#I don’t even know how to phonetically type how I just spoke to that old lady who wouldn’t let me in the studio

[cartoon-skeleton]

When I get a little scared and tha midwestern accent comes out

[urmomsstuntdouble]

ok not sure how comprehensible this post is gonna be but! regarding the languages discussion, here are my thoughts about the anglo americans. be warned this post is long as fuck, but thank you so much if you do read all of it, and i’d love to hear your thoughts about it as well! 

so i just wanna start with alfred’s name- alfred. i think he may be named after alfred the great of wessex, who may or may not have been the first king of england. he wasn’t technically the king of a unified england that we’d think of it as today- he was the king of wessex, as his title implies, but there was a point at which he was “in charge” or however you want to put it of most of present day southern england. anyway this presents the first of his issues with his identity. he’s permanently tied to britain beyond just his culture and most common language- his name is a reminder of who he “belongs to.” of course most people don’t know that and they just think it’s a little odd that this 19yo miles morales type is called alfred but eh, what are you gonna do. 

then you have the fact that there’s no official language in the US, which makes things a little harder for him. he’s never sure what language he’s supposed to be speaking in, as the human representative of america. he thinks it should be english, seeing as that is the lingua franca, but there’s times when he just doesn’t vibe with english as a language. i mentioned before that he struggles with keeping his (spanish) dialects straight (which @cupofkey summed up as immigrant-kid-syndrome and that’s exactly it), although its not limited to just spanish. he also has a hard time keeping other shit in line, to the extent where his thoughts are a messy jumble of languages, concepts, images, and feelings. this is most evident when he’s nervous, because his accent will get super thick and he’ll start just saying the words that pop into his mind, even if they’re in another language or straight up not words at all. the only peson who can understand him when he’s doing this is canada. both of them are countries of immigrants, although they are different in who immigrated and when, so they dont have the exact same nervous tick language, but it’s close enough that they can communicate well. it’s sort of like a more global version of europanto? might sound something like this to an outside observer, but again, more global (also for the video they dont start talking until 1:17). 

america and canada also have a sort of inextricable bond because of the first nations people. the first tribe that comes to mind are the members of the okanagan national alliance, which straddles the present day border of british columbia and washington state (this is also something america shares with mexico). it’s caused a lot of pain between them personally, and with the okanagan nation. just as the border itself is vague- though the us-canada border is more respected than the okanagan borders- the parts of their identities are also vague. they feel bits and pieces of themselves ebbing and flowing, and matt and fred have gotten into arguments about it because they struggle to define their identities and they just want to be able to explain themselves to themselves. but you know that often winds up causing friction with the okanagan nations, because whatever issues with identity regarding their indigenous people fred and matt are having. they’ve got it worse, only in a sort of..negative image. like whereas fred and matt feel it on the fringes of themselves, making it so they cant tell where they end and other nations begin, the okanagan nations feel themselves being slowly eroded. none of them want each other to suffer, though, because the okanagan people can be americans and canadians and okanagans all at the same time. 

this also applies with the american border with mexico, seeing as there’s some areas in the southwestern us where spanish is spoken more than english. when he’s down there, freddie finds it easier to communicate than when he’s speaking english. chicano is his language just as much as english is- he just sort of became able to speak it when the west was colonized, and he already knew spanish for business purposes, so there ya go. there are some issues with that though because the spanish in the west is primarily from mexico and central america, whereas the east is more from the caribbean- like how miami has a large cuban minority. so he’s got a weird sort of chicano english too, because it’s no longer “pure” chicano. pure is a very loose term there because there is of course variation within southwestern chicano speakers. angelinos don’t have the same chicano as nuevomexicanos. anyway i think he’d get it mixed up with spanish proper or spanglish a lot because of the similar phonetic rules. i’m not sure about any indigenous tribes who have land that straddles the us-mexico border, but that’s probably not alfred’s biggest worry with That Border. actually no i think he might purposefully talk in an aggressively chicano dialect whenever someone in the government wants to talk to him about the ice concentration camps. like he usually doesn’t try that hard to keep the wrong language out of his mouth but he will go Full Chicano, just to make them uncomfortable and to try to get the point across that he can literally feel the physical pain of the people trapped at the border in those camps. but this also causes some tension with the countries of origins of those people, seeing as they can also feel that pain. there’s quite a lot of discourse between america, mexico, guatemala, honduras, and el salvador about that, because none of them quite know what to do. they argue again about whose pain it is and how they should, as nation personifications, deal with it.

another thing that he struggles with where matt is concerned is with his indigenous languages. the languages of his northernmost people are the most at risk and endangered, and some are actually in the process of dying. he hates that, because as much as he wants to act like he speaks just SCE and quebecois, he doesn’t. he knows all of his people’s languages, and it makes him feel like he’s losing his identity a little bit when his indigenous languages start fading away. the worst part about this is that he doesn’t even always know it’s happening until the fading feeling kicks in, so sometimes he’ll just make a point of going up to the northwestern territories and try to hang out with the oldest inuit people he can find to try and have a chat. and it’s ROUGH communicating at first but when he can get back into it he feels more solid and defined. i think this isn’t unique to him, and that the other countries in the americas do this too, but bc of the way civil rights work in canada, it’s a little different for him. because indigenous canadians are recognized as a certain class of citizen, indigenous canadian governments have a collective legal bargaining power and could theoretically ask for legal protections from the ottowa government for their languages. however, this doesn’t apply to the northwest territories, so that’s why matt goes there specifically to talk to old ass indigenous people. their languages aren’t protected legally in the same way that french and quebecois are, so he sort of takes it upon himself as mr canada to do preserve the languages and history. it’s especially sad when a language dies out forever, because then he’s one of very few people who still speak it and if he wants anyone else to know about it he’d have to teach them. but since the language is dead, there’s no one for him to get help from. the people who once spoke it are gone or use other languages now, and it’s all very weight of the world on his shoulders. i think this makes him very sad, because of the weirdly smug left wing anti-american nature of canadian nationalism. like he understands exactly the sort of pressure freddie is under but also has a cultural pressure to not say anything about it or even offer to help. 

this is also why he has the most boring and basic idiolect out of perhaps the entire anglosphere- even arthur has a distinct posh dialect that he uses most of the time. matthew talks like a textbook. a very polite and anxious textbook, but a textbook all the same. and matthew williams actually kind of likes what alfred jones has going on, but canada doesn’t. canada fell into british hands after the end of the 7yr war, which happened to be the war that sparked the american revolution (speaking of which the ages for america and canada make no goddamn sense, ask me about it if you want more detailed thoughts). loyalists fled to canada, and developed a superiority complex around the idea that they weren’t ungrateful. then it was about how they weren’t slave owners- which isn’t entirely true- and in the present day, even in hetalia canon, canadians often define themselves in relation to america. that is, they are better than americans because of xyz political thing. right now, to quote the anime, it’s “our free healthcare and lack of gun crime, eh.” this also poses some difficulties for canada in terms of culture, though, because if that much of their national pride comes from being better than america, what do they have to make a name for themselves? for anglo canadians, that’s a more complicated question. for quebeckers, it’s that the’re not anglo canadians. but quebec is also annoying as fuck and canada actually has nightmares about there being a successful secession movement there, so. i don’t know what the average anglo canadian thinks of quebec seeing as im not an average anglo canadian, but i do know that i hate their accents so now matt does too, although he will respect their right to have their language protected by the ottowa government (because quebec, that’s why). 

anyway i do have one last thought and that’s that nobody will ever really know america or canada like they know each other. they struggle with a lot of the same issues regarding language, but america has just sort of given up. in some ways, matt’s jealous of him, and in others he’s so glad he’s not the united states. but they do understand each other a lot as the anglo americans, and as some of the number one destinations for immigration out of the entire world. so yeah, i dont have any specific strong conclusion ot this post, but would absolutely love to hear your thoughts about languages in the americas! shit’s wack in this neck of the woods my dudes. 

oh actually one last thing. i think america and canada struggle a bit with their identities because they dont fit into any one specific group, linguistically or otherwise. they feel a bit isolated from the rest of the world specifically due to the intensity of the melting pot effect, and even within their own countries sometimes. people will be like oh you’re too white or you’re too black or you’re too dine or too much whatever other culture, so they often feel isolated from that stuff because they are all of those things, and have a deep connection with all of it. anyway they’ll always be there for each other

[circle-of-six-mages]

Prologue: 1000 Years Ago

The carriage bumped along, carrying six happily chatting girls and one miserable driver. It was no wonder that his mood was like this; it had been raining for over an hour now; since about five minutes after the girls reboarded the carriage.

They had been on a mission delivered straight from the High King of Rashiviio, and he was their transportation. When they climbed in the carriage, as if by magic, it began pouring.

He sighed and decided to take a nap. The horses knew their way back to Ranseed Palace. He could only sleep for a few minutes, but he couldn't stay awake, either; his eyes were drooping down.

He woke to startled whinnying. He noticed with dismay that it was no longer raining. He must've slept longer than he wanted to.

One of the horses whinnied again, snapping him out of his thoughts. He wasn't worried; they spooked at everything. A rabbit had probably ran across their path. He opened his eyes, preparing to calm the horses down.

And immediately let out the scream of a five-year-old girl.

Standing in front of him was a 10 foot tall A-Class Scorpion Type Demon.

“Hello.” The Demon said as if it were trying to appear amiable. However, evil leaked through its voice, and its true intentions were crystal clear to the driver.

They were in a clearing in the woods. He recognized this part of the woods; it was about a mile away from the bridge over the Great Divide, which separated the town where the High King’s palace stood and the Kingdom of Earth, from which all Earth Mages hailed.

“Mr. Driver?” Came another voice. They had probably sensed the Demon’s presence, and were trying to make sure he was alright.

He finally found his voice. “HELP!” He screamed. “PLEASE HELP ME!”

The Demon pouted. At least, that's what it looked like to the driver. It was really just a giant black blob in the shape of a scorpion.

“Here I was gonna tell you why I didn't kill you while you slept. You still wanna know?” It asked.

Inside the carriage, there was rustling. Probably the girls grabbing their swords and usual fighting staffs.

The driver could only stare at the Demon with an almost comically scared face and skin paler than that of a ghost. It was all he could do not to pee his pants.

The Demon cocked his head. “If you don't answer, I'm gonna kill you.” He said impatiently.

Then came a series of knocks on the wood behind him. He recognized it as Hemres Code, a phonetic code invented thousands of years ago that most humans still knew and used. He realized they were relying on him being one of the many who did.

Keep him distracted. They said. We’ve got a plan.

How am I supposed to do that?!

He took a deep breath. If these girls can face death fearlessly almost every day, I can distract it, right? It can't be that hard. I mean, this one seems to like talking.

He looked up at the Demon, “Sure. Why didn't you kill me?”

The Demon seemed to smile. “Well, first of all, may I say that you look adorable when you’re sleeping?! And second of all-” here, the Demon’s smile became malicious- “I never make my kill while their eyes are closed. If I do that, I can't watch the light leave their eyes! And that’s the best part about killing.” He looked at the driver. “Speaking of which-” he poised his tail to kill the driver-

And a blue blur whizzed by the tail, taking the tail with it. A blue-haired girl appeared about five feet away from the Demon, crouching, her sword poised at her side from the follow-through of her swing. The Demon’s tail thumped in the grass next to her.

Two crimson daggers flew out of the woods to the driver’s left, bouncing off of the Demon’s tough armor.

Seconds later, five mages jumped down in a circle around him, with the blue-haired girl completing it. Red, brown, purple, white, and black haired fluttered in the air as the girls landed and straightened.

The Demon seemed to smirk. “Nice try, for girls anyway. However, only Element Blades can pierce my armor. And you can only receive them from the Gods and Goddesses of your respective element.” He whirled around to face the girl with blue hair. “Which this one seems to have, meaning…

I have to kill you first.”

In response, the girls each drew a blade that matched their hair. The Demon stopped short. If he could have, he would've paled.

They all had Element Blades.

Element Blades were swords made purely from a Mage’s Element. One had to receive them from the patron God or Goddess of their Element. For example, a Fire Mage had to prove herself to the Fire Goddess, Meeria, in order to receive such a sword.

The girl with white hair smiled sunnily. “Yes, of course we do!” She frowned innocently. “You do know who we are, right?”

The Demon just about died of a heart attack. These were not just any Mages. These were not just a random group of six Mages. This was the group of six Mages. The Circle of Six Mages.

A quiet voice spoke behind him. “We have these, too.” It said. He whirled to ask what she meant and was met by a purple Element Dagger in his chest. He began to crumble and fade, turning into a pile of black rocks, at the top of which a glittering black stone rested, glittering in the setting sun.

The girl with black hair stepped forward and grabbed it. She smiled softly. “Another Onyx, almost as good as the one from that SSS class monstrosity.” She said, slipping it in her cloak pocket before drawing the hood.

The driver just sat, clutching the reins, appearing as though he were in a permanent state of shock. The horses had long since run off.

A very demonic screech sounded in the direction of the Divide. Then another, and another. Screeches came every few seconds.

The Circle looked at each other warily. It sounded like there were a lot of Demons.

The purple haired girl stepped up shyly. She waved her hand. “Here.” She said, and a ball of wind surrounded the carriage, picking up dust and leaves and other debris. “This'll take you home. You can use the reins to control it, just like the horses. Go ahead, we’ll be back at the palace soon, and stop by the stables to tell you we’re alright.”

Her voice was quiet, and very, very shy.

The driver merely nodded, and snapped the reins as if there really were horses in front of it. Soon he was riding away at top speed.

The girls gave each other a grim look, and took off through the woods. There couldn't be that many, or they would've been seen by people traveling by. It was a busy road, after all. Even if they'd hidden in the divide, they would've been seen by people crossing it barely a mile away.

The Mages raced through the woods, combing the area for any trace of demonic energy.

About ten minutes later, they came to the Divide. They looked around. Nothing.

We must've imagined it. Thought the blue-haired girl, tucking a shoulder length strand of hair behind her ear.

“There are no demons here, and it sounds like one is no more than fifty yards away.” The black-haired girl said, deep in thought.

As if to answer her, another screech sounded, this one even closer. And suddenly, at the bottom of the canyon, a cat type demon shimmered into sight. It looked straight at them and yowled again.

The blue-haired girl’s face contorted in confusion.”But how did it conceal itself from us? I've never seen this!”

“If you can shut up from your no-knowledge-breakdown, four eyes, she has an idea.” Said the redhead, pointing to the girl with white hair. She was chewing on her lip thoughtfully.

The girl with blue hair glared at the redhead, shoved her glasses up her nose, and nodded for the white- haired girl to continue.

“Well,” she began, smiling, “back in the Kingdom of Light, we would use a type of barrier to keep the smaller villages that were more prone to attack hidden. It was a Dome-Type that kept everything under it invisible. The only catch was it didn't have any sort of repulsion, so if you stumbled under the Dome, you could see everything.”

The blue-haired girl, still looking a little wary, scrunched her eyebrows again. “Well, how do we hear that cat like it’s almost within arm’s reach? This canyon is over one thousand miles deep!”

The white-haired girl nodded. “My many-times great grandmother enchanted it, back during the reign of the Second High King. Basically, she made it so that sound in this area is all on a flat plain. Meaning, even though the demons are technically over a thousand miles away from us, on the magic plain, they're not even five feet away. That's also why we can see them so clearly from so far away. The King requested it as an early-warning system.”

The redhead sighed impatiently. “Great, that's great, we know why shit happens. Amazing. I don't care. Let's go kill it.”

“No!” The white-haired girl said. “There’s probably a reason the barrier was erected. We should scout it out from up here first.”

The girl with blue hair nodded,rubbing invisible dirt off of her glasses. “I agree. If someone was smart enough to erect the barrier-” she paused, breathed hot air on her glasses, and continued wiping and speaking- “they were trying to hide something.” She put her glasses back on. “We should find out what it is.”

The redhead looked like she wanted to jump down and clash head-on with the Cat Demon (which was giving itself a cat bath), but the girl with glasses merely glared at her and said sternly, “from up here.”

The redhead growled frustratedly, but the blue haired girl just rolled her eyes. “We need a plan.”

The whited haired girl, deep in thought again, said,”what if we picked them off from up here? The canyon is very deep; not even a SSS Class Demon could jump it. They'd have to climb, and we can kill them before they reach us.”

As she had talked, a smile had grown across the strategist's face. Pushing her glasses up her nose, she asked,”Can you do the invisibility dome spell?”

A smile equivalent to the strategist’s grew on her face. “Yup.”

“Let's do this then.”

And suddenly, all the Mage's eyes lit up, as if there had been some form of invisible communication. All of their eyes gleamed with determination as they began to execute their silently communicated plan.

The Water Mage raised her arms and drew one back, as if knocking an invisible arrow on an invisible bow. And then one shimmered into existence, quite literally because it was made of aquamarines that could've passed as water. The arrow she was knocking was made of wickedly pointed tip. She aimed it at the Cat Demon.

The Light  Mage drew her arm back, mimicking poising a spear for throwing. She opened her palm ard a light appeared over it, extending until it became one, made of a white, almost transparent quartz.

The Dark Mage held her arms by her side, extended about a foot. In each hand, spheres materialized which appeared to devour the very air around it. From that darkness, a boomerang formed in each hand, its wickedly sharp blade glinting in the sun.

The Wind Mage held her arms in an X in front of her. She opened her hands, and winds began gathering around her, beginning to glow violet. The winds died down, leaving her holding two amethyst chakrams, one in each hand.

The Earth Mage held her hand out in front of her, her fingers spread yet flat, but her index finger curled. A glowing boulder almost a foot wide fell out of nowhere. It landed in her palm and shattered so profoundly that all was left was dust and a dark brown slingshot in her palm, the ring around her finger, already loaded.

The Fire Mage, not seeming very happy about not being in blade-to-blade combat, held her arm behind her in a similar fashion to the Light Mage. Flames roared and sparked, but instead of a spear, she was left with a ruby-red atlatl.

This happened in perfect unison. Immediately after summoning her weapon, the Light Mage began glowing. A dome began to spring from her, resisting like an elastic band. Finally, it practically exploded, shooting out as far as they could see. What was left was an invisibility dome about ten feet high and ten feet in diameter. They could see through it as if nothing was there.

This all happened in less than ten seconds, for the girls knew they had to act quickly. And act quickly they did. As soon as the dome was in place, they simultaneously began their attack.

The Water Mage released her arrow, piercing the Cat Demon right in the butt, as it was chasing its tail. It gave a pained yowl and crumbled into a pile of red rocks, a ruby perching at the top. The blue haired girl pulled back the arrow string again, another arrow springing into existence with a small pop. She did this again and again, sometimes releasing the string so early that the arrows came into existence flying through the air as if they'd been on the bow since the beginning.

The Light Mage threw her spear. It crashed through five demons before burying itself halfway up the shaft on the opposite canyon wall. She drew her left hand back and threw nothing, but a spear sparked into existence about two feet from her. She repeated this process over and over, each spear killing five or six demons.

The Dark Mage threw one of the boomerangs. It spun, arcing around as it spun. It sliced through several Demons before disappearing completely. She set up to spin another, releasing one after the other.

The Wind Mage threw one of the chakrams like a frisbee, and one replaced it in her hand immediately. It cut through quite a few Demons before slicing through a canyon wall and disappearing. She threw the chakram in the other hand and continued this alternating pattern.

The Earth Mage spun the slingshot a couple times and released the rock. About three feet from the sling, it grew into a boulder almost five feet in diameter. It landed with a huge thunk and crushed a few Demons, tossing still others to the side.

The Fire Mage swung the atlatl with one hand like a whip. However, instead of a powerful string coming around, a dart whizzed from the long shaft. She raised and swung again and again, darts automatically reloading themselves.

As the projectiles began to exit the shield, most of them teleported to different parts of the canyon, so they rained down equally and randomly. This way, no Demon could follow the volleys and figure out where the Six were.

Stones of red, orange yellow, green, blue, violet, black and even brown crumbled from fallen Demons, perched with stones that matched the color of the stones: rubies, topazes, citrines, emeralds, sapphires, amethysts, onyxes, and pretty brown larkrakrovs. However, no white stones or gems appeared.

“You know, attacking from a place where no one can see you is rather rude. Shall we even go to the playing field a bit?”said an unfamiliar voice. Before the girls could even turn to see the speaker, they all had the sensation of being kicked in the stomach, but from behind, like something had gone through their spine to attack the lining of it. They all fell into the Divide.

The Wind Mage, thinking quickly, created an air bubble around the Six to slow their descent. Five minutes later, they landed softly and safely on the ground.

A huge black cloud appeared immediately in front of them, radiating huge amounts of demonic energy. The girls knew this amount of power could only mean one thing.

A SSSS Class Demon.

There had only been one other SSSS Class Demon in the Circle’s three hundred years. When it had appeared, it took the help of fourteen other Mages to defeat it. Even then, they'd lost six to the Demon.

The difference between a SSS Class and a SSSS Class Demon was incredible. SSS Class Demons had a blind spot and three Weak Points that could be targeted to kill it. This was always true, no matter what animal form it appeared in. As far as they knew, SSSS Class Demons had no blind spot and only one Weak Point. Its sense of smell was off the charts, and so was its magic sensitivity and resistance. It could conceal its magical and demonic presence in the snap of a finger.

And now one stood before them, ready to fight, appearing ominously in a swirling black cloud of smoke and dust.

They wondered what form it would take. Fox? Rabbit? Tiger? Maybe it would be able to shapeshift.

“I'm glad you didn't die of the fall.” Came the Demon’s voice. It chuckled. “That would be no fun.” It began laughing hysterically. “You may want to draw your weapons, ladies. I'll give you time.”

As much as they hated to listen to a Demon, they knew they had to draw their close-range weapons, and they would not get another chance later on.

The Water Mage held her hands by her left side, the left one clutching an invisible sheath and the right one wrapping around a nonexistent blade handle. Water came out of nowhere, swirling around her, then focusing on between her hands and forming a glowing blue dussack.  It stopped glowing and turned into a gleaming citrine blade. With a practiced hand, she drew it from its sheath so quickly her arm blurred. Water flew at a deadly speed in the direction her arm waved.

Simultaneously, the Fire Mage held her hands on her waist, her left hand on her right side and vice versa. Flames wrapped around her, turning into six flaming belts with handles. The flames cooled and died, leaving two triple bladed urumis. She expertly unwrapped the whip blades from her waist, leaving not even a single scratch despite their lethal sharpness. As they flew free from their belt disguise, flames swirled around the Mage.

Taking her cue from the Demon at the same time as the other two, the Earth Mage jumped, slamming her fists into the ground. It swallowed her hands up to her wrists. She lifted them from it ten seconds later, coated in a thick sort of glove made of glowing earth. The glow ceased and formed two cestuses made of gleaming amber. She punched them together, knuckle to knuckle, and stood ready to fight. As her knuckles connected, the earth around them rumbled and split in a few places.

Chewing her lip uncertainly but going along with it, the Wind Mage stood in an elegant pose, the kind one might see a Sky Dancer finish a dance in. In her hands the winds gathered, glowing violet and forming what looked like fans. The winds died and the glowing ceased, leaving her holding two tourmaline  tourmaline tessens. She flicked them and wind surged powerfully around her.

The Dark Mage raised her arms, reaching the peak at the same time as the Earth Mage began coming down from her jump. She clenched her fists and swiped them downward, taking all the light out of the path of invisible claw-like blades. When she stopped, she had tekko-kagi blades mounted on her hands.

The Light Mage, with a sunny smile, held her arms out straight and rigid, as if mimicking a gliding bird. Her hands closed in fists, and a bright light shone from inside them. The light grew and expanded, forming a sort of sword with thin rods coming up about halfway up her forearm. The light dimmed, leaving two diamond katars with gold handles and guards, finishing her summon after the Water Mage even though they'd started at the same time. Her smile grew impossibly wider as she slashed them while preparing her body to fight. The blades left a trail of blinding light, and it expanded until it reached the Demon’s bubble. It exploded violently.

To the Circle’s shock, a very human-looking man in a classy blue suit flew backwards out of the explosion.

The Demon was thrown back at least ten feet, but did a graceful backflip and landed in a crouch, his fingertips touching the ground. He was gone in a flash, leaving only a blurry black after-image. He laughed as he moved. “Shocked, girls? You should be.” He cackled like a malicious madman.

The Light Mage moved swiftly and gracefully, spinning and slashing her katar in her left hand and cutting his shoulder, before delivering a hard kick to his face. “It's not very nice to kick the very first Human Type Demon.”  He said poutily.

The Demon moved his body with the energy from the kick, attacking the Fire Mage next. “Yeah, well, it's not nice to throw people off cliffs, either.” She the Fire Mage responded, bracing herself for the attack.

However, before he could even close half the distance toward her, the ground rumbled. An enormous disc of earth fifty feet wide and only about three feet thick flew free from the ground so quickly that the Demon was thrown almost thirty feet into the air.

All of the Mages seemed to be prepared for this, however. Not only had they braced their bodies against the flying disc, but they all had earthen boots attaching them to it. As soon as the disc stopped flying, the boots disappeared.

The Earth Mage had created an arena suitable to their fighting range.

By now, the remaining Demons had noticed the fight and were gathering to watch.

The Demon the six were fighting had begun to fall from being thrown into the air. He twisted so he would fall in a more optimal position, but the Fire Mage sent a huge blast of flames toward him while the Water Mage sent a disc of ice flying at him to throw him off balance. At the same time, the Earth Mage had begun skating across the ground as if it were ice instead of stone. She leapt when she was under the Demon and used the Earth to give her leap a boost. In the air, she twisted, kicked him where the sun didn’t shine, punched his cheek, and smashed her feet into his stomach, slamming him into the ground.

He gritted his teeth and sent out a wave of demonic energy. It threw all of the Mages off balance. He rose to his feet, a little unsteadily. “You think you've won?” He chuckled darkly. “I haven't even drawn my weapon yet.”

His left arm clutched his bleeding left shoulder, the black stuff oozing from between his fingers. However, his right fingers extended, an elegant black rapier appearing about an inch away from his palm. It finished forming and began to fall. He clasped the handle quickly, and the previously missing blade guards appeared snugly on either side of his hand. He slashed it, and somehow this healed his wound. He grinned maniacally.

The Dark Mage glared at the Demon as she regained her senses. Stomping her foot to steady her balance, she sprang off the ground into a graceful flip. Her tekko-kagi claws raked the ground, a long, high pitched screech resounding because of it. Darkness and stone flew up from her slash, forming five black bubble-like objects. They hit the remaining disoriented Mages, and their eyes cleared and they regained their balance.

A flash went through all their eyes: an idea, a plan. The Fire Mage and the Wind Mage twisted and spun together, urumi and tessen swinging and flying in a graceful dance. Wind and fire erupted in their wake, the winds strengthening the blasts of flame and then surges slicing through them like they were nothing more than butter.

The Demon smirked and stood his ground, standing in a leisurely way, as if waiting on a street for a friend. With a single slash of his sword, the assault was gone.

And so were the girls.

He felt an unusual uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't even feel their presence, no magical trace despite their enormous mana capacity, nothing. Yet he somehow knew they were still there.

Suddenly, he couldn't move. His muscles froze in place, and no amount of struggling, magical or physical, could get him out of his predicament.

Suddenly, a huge column of fire erupted from the ground directly in front of him. Most of the mana was sucked out of the air, not quite that big a feat since there wasn't much mana in the Divide. He was surprised that hadn't happened earlier.

Then he remembered something. The Circle had trained to the point where they used almost no mana on every spell. Rumor had it that for the simplest of spells, they literally used none. So if they were using this much mana…

Terror struck him to his very core. They were using an extremely powerful spell.

And he could do nothing to stop or avoid it.

The Fire Mage stepped out of the flames, her hair flying wildly around her to the point where it looked like her whole head was on fire. She smirked as the mana in the air quickly recharged. “Not fun being the helpless one, is it, Demon?” As she spoke, the mana recharge finished, leaving more mana than had been there at first. The Fire Mage pointed the guard of her urumi at him. “Prepare to die.”

And then, without warning, a geyser came out of nowhere and shot skyward. It took about half of the mana with it. The Demon tried to figure out where it was coming from; the three-foot-thick stone was not big enough for that large a reservoir.

And then the Water Mage emerged, completely dry, yet meticulously wiping moisture off her glasses. “She has a point, for once.” She said, examining the lenses for any trace of fog or water. The Fire Mage shot her a dirty look. “We had a plan, and you fell for it.” The blue haired girl smirked and put her glasses back on, drawing her dussack. “Hook, line, and sinker.”

By now, the mana in the air had recharged, once again leaving more than was there before. The Demon continued struggling, trying to do something as slight as even twitching a finger.

A harsh wind ripped through the canyon, taking roughly a third of the mana with it. Even the Demon, glued to the ground, didn't know how he managed to remain on his feet.

The wind collected debris as it went to its place next to the water chute. At its base, it went up to the sky, sort of like a reverse funnel cloud. It then evened out so that the debris-laden wind column was perpendicular to the makeshift arena.  The three sky-high elemental columns formed a perfect half circle around the edge of the arena.

The Wind Mage stepped out of her wind funnel, looking like her hair had just been brushed and styled, not a single strand out of place. “What, no snarky remark?” She said quietly. Her confident face turned worried as she looked across the semi circle at the Water Mage. “Was that alright?” The blue-haired girl rolled her eyes and looked pointedly at the Demon.

The Demon’s frozen face must have looked confused and panicked, because the Wind Mage gave him a knowing smile. “It's a mana duplication spell. You'll understand why momentarily.” As she finished speaking, the mana finished regenerating, and true to her word, left more in the air once again.

And as soon as the mana finished generating, a wall of earth shot up from the arena, wiping out around a quarter of the mana. The Earth Mage stepped out as if she were walking through air instead of a solid stone wall. Her face revealed nothing, and she said nothing, but the Demon could hear her voice in his head all the same. He had a funny feeling he was communicating through the stone.

You will die, Demon. She said. And after that, so will every Demon in this godsforsaken canyon.

The eerie voice chilled him deeper than the fear running through his veins, and planted more fear there, if that was even possible. He frantically ran idea after idea through his head, trying to come up with a survival plan, but they all ended with him dying.

Plan A- burned to ashes by the Fire Mage. Nope.

Plan B- drowned by the Water Mage. Definitely not.

Plan C- cut to shreds by the Wind Mage’s air blades. He cringed internally. Ouch. No.

Plan D- suffocated at least 30 feet underground by the Earth Mage. He tried to move his hand to his throat. Again, no.

As he continued his frantic planning, a huge column of pure darkness shot to the sky. He couldn't even tell how much mana it used, or how much it brought back with it. The Demon was actually beginning to feel quite suffocated by the sheer amount of mana in the air. The girls, however, appeared unaffected.

The Dark Mage emerged from her void, her hair the only thing darker than the spell. She said nothing, though her dark and brooding eyes were the embodiment of the saying if looks could kill.

And finally, completing the circle, a ball of light floated up from the ground. It was no bigger than a foot in diameter, but it exploded so it was just as large as the others. It exploded like a bolt of lightning and travelled even faster. It sucked a little bit of the mana out of the air, just like the others, and once again brought back more. The Light Mage emerged, her smile somehow brighter than the mass of light behind her.

“Do you like it? It’s really pretty, right! It's our signature spell! The-” she was about to continue, but the Water Mage cut her off with a look. She pouted, and took a step back.

The Demon knew only what the others knew about the Circle- only rumors and hearsay. Unfortunately, that did not include their signature spell.

And suddenly, all the mana was sucked from the air, and all the Mages pointed their weapons at them. The sudden release of mana made him feel like he was floating.

The Mages released their spell suddenly and swiftly. The water wall fell and multiplied, and stayed on the arena as if it were a giant glass, filling it up a good ten feet. The other spells sliced through it as if it were merely air. The Water Mage took off her glasses, scowled at them, and used the surrounding water to wipe microscopic dirt off of them.

The fire wall broke up into thousands and thousands of fire sprites, targeting the Demon mercilessly. The water seemed to not affect them at all. As they did, the Fire Mage smiled almost sadistically.

The wind wall turned into countless blades of wind and sliced at the Demon, cutting through the Fire Sprites without harming them, then looping around to attack again. The Wind Mage stood with a worried look on her face.

Parts of the earthen wall crumbled away or fused to others to solidify them further. What was left was several hundred golems, stacked one on top of another. The leapt down onto the arena and made not even a splash in the water. They made their way to the Demon, and reached him surprisingly quickly. Along with the fire sprites, they began wailing on the Demon. The Earth Mage held her ground, her face telling nothing.

The dark wall overtook everything; there was so little light that even the Dark Mage had trouble seeing. She could only imagine how much trouble the Demon was having.

The light wall, literally a white block in the spell of darkness, began practically spitting out great balls of light like comets. Even in normal lighting, they were blinding. They were brighter than the Light Mage’s smile, brighter than the Fire Mage’s flames, even brighter than the third and brightest sun, Rhysha. It didn't help the Demon that they were in near total darkness, amplifying the comets’ light. The Light Mage stood in front of her wall, her comets whizzing by her on either side of her, causing a slight breeze that made her hair dance.

And then all at once, everything cleared. The water ran off the stone island in great torrents, drowning more than a few Demons. The golems collapsed into piles of rubble, which were absorbed into the ground. The fire sprites disappeared, as if they were mere fire that had run out of fuel. The wind blades slowed and dulled, becoming one with the light breeze. The comets stopped coming out of the light wall, and the wall exploded, sending light even further than the horizon.

Only the darkness remained, but all of the Mage's irises, which had previously matched their hair, had begun to absorb the little light around them, giving a black color. It looked quite eerie, but it allowed each of them to see in the black. Only the Dark Mage's eyes remained the same.

As the last of the dust and water cleared, they looked anxiously upon the spot where the Demon had stood, all wondering the same thing: had the spell worked?

They all had a horrible queasiness in the pit of their stomachs, the kind one gets when something bad is about to happen.

And when the area finally cleared, the girls nearly screamed in alarm.

Nothing was there.

No rocks, no gems, no nothing.

And then suddenly, a huge amount of mana disappeared from the air. It came back like mist, creeping and expanding. The stuff was black, though, and made of pure darkness. It expanded, filling the whole arena but nothing beyond.

As soon as it touched her, the Light Mage's knees buckled and she fell. The Dark Mage rushed over and put the former’s hand over her shoulder, standing so that the Dark Mage supported the Light Mage.

The Demon smirked. The Dark Mist was weakening her. And none of the Mages could see in it, only he could see perfectly well.

At their confused and frightened looks, he smirked, and that got a chuckle darker than the mist out of him when he thought of how they couldn't see it.

“Oh, my lost little lambs.” He began haughtily.

“We are no lambs, and you are no shepard, you mangy mutt.” The redhead snarled harshly.

After a glaring chuckle, he continued, walking at a leisurely pace toward the Light and Dark Mages. “You see, when you released that pitiful attempt to kill me, you used aaaaaaaaaaall the mana. That left nothing to bind me. And I escaped.

He was no more than three feet away from the pair when the Dark Mage released the Light Mage and made a mad dash for the Demon. The Light Mage swayed but remained standing.

The Demon, not expecting this, was caught off guard. She swiped at him once, twice, three times, but he managed to dodge all of them. Regaining his senses, he kicked her in the side and she flew through the air, landing in a crumpled heap.

The Demon felt something drip down his face. He put his hands to it and looked at them. Black blood gleamed in the light that the Light Mage always seemed to give off. He made a noise that sounded like a fifty foot wolf was growling. He decided to kill her first for marring his face.

However, before he could even whirl toward her, two feet landed squarely on his chest. He flailed his arms in surprise, accidentally tossing his sword. He landed with a thunk on the ground, and was very surprised to find the Light Mage straddling his rib cage, smiling in an almost crazed way that still managed to be sunny. She began a thrust with her katar at his face, going in for the kill.

Just in time, he reached out, and his sword slid to him as if both his hand and it were magnets. As soon as it touched his hand, he swung it, parrying the blow.

He shoved her off of him, and while she was off balance, made a swipe at her feet. However, she had already regained her footing. She dropped her katar and did a back handspring to avoid the low swipe. And, instead of just avoiding it, she grasped the Demon’s blade between her feet and used the momentum from her handspring to toss it out of the arena.

The Demons had remained watching even when the Dark Mist fell, hoping to catch a glimpse of the intense fight.

However, when the Light Mage tossed the Human Type’s sword, it sailed into the sea of onlookers and stabbed a Mouse Type in the eye. It gave a high pitched squeak and crumble into amber rocks, a topaz gleaming on top.

The other Demons looked at the pile, took a step away from it, and continued watching the mist.

Back inside the arena, the Demon and the Light Mage fought intensely. Punches, kicks, swipes, and even slaps were exchanged. Once or twice the Demon reached for the Light Mage’s katar, but a huge flash of light followed by a resounding ZAP!! kept him from grasping the hilt.

Now. He thought. He drew a new rapier from thin air, swinging it as he drew it.

The Light Mage's head flew clean off her neck.

As it did, a huge explosion of light ensued, ridding the arena of the dark mist.

The other Mages had been holding hands and chanting, preparing a new assault as the Light and Dark Mages bought them time. The Dark Mage had just been pulling herself up, preparing to join the Light Mage. But as they watched the fight out the corners of their eyes,  looks of horror came upon their faces. Several seconds passed as the Mages stared in shock and the Demon kicked her head away, purely to anger the girls.

“NOOOOO!” One screamed, and glancing in that direction he discovered it was the Dark Mage.

Crying silently, each only shed one tear. A huge explosion sounded, and a huge Phoenix appeared.

Its huge body was red, but black markings made strange symbols all along its feathers. Its violet beak was the size of  small house, its wide, intelligent eyes the color of the Summer Ocean.

The Mages had disappeared. No, not disappeared. Thought the Demon.  They are the bird. This is gonna be too easy. He smirked as he thought the last part.

He knew that spell. Great as the bird was, it wasn't very easy to move. And its weak spot was the eye. If he stabbed that eye, it was goodbye Mage number two.

The violet beak opened, and a huge blast of fire and wind came out. He dodged and threw his sword like a javelin. It turned into one halfway there, but the bird dodged and fired again. The Demon merely gave a dark chuckle and deflected it with a shield.

With a wave of his hand, a dozen replicas of himself appeared around the arena. The spun and avoided fiery blasts until the bird could no longer tell them apart.

They all abruptly halted and threw an invisible javelin, which manifested just as their hands left it. The bird tried to dodge. It couldn't dodge all of them, though. One slashed its side, and another cut its head. It gave a screech of pain and anger, blurring the replicas until they dissolved. Its wounds healed, and it shot a boiling geyser of water at the real Demon.

The Demon took the blast. He seemed to melt, and the enormous bird stopped short. Its eyes were not the best, so the Mages decided to release the spell and check the rocks.

The Demon had been waiting for this. It wouldn’t be able to move in the middle of deactivation. The arena rained with the black blood of Demons, turning into various weapons; swords, daggers, javelins, every weapon imaginable. It injured the great bird with slashes that bled like rivers, and one weapon lodged firmly in its eye. It screamed in pain, and then dissolved. Four girls stood, panting. The Water Mage lay dead, a javelin protruding from her chest. Water gushed from her body, filling the bottom of the arena in the slippery stuff. It seemed to affect the Demon, but not the Mages. He did his best to ignore it.

Wasting no time, the Demon drew another blade and sped for the Fire Mage.

“YOU WILL PAY!” She screamed, raising her leg and attempting to bring her foot down on his head. With most fighters, strong emotions would make fighting sloppy. However, to most Fire Wielders, their element represented passion, and passion made them stronger. Her anger oozed out of her, her grief making her cry as she rushed the Demon.

She leapt, reaching her foot up. The Demon tried to cut her leg off or dodge, whichever came first, but neither worked. He crumpled as her foot came down with so much force it would have cracked any human’s skull.

The Wind Mage rushed him, and the Fire Mage got out of the way. She slashed at his torso, his legs, his face, everywhere with her razor sharp fans, trying to find his weak spot. The Dark Mage used a complex spell, even for the Circle, which took his sight away. She couldn’t do much else besides meditate sweatily on the ground, trying to keep her spell up. The Water Mage guarded her, nearly crying. Normally, this was the Light Mage’s job.

The Fire and Wind Mages went to switch out so the former could take a turn trying to find its weak point. The Demon, having pinpointed the Wind Mage, made a stab at her stomach, nearly slipping in the water. However, the Fire Mage was in her place by now, and she received the sword through the stomach instead. She crumpled, splashing in the water. Flames exploded from her body, burning the Demon before becoming a hovering disc over the arena, taking over the role of light source from the setting suns.

Suddenly, the Light Mage's eyes began  glowing. The Wind, Earth, and Dark  Mages looked at her decapitated head in wonder.

She had a prophesy to deliver.

The distraction nearly cost the Wind Mage her life. Huge spikes of pure darkness erupted from under her, and she jumped, the air supporting her as if she were walking on solid ground. The Earth Mage, sensing something on her turf and being within arm’s reach of the Dark Mage, the former grabbed the latter and leapt.

The Dark Mage made them each a hovering disc. They circled the Demon on there, floating safely above the spikes.

The Earth Mage catapulted a rock the size of a horse at the Demon. He merely held out his hand against it, and it exploded when it touched his palm. The Wind Mage was ready, right behind him, swinging her razor- sharp tourmaline fans at him. Although she didn’t hit him, wind came off the fans, blowing him back a bit.

The Dark Mage ran forward, kicking him in the side, and he flew in the direction of the Earth Mage. The plan was to have her incapacitate him, and they could behead him to at least down him for a while, on the off but substantial chance he would recover from it.  

He moved with the momentum of the kick, but disguised it as an uncontrollable beeline to the Earth Mage. She prepared moved her stance to one more more optimal to strike him down. In midair he spun, and too late, the Earth Mage realized that he had a blade- like strip of darkness extending from his arm. He slashed it, and it sliced her in half at the waist.

The Wind Mage watched her crumple onto the watery spikes in horror. As she touched the ground, an earthquake shook the arena. It shook off the spikes, and threw the Demon off balance. She could do nothing but stand in shock.

The Dark Mage, however, took advantage of his lack of balance. She shot at him on her disc, slashing at him. He managed to parry her claws with his sword, slightly off balance.She tried to get around him. Something in the way he always defended his back… she knew that if she struck it just right, it would be over.

He pushed her back and tried to make it over to the shell-shocked violet haired girl. He barely made it a foot before the black haired girl kicked him in the back. He flew forward several feet, but was otherwise unharmed. Not there.  She thought. If that was his Weak Spot, it would have frozen him in pain.

With a growl, he whirled on her. She sped back enough that she wouldn’t be a threat anymore, and he would continue to the now thawed Wind Mage, who was in on her plan.

She hung back for a minute, and when the Demon got close to the Wind Mage and tried to strike, she flung herself forward as the Wind Mage blew him back. The Dark Mage sped at his back on her disc, tekko kagi claws at the ready. He merely turned at a leisurely pace. She tried to stop, but it was too late. He swung what looked like a giant club at her head. It connected with a sickening crack. She fell immediately, no breath escaping her lips.

“Damn.” The Demon said as the spikes retracted. “I was hoping candy would come out.”

The Wind Mage continued their plan through her tears. The next part of the plan didn’t involve her. She could do this. She came at the Demon from above, slashing at his back with her tessens.

He predicted it from a mile away. He sent out tendrils of darkness that wrapped around the air bubble which encapsulated her. It passed the wall of wind, wrapping around her lithe body instead. He squeezed tighter, tighter, until her body could no longer take the pressure. He didn’t even look at her; it would just be gross.

He turned to leave, masking his presence as he prepared to overtake the capital city, when a giant blue bird landed.

In her subconscious state, the Light Mage recognised only the safe presence of the bird, which was the King’s familiar. She did not sense the Demon and therefore felt it safe to relinquish the prophecy.

“Guard this prophecy, oh trusted one.” She said in an old, wise voice that was not her own. “It is out world’s last hope.”

The demon froze in his tracks to listen.

“Find the spirits of Yin and Yang,

For only then can you hear the creature's song.

Raised in a village of black and white,

Both with desire to do what's right.

Then find the spirit of flame and fire,

And take down its blood- red empire.

In city that is always aflame,

Gain their help by knowing their name.

Glittering blue is what you must find,

This spirit is the last of its once-great kind.

In a long lost city under the waves,

The way to the surface it must pave.

Find the spirit of wind in a city high above the ground,

Where terror and confusion run unbound.

In a city that cannot be found by a hunt,

This disorder you must help to confront.

This spirit communicates only through stone,

Paying no heed to to grave nor bone.

The hideaway miles below the earth,

Was the only thing that saw her birth.

Fear the storms

Fear the sky

A long dormant power now is nigh.

Not even I yet know its goal,

Nor what role

This power shall play.”

And with that, the Light Mage's eyes died. The bird flew away just as the Demon whirled around to kill it, hoping no one would know the prophecy. But as he watched it fly away, he decided to let it. He even smirked.

He'd already won. He'd won for Rhieashinn.

And the Circle of Six Mages would never come again.

Hello, all! Yeah, It’s been a while :T Sorry

Anyway, I revised this again, and I have quite a few chapters sitting in my docs, so I think I’m gonna try my hand at weekly Saturday updates! 

If you have questions about the story, the characters, or the world, please send them to my main blog, @fabnamessuggestedbytumbler !

First- Prologue- You are here!

Last 

Next- Chapter One- Aplla Village

[albatrossmuffin]

Free! Novelize Chapter 6: It’s Meaningless Without You

I cannot impart to you the miracle that happened for me to get this to you. It’s actually been ready for a couple weeks, but I haven’t had the time to type it up. SO before we begin, a couple notes:

-I apologize for the blatant irreverence for verb tense; it switches from present to past and back again. So I tried to leave it as similar as possible so it can drive all of you crazy too I apologize for that in advance.

-Also again with the spacing, practically everything has its own paragraph in the book.

-‘Dice Talk’ is literally what the phonetic vocabulary word is for the dice game in the chapter.

-There are a couple lines it is a bit hard to tell who is talking without seeing their speech pattern, so I added the first letter of their name in a bracket after the line just as an aid.

-And finally, the Japanese language frequently doesn’t believe in periods, causing a lot of run on sentences. I adjusted accordingly, but if anything seems overly long, that’s why.

Now then:

Chapter 6: It’s Meaningless Without You

~Haru’s Point of View~

It’s meaningless without you.

This is the second time I’ve heard Makoto say those words.

The first time was when we were in elementary school. The first time was when Makoto had invited me to swim in the relay together with Rin.

Without Haru…it’s meaningless without you!

I want to swim together with you—! 

Makoto is my childhood friend; he’s a natural existence that’s always been by my side since long ago. Therefore, for me, I’ve never formally thought ‘It’s meaningless without Makoto.’ And in the first place I only swim free. So even if I swam in a relay, there was no reason I had to swim together with Makoto. Of course, there was no reason I had to swim with Rin either. You’re always alone in the water. It’s irrelevant that you’re swimming together with someone. So the first time he had said “it’s meaningless without you,” I was a bit bewildered. In an instant I couldn’t understand how I should take Makoto’s words, how I should accept them. 

When we were in elementary school, I had stared fixedly at Makoto’s face without saying anything. In a time-sense it had probably just been an instant. But for Makoto that instant had probably felt like forever. He soon became flustered, and said “Sorry for saying something weird,” with a smile. At that time, I probably should have properly returned Makoto’s words. I shouldn’t have spoiled myself thinking that Makoto would understand me even if I didn’t say anything.

And now, after over 3 years of time has passed, I hear those words from Makoto’s lips yet again. The night of the training camp. The storm on the deserted island. Makoto was swallowed by a wave trying to save Rei, who was drowning in the night sea due to the sudden weather change. It had forcibly resurrected the ocean-related trauma Makoto had experienced when he was young.

I dove into the raging sea and rescued Makoto, who was sinking. Nagisa was saving Rei but I lost sight of them in the storm. Believing that the two of them were safe, I somehow pulled Makoto to a nearby small uninhabited island.

The rain pelted the beach as Makoto lay there, his breathing weak. I became absorbed in the task of trying to get air into Makoto’s lungs. I secured the airway, and brought my lips close to Makoto’s perilously open mouth.

But, before I could give him air, Makoto coughed sharply and regained consciousness. 

Fleeing the storm that ravaged the deserted island in the middle of the night, Makoto and I rested under the shade of a rock. Even though time had passed since we had come out of the sea, because of the slanting rain we were unable to dry, and remained soaked. I understood that our body heat was gradually being stolen away. In the first place, why had Makoto agreed that the destination of the training camp be the ocean? We could’ve probably had it in a place other than the ocean. Makoto has long held onto the trauma of losing the old fisherman he was close to when he was young in an accident at sea, deep in the bottom of his heart. So, why—?

Under the shadow of a rock on a deserted island, and in the middle of a storm that showed no sign of letting up; although it was almost drowned out by the sound of the wind and the devastating rain, that moment was when Makoto said those words for the second time. Those words, the same as when we were in elementary school.

Because I want to swim together with you again.

I want to swim a relay with you again.

Without Haru…it’s meaningless without you.

*******

“What’s wrong, Haru-chan?” Nagisa said worriedly as he peered into my spaced-out expression.

“Nothing…” I am looking out a window. The storm outside is already settling down.

We met up with Nagisa and Rei; when we took refuge in this abandoned rest house the storm had still been raging, but after we had searched for food and drink together and dried off our soaked bodies, Nagisa had suggested, “Why don’t we play Dice Talk?” as if to blow the heavy, dispirited air away. And while we were talking of silly things, the storm passed on. Makoto also regained his composure, and told Nagisa and Rei about his personal trauma. After we went outside, we were bathed in a sky full of stars, spread out before us after the storm. After that, we decided to go back in the rest house and wait for dawn.

It was at that moment.

In my head, I once again recalled Makoto’s words from before. It’s meaningless without you—

In the end, this time (now the second time), I couldn’t properly give Makoto a reply.

As I happen to look at Makoto, he appears to have already completely calmed down, and with an unopened instant coffee he found somewhere in hand, he asks me, “Do you want some?” with a smile.

The danger of this incident has also passed; all that remains is this time while we wait for dawn. Drinking coffee is all well and good, but now we should probably sleep, even just for a little while.

At that moment Nagisa spoke in a cheery voice, his eyes sparkling. “Hey hey, since we’re here, why don’t we play that game again until morning? Dice Talk Part 2!”

Nagisa has endless energy.

He means an invented game where we roll a dice that our names are written on, and the person whose name it lands on has to reveal something like an embarrassing experience or a love story. On this dice that was made in an impromptu fashion, Rei’s name is written three times, while Nagisa, Makoto, and my name are written one time each. 

“I have nothing else to say; I already spoke in abundance the last game…” [R]

“Well, probability-wise your odds were 2 to 1.” [M]

“This time, I want to hear all of your stories. Therefore, I am proposing new rules.”   

“What kind of rules?”

“The person whose name comes up when the dice is thrown says a topic they like. Then, based on that topic, everyone will talk in turns. This way it’s fair, and I can get to know more and more about everyone.” 

“I think that’d be good! Since we only heard your stories before, I was about to get sick of the game.”

“Nagisa-kun, how horrible! Weren’t you the one who made the dice in the first place?!”

“Eh?? But I just wanted to learn lots of things about you!”

It’s times like this where Nagisa is a little devil. Rei opposes his devilishness with a serious expression.

“I feel the same. I want to know more about everyone.” 

“Well then, why don’t we give it a try with Rei’s rules? I also want to hear everyone’s stories,” Makoto says, mediating between the two. “We haven’t met with you for these 3 years, Nagisa, and…” Makoto looks in my direction with a fleeting glance.

“I’ve always been together with Haru, but the idea that I can hear stories I don’t know yet, it would feel like a new and interesting discovery.”

“Well then, it’s decided. Here goes!” Rei threw the dice, and ‘Dice Talk Part 2’ began little by little. 

It rolls across the floor, and the first one to appear on top is ‘Rei.’ 

“Fine with me. I will propose a topic. Yes, first is…” 

After a little build-up, Rei forcefully pushed his glasses up with a finger and said:

“Do you eat the strawberry on top of a shortcake first, or save it for later? How about that??”

For that build-up it’s a pretty common question.

“Whaat, Rei-chan, you’re fine with that??”

“At first I’ll start with a light jab. Nagisa-kun, please go first.”

“I’m definitely on the side of eating it first, you know? Because after all, your favorite food should be the very first. Don’t you want to eat it when you’re hungry and you’re in high spirits? And listen. If I cherished it, when I’d be like ‘Yes, let’s eat it!’ my older sister would probably steal it from next to me.”

“I see. I thought that you would most likely eat it first. But for it not to be simply because of your desires, and for you to have such a theory…” 

“Nagisa has three sisters, after all,” Makoto says with a smile, and I supplement with an idiom.

“The weak are meat the strong do eat.”**

“Yes yes! ‘The weak are strawberries that the strong eat,’ is that the one?”

“That’s not an idiom. Next, Makoto-senpai, please answer!”

“I’m…well…”

“Ha! Mako-chan, it can’t be that you snatch the strawberries away from Ran-chan and Ren-chan like my sisters?!” Nagisa says jokingly.

“There’s no way that Makoto-senpai would do that,” Rei interjects without hesitation.

“Right! No matter which, Mako-chan is probably the one being stolen from.”

“Haha, Ran and Ren both love strawberries…but when I’m eating alone, I’m probably the opposite of Nagisa. I save the best for last. I make myself be patient, be patient…imagining the other times I’ve eaten it, the taste, the texture, the smell, getting more and more excited—! But, I still have to wait. When I get to the point of, ‘Ah~, I can’t take this anymore!’ I take the first bite…that’s about the gist of it?”

“How stoic…”

“That sounds painful~” 

“Makoto is the type to push himself.” In place of Makoto I jump in again.

“Which type are you, Haru-chan?”

“Either way works for me. I don’t really like or hate strawberries.”

“Okay then, what if it was mackerel?” [R]

“Ooh, mackerel shortcake!” [N]

“We’re not talking of such a fishy smelling cake! I’m talking about a normal meal set with mackerel grilled with salt, served with dried daikon, hijiki,** miso soup, rice, and pickled vegetables. In this situation, please consider which you’d eat first.”

“It depends on my mood that day.”

“Well, that makes sense for Haru…” 

It’s just as Makoto says. What I eat first changes with my mood that day. I just decide about that time at that time. I don’t like to be tied down by something. I always want to be free— 

As soon as I thought that, I suddenly realized something. 

I only swim free. As I say that, I am imposing being free on myself. Is that really being free? Compulsory freedom. The impairment of being free. What is really being free—? 

As if to save me, who had gone completely silent and lost in thought, Makoto asked Rei, “What about you Rei?” 

“Rather than think about whether to eat my favorite food first or not, I am on the side of always thinking about beauty as I eat. If I eat the strawberry first, then there’d only be cream left on top of the shortcake. I like to leave the attractive red of the strawberry resting on the pure white of the cream for the very end. However, as one is in the middle of eating the sponge, it loses its beauty. So that is where the theory of how to eat shortcake comes in.”

“There’s such a theory?”

“It is a theory I’ve created. While cutting the sponge, cream, and strawberry cleanly a little bit at a time, you can eat it beautifully while preserving an exquisite balance to the very end—!” 

“Is eating it that way really delicious?” Nagisa expresses his frank doubt, but Rei, unperturbed, clearly states:

“Being beautiful is the first priority!”

  After that Dice Talk continued. Probability-wise, there are more times when Rei asks questions.

“What is your first memory that you can remember even now?”

“What are your words to live by?” 

“If the Earth were going to be destroyed in one week, what would you do?”

“When you take a bath, where do you wash first?”

These are Rei’s “jabs,” as he called it. These typical questions are thrown out one after the other.

My first memory is water. The memory of the water I was soaked in for my first bath. I’ve told this to both my family and my classmates, but they replied ‘There’s no way you’d be able to have that memory.’ No one except for Makoto would believe me. However, I certainly still have that memory. The memory of up until that point I would cry fiercely, but as soon as I was soaked in the water, I was wrapped in a strange sense of security. So I suddenly stopped crying.

And of course, my words to live by are ‘I only swim free.’ I’ll leave it at that.

As for how I’d live my final week if the world would be destroyed, I wouldn’t do anything special. I’d live my life as usual, and at the end I’d like to welcome it from in the water. That’s it.

When I’m going in the bath, the first place I wash is of course, the bath tub. If I don’t wash the bath tub first, I can’t relax and soak in the water. That’s something even inside myself I absolutely won’t yield on.

“No not that, Haruka-senpai. I meant where on your body do you wash first…”

“Why would you ask that, Rei.”

“The first place you wash in the bath. This is supposed to reveal desires or aspects of one’s personality that are hidden.”

“No, Rei-chan! You can’t forcibly expose something Haru-chan is hiding!”

“No, I didn’t mean to force anything, I simply wanted to look from a psychological viewpoint—”

“Sure sure, Rei-chan. Don’t worry about that. Next, let’s go!”

Prompted by Nagisa, Rei reluctantly rolls the dice again. This time, the side with ‘Nagisa’ on it was revealed.

“Ooh, it’s finally me! It’s my turn to ask a question! Well then…”

Nagisa thinks for a moment, then looks around at everyone, saying “How about this: What is a dream you’ve had recently that’s been funny, scary, mysterious, or left an impression on you?”

“If you look at that question from a psychological perspective, couldn’t you deduce hidden desires as well?!”

“Really? Well, it’s fine isn’t it? Rei-chan, what’s a dream you’ve had recently?”

“I…hmm. It’ll have to be the dream where I can fly. I think it’s because I’ve always done pole vaulting, but even now I’ve had the dream where I can fly pretty often. But the dream I had a few days ago was best among all the dreams I’ve had about flying. In the dream, I was then thousand meters up in the sky, above a sea of clouds so I flew like I was swimming. By the way, from a psychological standpoint, a dream about flying conveys the meanings of an admiration of freedom and liberation.”

“Ooh Rei-chan, then you just keep being freed! Soo can you tell what my dream means then?!”

“Fine with me. Please tell me, and I will analyze it.”

“Let’s see…In the dream I had recently, I was playing with a penguin in the Antarctic, when this giant strawberry-shaped spaceship came from the sky and attacked. Then, to save the penguin they kidnapped I tried to transform and fight them but no matter how many times I tried, I couldn’t transform! In the end I transformed into straight-from-the-pot udon noodles, but I couldn’t change back and I was covered in egg and eaten by a polar bear. But inside the polar bear’s stomach, I reunited with Rei-chan, who had grown a beard.”

“I don’t understand…”

“What? Even though I told you all that? Won’t you interpret my dream?”

“It is so theoretically illogical that it is impossible to interpret. More importantly, why do I show up in your dream inside the polar bear’s stomach with a beard?!”

“Not just a beard, but you were wearing a Santa hat too. Although you were wearing a suit and tie…”

“I am understanding it less and less!”

“Tch. Well, Haru-chan what dream have you had recently?”

“I don’t remember. Even when I have a dream I usually forget it quickly.”

“Wow, really? Then how about Mako-chan?”

“Me? Well, I…”

Makoto’s expression clouded for an instant. Did he remember having some kind of bad dream?

However, that expression soon disappears as he glosses over it saying, “I’m the same as Haru. I don’t really remember any dreams I’ve had recently…” He finishes with a smile. 

On the next roll of the dice, ‘Makoto’ was the name that it stopped on. 

“This time it’s my turn to ask a question? Well then…” 

After thinking for a moment, he asked this question:

“How about this: What are you most afraid of? I mean, I just told you guys about my fear of the ocean, so I’d kind of like to hear about what everyone’s afraid of…”

Nagisa raises his hand to answer first. “Okay! For me, I’m afraid of my older sisters. Especially the oldest. Usually out of the three, she’s the nicest, but if you make her mad…” As if he was telling a ghost story, Nagisa suddenly raises the tone of his voice.

As if he’s a little scared, Rei asks with a serious expression, “What happens if you make her mad?”

Nagisa answers as if he’s full-on telling a ghost story, “Do you want to hear?” He said it as if once you’d heard it, you’d never be able to go back.

“…No, let’s leave it at that. When I consider that whenever I hang out with you at your house, I’ll probably meet your sister, I feel that not knowing is probably more prudent.”

“Oh, as expected of Rei-chan! Then I’ll just end my story at that!”

Nagisa tried to end the story on a forcedly bright note, but stopping in the middle like that and not hearing the end heavily weighs on one’s mind. However, it seems that Makoto didn’t want to pry any further than that.

“Haru, what are you afraid of?” He cast it over to me. “What thing are you most afraid of? It doesn’t have to be a thing; it can be a concept.” 

A thing I’m afraid of, a concept I’m afraid of—

I work through my memories, thinking about it. 

At that moment, suddenly, the sight of Makoto drowning flashed through my mind. 

I see—. 

I realized. I felt as if an emotion I’ve not been able to put into words had finally become concrete for the first time. What I had felt at that time had been fear.

Makoto’s weak breathing as he lay out on the beach. The fear that I would probably lose Makoto like this. The fear that the existence that had been so natural to me up until that time would suddenly disappear—

“What’s wrong, Haru-chan?”

“Nothing…” I answer, but it seems I couldn’t hide my turmoil.

Makoto looks at me with worry. “Haru?”

I’m at a loss for words, but I answered quickly to gloss over it. “I…I’m afraid of water completely disappearing from this world. That’s it.”

   After that we continued Dice Talk for a while longer, but before long everyone became sleepy, and our senses became hazy. Nagisa dozes off first, and next Rei tiredly takes off his glasses. Before I knew it I also became sleepy, and I had a dream.

In the dream, I am floating on my back, slowly bobbing in the middle of the open sea. There isn’t a cloud in the sky, and there’s no wind. There’s not a single wave, and the smooth clear sea extends out as far as I can see with no land in sight. As I entrust my body to the drifting ocean water, I suddenly see something to the side of me. I see a toy orca floating there, bobbing and swaying. I’m not sure why, but I thought strongly that the toy was Makoto’s. However, I can’t see Makoto anywhere. Only the toy orca who had lost its owner is floating amongst the waves. Where is Makoto? Where did he go? I fall into a panic in an instant. The fear that the one who is naturally by my side has disappeared. In the dream that feeling of fear alone multiplies and is magnified, until I couldn’t bear it anymore and cried out:

Makoto! Where are you, Makoto!

In the middle of the calm sea that stretches on without end, I continue to desperately call out Makoto’s name.

Makoto—!

When I opened my eyes, the inside of the abandoned rest house had gotten slightly brighter. Outside of the window, the dawn had started to break.

Rei and Nagisa sleep very close to each other, letting out tiny even breaths in their sleep.

However, Makoto is not next to me.

“Makoto…?”

I snap awake at once. It couldn’t be that he really—?

I leave Nagisa and Rei asleep and I break into a run towards the outside.

Makoto stood on the beach in front of the rest house. 

Amidst the rising sun, he looks back at me. 

The quiet sound of the waves.

Makoto’s hair fluttered gently in the breeze from the ocean.

Seeing me flustered as I hurried out of the building, Makoto asked in confusion, “What’s wrong, Haru?”

I was a little embarrassed for having lost my composure; I turn away abruptly, saying “Nothing. When I woke up and saw you weren’t there, I was just a little worried…”

“Sorry, sorry!” Makoto says with a smile. “It turns out I couldn’t sleep, so I came out to feel the wind.”

“That’s fine then…” I murmur in answer.

 I’m thinking about properly talking to Makoto. About his earlier question. About what I’m afraid of. To talk about what I fear the most.

My greatest fear. It’s the fear of suddenly losing an existence that has been so naturally there. I thought that this answer will probably be a reply to those words: It’s meaningless without you! This feeling that until now I hadn’t been able to form into concrete words inside myself.

However, if I do it now, I feel like I’ll be able to properly put it into words.

Makoto. I—

“What is it, Haru?”

“I—”

I started to say it, but in the end I’m at a loss for words.

Formally putting something like that into words is embarrassing.

“No, it’s…”

Seeing me stammer like that, Makoto smiled.

Seeing that I thought, Ah, that’s right, reconsidering. Makoto sees through my heart.

Seeing Makoto’s smiling expression, I murmur to myself, as if relieved, “It’s nothing. Thank you, Makoto…”

Makoto understands me even if I don’t say anything.

Again, I’ve been spoiled by Makoto’s feelings.

------------------------

Several more notes:

-I’ll repeat my note about Makoto’s ‘perilously open’ mouth from before: The original word is insinuating that Makoto’s mouth is open because his life is in danger.

**The best translation for the idiom used is “The law of the jungle,” but as that didn’t fit with Nagisa’s next line I went with the other translation of it.

**This is daikon, and this is hijiki. To translate them literally would’ve ruined the flow of the dialogue, so I left them alone.

Finally, Makoto is hinting that he had a dream we should know about, and happily parts of it have been translated from the prologue here and here.

Now if anyone needs me, I’ll be screaming into the void because formally putting something like that into words is embarrassing.

I hope you enjoyed!

[fabnamessuggestedbytumbler]

Prologue: 1000 Years Ago

The carriage bumped along, carrying six happily chatting girls and one miserable driver. It was no wonder that his mood was like this; it had been raining for over an hour now. Since about five minutes after the girls reboarded the carriage.

They had been on a mission delivered straight from the High King of Rashiviio, and he was their transportation. When they climbed in the carriage, as if by magic, it began pouring.

He sighed and decided to take a nap. The horses knew their way back to Ranseed Palace. He could only sleep for five minutes, but he couldn't stay awake, either; his eyes were drooping down.

He woke to startled whinnying. He noticed with dismay that it was no longer raining. He must've slept longer than he wanted to.

One of the horses whinnied again, snapping him out of his thoughts. He wasn't worried. They spooked at everything. A rabbit had probably ran across their path. He opened his eyes, preparing to calm the horses down.

And immediately let out the scream of a five-year-old girl.

Standing in front of him was a 10ft tall A-Class Scorpion Type Demon.

“Mr. Driver? Are you alright?” Came a concerned voice from the carriage.

“Hello.” The Demon said as if it were trying to appear amiable. However, evil leaked through its voice, and its true intentions were crystal clear to the driver.

They were in a clearing in the woods. He recognized this part of the woods; it was about a mile away from the bridge over the Great Divide, which separated the town where the High King’s palace stood and the Kingdom of Earth, from which all Earth Mages hailed.

“Mr. Driver?” Came another voice. They had probably sensed the Demon’s presence, and were trying to make sure he was alright.

He finally found his voice. “HELP!” He screamed. “PLEASE HELP ME!”

The Demon pouted. At least, that's what it looked like to the driver. It was really just a giant black blob in the shape of a scorpion.

“Here I was gonna tell you why I didn't kill you while you slept. You still wanna know?” It asked.

Inside the carriage, there was rustling. Probably the girls grabbing their swords and usual fighting staffs.

The driver could only stare at the Demon with an almost comically scared face and skin paler than that of a ghost. It was all he could do not to pee his pants.

The Demon cocked his head. “If you don't answer, I'm gonna kill you.” He said impatiently.

Then came a series of knocks on the wood behind him. He recognized it as Hemres Code, a phonetic code invented thousands of years ago that most humans still knew and used. He realized they were relying on him being one of the many who did.

Keep him distracted. They said. We’ve got a plan.

The driver’s first thought was how am I supposed to do that?!

Then he kept thinking. These girls stare death in the face on an almost daily basis. If they can do that, I can distract it, right? It can't be that hard. I mean, this one seems to like talking.

He looked up at the Demon and said, “Sure. Why didn't you kill me?”

The Demon seemed to smile. “Well, first of all, may I say that you look adorable when you’re sleeping?! And second of all-” here, the Demon’s smile became malicious- “I never make my kill while their eyes are closed. If I do that, I can't watch the light leave their eyes! And that’s the best part about killing.” He looked at the driver. “Speaking of which-” he poised his tail to kill the driver-

And a blue blur whizzed by the tail, taking the tail with it. A blue-haired girl appeared about five feet away from the Demon, crouching, her sword poised at her side from the follow-through of her swing. The Demon’s tail thumped in the grass next to her.

Two crimson daggers flew out of the woods to the driver’s left, bouncing off of the Demon’s tough armor.

Seconds later, five mages jumped down in a circle around him, with the blue-haired girl completing it. Red, brown, purple, white, and black haired fluttered in the air as the girls landed and straightened.

The Demon seemed to smirk. “Nice try, for girls anyway. However, only Element Blades can pierce my armor. And you can only receive them from the Gods and Goddesses of your respective element.” He whirled around to face the girl with blue hair. “Which this one seems to have, meaning…

I have to kill you first.”

In response, the girls each drew a blade that matched their hair. The Demon stopped short. If he could have, he would've paled.

They all had Element Blades.

Element Blades were swords made purely from a Mage’s Element. One had to receive them from the patron God or Goddess of their Element. For example, a Fire Mage had to prove herself to the Fire Goddess, Meeria, in order to receive such a sword.

The girl with white hair smiled sunnily. “Yes, of course we do!” She frowned innocently. “You do know who we are, right?”

The Demon just about died of a heart attack. These were not just any Mages. These were not just a random group of six Mages. This was the group of six Mages. The Circle of Six Mages.

A quiet voice spoke behind him. “We have these, too.” It said. He whirled to ask what she meant and was met by a purple Element Dagger in his chest. He began to crumble and fade, turning into a pile of black rocks, at the top of which a glittering black stone rested, glittering in the setting sun.

The girl with black hair stepped forward and grabbed it. She smiled softly. “Another Onyx, almost as good as the one from that SSS class monstrosity.” She said, slipping it in her cloak pocket before drawing the hood.

The driver just sat, clutching the reins, appearing as though he were in a permanent state of shock. The horses had long since run off.

A very demonic screech sounded in the direction of the Divide. Then another, and another. Screeches came every few seconds.

The Circle looked at each other warily. It sounded like there were a lot of Demons.

The purple haired girl stepped up shyly. She waved her hand. “Here.” She said, and a ball of wind surrounded the carriage, picking up dust and leaves and other debris. “This'll take you home. You can use the reins to control it, just like the horses. Go ahead, we’ll be back at the palace soon, and stop by the stables to tell you we’re alright.”

Her voice was quiet, and very, very shy.

The driver merely nodded, and snapped the reins as if there really were horses in front of it. Soon he was riding away at top speed.

The girls gave each other a grim look, and took off through the woods. There couldn't be that many, or they would've been seen by people traveling by. It was a busy road, after all. Even if they'd hidden in the divide, they would've been seen by people crossing it barely a mile away.

The Mages raced through the woods, combing the area for any trace of demonic energy.

About ten minutes later, they came to the Divide. They looked around. Nothing.

We must've imagined it. Thought the blue-haired girl, tucking a shoulder length strand of hair behind her ear.

“There are no demons here, and it sounds like one is no more than fifty yards away.” The black-haired girl said, deep in thought.

As if to answer her, another screech sounded, this one even closer. And suddenly, at the bottom of the canyon, a cat type demon shimmered into sight. It looked straight at them and yowled again.

The blue-haired girl’s face contorted in confusion.”But how did it conceal itself from us? I've never seen this!”

“If you can shut up from your no-knowledge-breakdown, four eyes, she has an idea.” Said the redhead, pointing to the girl with white hair. She was chewing on her lip thoughtfully.

The girl with blue hair glared at the redhead, shoved her glasses up her nose, and nodded for the white- haired girl to continue.

“Well,” she began, smiling, “back in the Kingdom of Light, we would use a type of barrier to keep the smaller villages that were more prone to attack hidden. It was a Dome-Type that kept everything under it invisible. The only catch was it didn't have any sort of repulsion, so if you stumbled under the Dome, you could see everything.”

The blue-haired girl, still looking a little wary, scrunched her eyebrows again. “Well, how do we hear that cat like it’s almost within arm’s reach? This canyon is over one thousand miles deep!”

The white-haired girl nodded. “My many-times great grandmother enchanted it, back during the reign of the Second High King. Basically, she made it so that sound in this area is all on a flat plain. Meaning, even though the demons are technically over a thousand miles away from us, on the magic plain, they're not even five feet away. That's also why we can see them so clearly from so far away. The King requested it as an early-warning system.”

The redhead sighed impatiently. “Great, that's great, we know why shit happens. Amazing. I don't care. Let's go kill it.”

“No!” The white-haired girl said. “There’s probably a reason the barrier was erected. We should scout it out from up here first.”

The girl with blue hair nodded,rubbing invisible dirt off of her glasses. “I agree. If someone was smart enough to erect the barrier-” she paused, breathed hot air on her glasses, and continued wiping and speaking- “they were trying to hide something.” She put her glasses back on. “We should find out what it is.”

The redhead looked like she wanted to jump down and clash head-on with the Cat Demon (which was giving itself a cat bath), but the girl with glasses merely glared at her and said sternly, “from up here.”

The redhead growled frustratedly, but the blue haired girl just rolled her eyes. “We need a plan.”

The whited haired girl, deep in thought again, said,”what if we picked them off from up here? The canyon is very deep; not even a SSS Class Demon could jump it. They'd have to climb, and we can kill them before they reach us.”

As she had talked, a smile had grown across the strategist's face. Pushing her glasses up her nose, she asked,”Can you do the invisibility dome spell?”

A smile equivalent to the strategist’s grew on her face. “Yup.”

“Let's do this then.”

And suddenly, all the Mage's eyes lit up, as if there had been some form of invisible communication. All of their eyes gleamed with determination as they began to execute their silently communicated plan.

The Water Mage raised her arms and drew one back, as if knocking an invisible arrow on an invisible bow. And then one shimmered into existence, quite literally because it was made of aquamarines that could've passed as water. The arrow she was knocking was made of wickedly pointed tip. She aimed it at the Cat Demon.

The Light  Mage drew her arm back, mimicking poising a spear for throwing. She opened her palm ard a light appeared over it, extending until it became one, made of a white, almost transparent quartz.

The Dark Mage held her arms by her side, extended about a foot. She opened her palms, and to small spheres devoid of light appeared, forming and reshaping until they made an onyx dual kusarigama, the chain pooling on the ground in front of her. She gripped the handles tightly.

The Wind Mage held her arms in an X in front of her. She opened her hands, and winds began gathering around her, beginning to glow violet. The winds died down, leaving her holding two amethyst chakrams, one in each hand.

The Earth Mage held her hand out in front of her, her fingers spread yet flat, but her index finger curled. A glowing boulder almost a foot wide fell out of nowhere. It landed in her palm and shattered so profoundly that all was left was dust and a dark brown slingshot in her palm, the ring around her finger, already loaded.

The Fire Mage, not seeming very happy about not being in blade-to-blade combat, held her arm behind her in a similar fashion to the Light Mage. Flames roared and sparked, but instead of a spear, she was left with a ruby-red atlatl.

This happened in perfect unison. Immediately after summoning her weapon, the Light Mage began glowing. A dome began to spring from her, resisting like an elastic band. Finally, it practically exploded, shooting out as far as they could see. What was left was an invisibility dome about ten feet high and ten feet in diameter. They could see through it as if nothing was there.

This all happened in less than ten seconds, for the girls knew they had to act quickly. And act quickly they did. As soon as the dome was in place, they simultaneously began their attack.

The Water Mage released her arrow, piercing the Cat Demon right in the butt, as it was chasing its tail. It gave a pained yowl and crumbled into a pile of red rocks, a ruby perching at the top. The blue haired girl pulled back the arrow string again, another arrow springing into existence with a small pop. She did this again and again, sometimes releasing the string so early that the arrows came into existence flying through the air as if they'd been on the bow since the beginning.

The Light Mage threw her spear. It crashed through five demons before burying itself halfway up the shaft on the opposite canyon wall. She drew her left hand back and threw nothing, but a spear sparked into existence about two feet from her. She repeated this process over and over, each spear killing five or six demons.

The Dark Mage threw one of the kusarigamas. The chain, which originally was only about five feet long, grew and stretched and then flew in a wide arc, taking out a couple of confused Demons. When it came back around, the Dark Mage caught it and threw the other.

The Wind Mage threw one of the chakrams like a frisbee, and one replaced it in her hand immediately. It cut through quite a few Demons before slicing through a canyon wall and disappearing. She threw the chakram in the other hand and continued this alternating pattern.

The Earth Mage spun the slingshot a couple times and released the rock. About three feet from the sling, it grew into a boulder almost five feet in diameter. It landed with a huge thunk and crushed a few Demons, tossing still others to the side.

The Fire Mage swung the atlatl with one hand like a whip. However, instead of a powerful string coming around, a dart whizzed from the long shaft. She raised and swung again and again, darts automatically reloading themselves.

As the projectiles began to exit the shield, most of them teleported to different parts of the canyon, so they rained down equally and randomly. This way, no Demon could follow the volleys and figure out where the Six were.

Stones of red, orange yellow, green, blue, violet, black and even brown crumbled from fallen Demons, perched with stones that matched the color of the stones: rubies, topazes, citrines, emeralds, sapphires, amethysts, onyxes, and pretty brown larkrakrovs. However, no white stones or gems appeared.

“You know, attacking from a place where no one can see you is rather rude. Shall we even go to the playing field a bit?”said an unfamiliar voice. Before the girls could even turn to see the speaker, they all had the sensation of being kicked in the stomach, but from behind, like something had gone through their spine to attack the lining of it. They all fell into the Divide.

The Wind Mage, thinking quickly, created an air bubble around the Six to slow their descent. Five minutes later, they landed softly and safely on the ground.

[fff777]

I went through a bunch of older Exo music to pad my music list. Here are just some thoughts.

Exo’s older music

Though the older music isn’t as catchy and full of personality compared to the new music, it does have merits. For starters, the Chinese versions have more lines for Lay, Xiumin, and even Tao!

Also, I mentioned this in a previous very brief post, but Lu Han was said to have very clear enunciation, and it’s true. It’s easy to understand the lines he’s singing without looking at the lyrics. I’m also pleasantly surprised that Tao was not bad in some of his singing lines. If only we had more music with him singing. Perhaps it’s time for me to check out KrisLuTao’s solo music. Back to old Exo music though, Lay was actually, like, a decent singer! It’s kind of a crime that he was shafted so much. 

Chinese pronunciation

With regards to the Chinese versions, I’ve noticed that Chanyeol and Suho’s Chinese pronunciation is pretty good. I don’t know if I’m biased because I like Chanyeol’s voice lol. As for Suho, in addition to okay pronunciation, he has the type of voice that’s more popular in Cpop (softer, less “power vocal” and more “sweet vocal”) so he could even sometimes pass for a Cpop singer. On the other end of the spectrum, the pronunciation that sticks out negatively for me is Sehun and Chen. Sehun just has awkward pronunciation, but I’ve seen that he seems to be one of the only members who’s tried to improve his Chinese over the years. As for Chen, I think I’m used to listening to his pronunciation in Exo-M’s older songs where he had a lot of lines, and of course, he was younger back then so probably didn’t have as much fine to refine his pronunciation. Most of the other guys sound like they’re pronouncing Chinese with Korean phonetics lol.

Exo’s newer songs

As for Exo’s newer songs, I love their funkier and especially the R&B sounding tracks. But the biggest down side is no Lay :(

Out of the main vocals, I think I prefer Chen or DO’s voices. Baekhyun has that type of voice I’d associate with Korean pop, but it’s just never been my style. I do also like Suho’s voice, but he kind of gets overshadowed because compared to the other three, his voice isn’t as robust. I don’t know if I’m just biased because I like him a lot, but I find his voice nice and sweet. I also REALLY LOVE Chanyeol’s voice. Full disclosure, the only reason I found Chanyeol hot was because of his fucking voice, and if he didn’t have that voice I wouldn’t give him so much slack lol. I wish he had more singing lines, but I guess there isn’t as much room for that in Exo songs. It’d be nice if he sang more in Exo-SC songs, which he does, but I think he’s not so confident with the higher notes, which is why they feature other artists often.

Solo and subunit music

I got into Exo through Lay and his music, so it’s no question that I like his solo music. There are hits and misses, but I love that he’s developed his own sound. In particular, the Lit album was got me into his music. I was at a period of my life where I was juggling my Western and Asian roots, and his music really spoke to me because he’d combined the sounds in a way that not many people do. (I did some thinking, and I think before Lay, I only really remember Jay Chou combining Chinese instruments with pop music) I went back through Lay’s previous albums which are more Western sounding, but there are still some sounds there that are undoubtedly Lay.

I have similar thoughts regarding Chen and Suho’s music so I’ll discuss them together. I’ve said this before, but Korean ballads just don’t hit the spot like Chinese ballads do. In addition, Chen and Suho’s voices seem to shine more in Exo songs. I wonder if it’s because they’re able to distinguish themselves from the other voices, whereas in their solo albums, they’re just by themselves, and don’t have enough tricks in the toolbox to wow us in the run time that we have. I’ve tried listening to their solo music, and while it isn’t bad, each album by itself doesn’t have a lot of variety. I’m struggling to decide whether to keep their music on my playlist because of how similar the music sounds to each other. Chen more so than Suho. Suho only has one mini album and it feels like there’s a bit more variety in his mini album with some more variety in instrumentals. But Chen has more music solo music so there’s more of that “sameness” feeling. That’s the biggest reason why I’ve yet to add their music on my music playlists. I need some more time to decide how I really feel about their music. I love their voices, but the music isn’t just hitting me, which is why I’m conflicted. I haven’t reached a verdict on these two yet lol.

I don’t care much for Baekhyun the idol, but his solo music is pretty nice. I quite like it. He has the power vocals to back up a more varied body of work.

Kai’s mini album was pretty good, pretty catch like Baekhyun’s solo work (after all, they both fall under R&B). However, I’ve never found Kai’s voice to be particularly aesthetically pleasing, and that persists in his mini album. I guess it’s a testament to the quality of music production, that I can dislike his voice but still enjoy the album.

Exo-CBX has some great funky music. Of course, Baekhyun and Chen have great vocals, but I’m frankly more excited about Xiumin getting more lines. Anyway, they have a lot of fun, upbeat music.

Exo-SC also some really good music. I don’t know what their kind of music would be called because I wouldn’t call it pop music but it’s also not R&B or hip hop. It’s more low-key than pop music, but not as soulful as R&B, and not as upbeat as hip hop. Anyway, I like what they’ve been doing. As I said, I really like Chanyeol’s voice, and I know he’s into music composition. I suppose he’s had an impact on their style of music. Even though I love Sehun as an idol, I’m not a fan of his music voice T_T I’m sorryyyy

Everybody’s been begging for a D.O. R&B solo album and we all know it would be FIRE. He doesn’t seem to have a lot of solo music, even random songs here and there like Suho did aside from his solo mini album. Perhaps he’s too busy filming most of the time. But considering the end to Kai’s Mmmh MV, I think everybody is holding out for something back after D.O. is discharged from the military.

On Xiumin’s recent Vlive, he said he’d work on a solo?!?!?!?! I didn’t watch the stream so I don’t now the full context of the conversation, but if he meant what he said, it would be great. I think he’d probably stick closer to pop and dance music, but it’d still be great. I’ve heard that Xiumin is one of the more popular members in South Korea, so I can imagine him getting a lot of support.

[joneswilliam72]

The 405 meets Jessica Pratt: "wherever dreams or your unconscious lie, all my music comes from there"

Even though we were scheduled to meet, it was still somewhat surprising to bump into Jessica Pratt in a Stoke Newington pub on a quickly darkening November evening. The California songwriter's music is so ethereal and ephemeral that it often seems like its creator could surely only exist under specific conditions, in short pockets of time, that only precipitate once every few years, during which she might produce another 30 minutes of delicately exquisite music and then disappear once more into the atmosphere.

Of course, Jessica Pratt is not a mythical being, even if her gorgeously unique recordings might conjure that impression. In conversation, Pratt proved to be a considerate and contemplative mind, speaking with the softness and openness redolent of her North Californian origins. Our discussion of Quiet Signs, her excellent new album for Mexican Summer, revolved mostly around the difficult and "bloody" process of its creation; two words you wouldn't at all associate with the spectral final product. This is where the cognitive dissonance rang most loudly; how could something that sounds as if it's musical condensation collected and concentrated on tape actually need a serious amount of time, effort and struggle to create?

Read on to my conversation with Jessica Pratt to fine out how she grappled with bringing Quiet Signs into the world.

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It's been 3 or 4 years since the last album, what are the big changes in your life and musical approach that we should know about going into Quiet Signs?

I don't know if there's anything incredibly specific as far as milestones, but I think one notable item is that I basically went on tour for a year playing the songs from the last record, and I think that playing that consistently night after night after night you learn a bit about how you sing and play, and you just naturally evolve. I feel like that definitely happened; I learned how to sing a little better or more effectively in certain instances. Anything you do that repetitively hopefully you get better at it, so I think there's a little bit of that at play.

It was interesting because there was this intense period [of playing shows] and then I just took a bunch of time off, it wasn't really planned it just sort of happened; I just couldn't do anything else, I just kind of had to stop. Then I sort of worried that my abilities had atrophied a bit, I felt very out of practice when I came back into trying to make music again. There was sort of a bit of an extended rehabilitation into feeling like I could really be in the zone consistently. Honestly, that took up the majority of the last year and a half at least, when I was making a concerted effort to make music again. I was pretty much just doing that like a full-time job.

I met my boyfriend Matt, who plays on the record and was a big emotionally-collaborative figure with the record. Music making has always been very private for me, but we definitely developed a really intuitive back and forth where I basically showed him any fragment that I thought was valuable and we would have a small dialogue about it. I wouldn't call it collaborative in the sense that he didn't write anything, but this is the first time that I've ever had anyone involved, first time I've even just had someone sharing an opinion before the finished product. We lived together at the time too, so it was a very fluid thing.

Do you have a regular practice, like a specific area or time when your write, or does it happen all over the place?

It's definitely home-based, I've never had an outside practice space or anything like that. Usually you find your places. The last record I just had my tiny bedroom, I did everything there. But I moved into my boyfriend's house, and it's a 3 bedroom place, it's not huge but there's definitely various rooms, and he works 9-5 pretty much, so I had a lot of time alone in the house and I would just go from space to space - and not every space feels good, there were certain rooms I never really went into.

Is it usually the case that you know what you want to sing about before you start writing the melodies?

It's a very unconscious process; it's like a weird divining thing where you just play the guitar and sing at the same time and at some point hopefully something gels. It feels a little bit like channelling something, there's never a preconceived idea.

Does it often surprise you what you end up singing about?

Maybe not the lyrical content; the words are always last, the shape of the words will be there but then I have to flesh them out with something literal later. But yeah I think melodies can be very surprising, you don't always know where they come from.

You actually recorded in a studio for Quiet Signs, how was that experience?

It was maybe scary at first; I initially began it on a trial basis because I was really unsure of how it was gonna go. I'm very used to recording at home, but I was having some technical issues, because I had rigged up this new setup involving a big tape machine that was really problematic. It was making me not want to work on music because I was afraid if I tried to record something it might get messed up.

Then I signed with Mexican Summer and they have this studio that artists can use, so I thought I might as well try it just because it's a good resource. Then very unexpectedly it worked out really well. It took a little bit of work to get the sound I wanted, but I was working with the engineer there Al Carlson, and he was very in-tune and really good at listening and then helping to develop the sound.

I guess not every song I brought in worked, and I think maybe it might not have been true if it was done like the last record, because cassette tape is very small and it's a forgiving world and you can do a lot within that, but at the same time there were things on a grander scale that might not have worked on smaller tape. It goes two ways.

In the notes for Quiet Signs it says you believe this is a more cohesive record than your previous, so what makes it feel that way for you?

I guess cohesive because it was the first time I'd ever begun writing songs with the idea of it being one object at the end. My last record there was a few scattered bits and pieces that were a few years old and a certain chunk that was written all in one blast. I think thematically [On Your Own Love Again] all makes sense together, sort of on accident. But this was the first time I had ever really known that everything I was working on was going to be part of a collection, so I sort of picked and chose based on that, so cohesive in that sense.

What are the themes that you see in Quiet Signs?

It might be too soon to say; it took me a long time to see those themes on the last record, and sometimes people pointed them out to me, which was interesting. I definitely see broader themes, for sure; it's more open and less guarded than the last record.

Yeah! There seems a lot more obvious emotion on the surface. I also hear a lot of escapist ideas.

That's interesting. I think I'm a big escapist. I'm trying to be less of one. It feels realer to me; the last one feels more like a dream imprint or something, and maybe had some more evasive lyrics on some level. I think I was just in a very different headspace [on Quiet Signs]; a more conscious headspace.

I also notice a lot of images to do with flight on the new album; birds, wings, aeroplanes...

Yeah, yeah, you're right. Again, not a conscious move. I think it just kind of happens like that, it naturally bubbles up. I don't know if you remember your dreams a lot, but you can go through certain phases where you have certain symbols that keep popping up, and maybe it's like your brain trying to process one particular idea or something, and I feel like it works in the same way with song imagery.

Is that what the title Quiet Signs refers to, these images popping up?

Quiet Signs is something that's half an intuitive phonetic thing and also a stand-in for some type of musical intuition; really listening to where things are coming from, sort of like the channelling thing that I was talking about a bit - it kind of relates to that experience, I still haven't quite figured out what it is.

The album starts with 'Opening Night', which was inspired by Gena Rowlands' performance in the John Cassavetes film of the same name, what was it about her that spoke to you?

That's again a bit of a loose, abstract grab. But at the very beginning, when I first writing songs for this record - there's a lot of theatres in LA that play old movies - and the Beverly Cinema was playing two Cassavettes movies. One was Opening Night, and I had just started seeing my boyfriend then and we went to see them; it's one of my favourite movies and I'd never seen it on the big screen.

Sometimes when you see a film, especially in a theatre, it'll stay with you for a while in your unconscious space, and it definitely did. I think whatever struggles you're currently going through, it's a pretty human thing to find yourself in a character or to relate to aspects of a character's experience, and there were definitely elements of that.

It's a really good film, but it's a very anguishing thing, and I feel like you should just watch it, but it's basically a person trying to muster a performance through this extreme personal hardship, and it's basically watching her unravel and then come back again. It's really intense and sort of this bloody battle - I know that sounds very melodramatic, but I think there were aspects of that that I related to in this period where I was trying to figure out how to feel comfortable writing again after taking so much time off.

You have quite a lot of moments in your songs where you sing wordlessly, and those are often the first bits that catch my ear, I find myself singing along to those parts first. Are you trying to convey emotion in those moments or is it purely melodic?

I think again it's just purely instinctual thing. I definitely grew up in a really musical household where people weren't necessarily playing instruments a ton, but there was a lot of singing and a lot of very confident singing all the time, just as a joke or just singing whatever comes into your mind. I feel like that comes naturally to me, and sometimes I want to vocally sing something that might be the equivalent of a horn line or something like that.

There's flute and few other instruments on this record that you haven't had before, did you have that intention before the studio?

No, I had no idea what was gonna happen. The studio thing was on a trial basis; Mexican Summer does free studio for artists on the label (and you pay the engineer fee), but that's an amazing resource, obviously. Al, the engineer, he's a multi-instrumentalist, but I had no idea we'd be working together in any capacity other than him being engineer, but it happened in a very natural way. Now I don't even really remember how it exactly all began.

He plays the flute on 'Fare Thee Well’?

That was one of the earlier songs we worked on, and I had this long outro that was really unusual for me, and I wasn't sure what I was gonna do with it. I thought maybe I would layer some things, and I think he was like "maybe we could try some flute," and I was like "alright..." I wasn't sure it was gonna work, but year I really really like what he played, this extended flute solo.

It's awesome! Lyrically, do you think your songs have narratives or are they kind of emotional movements?

I think that there's a narrative. It might not be a perfect story arc or anything like that, I think my lyrics have always been a bit impressionistic. But I prefer that, I think. Again, there's nothing preconceived, I never do anything super consciously, it doesn't work like that. Some of the songs on the last record have a bit more structure, as far as following a train of logic, but it doesn't feel necessary. There's just a core essence to the music that is there, and everything is just built to maintain that; I think that's the most important part. There's definitely meaning to all my lyrics, but I don't know if I'll ever write a song that's totally discernible from beginning to end.

How do you feel about explaining lyrics, or do you prefer to leave it to the listener?

That's a really good question. I really like hearing about other people's lyrics, but I'm also afraid about spelling things out too clearly for people, because maybe it limits their ability to interpret them freely. So, I sort of want to, but maybe don't want to.

OK, well, all I say is that I hard relate to the line in 'Here My Love' where you sing "try to keep my worries safe from where they'll do you harm," that one really gets me.

See that's a very literal lyric, they sneak in.

That's autobiographical?

For sure.

Are most of these autobiographical?

I'd have to think about it. I think in some shape or form, yes. This goes back to the stage actor playing a character that you're watching in a film; the emotion is there and real and based on something, but the form that it's presented in might not be a super straight-up literal thing; it might be put through a few lenses. I think sometimes that happens with my lyrics, where even perspectives will change or tenses will change, but it'll all be going toward the same general thing.

Do you ever think twice about some lyrics because they might be too honest?

I don't think my lyrics are ever so blatant that they take you out of it. I think generally, even the lyric that you pointed out, within the framework of the song it doesn't feel jarring or anything like that. But I do tend to avoid, just by instinct, anything that's too jarringly real in a way that isn't fun for me.

I have to ask about one more lyric, if I may, but it's the image "you're a songbird singing in the darkest hour of the night," is there a symbolism there?

Ooooh, it's very personal, and again I don't know if it's best to elucidate every bit of every song, but I think that sort of references singing to no-one, you know? Very alone.

'Crossing' isn't on my lyric sheet, and I can only really make out bits and pieces of words, was that purposeful?

'Crossing is actually a wordless song! The way that I write songs is always the same; it's melody and words that come at the same time, but it's generally phonetic structure of words. Sometimes I get lucky and some real words come in that feel good and work with the song, and I'll take those and work off them, but generally I'll write the structure of the song in full and the melody in full, and I'll just have all these weird dream puzzle-piece parts that I'll have to go through and systematically put words in.

But ['Crossing'] was just one that was very, very, very resistant to it. There are some real words in there, but it felt more than anything like a song from a dream, and I think because I was working very intensely on these songs for a year and a half, I was trying to do it like a day job, I would pretty frequently have dreams where I was playing a song, where I was hearing a song and then you wake up and you can't quite recall it. It felt so much like that to me, where the words are indistinguishable and the melody is just barely there when you wake up. I feel like that place is where all of my music comes from, wherever dreams or your unconscious lie, it all comes from there. It's very representational of something really important.

Interesting. It also sounds a little bit different, was it recorded differently?

I guess there are some slight production differences, it might be a little thicker than the rest of the record, because the rest of the songs are pretty straight-up. That one was just kind of like a weird slapping paint on a canvas, and even the piano in it is very choppy and pounding and maybe just a little bit cut-and-paste. It was the last song we recorded, so it was a real blow-out.

Did you always know that 'Aeroplane' would be the last song? It's such a perfect ending.

Yeah, it does feel like a perfect ending, but no I didn't. It's weird because that ending, the little coda, was just improvised in the studio, and I feel like that is what makes that song a good ending on the record. I didn't really have a super strong idea of the sequence until pretty far into it, but I'm happy it's the last song because it works really well.

What do you hope people feel when they get to the end of the record?

I guess I want people to feel whatever they naturally feel, but I hope that what I get from it makes sense to them. I feel like that last track, especially the last section, there's some desolation but there's also some hopefulness as well. I feel like it's really 50/50, and I feel like that's a good note to end on.

Very cool. Were you reading much around the time of writing and recording?

Yeah, I was trying to read a lot. I read George Saunders' Lincoln In The Bardo; I was reading that for the longest stretch while I was in the studio. I was there for three weeks in New York and it was really cold and snowing and it was the perfect headspace. I love George Saunders, and that just felt very appropriate. I also read James Baldwin's Another Country, which was amazing.

I read that Oliver Sacks book Musicophilia, but I think I stopped reading that right before the end because I was so frightened thinking about developing any of these weird neural problems where you hear music involuntarily, it was starting to trip me out, thinking about the way that your brain processes sounds. Some of his patients have auditory hallucinations they can't control, especially when it's looping songs like national songs or children’s songs, things they heard when they were a kid that are super-ingrained that aren't necessarily the most pleasant to listen to. I think about that a lot, how long that stuff stays in your head, and when it comes out. That's a really interesting thing to me.

from The 405 http://bit.ly/2StjrEM

[learnspanishfans]

How to Speak English Like the English

Two of my favourite articles on Fluent in 3 Months are Benny's classics How to Speak English Like the Irish and its sequel Advanced Hiberno English. So, being from England, I'd like to share some thoughts on how to speak English like the English. Let's start with a story you might hear from a mate down the pub in any town in the south of England:

Bloody hell mate! A fortnight ago I was down the local having a chin-wag with this fit bird, feeling pretty chuffed with myself, when some dodgy-looking bloke came up and started getting lairy with me. I don't know what he was on about; I thought he was taking the piss, but he wouldn't stop giving me aggro. I reckon he must have been off his tits. Next thing I knew the Old Bill had shown up and nicked this geezer before he could scarper. What a load of bollocks!

If an English learner saw the above paragraph on a language test, they might decide to give up and learn Esperanto instead. If an English person saw it, however, they'd effortlessly understand that the narrator had been talking to a pretty female in a pub two weeks ago when they'd been accosted by an aggressive and possibly drunk man who was then arrested by the police. If you're a native English speaker staring at the above and wondering if I'm just making it up, I assure you, you ain't seen nothing yet. In this article, I’m going to share how to speak English with an English accent. Before I do that, I’d like to clear up a few common myths about England, Great Britain, and the United Kingdom.

Myth 1: The British Accent

I need to clear one thing up. There’s no such thing as a “British accent”. We Brits rarely use that term ourselves, and we tend to roll our eyes when we hear it used in American TV shows. It’s far more common in the UK to be specific and talk about English, Welsh, Scottish, or Northern Irish accents, the four of which are very distinct from each other. These four accents still only represent broad categories that can be subdivided further.

Myth 2: The United Kingdom and England are the Same Thing

To those who don't understand the difference between the United Kingdom, Great Britain and England - or where other places like Scotland fit into all of this… look it up. Seriously, it’s not that hard to understand. (This video does a neat job of explaining.)

Myth 3: English Citizens Speak the Original Version of English

Do English folk really speak the the “original” version of English? It’s actually a dubious claim. Linguists agree that over the last few hundred years, the accents and dialects of Britain have changed more than the American dialects they gave birth to. In other words, modern American speech is closer to the way British people spoke in 1776 than modern British speech is. [caption id="attachment_20244" align="aligncenter" width="1024"] This is how I imagine it sounded.[/caption] Suffice to say that I'm from England (specifically, I grew up in Oxfordshire), and I can tell you a little bit about the way they talk in the other three Home Nations (Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland), but this is an article about English English, one of the oldest dialects of the world’s biggest language, and the one that gave it its name.

English vs. American English - What’s the Difference?

1. The Rhotic Accent

How exactly then have our accents diverged since the Boston Tea Party? Many books have been written about the precise phonetic details of different English dialects, but for now I’ll stick with just one: rhoticity. If you have a “rhotic accent”, that means you pronounce the letter “r” every time it’s written, and most American dialects (along with Irish and Scottish ones) remain fully rhotic. In England, on the other hand, most of us at some point in the last few hundred years stopped pronouncing the letter "r" when it comes before a consonant (or is at the end of a word). For example in my own name, George, which I pronounce like the word "jaw" with an extra "j" sound on the end, no "r" to be found. In most parts of England (the main exception being the West Country), people pronounce "father" identically to "farther", "pawn" identically to "porn", and "panda" identically to "pander", while to most Americans and Canadians those word pairs are all distinct. Non-rhotic accents can be found outside England too, particularly in places that we colonised more recently than North America like Australia and New Zealand. They can be even found in a small number of places in the U.S., most famously in Noo Yawk. But rhoticity remains one of the clearest, most prominent dividing lines between different varieties of English.

2. Vowel Sounds

Vowel sounds have shifted a fair bit over the years. In many cases sounds which used to be pronounced differently are now pronounced the same, or vice versa, but the merger or split only happened on one side of the Atlantic. I pronounce “cot” very differently from “caught”, but to many Americans they’re homophones. Similarly with “merry”, “marry”, and the name “Mary”, which are three distinct words in British speech, but sound the same in most American accents. In the other direction, I’d pronounce “flaw” identically to “floor” (there’s that lack of rhoticity again), but in American English those words are usually separated not just by an “r” but by two noticeably different vowel sounds.

3. Vocabulary

Where things start to get really confusing is with vocabulary, and I’m not just talking about slang. In Britain the Royal Mail delivers the post, while in the U.S.A. the Postal Service delivers the mail. Confusing, huh? Many of our vocabulary differences are totally arbitrary: if I did something on Saturday or Sunday, I'd say that I'd done it at the weekend, whilst an American would talk about having done it on the weekend. Other differences allow for extra shades of meaning: Americans only talk about being "in the hospital", whilst British English retains a distinction between being "in the/a hospital", which just means you're literally inside the hospital building, and "in hospital", which heavily implies that you're in the hospital as a patient. It's like the difference between being "in school" and "in a school"... except Americans use the word "school" slightly differently too. In the U.S., "school" refers to any educational establishment including college, whilst in the U.K. it's only used to refer to primary and secondary education: the school that you do before going to “uni”, a British abbreviation for “university” that Americans don’t use. To add to the confusion, "public school" means something completely different here; for historical reasons a "public school" in the U.K. is a type of very expensive and exclusive private school, whilst a free, government-funded school (what Americans call a public school) is a "state school." Do you follow? If you’re from America, you may have raised an eyebrow at my frequent use of the word "whilst" in this article. This word sounds very archaic and old-timey to American ears, but it lives on in the U.K. as a synonym of "while". The verb "to reckon" is also alive and well in the British Isles, while in the U.S. it’s not really used anymore, except stereotypically by rural moonshine-drinking folks from the South: ”I reckon this here town ain’t big enough for the both of us!” Then again, I find it weird when Americans say “I wish I would have”. This construction sounds just plain wrong to me. In England we say “I wish I had”. Where do you go to buy alcohol? In the U.S. it's probably a liquor store, but in Blighty (that means Britain) it's more likely to be at the off-licence, so named because it's licensed to sell alcohol for consumption off the premises, as opposed to a bar where you can both buy alcohol and drink it in the same building. After a visit to the off-licence (or "offy", where I'm from), a Brit might get pissed, which means "angry" to an American but "drunk" to us. Another American synonym for "angry" is "mad", but in the U.K. that word exclusively means "crazy" - which caused confusion recently when Bill Clinton described British politician Jeremy Corbyn as "the maddest person in the room". In context it was clear that Clinton had meant “angry”, but many British commentators misinterpreted the statement as a comment on Corbyn's mental health.

What About the Different Accents You’ll Find Inside England?

So far we’ve just been looking at the differences between American English and English English. I’ve barely touched on the enormous regional variations that you'll find within England: from the town I live in I could drive two hours in any direction and be somewhere where the people sound completely different. The stereotypical “posh” (upper class) accent (often called “received pronunciation” or RP) is generally only found in the south, but it’s only the most formal form of southern speech; many shades of variation exist. Up north people sound very different not only from southerners but from each other. For some reason - probably the fact that the north historically has had a lower population density and so the towns have been more isolated - there’s much more regional accent variation in the north, and you can generally pinpoint where a northern person is from from their accent with a higher degree of accuracy than you can a southerner. Liverpool and Manchester are 90 minutes’ drive from each other, and yet the people in each city sound completely different.

We're Only at the Tip of the Iceberg, and it's Time to Go Swimming

Remember our discussion a few moments ago about how a Brit who'd been to the offy might end up pissed? If he got too plastered (drunk) last night he might be hanging (hungover) the next morning and have a lie-in (he stayed in bed later than normal). When his friends ask him what he did last night, he'd tell them that he'd gone out on the piss (gone out drinking), or maybe even on the pull, which means that he wasn't just drinking last night but looking for a fit (attractive) girl to take home. Now it's the morning, but maybe today he'll skive school (skip class), or, if he has a job, pull a sickie (call up his boss and pretend to be ill so he can get the day off). If his boss realises that he's talking rubbish (lying, bullshitting), he might give him the sack (fire him). Our British friend isn't really ill (sick), he just can't be bothered to go to work. I've never been able to precisely explain "can't be bothered" to Americans, but it's an extremely common expression in the U.K. used when you don't want to do something because it's too much effort and/or you're lazy. If you want to be more vulgar, you can upgrade to "can't be fucked", a phrase which shouldn’t be taken too literally. A happy halfway point is "can't be arsed": a fine example of the British spelling and pronunciation of the American "ass". (“Bum”, by the way, is another word for "arse" here, unlike in the U.S. where a "bum" is a homeless person, known in the U.K. as a "tramp".) Then you have “sod”. This ubiquitous British insult refers to an unpleasant or disliked person (see also "wanker") and is considered mildly rude on roughly the same level as “crap” or “damn”. It can also be used as an exclamation (“sod it!”) or an intensifier (“that sodding wanker”). To my astonishment, while researching this article I learned that the word "sod" originated as an abbreviation for "sodomite". I've been using this word my entire life, and I apparently never even knew what it meant. Sodding hell! I’ve only scratched the surface here - I could write far more about the many peculiarities of English English, and the above is just a taster. If I’m being honest (another British turn of phrase - Americans more naturally say “to be honest”), I didn’t really think about most of these things until I started travelling, meeting people from all over the world and finding that many of the expressions I thought were international are in fact uniquely English, or vice versa.

What are Your Favourite Local Words?

Do you have any other fine examples of incomprehensible Englishisms? Or do you have any favourite words or turns of phrase that are common where you're from, but that no-one else understands? Let me know in the comments.

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