Learning to Learn
Each of the races has its separate gifts. No one could think like the Elves. No art compared to that of the Dwarves. Humans were known, among other races, as insanely diligent workers. One could distract a Dwarf or a Visser with a good story, and an Elf intent on some particular study could find himself hours later studying some other interesting phenomenon. Not Humans.
Set to a task, clear on their instructions, they worked from dawn to dusk. Seth and the other teachers formed them into groups, and they began working, without further comment or complaint.
Ishvi found himself in a group with three other Humans, two young Lords from up north and a young Lord whom he knew well from his own area and a Horseman teacher. The Horseman had them sit on the floor, and scattered various objects on the floor in front of them. Then the teacher, speaking only Kelii, pointing at one object after another, made a sound in his babbling language. Then he looked at Ishvi and made a sound, another babble. In the babble, however, Ishvi thought that he heard some of the sounds he had heard earlier, the ones the Horseman had made when he pointed at the knife. So Ishvi pointed at the knife and said (in Human) “A knife?”
The Horseman looked at him and barked out a command, which Ishvi interpreted as, ‘No speaking Human!’ And then he reached out and, to Ishvi’s extreme discomfort, took Ishvi’s hand, and using Ishvi’s hand, grabbed the knife and handed it to himself.
The Horseman then replaced the knife, looked at the next lad and repeated the phrase. This lad, no fool, handed him the knife. Then the Horseman turned to the next lad and pronounced an almost identical phrase.
This lad, slightly less intelligent or perhaps slightly more tired, began to reach for the knife. The Horseman, with a shake of his head, and a negative sounding word, took his hand and guided it to a nearby rope. Thus passed the rest of the afternoon; more and more objects were brought in, more and more names were learnt. Learning passed from objects to actions, from objects and actions to kinds of objects and qualities of actions.
Objects that started out being handed to were now placed on, under, and over.
Then they were thrown, or slid.
(The above two images courtesy of Playground. Neither one comes close to the story, but what can you do?”)
Ishvi’s teacher took frequent breaks, and his group was divided among the others when this happened, only to be reformed when the Horseman returned. Most of the other teachers, as well, would often disappear for a while.
But the Hostages and other ‘Young Lords’ stayed in the room.
No formal meals were held. Instead, the food and eating was treated as yet another part of language learning. Eating, drinking, biting, chewing, each separate food… the list of words seemed endless.
Ishvi proved himself to be the worst learner in the entire room. His decision to be obedient warred with his antipathy to the entire project. All his life he, and everyone he knew, had despised Horsemen. Human’s lives were wrapped up in and focused on the land. The elite among the Humans owned land, but everyone worked the land. For them, someone who merely spent their days riding, producing nothing, was worse than useless, a positive parasite. So working with them was… repugnant.
The last event of the evening seemed to be ‘story time’. Each of the teachers sat next to the fire and talked. Ishvi understood only occasional words from most of the speakers, and nothing at all from Seth.
After the teachers left, he found, to his chagrin, that his fellow Young Lords considered the admonition to speak only Kelii as applying even after the ‘session’ was over. Thus he was left to stew silently, and to drop restlessly off to sleep.
The next few days were worse. He ‘did’ his lessons, and ‘learned’ the vocabulary, but many of the others seemed to begin to revel in them, advancing far faster than he would have believed possible. Beginning the second evening, some were able to hold small conversations. They even seemed to be following the stories! The stories themselves were odd. The Horsemen’s stories were obvious enough; stories of hunts, he gradually came to understand. But what were Seth and the Ellyll talking about? They seemed to be telling some story, but with long explanations. And from time to time one of the others would interrupt with a question. But Ishvi understood none of it! Then came the fifth night; in some ways it was the worst of his entire life. Almost everyone else was shooting far past him in language learning. A special group had been formed for the slowest and he was the worst of that group.
He didn’t think he was learning slowly. He could swear that he knew every single word that he had been taught. But the others seemed to have learned much, much more, somehow. So much more that, when they were half way through story time and Seth was right in the middle of his standard speech, one of the Hostages, Hosea, one who had been looking more and more interested, broke in with a question.
Ishvi didn’t understand the question or the answer. What he did understand, looking around the room and seeing the looks on other faces, was that he was rapidly being left behind. The feeling increased as the discussion continued, but came to an abrupt climax when, an hour or so later, Seth turned to the Elflad, whose name was Tristan, said something to him, and the lad left the room.
He came back, some minutes later, with a lass! A Human girl, dressed as a Horsegirl. The lads all stood, jumped really, to their feet. Ishvi didn’t recognize her; she must be from the north. She looked embarrassed, very uncomfortable in her Horsegirl attire, standing in front of all these Human lads.
She also looked nervous, and excited.
Immediately after her entrance the rest of the lasses came filing through the door. They also seemed nervous and uncomfortable… and excited. They were led by Hadassah and stood together against one wall; followed closely by the eyes of all of the lads. Along with them came an Elflass… or Ellyllaa, and several Horsewives. The Horsewives looked very uncomfortable, but the Ellyllaa was grinning, as much as Elves ever grinned.
Once all the lasses were in, Seth led Hosea, the hostage who had asked the question, one of the southern Hostages and a good friend of Ishvi’s, to the front of the room, where the first lass was standing. He took her hand, and put it in Hosea’s. Then, just as Ishvi figured out what was going on, Seth, flanked by the other teachers, began a formulaic speech.
Ishvi did not understand a word of the speech but nonetheless he knew exactly what Seth was saying: “In the beginning He Who Is created men and women. He created the first man, and made for him the first woman. Even so now he creates men and women; and gives them to their fathers.”
“Hosea benGideon, standing in the place of your Father, I have today decided…” Ishvi had seen this exact ceremony, if in very different circumstances, many times before, and so had many others. They knew, despite their lack of language, exactly what was happening.
Soon, for there was no sermon, no emotionally-filled charges from fathers, no candles to light, the ceremony was over. As expected, the lasses were then led out. Contrary to normal tradition, however, the lads did not leave.
Instead, Seth turned to the new couple and led them out, followed by one of the Horsemen and Tristan.
The other Elf, Wynforr and the others went back to the fire and restarted ‘story time’.
Later that night Ishvi lay in his bed thinking about the events of the evening. He hadn’t completely followed the conversation between the other Young Lords as they readied for bed, but its tenor had been clear: they were fantastically excited.
They were excited for Hosea. There was the normal coarse talk between lads (greatly handicapped by their limited language learning) but also excitement about his advancement in ‘the project’.
And they were very excited by their view of the lasses. Several days without even seeing a lass, and then getting to see lasses in Horsewife attire… lasses that they knew one of them would be marrying soon… they were very excited by their view of the lasses! There was considerable speculation as to which lad would be chosen next, and which lass he would be paired up with.
Several possibilities were suggested, and much blushing and teasing resulted.
But the topic that was burning a hole in Ishvi’s heart was ‘the plan.’ All the other lads (and for all he knew all the lasses) were excited by ‘the plan’, excited by details that he couldn’t understand, and they jabbered on and on using language that was far over his head.
Ishvi continued to lay in bed long after lights out, brooding. He still struggled, almost hourly, with what he was doing. It seemed so silly, so repugnant, and most of all it was in the service of someone he actively disliked.
But this dislike was eroding. Seth was an excellent teacher, more adept than the others at bringing a hard concept to the fore. And he didn’t seem to hold Ishvi’s slowness against him. The closest he came was a little grin that drifted across his face from time to time when Ishvi got impatient during a session.
The silliness of the language learning and his repugnance at all things Horsemen faded also in the face of daily work and competition. When you do something every day, even something silly, it becomes a habit. And when you do it with others, who do it better than you, the silliest repugnance fades into competitiveness; with the desire for success. The sight of the lasses kept going over and over in his head. He certainly had no objections to getting married, and his mind went from lass to lass. He was very upset at having to get married in this way − but he was very excited at the idea of getting married at this time! His mind kept dwelling on Hosea and Esther (he had learned her name from the lads’ talk) − wondering − struggling not to wonder or dwell on − what they were doing. He wanted a Wife. He had wanted one before, but now that he was faced with the immediate prospect he wanted one dreadfully! About midnight his conscious mind accepted what his unconscious mind had been telling him from the beginning. It was time to stop fighting, at least as far as language learning was concerned. It was time to stop fighting against Seth, and start fighting for his wife. He fell asleep, finally, determined to make the next day his best day.
But he didn’t make it to the next day. He awoke later that night, something he never did. He turned over several times, trying to get back to sleep, but… he was hungry! He rolled over and looked. There was food at the table, and even one of the server boys, standing there yawning. Ishvi got up, and wandered over.
//Hungry, Sir?// the server lad asked.
//Yes// Ishvi said, looking around. Why, there was actually hot meat! He sliced off a hunk and some bread. He saw the server lad grinning at him.
//What?// he asked, and the lad looked abashed.
//I’m sorry, Sir// he said, looking down.
//What?// Ishvi said, taking another mouthful, //Why you grinning?//
//Oh, Sir, I see you, night − // He had obviously not learned that much Kelii, and was struggling to express something, something about the night.
Ishvi looked out over the crowd of sleeping boys. What was so funny?
They were just boys, sleeping, no; some alone, some in groups of two or three? He stared for a minute. They sure were dreamy, though. He thought at first that it was the sight of the girls that was motivating their dreams (and that would certainly explain the boys grins!) but then he changed his mind.
Their moans, and thrashing about, didn’t seem pleasant. They seemed like they were in pain. He stared down at the boy nearest him, and then stared at the server-boy. //Night, Sir. You, all you, you eat night, and − cry − night.//
The boy’s Kelii was worse even than Ishvi’s, but he caught the drift.
The other boys were doing this moaning thing all night, and getting up to eat?
Bizarre. Why would they be hungry? And why was he hungry?
Regardless, he was hungry. He turned back and got himself some more meat.
Sorry for the delay in posting this. I had a couple of busy weeks and rand out of pre-posted material :)
Thank you for reading Von’s Substack. I would love it if you commented! I love hearing from readers, especially critical comments. I would love to start more letter exchanges, so if there’s a subject you’re interested in, get writing and tag me!
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Von
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Island People
Island People is a young adult fantasy book centring on a young prince. The book starts with his kidnapping and follows his adventures as he not only escapes from his kidnapper but gains critical allies and friends.
The entire book is scheduled on Substack, and there are several sequels. This is a book I wrote years ago, so it is in a bit of a rough form. Critiques and comments are more than welcome, they are requested.