The Old Words

Only 732 words. I was pretty distracted, but I was productive in a few other areas.

A tasty excerpt from today:

"I know you all still have so many questions, but there's not enough time to go into details. Maybe after this war is won, we can linger in all the lore, but we've got to keep forging on."
But Michael spoke up, "What makes the words work? What gives them these strange powers?"
Skoar's face showed that he was torn between answering and moving on. He relented. With a deep breath and heavy sigh, he began, "The old words are just that: old. As far as the tales go, our ancestors spoke to the world, to the trees, to the rocks, to the earth. In an old language, they spoke with nature, and nature listened. When we use the words now, the world around us remembers and listens. Those are the rumors anyway, but, as far as I can tell, the rumors ring true. So, with the words, an arrow is no longer just an arrow but a friend or an enemy. Fire is no longer just a word but an action, even a command. Words are no longer even just words but life or death."

It's a bit one-with-nature-esque, but I couldn't leave it without some kind of magic. Also, now, I'm not sure how I'm going to tie in Xormite, that funny metal that seems to resonate with the old words. Perhaps that will be it: they will resonate such that old words are louder, stronger. Who knows. It's a haphazard process.

Blah. I have to renew my car insurance and car registration. I think those are the only two cumbersome tasks I have today. Money money money, such a funny substance.