The First Denying Words/Episode Text

== Episode Text ==
The next morning, my eyes opened up to the same world that was granted to me once I arrived here. I was on the reclining chair, much in peace, without the disturbances. The third day being in Ovilis was not what I expected, for I thought that I was going to be able to dwell outside of the District of Turiah for once. However, I am a prisoner at this facility with no one to support me. With no support is all that I need, since that I know how to accompany to myself. Being in Ovilis is no task, even though there is some level of higher difficulty to adjust to the system.
I sat up from the chair and looked into the mirror, seeing the mirror fading the environment to a gathering of fog. The blurriness coming into the scene was as a light beaming into the wide eyes of the ignorant. It was more than empty of awareness.
Yesterday, I did not need any more food to supply me for the rest of the day besides in the morning. Even then, this morning, deprivation of hunger settled in my mind as I sat up, with the airy conditions in my belly.
Today is the day which all of the Interpreters meet once again in the "Regimen" for some reason said to be to interpret Najarv'sye and his situation, although he did not say much. The questions asked afterward were dry and unproductive, also. Everyone could notice that Moderator Xanthub Fuge was agitated at the incompetence of the interpreters that asked lacky questions, only to receive lacky answers. I was the only one, nevertheless, that asked a rather decent question.
I walked straight to the "Regimen", and pushed the door to open, but it did not move. Searching for assistance, I took a look around. No one is in the hallways, and it seems dark here. Perhaps everyone is still asleep.
Shaking my head, attempts to force the door open came out of frustration, becoming more and more unsuccessful. After a while, I sat against the door and layed against it.
"Morning, Savoice," Lovopian trotted up to me as his long ears and golden hair bopped with him. "Why are you against the 'Regimen' door?"
"It will not open."
Lovopian extended his hand as I grabbed hold. He pulled me up. "You're not supposed to be here right now, you know."
"Do you think I did not realize that?"
"Well," he swayed his eyes and head side to side, lips stirred toward his cheek, "You are somewhat strange, Savoice."
"I am just like the rest of you." Then again, I may not be. "Actually, I am like you in your position, but I am a--."
"Stranger."
The need for food controlling my thoughts made me depart. "Sure. Let us eat breakfast."
"Now? The 'Regimen' meet is in an hour."
"How long does it take you to eat?" I continued walking for the dining hall downstairs.
He followed, meeting me at the side toward the doors. "About..." He thought, "Fifty minutes to an hour."
"It takes me fifteen minutes to eat a whole plate. Yesterday, I took longer because I was talking to other people."
"Is that what you mean?" He slid his hand with his movement down the stairs. "You were asking about just eating only?"
"I did not mention conversation, did I?"
"You did not. I was referring to just eating, though."
"Alright then," I affirmed, walking into the cafeteria.
"Koka" frowned at me, and then looked at the girl with the green eyes. I already forgot her name. "Look at him," she swat her towel in my direction. "That's the one."
Disregarding the gossip, I got a large plate which had green trims this time, and served my meats and dessert-like foods accordingly to how much I would need the whole day. Lovopian ate much of his greens, filling his plates to match the trim colors. Then, we both met at a table closest to the kitchen, which brought in delightful scents of freshly baked breads.
"You know they're talking about you, right?" Lovopian seated right in front of me squinted his eyes.
I pulled a roll of bread to my mouth. "That 'Koka' girl seems to always talk about me." Then, I bit and chewed.
"Yeah..." He took his first bites as well. "You know that Ovilians do that if they have a romantic interest for you."
"Romantic interest?" I had never heard of such. As a matter of fact, I heard that most Ovilians only married and skipped the pre-marriage stages to evaluate the interest mate. Perhaps, that may not be true, then.
Lovopian eyed me closely, and then put his fork down. "Have you been married back in Pertan?"
"No. No children, either."
He nodded. "I expected that. Your self-esteem is well upheld." Then, he dropped his head to his food and continued to chew away.
Me, on the other hand, was in thought about Pertan all over again, since that Pertan is the first place to live, after all. Pre-marriage stages are possibly the most important parts of linking to another person, because it is a necessity to know who a person is being married to. Actually, it is more than important than the vow itself, because once a person is married in Pertan, they are not allowed to separate.
I have personally had romantic partners in the past, especially when I was a Higher. Even then, much of them believed that I was "ruthless" as one had said and "self-serving". No, what would have been "ruthless" and "self-serving" was letting them rot in the romantic circle to be consumed by defrauders instead of romantically engaging with them with sincerity. It is that much people do not understand my meaning of taking the positions that I do.
"I did not mean that offensively," Lovopian chewed, adding on to the previous thought.
"I hope not." I began to finish my plate all the way through. Nothing is better than a dose of exceptional meals warm and prepared in the morning.
After we both ate, we sat at the door of the "Regimen", waiting for the meeting to start. There, I learned that Lovopian is from Salwom, and his parents are a part of this anti-Vavy group called the Tyria Grossa. He explained the situation on why he came here to Ovilis, which was to escape the penalties of his parents in thought of Highers and their sabotage. I told him my share of the anti-Vavy groups rising in Pertan, and how that took a toll on how the safety of being a Higher was at risk. We shared cultural standpoints on the matter, with Lovopian taking the role of "any person can believe what they want" sort of ordeal.
A sharp shrill, the same one from the day before, rang down the halls. Since the both of us were at the door of the "Regimen", the shrills were at its loudest, as I had to move from it temporarily and Lovopian rolled his ears up. Once that was over, the other interpreters approached us, Interpreter Myaari at the front.
"How are they early?" Zona Kon'effin treaded toward us, raising his arms. "Are they allowed to do that?"
"As long as that door is locked, they're okay," Interpreter Myaari stopped at the door, and then turned over to me and Lovopian. "How long were you two here?"
"Longer than you, obviously," Lovopian smirked. "About thirty minutes--maybe even forty." I just stood there and observed.
"Were you not expecting us to be here?"
He glared. "I wasn't. Next time, call me up here early, so we can talk more together."
Dojyu Coffnaigh marched up to us. "Executive amidst. Morning everyone."
There were a combination of "Fine Morning" and "Good Morning" mixed in the bundle of interpreters. I did not say a word to him.
Dojyu Coffnaigh turned red as he walked through the wall.
In the background, the distracted Polly asked," What time is it?"
"Almost..." Salmah Ogan looked at the wall, which had a ticker of Ovilian numbers. "Two-hundred and forty mintutes into morning."
"What time is that really?" I asked. This time system is rather strange. Behind me, the door opened, and the interpreters flooded into the doors. I whistled sharply, but they did not listen.
"Just go inside," Lovopian shook his head and rushed in.
I followed them inside, as commanded, marching with them in a single-filed line. There was the room where we were the day before with Najarv'sye. We continued to the other door that was toward the back, with Dojyu Coffnaigh standing at the side of it as we strode through it.
"Make some progress," he smiled at Khovab, who was feeling his feathers. "And, do not mention the Vavys, please."
Khovab murmured something, shaking his head, but I could not hear it.
Eventually, Dojyu Coffnaigh peeped into the door, supervising as everyone sat in their seats, nodded at Interpreter Myaari, and left. I sat in the back row with Lovopian.
"I wonder what we're talking about today," Polly nudged Lovopian from the other side.
Salmah smiled at him. "We talk about what they yesterday told us. We're talking about the case."
Interpreter Myaari smiled, hands on his hips, and nodded. "Good morning, everyone. We will begin this debate with an overarching question provided by me, and then we will debate. By the way," he glanced over at Polly, "we're talking about the 'expression day' from yesterday from Najarv'sye."
Interpreter Satire the tiger male scratched his head. "How much more of this is there?"
"As much as we're assigned," Interpreter Erchliy retorted. "Now, here's the question: How do you see reality? I quote from my notes from Najarva'sye, who said, 'I see reality.' How do you see reality, people?"
All of the initial geniuses just became unintelligent, as the room dropped dead silent. The pressure ringing from the silence reminds me of when I was first in my room, where there was no sound at all. It seems as though there is a sound of silence, although that itself is paradoxial. All of the notes that were taken yesterday were nullified by the question, with some of them fervently searching for an answer in them. Now, that is a good question. Still, it is able to be conquered.
"Well," an instinct to knock on the table came to me, "We see reality because we believe it. I believe that you're here, Interpreter Myaari," I handedly addressed, "so I see you."
"Wait, but what about the things that are there, but we don't see it?" Zona Kon'effin attacked.
Slowly, in thought, I turned over to him. "Then, of course, it's not real."
"Are you real then, Savoice?"
"Of course I am," my eyes squinted. "Are you?"
"Well," Polly broke in, "we're real because we have documented you in the system. You are Interpreter Demoy," he pointed to me, and then over at Zona, "and you are Interpreter Kon'effin."
"Documents don't really prove anything," Khovab blatantly rejected, pulling his blue curls at the bottom of his hair. "I mean, we are not Nylans anymore, because of what the--."
"Hey, hey," Interpreter Myaari admonished. "We shouldn't talk about that."
"Can I at least finish my statement?"
"Sure," he nodded. "But, I'm not going to let you let something like that slip any more. Next time, it is a write to ejection to Cherjanja."
"You can do that?"
"Of course he can," Zona knocked, rolling his eyes. "And about the matter, I think that we 'see' reality until we come to consensus as a people on what's real or not. This 'spotaneous reality' of Ovilis is nothing, because we don't expect it."
"Energy storms are not expected," Interpreter Lalsu handed attention to the ceiling, "but we still deem them a threat, and therefore are in 'reality'."
Interpreter Zona scoffed, "Then, you may as well say that our thoughts are a part of reality, too."
"They are," I agreed. "What is in our thoughts are executed in a manner that fits to what we understand and come to know."
"But, are they what we really come to know and understand? I mean, if we think that we understand something, and we come out to be wrong, then does it make your actions 'unreal'? No, they just become your reality."
"Or, perhaps nothing is real at all."
Everyone stared at me, and then Interpreter Myaari saved the silence. "Well, it is one or the other, huh? What do you think, Interpreter Renin?"
The brown canine with the blue eyes cut his eyes at Interpreter Myaari, who he called "Renin." He was made the impression to speak, but he did not say anything. Sitting in his all-white robe, he had his right ankle resting on his other leg, fidgeting.
"Or not," Interpreter Myaari was denied, and turned over to Interpreter Satire, who was laying his head down. "How about you, Interpreter Satire? What do you think about being able to 'see' reality?"
He shrugged carelessly—slouching. "We see reality because everyone else does. As long as your neighbor can see it, it's real."
"That is exactly what I was saying," Interpreter Kon'effin shook his head. "We as the people come to consensus on what we see. If there is a small population that doesn't see it, then they are insane."
Lovopian knocked on the table. "Could we all be living our own realities at the same time?"
"Do you what mean?" Salmah blinked hard and quick.
"I mean," he smirked, "do we as people live in a world where everything is not real but ourselves?"
"How would we be able to respond to your questions, Lovopian?" That concept did not even make any sense. There is no way that the people are divided like that for any reason. "And why are you smiling?"
"I'll answer the latter first. We are getting nowhere with these questions. We're living divided--like I said. For the first question, you can respond because our minds are able to create these synthetic realities like that. When we do that, creating our own images of reality, we are considering our own selves as 'real' because we cannot relate to anyone else like ourselves. You get it?"
"Still, Interpreter Lovopian," Zona pulled his mouse ears, "we can't 'see' reality unless we have an outer perspective. It just ultimately depends on what a person decides 'reality' is. To me, 'reality' in this case is more of the external outlook of the world and how it affects us. Some might say how one affects the world. Whatever the reason is, there is some interaction somewhere on both parts."
Interpreter Myaari nodded. "So, you're saying that we 'see' reality because reality 'sees' us? Well, of course it can't really see us until we accept it."
"I agree," my dark accent broke the youthful tone of Interpreter Myaari. "The world recognizes us until we make contributions to it, therefore proving existence." Then, I thought about when I was ignored numerous times being at this facility. "But, sometimes there are contributions that are not recognized that require us accepting our existence. I am finished."
Zona Kon'effin nodded with Lovopian. Polly frowned at me, and then glanced over at Interpreter Satire laying his head again. Who Interpreter Myaari called "Interpreter Renin" flashed his glowing blue eyes back at me. Khovab searched Salmah's assurance, but nothing was said between them.
Interpreter Lalsu smoothed his hair. "What we deem an affect to us could be reality--to an extent. As it has been said before that we cannot adjust, that is because of a rule of reality on Ovilis. 'Spotaneous reality' is a part of our reality that cannot be controlled, and therefore having an effect on us. We can sense them there like any other, we just cannot expect them. Therefore, we accept its existence, but deny its reasoning."
"Sounds alot like us being here on Reyonis Platura," Khovab murmured. "We exist, but the V--we don't ask why we're here."
Interpreter Myaari nodded. "Let me say this, too. We accept a lot of things, and then reject them later. So, how do we know if it is truly real or not."
"At that present moment it is relevant is the time when it is a reality. When it affects little to none, it is a reality that once was. Reality always changes, as we people do." I shook my head, listening to my own words. "But, some people are adamant and do not change for any reason. For this, reality is either denied or seen. Everything here is 'seeable', if accepted."
Silence partook the room with reverence for my wise words. That sound of silence hummed the spirits there, causing them to come on one accord.
"Do we agree with this?" Interpreter Myaari hunted for any more inquiry from the interpreters. "Salmah, anything to add to that?"
He turned from him with no hesitation. "Nope."
"How about you," Interpreter Myaari pointed at Polly. "Anything to add?"
Polly nodded. "What is real is what used to be fake, and vice versa. We have to adjust to those changes as they change and never deny reality."
Interpreter Myaari rolled his eyes around the room at all of the blank, tired faces—besides mine. "Good, Polly. Is there anything else from anyone else?"
No one said a word until I knocked on the table. "Where are the conclusions to these issues?"
"You mean in these meetings?"
"Yes. How do you know when the meeting is over?"
"Well, this is my first time doing this, Higher Savoice. I suppose when everyone gets quiet like it is now is a sign to close the meeting. Any other questions, concerns, comments?"
Again, no one said anything until I did. "A person had told me not to deny what I see here in Ovilis, and now I know why. It is difficult to believe in a concept that was never controlled by one's self--including the acceptance of the truth."
"And how does that pertain to us, Savoice?" Interpreter Myaari walked over to the back wall where there was a clear window with cement lining behind it.
"Anything I do matters," I replied proudly. "Most of all, it is more of an in-depth explanation of what we are discussing here. But, that is it for me."
"Right..." Interpreter Myaari turned over to the board and picked up a pen of some sort. "Now, I am going to write the question down as well as the answer. All of you should write it down, too, so that you can bring it up in future meets or other encounters with Najarv'sye."
From there, he began to write in the deep, rich, blue painting ink the question: "How do you see 'reality'?" Then, in green ink, he jotted his consise answer accordingly: "We as people 'see reality' by accepting the conditions that are available, regardless of perspective, to maintain how it affects us and redeem the past realities that were once denied."
Interpreter Myaari turned back over to the group, still holding his pen horizontally. "You do not have to accept this doctrine much, but you can just think about it to yourself when you live your daily lives. But, if this ever does become a conclusion, gets finalized, and legalized, then it would be the law of the land to adhere to it." He cheerfully grinned. "Good job today, guys. The next meet will be another 'expression day' for Najarv'sye--which probably will be much longer than the first one. It is in two days, so, be ready, and don't be late. You are all dismissed." From there, he departed with notes and left the entire room.
With my need to justify myself, I closed my eyes, "I had the first words, and the last ones. Probably the ones in between, too."
Lovopian raised on eye. "Are you proud of that?"
"Well, I was mor--."
"He sure was," Interpreter Satire hit my arm. "You're pretty intelligent though. Watch it, he's gonna win."
Lovopian grinned and shook his head. "Win at what?"
"You know what I mean, don't you?" he striken my arm again. "You're really smart."
"I am. I was a Higher, after all."
"But," Lovopian snickered with Interpreter Satire, "you were. You are not one now."
"Well, I am a Higher still."
"No, you're not. You're an interpreter."
Interpreter Satire simpered to himself, and then let go of me. "I need to go back to my room and take care of some other stuff. Hopefully, I can get an admission to return, too." He leaving, waved, "See ya'll later."
Lovopian smiled. "See you later, fellow." Then, he turned over to me. "Wanna stop by my room?"
"Why not?"
The ears of the rabbit shivered. "Well, if not, you could go deal with that issue about Moderator Ed-Nonon, you know."
"I'd rather just ignore it for now. He's going to be in trouble later, anyway."
"He's a Moderator," he began to walk to the room as I followed. "You don't know what priviledges or even favor he really has in the team of moderators."
"That girl saved me." I glistened the tips of my fingers against the stair railings as we were traveling up.
"You mean the one you asked about...was that yesterday or two days ago?" Lovopian settled with himself. "I think it was two days ago."
"She is the one with the white hair wearing all black and the headscarf."
"Yep," he approached his door. "That's Moderator Zyphera Elleai. Apparently, she's the first female Moderator. Technically, there could have been female interpreters, but I guess they drafted all males to balance it..." He opened the door, and offered me inside.
His room did not look the same as mine—at all. The room was a "U" shape, with the curving vertice being where the door was. His shower was at the far left corner, indicated by different paneled floors. The floors were wood, and the shower floors were some sort of soft rock elements. He had no windows, but he did have clear walls all around that had cement backings. This could definitely be used for writing. His bed even looked different, as it was on the floor with elevated softness and pillows all over it.
"You've really been staring a while," Lovopian caught me off guard in thought. "You like it?" He sat down on the bed and shook his head, smirking once again. "I should not see yours sometime."
"You mean, you should?"
"I mean what I say," he scoffed playfully, yet for me to imply coarseness. "I think you do like my room."
"It is different, definitely from mine." I sat down on the bed beside him. "Do you know how to tell time here?"
"Kinda. Now, I normally just ask people around until I approach someone that knows, like Salmah. There are tickers around the building, too, but I can't read those numerals."
"It has been strange living here, especially for two days. Although everything here looks very bland and all that, so do the people. You slouch a lot, Lovopian."
"And you hold yourself upright a lot, Savoice, which is never a negative trait. Just don't let it get too ahead of you."
"Do you think it already has?"
Lovopian smirked. "Why would you have to ask me? Ask yourself that."
"Savoice," I literally adhered to the advice, "has your uprightness got in front of you already? No, I do not think so." I looked back at Lovopian. "Did you hear that? Savoice just said that he did not think so."
Lovopian eyed me closely with his deep forest crusoe green eyes, with the glares of them starking my ego. "Maybe you aren't real, Savoice."
"What?"
"You heard me."
"Yes," I muttered, "this seems more familiar than I want it to be." I stood up. "I'm leaving."
"Okay. See you at the meeting, or maybe at breakfast at tommorrow."
I viewed his nature. He did not recognize that I was resentful, it seemed. "Until next time, fellow." From there, I walked out.
Right in front of his door, I read the words on the door post: "Salmah Ogan". Checking around the halls were some of the interpreters going into their rooms, with Interpreter Lalsu coming close. I dashed to my room spotaneously.
"Savoice," he addressed, "I would like to speak with you for a minute."
I stopped, considering to continue, but then recollected consequences that were bound to occur is I did. "What?"
He arched his eye. "I have heard that you were attacked by a Moderator."
The remind of this situation became tedious and a pain in my mind. "It was an accident, more of. He was just angry."
"He's not supposed to do that, you know."
"I know that. Why would he do it out of elation?"
He hung his head to the ground. "He's attacked me before, and no one believed me on it. Just know that I do not believe you, either." From there, he walked away.
"Alright," agitation began to stir, "what did you mean by that?" I sighed, and then walked to my room in awareness that something was wrong with every person here at the Ovilian Arch of Studies.
Najarv'sye Au-Vimoen seems to be one of the most reknown people in the facility, since that they reverence him much. So, that night, I made a plan to subdue his person-fed pride. Once he would express himself and such, I would let someone ask him a question and let them shudder before him, for they have no courage whatsoever to speak unless it is direly necessary. But, then the people would catagorize me along with the fear. I suppose I would ask the Moderators a question to alleviate the tension in the room, and then someone would give their question.
Yes! From there, I would be able to build off of the other people's questions and make them of my own to gradually subdue Najarv'sye on the basis of his determination of reality. If he responds it as "self-explanatory" like last time, I will acknowledge it as weakness, because he cannot explain it again for me. Simply, no one would be able to chop me down for any reason.Category:Sub-pages