Poor Ormod

I envision Cedeira’s culture as, essentially, Theme Park Germanic Medieval Europe with some actual historical tidbits. It’d be more accurate to say that it’s analogous to northern half of Europe in general (including northeastern), but dominated by a minority of quasi-Anglo-Saxon elite from northern Cedeira.

(That is, they’re concentrated in northern Cedeira now. Originally, they weren’t from there at all; their ancestors lived in what is now central Marelia, and were driven out first by dragons, and later by dryads and Elentians.)

One of the things I did to underscore the association was to use Anglo-Saxon or Anglo-Saxon-inspired names for the Cedeiran characters, usually with an eye to meaning. So, the children of the Poldan family:

Bletsung: blessing

Ormod: sad, despairing, hopeless

Giva: gift

Wynedra: stream-joy

One of these is not like the others.

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Update: transitions are the worst

20 pages into the transition chapter of doom!

General feeling: ugh.

Probably my favourite passage:

“Was she part of the royal family?”

Arceptra nodded, then shook her head. “A cousin. Distant cousin. But everyone knew of her. She was the favourite of Princess Evadne, and a captain in the war like Aunt Ariana, and … ” She swallowed again.

I almost asked about that, but I found it so easy to believe that Alaia Cordell had been a soldier that I didn’t bother.

Your regularly scheduled attack of paranoia

The damn Starks lurked me back to Game of Thrones, and as I was watching the Daenerys scenes, I suddenly had the horrible thought that it might seem Arceptra was ripped off from her.

I mean:

– Magic immunity to fire

– Association with dragons

– Heiress of a former, much more firmly established, inbred dynasty

– Small with startling eyes

In fact, Arceptra was ripped off from something completely different. 

Specifically, an SNES game from over twenty years ago, which I imprinted on at age seven and promptly reimagined with my own stories. Of course she’s drifted considerably from there. So naturally there are significant differences:

– Arceptra is a pyromancer of the classic lights-flames-on-her-hands variety; the immunity to fire is a Required Secondary Power.

– Lhûn dragons are really a subject for another post, but the short version is that, while they’re Standard Edition Dragons in most respects, they are fiercely independent and rational beings with their own history, culture, politics, and struggles, the worst of which is relentless overpopulation.

– The Cordells are … not Targaryens. They are really, really not Targaryens. They’re generally stable, there’s no incest beyond cousin marriage, their glamour comes via their descent from a religious martyr rather than a conqueror, the distinctive family gift is clairvoyance, and the last Cordell queen abdicated of her own will and was succeeded by her chosen heir. Her descendants remain powerful and respected, in close alliance with the current dynasty, and the attempts to restore them to the monarchy has very little support from the Cordells themselves.

– The Cordells typically have brown skin, very dark brown hair—nearly black—and bright blue eyes.

It does feel a bit like the lady-doth-protest-too-much, even though I myself know Arceptra has been with me for far longer than I’ve had any idea of GRRM’s existence. :\


“It is not nothing,” I said firmly. “It is a kindness, one of many, and that—” My tongue tripped not over words, but the absence of them, the chasms of feeling in my schoolroom Elentian. “That carries significance for me.”


Her hands stilled. She didn’t smile, as she so often did, but something still softened her whole face.


“You’re welcome, then,” she said.

When I was burning out in the last phases of my MA program, I really had no capacity left for writing. My dear friend Juliana suggested making an aesthetic post for the novel instead. I considered a general one, but in the end decided to focus on the two protagonists, Giva Rohondyl and Arceptra Cordell—and heartily enjoyed it!


– “Giva” is Rachel Hurd-Wood in Perfume (Hurd-Wood is twenty-five to Giva’s thirteen, but was fifteen at the time of the film)

– “Arceptra” is a photograph by Felix Heru Hermawan, which I ran over years ago and immediately thought (apart from eye colour) the perfect Arceptra.


In my post on the muddled linguistic nightmare/heaven that is the Giva POV, I failed to mention that an additional consideration rattling around my head is what Cedeiran scholarship on Elentian would even look like. I mean, the standard Cedeiran party line is that Elentians are a subhuman, demonic, bastard race. Even skeptics are hardly going to have a positive or neutral take on them—and that does spill over to language.

Naturally, I whiled away a few hours imagining the horrorshow of Cedeiran texts on Elentian. Something like:

The Elentian tongue, like its people, has origins in a past so distant and unknown that none can guess at the true stock. Whatever its base, the language today can only be described as the mongrel child of some gross linguistic hedonism, the result of many different languages mixing freely together without regard for the quality or legitimacy of the result. Consequently the language produced by this heedless admixture suffers from constant perversities, inconsistencies, unpleasantnesses, and general impurity—also, one might say, just as its people.

To their credit, however, the Elentians have made repeated attempts to enforce some order and respectability on their bastard tongue. Over a thousand years ago, the Elentian empress Elleyne [nb: Helaina of House Moiradar] ordered the dialect of the imperial city to be taught throughout the schools she established. More recently, some three hundred years ago, a Marelian queen named Jypolia [nb: Xipolye of House Myrane] commissioned the creation of a dictionary to be used in the schools, which rear up all Elentian children. The dictionaries standardized spelling and instituted a system of diacritics to untangle the disastrous orthography. Nevertheless, only so much can be done for so degenerate and wayward a language. Particularly in Nerocna, rogue dialects sprout up like weeds, and persistent just as stubbornly.

If this description seems too harsh, the intricacies of the Elentian plural should serve to illustrate.

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