“Language is the most massive and inclusive art we know, a mountainous and anonymous work of unconscious generations.”

Dryadian Folktale: The Flower King

Tcael Pewatc
Tcaela Pewadca smirine ardcesav hrosav, svurol fiulgol stoń wim bas. A dco arzcu swar wiń aerasy, nrutca ersa zem bas, vil vtcuhis zlotis smiruń ńwedcise viraedcol wim bi ersasium. Dco Tcaela Pewadca gzań zbasa, molise vil bzulise aertcise vtcuha zlota kres. Levin zcandaertcin erseńa zlota elvise gaevas. A vil kabzcise bza nrutcmela Tcaelathe Pewadcatce kres. Zcelol tcarol wiń kaesy zdcarasu, itra svura zverma daerem bas, vil gzirmu nrutciu zerameliu zalise Tcaele Pewadce zedrisa stom bas.
“Ehra mila gzan dasin hrosin, nrazaertcol hwarnoviol dwesa tolza dia belym-belym svurise ardces. Swarin haemin ba sies win dal, vil nalin ehrin nwetcin murnise svures win dalae. Vozatc siera vtcoryn dal. Dco tcaelu detcru giu swara hiańa dia ghelvrodav poroń gala, da siaertce kres. Tcael Pewadcalloń, talza dia borań galno?”
Hredcise, ghasu krentyńa melyń laesa lotasa Tcaelathe Pewadcatce ghrise kres. Be wim peghoń hwar zvalas, vil kelińu poviadcu ba dwes. Tcaele Pewadce scehise zedrisa stom basium.
“Laeseh milvizceh svurel Hworatc win dal. Ńule helze wim vael zcandaertcal, vil zcore helze win dah sfiulal. Da svuresin hrosin, da twele zaertce kres vil twela zluna lardcesa gzan das. Dco ga pson dala, vil scieru gzirmiu gruzyń wiń galna, siaertce da kresium, Tcael Pewadcalloń.”
Tcaele Pewadce zedrisa stom bza driadcas.
“Dcela zlota ge kres, Tcael Pewadcalloń… Gu kliva svurise ardcelno vil kliva ghrise ardcelno?”
Tcaeba brun Tcael Pewadcas.
“Ńwel wiń Hrowadcy zedrisal, ńier arzcu farun wiń ńwel nrutcmelal…”
A ńier Hrowadca sieratce kres, vil zedrisa stom bas.
“Ńwedca tcaerma vzulu arzcu ńrun Tcaela Pewadcala zedrisa mlodcav stos win dal, ńier ńwel wim balna sihrosav siaertcav atchise gzan dalae. Lote win nrutc zvalalis, zvalov wiń rovny evodcalarae.”
Scekrel wiń Hworadcas, vil zedrise bie tcaeba brun Tcael Pewadcas.
“Ńwel, ghra ersa zen das…”



The Flower King
When the Flower King came into the world, he resided upon a lush hilltop. He blossomed many beautiful flowers, as it was spring, and his blossoms were more enchanting than any other flower’s in the world. Many flowers from near and far traveled to see the Flower King. They gathered together in the deep valley, and suddenly a charming floret approached the King. She wore vivid green clothing with teeth like jades upon her red face, and elegantly as if dancing she began to speak with a delicate voice.
“I have grown up very lavishly staring at the lucid sea from sandy beaches, white like snow. I have bathed in the sweet rains of spring, and I have lived freely and carefree in the clear, soothing wind. I am known as the Rose. Through your majesty’s great virtue, I have come here to share with you my sweet aroma in my sleeping chambers. Will you accept me, your majesty?”
Soon after an old flower with cane in hand clumsily approached the King. She had faded white hair, and she stood with a crooked stem. She spoke politely to the King.
“I am the Orchid who lives by the old river. To the south stretches a boundless field, and to the north lies towering mountains. I have traveled great distances and I have seen many moons pass in my lifetime. I am here to serve, and to prevent your majesty from being blinded by the poisons of appearance.”
A dryas flower then spoke to the King.
“Two flowers have approached you, your majesty… To whom will you listen and to whom will you not?”
The King answered accordingly.
“The Orchid knows well, but such a floret of beauty is quite rare…”
The Orchid came forward and spoke once more.
“I humbly believed the wise King would recognize true loyalty, but now as I stand here, I clearly see that is not so. A flower may have beautiful petals, but underneath those petals may also lie thorns.”
The Orchid turned to leave, and the King responded to her words.
“Indeed, I have made a mistake…”


Translation Notes:
Many of the different types of flowers presented in this story have certain cultural connotations in the Dryadian language. Roses are a very manipulative, beautiful yet dangerous, and to call someone a "rose" implies that they are such. Orchids are viewed as delicate and weak, thus calling someone an "orchid" is comparable to calling someone a "wimp" or "weakling" in English, perhaps even implying they are elderly. The title itself refers to a flower, literally translating as "The Great Peony", peonies being seen as large and powerful, the "king of the flowers" in a way. The general word for "hair" in Dryadian is also the word for "leaf", however in this context the word for "petal" is used.
(As Dryadian is full of words containing double meanings and special phrases that allude to nature, it is hard to grasp and express everything in translation, or to even explain it without going into depth. So these are just a few notes I found most necessary for the story.)

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