Overture to Moonthread

Book 1 of NA'LA SAGA

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Mother Death
Sat down with us,
And this is what she said :

“I’ll Tell the tale, as it’s been told to me…
Just listen close…
And picture
Purple Trees…”

“Dur’guh o’gwaj gu’na…
Ur’ddj’ae’rj… NA’LA SAGA…”

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NA’LA SAGA

Trilogy One

Book 1 : Moonthread

Na’la is 11.

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OVERTURE to MOONTHREAD

Once upon a Moonful Night…
There was a girl,
Who was an Orc.

She had gold slitted eyes, and dark green skin.
Her black hair, when light tried to touch it,
Drank it in.

And when she turned eleven, she…
Began… to have… True Dreams.
Bad Dreams.

Day-mares.

…hhhh…
…hhhhhhhhh…
…hhhhHHHHHhhhhhhh…

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Sa’guh Ot

Ur’ddj’ae’rj

MUL’THREN

Odd aeg’rap ok Gath Mur’gul…
Aeg’muk’ra ok uu’uh nj’nj,
(U’aj’gha o’gan’a)
Ba uu’uh zhuh ok Urg.

Aeg’ja’rj zhal uu’uh slid’ddj… tsit’sh,
Nguh aeg’ja’rj zhal uu’uh se’ga’nj… grj,
Nguh aeg’ja’rj zhal uu’uh lag’leth… nul’nul.
Vel aeg’drang zhal uu’uh lag’leth
Gul’jl zal’vuu,
Aeg’gjl uu’uh U’GRU dzhj gi’dde.

Nguh…

Vel aeg’dur o uu’uh nj’nj
U’aj’gha o’gan’a,
Aeg’ju’mjr uu’uh zhuh suh RA’JU.
Ra’ju…

…hhhh…
…hhhhhhhhh…
…hhhhHHHHHhhhhhhh…

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Hhhh, hisses the wind.
And now, the darkness dissapates.
It’s day, it seems.
(Thump-THUMP), she dreams. Hhhh…
…hhhhhhalf dreaming, half awake, she sees a…

Boy.
Her age.
Her age, to the moment.

He’s racing in between tall, barren birches, and his—
(NO!) she thinks.
(…I don’t see him.
I am him.
I’m seeing through his eyes, like always.)

Feet pound. (Thump-THUMP)
Trees flitting. (Thump-THUMP)
His heart is racing in her ears.
Breathless.
He’s hungry.

Hhhhis eyes are colorblind, and hers…
Are not. Tonight, he hunts.
Tonight,
He’s playing
Hunter.

(Thump-thump)

(Thump-thump)

His skinny hand holds onto a pale dagger,
A dagger all of bone. He grips it,
So tightly that it hurts. But still…
It’s better than letting it slip…
Out of his sweaty, slick grip. The thing,
and what’s within the bone
Both agree on…
Something.

He doesn’t know what. (and neither does Na’la.)
The colorless bushes scrape at him, but still, he runs.
He sprints. Shin splints. Trees…
Flit on by, those grayscale trees, until…
The hush of fresh water!

A creek! Meek rushing. A blush of hope.
He stops and—!
SHHHHH, hisses the dagger.
He obeys.
…Hhhh…
(…listen for it…)
Hhhh?
Hhhh…
The moon hums, mmm?
Shhhh!
…hhhh…?

Shhhhuka-shuka Shoo!

In the brush! His eyes… pursue it!
NNNNG!
He—! Goes after! Chases! Fast feet!
Something furry. (Thump-THUMP) Where…
…is it? (Thump-THUMP!) Too…
Too fast! There it—! (THUMP!)
There it goes! But— (Thump-THUMP)
Wait, it’s gone! “I just had it! I—!” (THUMP)
“I just had it! It’s—” (THUMP)
Now it’s—!

The sound of broken twigs,
Then grasping silence. Dry day’s light.

…Gone.

Idiot.

(No you’re not), she thinks.
Slow. Too slow. Clumsy.
Hunger’s clawing. Stomach turns.
The dagger scolds him. Hhhh!
The grayscale grass is poking up
Through every hole in the poor boy’s boots.
The grass is wet, but not alive, so it’s a greasy wet.
The wasted grass is sharp as nettles.
Hhhh! the angry dagger whines.

The boy keeps going,
Teeth gritting,
Feet pounding, running,
Running fast. Running…
A little too fast, through flitting trees,
On greasy grass, then—

SLIP!

He falls. A hasty step. Too careless.
Slow…
Motion…
Fall. Here comes
The ground, then she feels the breath get
(HHH)
Knocked out of him as he falls,
Onto big, braided roots. Only then…
Does she feel his pain…
Bloom.

Hhhhe wants to scream. But he can’t yet.
and even if he could, who would hear?
(I would), she dreams.
He scoffs, then writhes, and rolls onto his back.
He wants to give up. The dagger won’t like it, but…
He lets himself anyway. Let it punish me.
He braces, but…
But it doesn’t.

To his surprise, it goes quiet in his hand.
For just a moment, the dagger
Lets him
Lay there.

The boy squirms in irritation,
At the dreaming voices in his head.
He looks up and sees (So near) a mountain.
A mountain the dreamer knows, but he
Does not. (Hey wait!) dreams Na’la.

(Is that…? Mount Wraithwood?
I know that place! How did you get all the way over—?)

“Shut UP!” he screams out loud.

She does.

Even the wind joins in terse silence.
“…I’m sorry,” he says meekly.
She wonders if he means it.
Neither of them notice
The strange thing at first.
But the dagger does.
and it hisses.

Hhhh! snaps the demon, like a viper.

Na’la’s spirit flinches, and backs away.
As his pain begins to flower, he squeezes
The bone dagger. But the dagger can’t…
Hhhh? Haaahehehehehhhh…
They both know :
The dagger can’t heal ’til it drinks.
It glows. It glows. The bone dagger glows,
As red as quenched revenge.
Hhhhis mind goes to…
That furry thing that got away.

Everyone knows
What happens
Next.

(No), thinks Na’la.
But the boy says, “Fine.”
He says it out loud. She feels his eyes close,
As (please) he lets Hhhh… the Demon (don’t.) in.

He lets the Demon… in.

hhh

hhhh

hhhhh

HHHH

He moves with new speed. He’s on his feet. The dagger will be drinking tonight. She blots it out, but thhhHHHE SUN! The Sun is out. Its brazen light turns every blade of greasy grass into a knife. He finds the thing. No shadows. He finds the thing, and grabs it. (Where’s the moon?) (No shadows.) The world leans red. He gets lightheaded, and so does the dreamer. Each shadow flinches, recoiling away from red day’s touch.

Within a dozen hateful, hobbled breaths, he

(No) he pins some furry thing

(Don’t) Raises up the cackling dagger,

and all of everything is cackling!

and red! as the dagger begins to

Flay the fl—

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Na’la’s eyes snapped open.

Both of them.

She stared up at the ceiling.

It was mostly dark in the den, though day’s fingers were prying at the edges of the thick curtains.

Three curtains hung up. They were like masks the room wore, to keep out the day’s light. A triptych of black fabric, as heavy as Na’la’s eyes felt.

Each curtain bore the symbol of two moons : one full, and one empty. Half dreaming, half awake. It was her family’s symbol, the symbol of the House of Dag’mur.

Surrounded by moons, Na’la thought.

They yawned wide, like 6 thirsty cauldrons.

(Thump-THUMP)

The sigil of her Mama, and her Gran…

and her Gran… and so on, back

To the very first Daughters of U’gru.

That’s what her Gran said, at least.

(Thump-THUMP) It’s…

Just a dream, she thought, and tongued her tusk.

Na’la didn’t know how to still her own heart.

They’d sewn the curtains by hand, for whatever reason.

Na’la wondered why they still did things by hand. Both her Mama and Gran could do magic.

Na’la half remembered, half made up a memory, of when she’d watched them stitch those sigils. The cottage had been smaller back then. The orchard had been, too.

The empty moons were sewn from thread of solid black.

Although it was the darkest black they had, even that was not as black as Na’la’s hair was. Na’la’s hair drank in all the light that tried to touch it.

As for the full moons, those had been sewn out of one of one of the best things in Orc’shire…

Moonthread.

Moonthread was grey in the day, but at night, turned all colors. It was a simple delight, a mundane kind of magic.

Nothing deep, just fun. Still…

It was one of the few things

That could quell Na’la’s pulse.

(Thump-THUMP…)

(Thump… Thump… Thump…)

Sometimes she stared at those curtains all day, studying the colors as they changed instead of sleeping.

Sometimes, moonthread changed quickly, like hummingbird wings.

But tonight, all the colours went slowly, like soil that breaks to give way to a little spring sprout.

(Thump… Thump…)

Na’la’s hair fanned out all around her, like tendrils of a dark halo.

(Thump…)

Mmmm… the curtains seemed to hum.

Na’la’s eyes felt sudden-blooming heaviness.

Little rays of day’s light tried to pry their way in. But they couldn’t get through, to the girl in the den.

She heard the wind hiss at the curtains…

(Hhhh…?)

Mm mm mm, the curtain-moons smiled.

Na’la let her eyes…

Just a dream.

…relax, and…

Just a…

…and hoped she wouldn’t…

…dream…

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Appendix A
GUIDE to PRONOUNCING
WORDS in ORCISH

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There are a LOT of weird-looking words in this trilogy.

Or’lj’thaj’uh.
Ddej’gra.
Va’akh’uhn.

Even though this may look ridiculous, or over the top, the whole language pivots on one, just one, critical concept…

First off, every name strictly phonetic. That just means… When you see “th” in an Orcish word, it is always the first consonant in “thorn.” In contrast, whenever you see “dd” in an Orcish word, that sound is always gonna be the first sound in “that.”

In this way, it is a system made for ACTORS, not necessarily for READERS.

When you say a name out loud, that’s how it sounds when Na’la says it, too.

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VOWELS

Written Spoken

i = vowel in “this”
j = “ee” in peel / “y” sound, as in fjord
a = vowel in “all”
ae = vowel in “that”

uh = vowel in “cup”
uu = vowel in “put”

o = vowel in “oak”
u = vowel in blue
e = vowel in “set”

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CONSONANTS

Written Spoken

th = tearing paper sound, as in “think”
dd = buzzing sound, as it “that”
g = always “hard g,” like in drag
zh = “soft g” sound in mirage
gh = like a “g,” but make it wet

k = as in “carnal” or “caramel”
kh = “k” sound, but make it wet
ng = last sound in “saving,” but it can sometimes start a word

And finally…

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ABOUT APOSTROPHES

Apostrophes separate syllables in The Orcish Language. The word “undeserving” would be spelled out like this, if it were an Orcish word : uhn’di’zuhr’ving.

If there are two vowels in between apostrophes, that means you want to smash them together into one gliding sound. This happens a lot with the sound “eye,” which is spelled out as “aj” in Orcish.

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