth a mere milkblossom wreath. ~Zhili-stimi eayeli,~ - “Lest there be any doubt,” she spoke, and laid it on my brow. The crowd’s roar deafened anew. Then Kaure and Oshis again bore me ashoulder to the listroom, where after many hugs and kisses they stripped my byrnie and sweat-soaked undershirt and got me into a bath.
Shortly laterward, I doffed the winner’s wreath and sought through the listroom’s wallboughs with Aeosel ahip, until at last I found Demante, who likewise bathed, and with her helpmate, her children, and a Korasha I guessed her fathermate. They halted, whereat I beseeched leave. The two grownups withdrew, although the children stayed in their mother’s arms. I knelt beside the bath and bowed. ~O’sholi keandaf yarao’aeadeni lindaf,~ I said: “I truly meant what I said earlier,” and yielded her the wreath.
Demante withstood the crownwreath. ~Miaveadis,~ - “You earned it,” she answered, ~Oe moare ollone qoanya-nazave,~ - “And I get to become a better warrior.”
I laid aside the wreath, overleaned the bath, and kissed her antennae. Then I spoke that, if she would not take it as gift, she must give me a boon: to come as my guest to the matron’s mirthtide on Newyear’s Eve. She blinkingly asked why she, as a mean firstspear, should mingle with the city’s highest ladyhood. I answered that not only would it gladden me to honor her, but also that, if she ever forethought the hap to fight the city’s best, I would make it so happen. Warily her antennae quivered. She asked my plan, which I answered not. Withholdingly she yaysaid. I thanked her, kissed both her children, and left.
When we came back to the household, we found Her Highness Lady Sheneal had followed. She saw me with the crownwreath in hand and frowned with antennae humming, and asked what wickedness I worked. ~Domi loshya-ruaeli,~ - “Nothing that will shame you,” I glibbed. Then, since I found her hereness happy, I beseeched her to bename Demante Firstspear as guest for Newyear’s Eve. When Her Highness asked why, I merely answered I would honor a worthy foe.
A last thing I did ere I slept: I bade a housegroom bear a short leafwrit to the farseers’ hall and bode it to Son, benamed to Krastaes. It bewrote merely this:

~A areasa-mas shoantas teaelas, risara ollodara kanvaeara ristaf. Inyae di keami.~
“To our beloved champion and shieldbrother, I have fought my life’s best fight. The win recks not.”

…If my word proves riddlesome, I hope he will forgive me.

Recap: Lady Vaeol readied for the Motorae Games while Heavenwatch came under uncertain omens.

Lashunta Words & Phrases:

• O’sheazya-shyae (honor imp): tell (me)
• O: subordinate clause-marker
• Dohisaea (imp acc): offthank; insult
• Roef (1st-tran cond): I/we may/will know
• Rualassya (spir acc partic): [that was] given
• O’ruhimassi (inf): to call
• Iheshi-mya (spir acc incl): this dare
• Eiesi (imp): think
• Relesya (spir acc): worship; honor
• Dei (adv): interrogative particle
• Lya (spir acc): it; that; 3rd-person pronoun
• Niris (2nd-trans): you hear
• Kaolya (spir acc): goodwill; favor
• Miaveadis (2nd-trans perf): you [have] earned
• O’roe (adv): knowingly; [they] know
• Rise (3rd-fem): she/they know
• Shaverazere-Halaeazere (fem acc): Thiefqueen-Slayer
• O’tollae (adv): long; a long time; oldly
• Hanimya (spir acc): today; this day
• Aeiestaf (1st-trans perf): I/we [have] forethought
• Thanya-shyalze (2nd-fem honor): you come
• O’risassi (inf): to fight
• Li (adv): or
• Keiahassi (partic): dancing; to dance
• Yi (adv): like; as; relative adverb
• Komadise (2nd-fem perf): you have done/accomplished
• Roes (2nd-trans): you know
• Yereo’soari-mi (fem acc): her whom now next
• Risis (2nd-trans): you fight
• Nila (comm): much; many
• Qoanda (3rd-comm): has grown/become
• Dumanta (comm): eyesome; obvious; apparent
• Sheilaf (1st-trans): I/we wonder/contemplate
• O’dei (adv): whether; if
• Zhefuali-stimya (spir acc): any trick(s)
• Meavis (2nd-trans): you own
• Honyaeassya (spir acc partic): [that are] secret/left
• Imya (spir acc): one
• Shilya (spir acc): mere; merely
• Uthara (comm acc): children
• Relesya-shyalis (2nd-trans honor): you honor/worship
• Shyae (honor imp): give; bestow
• Relesya (spir acc): worship; honor
• Saolya (possess spir acc): blade's; of [your] balde
• Ste (fem): who; interrogative feminine pronoun
• Inyade (fem perf): she [has] won
• Se (fem): you; 2nd-person feminine pronoun
• Ollode (fem): best
• A Ruzhyahaze (voc fem): Worry-maker
• Zhili-stimi (spir): any doubt
• Eayeli (3rd-spir depend): lest; if/when there would be
• O’sholi (adv): truly
• Keandaf (1st-trans perf): I/we meant
• Yarao’aeadeni (comm acc): what earlier
• Lindaf (1st-trans perf): I/we said
• Miaveadis (2nd-trans perf): you have earned
• Oe (adv): and; clause conjunction
• Moare (fem): warrior
• Ollone (fem): better
• Qoanya-nazave (1st-fem recip): I/we get to become
• Domi (spir): nothing; none; naught
• Loshya-ruali (3rd-spir humbl): shames [you]
• A areasa-mas (voc masc incl-dem): our hero/champion
• Shoantas (masc): dear; beloved
• Teaelas (masc): shield-brother
• Risara (comm acc): fight; combat
• Ollodara (comm acc): best
• Kanvaeara (possess comm acc): of [my] lifetime
• Ristaf (1st-trans perf): I/we [have] fought
• Inyae (spir): winning; victory
• Di keami (3rd-spir): does not reck/mean/matter