Dictionary of my Heart

Ketet: a swear

Tejak: sing

Tuyyan: sorry

Kuom: loud

Ja: signifier to make something more

Vettuj: red

Araverej: forever-rain, or rain/storm that seems never to end

Yamnay: flyer, friend, companion 

Kheekjak: sibling

Yamkeek: False sibling

Erttusha: and insult for a mean person, ass-mouth

Ummak: art, collage or combining

Korkemkers: mind-splat, meditative diary

Kesuvkortyaa: storm spirit, beings of storm

Avkretymet: creatures, dim-er in keyaa

Metermaery: disappear

Koryerm: core hurt, core pain.

August didn’t get another word for a long time. So long, he had a sinking feeling Ameokk wouldn’t speak stormspeak ever again.

Then, one day, they were walking by the shore.

Above them, the sky hung in a brilliant blue.

The air was humid and salty, almost like a solid presence as it blew through his fur. The sound of waves crashing against the black sands mixed with Ameokk’s rambling, or rather, complaining.

There seemed to be infinite things to complain about when it came to the dumb royal creatures Mother had them deal with. Negotiations over trade, breakfast parties that were more gloating competitions, mothi messages that read kind on the surface but held secret meanings which needed to be decoded and interpreted.

“So then I said,” Ameokk gestured dramatically, “that there was truly, absolutely no way that we cou –  is that Kemerkykhov.”

Huh?

Just as August realized, with a tiny spark of excitement, that was stormspeak, Ameokk took into the air and flew ahead. They stopped a few meters ahead at a tall boulder nestled between two sunleaf trees.

The boulder reached high into the sky, several times August’s own height, and cast a cool shadow below. Ameokk hovered over a hollow into its side near the top of the structure.

August broke into a short jog to meet up with them, and saw that there was some kind of plant trailing down from the hollow. Its leaves were needle shaped and pale green, almost a silvery color that nearly blended in with the rock itself. The stems looked strangely thick and veiny and were a dark color that he first thought was just black, but seemed to actually be a deep blue.

Ameokk was already talking as August caught up. “I can’t believe this is here, I’ve only seen kemerkykhov in The North,” a laugh bubbled out of them, “how in the hells did it get here?”

Though he could already hear the smile in their voice, it was another thing seeing it. Bright in the daylight.

As he craned his neck up towards them, he found himself smiling as well. “The plant? Kemer –  what did you call it again?”

“Kemerkykhov,” they repeated, that smile not abating.

August repeated it and they clicked in affirmation. The ‘kyk’ part of it, pronounced like keek, was emphasized, it felt fun to say.

“It’s a plant used in a lot of Kesuvkortyaa dishes, like an herb. But also just to munch on.” They tore off a small sprig and flew down to him. Before handing it to him, they picked off the needly leaves and split the stem in half. “Here, try it.”

He grabbed it with his little paw and sniffed at it before taking a bite.

The skin of the stem was oddly smooth, almost rubbery, and it took a fair amount of pressure before it popped under his teeth. As he chewed, a thick, syrupy juice gradually seeped onto his tongue. It had a citrussy, woody flavor, but with a faint sweetness and –

August ears raised, surprised.

Ameokk grinned.

“It’s…?” He held a paw over his mouth as he still chewed, brows furrowing. “Sizzling? But not in a spicy way?” It was like little things were popping against his tongue. It wasn’t exactly unpleasant, and it still tasted good, but it was just. Strange.

August had a sudden, brief worry that he was maybe having an allergic reaction, but realized from the gleam in Ameokk’s eyes that this was probably a normal feature of the plant.

“Yes! That’s the kykykanot, the sizzling popping part of it!  Kemerkykhov are put in lots of drinks to make them more fun. Also deserts, I’m pretty sure.” Then their expression fell just a tad. “Though I… I don’t think I know how to make anything but tea with it.”

Quickly, August finished chewing and swallowed. “Maybe there would be something about it, or stor – er, Kesuvkortyaa dishes in general, in this book I saw at Garvey’s? It had some stuff with Kesuvkortyaa traditions and foods, I’m pretty sure.”

“What? Garvey has a book like that?” They scrunched their nose. “He never told me he had that...”

August didn’t want to say what he thought. Garvey and him both likely assumed it would upset Ameokk more than anything else.

“Well, um, it may not be very accurate? Maybe that’s why? I don’t remember, and it’s not like either of us would be able to tell.”

Ameokk raised an eyebrow, “Yes, all the more reason to show me it, I would think. No matter, we can bother him about it later, I suppose.”

They flew back up to the plant and reached out to pick it, then halted, slowly withdrawing their claws.

“What is it?” August asked.

“This could be the only Kemerkykhov growing here, and if –  I don’t want to kill it if it is. I know we can grow more but. I don’t remember exactly how. I never. That wasn’t something I’d been taught yet, I don’t know what it needs to live, specific soil or how much water or…”

The way their hands hovered over the tiny plant, almost cradling a few of its branches between their taloned fingers, struck August as so delicate.

“We have a royal botanist, don’t we? Maybe you could ask them?”

“I highly doubt any Valencia botanist has ever seen Kemerkykhov.”

“Sure, but. If they study plants they may still be able to give a guess at what it needs? Maybe?”

They looked to the side for a moment, contemplating. “Perhaps.”

And so they reached out to one of the botanists of Valencia, August learned later. Her name was Gerga. They had to ask around for who would be the best to go to, not wanting anything about Kemerkykhov getting back to their Mother in some way.

Though Ameokk was right in that Gerga had never seen the plant before, she was able to infer its needs based on its similarities to other plants and where it was growing in Daharus.

Thankfully, Gerga was also much more loyal to science than she was September, so when Amek communicated that September may destroy the plant if she knew its origins and connection to storm spirits, Gerga vowed to keep quiet on it. It also helped that Amek assured her a gift in the future for her silence.

Ameokk did remember it was a type of plant that could have its branches cut and more plants be grown from those branches, so they cut a few from the original, but kept enough for the plant to continue living. Gerga said she would make it her personal project to figure out how to properly propagate it.

(And eventually, they would have a stock of Kemerkykhov available at the Valencia gardens. At some point, the cooks found out, and though none knew of the plants origin in kesuvkortyaa cuisine, awed by its kykykanot properties, they began to incorporate it into dishes as well.)

(Additionally, Gerga helped Amek to establish a wild stock of Kemerkykhov on the coast, just in case anything were to happen to Valencia’s.)

Later, Ameokk made him tea with Kemerykhov, and they bothered Garvey to give him some too.

They prepared the tea together.

August broke a small branch, or, attempted to. It required much more twisting and strength than he had anticipated. Ameokk snickered at him, and ended up helping him with the last one.

Then they both peeled off the plant’s dark blue skin with knives. The flesh underneath was lavender, and the process left his fingers sticky with the plant’s thick juices. Just as he was about to toss the peelings out, Ameokk stopped him, saying they would use those later.

After August placed the peeled branches into three square ceramic cups, small enough to be held in one hand, Ameokk poured boiling water from the kettle.

As the tea steeped, the water bloomed into a purply, blue color.

Ameokk’s eyes lit up as they watched the transformation. Then their tail perked up, and they turned to rummage through the cupboards of the kitchen. Before he could ask what they were looking for, they returned with a lighter and placed the peelings on a plate.

“I think it would likely be better to slow cook these but… this should work too. Probably.”

“Probably –  wait probably –  what do you mean probably – !”

Using the lighter, they set fire to the peelings. After a few seconds, they thinned and curled, the edges darkening, then Ameokk blew them back out.

After sprinkling them with a bit of sugar and honey, they took a spoonful. Apparently, it was good, judging by their trill of delight, and August trilled similarly after Ameokk gestured for him to try some.

With the tea made and garnished with the peelings, they made their way to Garvey’s, Ameokk carrying the three cups on a wicker tray.

The fade’s office (which Ameokk liked to call his hovel… outside of earshot, of course) was tucked deep into the library, past several twisting corridors and beyond one door hidden behind a painting.

August knocked since Ameokk’s hands were occupied. “Garvey…? Are you busy, we –  me and Ameokk have something for you, if you could spare a moment.”

They waited for any noise beyond the door. It was of an almost gray-colored, knotted wood, unpolished and with raised knobs sporting a few leaves here and there.

After enough time to be questionable passed, August turned to Ameokk, who looked at him with a raised brow.

August said, “Do you want to – “

They groaned, “Yeah, hold on –  gods does he always have to be so damned hard to track down. It’s – “ They seemed to remember they were holding the tray and groaned again, eliciting a chuckle from August with their dramatics. “Can you? I would have to put this down.”

August pulled the collar of their turtleneck down to find their necklace, and more importantly, the pendant. They never wore it out, complaining that it looked stupid, and, to be fair, it did a bit. It was a gaudy orange, a mostly flat oval with two triangular points that resembled Garvey’s horns. It was also unsettlingly… veined, like skin.

On the back was a flat, greasy stone of a pale blue which August tapped three times with his thumb then rubbed in a swirl. When it glowed faintly, he spoke, “Garvey, could you come please. We have something for you, though it’s not urgent.”

Ameokk leaned over. “It is urgent. I’m dying. August will also be sad if you don’t come, very sad, crying – “

He slapped Ameokk’s arm, frowning. “I will not I – “

A harsh POP noise cut him off and made him jump –  no matter how many times he heard it, it always made him jump.

A moment later, Garvey’s head (and unimpressed gaze) materialized from the wall. The rest of him pooled out, arms crossed, as though the bookshelves were liquid rather than solid.

“What do both of you want.” His eyes found the tea, and by the way he immediately drifted closer, taloned hands moving to settle behind his back, August could tell he was intrigued even as he said, dryly, “Are you trying to bribe me for something?”

“We wanted to share this with you,” he said. “We made it together, it’s, um.“ he cut himself off and glanced at Ameokk. They hadn’t established whether Ameokk wanted Garvey to know the origins of the tea.

“It’s traditional stormspirit tea. We found a plant here that I had thought only grows up north, and…” Ameokk’s voice softened, staring at the tea. “I still remember how to make this.”

Garvey was quiet for a moment, and August urged him mentally to understand the weight of what Ameokk was offering and not make light of it. It was not merely tea.

“Intriguing. That is quite interesting to find the plant here, then. You must tell me more later.” Garvey turned to open the door of his office, beckoning them in. “Find a place to sit so we can drink.”

Finding a place to sit truly was an issue, moreso than Garvey’s casual tone implied.

As far as the eye could see, the floor was plastered with papers, books, scrolls. For a creature like Garvey, who floated more than walked, he supposed it wasn’t a real concern. But it was still… just the sight of it made August grimace.

“How do you live like this, Garvey?” Ameokk said what he would not out loud.

Garvey said nothing, though did use his magic to float and move several stacks of books, revealing a chair and a couch. “Give me your tea, child.” He also cleared a pathway (free of papers) for him and Ameokk to actually walk to the couch, which they did, sitting down, and placing the tray on the stool.

The square cup was dwarfed by Garvey’s fuzzy hands, and August noticed Ameokk’s tail suddenly still as the fade brought the cup to his face. He kept one eye on Ameokk as he watched Garvey’s reaction.

A low rumble left Garvey, which he recognized as a pleased noise. “It is sweet, with a bit of a woody aftertaste and – “  his fur raised and his black-dot eyes bugged out several sizes larger in an expression he didn’t think he’d ever seen on him. “Why is it exploding?”

A laugh burst from Ameokk, and he delighted in that it was bright and loud and entirely unrestrained. August couldn’t help but laugh as well.

So they explained, and Garvey gave them his attention.

And August sipped his tea, the mug radiating warmth into his palms. That warmth traveled through him as he sipped the tea, spreading down his throat and into his stomach until he felt warm from head to toe.