Glossary with definitions and explinations at the end. Enjoy!

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In a world like ours, yet not like ours, three suns spun and twisted and danced in eternal cycles around one another. The largest of the three, a calm red giant, is known as Unin, the Young. Twan, the Prime, is a yellow sun; like ours, but not like ours. The oldest, and smallest, of the three is white-hot, and burns ever so faintly with blue. That is Erton, the Old.

In the middle space between these three Ctoris sits what -- from the outside -- appears to be little more than a large and oddly shaped hunk of rock. Fissures and cracks run rampant around its desolate surface. This is Thrae, the center of the InviVerse, though the Thraeans don’t know that. One such inhabitant could be found where none of the others wished to go: the tunnels near the deadly Surface: the Vens.

The Vens were oppressively bright and hot, being so near the surface, but Dalin didn’t really mind. It was the only place where he was guaranteed peaceful solitude, because Thraeans didn’t like to wander into the Vens. The heat of the three Ctoris would burn anyone to less than ash in seconds! No one was that stupid.

Well.

Almost no one.

Still, Dalin found the oppressive light and heat of the rough Vens to be refreshing. Especially after days spent within the Ytic’s cool lumyn-lit caverns. He lay on the rough ground, shirt tucked under his head like a pillow, feeling the distant blaze of Twan warm his skin. A hunk of round-edged refined lumyn lay on his bare chest, sucking up some of the Ctori's heat and converting it to its own pale blue light.

He stretched briefly, tucking his hands under his head, and closing his eyes. The blue lumyn pulsed cooly on his chest. It was small, not enough to make a whole lot of difference, but it was a cool familiar presence. Dalin let his thoughts wander, drifting somewhere along the borders of a dream, yet not quite crossing over into sleep. It was quite relaxing.

Lying there in his esro-leather pants, he probably would’ve looked quite odd to the very unlikely passerby. He looked like little more than a lanky youth with the typical Thraean translucent skin and wispy puff of gleaming hair of purest white, a white to put that of the fresh snow on Earth to shame. To most he would seem the scrawny, runner type. Most would be almost correct. He did run. Typically because he was late for something.

He wasn’t thinking about that though. His thoughts had no distinct shape or direction, and they brushed against one subject before moving on to another. Then the train of his thoughts made a stop that caused his eyes to snap open and a sense of shock and dread to settle over him.

He cursed, sitting up with such speed that the blood took a moment to catch up with his head, causing his world to swim dizzily around him. Then the dizziness cleared and he snatched his shirt off the floor and leapt to his feet.

He roughly pulled the shirt over his head, cursing all the while. He pulled his cronocrys out of his pocket, looking at the green glow. It was long past Half-Cycle. Dalin cursed again.

She’s going to plonning kill me! He thought. Though that wasn’t entirely accurate. Ruof wouldn’t kill him. She was too much like her mother for that.

She would make him feel like such a plonn that he’d wish she’d want to kill him.

Barely pausing to tuck his cronocrys away, Dalin started sprinting full tilt through the Vens. Typically, he would never do something so stupid and potentially fatal. Typically. But he was late enough already to throw caution to the xcarl.

As he ran the rough stone tunnels around him gradually became smoother, and colorful shards of lumyn began to appear as the light of Twan dwindled behind him. Then he took a sharp turn, reaching out to grab a sharp bit of lumyn to control the turn and keep him from falling or crashing into the lumyn-covered wall. (A turn of events that surely would’ve killed him.) The glowing crystal-like stone sliced his hand open, and pale blood like greatly watered down milk flew and stained the rough tunnel wall. He cursed at the pain, but didn’t slow.

Two sharp turns, and another cut on the same hand, later, Dalin burst out of the Vens and into the Outer-Ytic. What he saw before him caused him to skid to a panting wide-eyed halt.

“Ruof,” he breathed, guilt already weighing on him. She hadn’t even said anything yet!

His half-sister was a tiny thing, even for an Ogacichian her age. Though she was only ten, and she had plenty of time to grow. Her silver hair hung past her waist, and was easily just as wispy as Dalin‘s, wispier even. Her hair almost seemed to drift in a non-existent breeze, each strand as thin and delicate as spider thread. (Not that Thrae had spiders, nor would its people know what to think of one if they did see one.) Her large eyes stared at him, and the painful look of betrayal fixed Dalin in his place. She sniffled, red-tinted tears glinting in the light of the lumyn surrounding them.

“You promised!” She said, her youthful soprano voice trembling.

Dalin swallowed and licked his lips nervously. She looked so confused, so hurt, and he knew it was because of him. Had it been anyone -- anyone -- else, he’d have told them to suck it up and deal with it, it wasn’t that big a deal.

But this was Ruof. Little Ruof.

The only sibling he had that he could actually more than tolerate. In fact, she was the only one of his six half-siblings that he could confidently say he loved. And she was so innocent… so fragile.

It was a shame he’d never been good at keeping promises.

“I’m so sorry, Ruof!” And he meant it. He didn’t usually apologize, and when he did it was rarely genuine, but he meant it. “I just… well…” He didn’t have an excuse. He never could lie to Ruof. Everyone else? No problem! Ruof…

“You were supposed to help me with my Lumatiks homework! And you promised no more Vens!” The red tears were flowing freely now, and Dalin didn’t know how to stop them.

He flinched at the tone in her voice, his stomach twisting guiltily. He cleared his throat, and lifted his hands as if he were facing a rabid tac instead of his little sister. “I know, Ruof, and I’m really sorry. But I just--”

He got no further than that, for at that moment, Ruof’s gaze fixed on his left hand. Her white eyes widened, and she gasped, raising both hands to cover her mouth.

Dalin watched this strange reaction with confusion. What was wrong with his hand? It was just like any other hand. Pale, dark grey veins pulsing under the skin, and six fingers with four joints each including the knuckle. Nothing unusual. He looked at his hand, and was shocked to see a strip of his own pale flesh hanging free, white blood and yellow pus seeping out in a steady stream.

He’d been so preoccupied with his haste and thoughts that he’s completely forgotten about his hand.

“Oh,” was all he could think to say. “I should probably get that looked at.”

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Roctod Nevets Nosnevets was as skilled a physician as any, despite his funny sounding name. Though that didn’t mean Dalin trusted him not to accidently chop his hand off. How Nosnevets would manage that with a needle and thread, Dalin had no idea, but you never could tell. While Rd. Nosnevets was busy stitching up his hand, Dalin was distracting himself from the wee roctod’s careful -- yet still disturbingly shaky -- ministrations.

“Aw, come on Ruof! Don't cry!” He pleaded. “I’m fine! Really and truly! I swear by the three Cotris, this is barely a scratch! Like a repap cut! It stings like the Surface, but it’ll heal in no time!” But all his reassurances and pleading seemed to go unheard by his young innocent half-sibling.

Ruof continued to sniffle and cry and sniffle some more. Nothing he said seemed to reassure her, her eyes remained fixed on the bloody work that was the roctod stitching up his sliced up hand. Then Nosnevets finally moved on to the actual bandaging, and no longer being able to see the ragged mess that was Dalin’s palm seemed to calm her somewhat.

Somewhat.

She was still crying, but the sniffles had come to an end.

“Why did you do it, Dal? I don't understand?”

He swallowed nervously. “Do what?”

“You know what!”

He did know what. He just didn't want her to think about it. So he stalled. “If you're talking about being late, I’m really sorry. I completely lost track of time, and--"

“I’m not talking about that!”

Xcarl! She’d actually interrupted him! She really must have been aggravated. Ruof was the sort of person who could wait forever for others to finish talking, she had the patience of a latrommi, and a heart so loving and forgiving it would put a heart of a seosh to shame. It might even put Twan to shame!

“If it’s the Lumatiks quiz coming up, there’s still color in the lumyn, we can go down to Amleth’s and--"

“Dalin!”

Now he was in deep plonn. Not only had she interrupted him -- again! -- she’d called him by his name instead of the affectionate nickname she always used. He swallowed again, and Rd. Nosnevets finished up with the bandage and started cleaning up. He didn't seem aware of the half-siblings’ disagreement.

“What if I promise to make it up to you?”

Ruof’s tears had subsided considerably, and she watched Dalin curiously. Her version of suspicion. “Aln?”

Dalin bit back a wince. He never could figure out his step-mother’s native tongue, Egaugnal, and she hadn’t held back on teaching it to her own children. It was rather irritating, actually. Still, despite his incompetence in Egaugnal, he understood aln, especially when spoken in that tone.

I don’t understand?

“Maerk esi. As much as you want, any flavor under the lumyn.”

“Really?”

Now there was a definite sparkle in her eyes, and Dalin felt his own spirits lift. He nodded and raised his uninjured hand. “My word. If I break it you can dunk me in the dica thabs.”

A look of horror widened her eyes and tugged her jaw toward the floor. She shook her head vigorously. “Never! Never ever! Why would you even think it!?”

Dalin should’ve known better than to tease Ruof with a mock offer of his life. No one else would’ve cared, maybe snorted and clapped him on the shoulder with a roll of the eyes, but not really taken him seriously. Ruof didn’t know the meaning of the word “kidding.”

Oops… He thought.

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After convincing his half-sister that he wouldn’t really jump into the acidic dica thabs (which isn’t what he said, but Ruof had a wild imagination at times), Dalin and Ruof left the shaky old black-haired Rd. Nosnevets and headed for Amleth’s.

Amleth’s was a nice enough place, for Rawtown, in any case. It had a homey feel, with rough pale stone walls and very thick and plush cushions on the seats. The stools that lined the bar weren’t quite as plush, but that was because they had been squashed down over time, as they were the more popular seating arrangements for most of the customers. Amelth, the owner herself, was a short plump woman with your typical silver hair, colored by the few streaks of dark that always came with age. Her eyes were an unusual color, like the blue lumyn that lined the edge of her bar. Blue wasn’t an unheard of eye color, but it wasn’t very common among Ogacichians. Then again, Amleth was only half Ogacichian. Her other half was Kroywen. At least, Dalin was pretty sure. His step-mother was Kroywen, and she had blue eyes. His own eyes were the typical Ogacichian black. Nothing unique or special.

When they arrived at Amleth’s, Dalin opened the door for Ruof, and pressed the bandaged hand to his right shoulder with mock discipline, the Thraean version of a sweeping bow. “Little sisters first,” he said, tossing her a teasing little wink.

Ruof giggled and stuck her tongue out at him, then stepped into the little maerk esi store. Dalin followed after her with a grin, letting the door swing closed behind him.

The place was mostly empty, except for a few people who stopped in for a late lunch. Dalin grabbed his little sister around the hips and hoisted her into one of the stools nearest the window that let you see into the kitchen. “Up you go!”

She squealed and slapped at his hands, but she was still smiling. Amleth peered at them through the kitchen window, her strange foreign blue eyes crinkled at the corners with a small smile. She ambled out of the kitchen to stand before them across the counter. “What can I get for you today?” She asked.

She cast Dalin a look so quick that Ruof didn’t notice it. That look said, What did you do this time?

He grinned, ignoring the look. He hopped onto the stool to the left of Ruof and wrapped one arm around his little sister’s shoulders. “I,” he declared, “am buying my little sister as much maerk esi as she wants.”

Amleth raised her brows with mock surprise and curiosity. “Are you now? Goodness. What flavor?” She asked, leaning closer, a look of the purest glittering interest in her laughing eyes. Ruof leaned forward and whispered in her ear, though not so low that Dalin couldn’t hear.

“Any flavor!”

Amleth’s blue eyes widened, her mouth forming a small ‘o’. It almost made Dalin laugh, but he’d had plenty of practice with concealing his emotions. He wouldn’t say he was a great actor, but he didn’t think he was too bad, either.

Amleth leaned back. “Well then!” She said. “Let’s get down to business.” She poked the counter for emphasis on the word, ‘business’, her expression serious. With an exaggerated flourish she revealed an old menu, the corners bent and the words fading. She placed it before Ruof with an air of reverence. “I suggest you choose carefully,” she advised Ruof, and the little girl nodded solemnly.

She had already forgotten Dalin’s broken promise, it seemed. When it came to Dalin, she seemed to be good at forgetting broken promises, because she always seemed surprised when he did it again.

With his free hand he felt at his pocket, hoping he still had a few dels to his name. He bit down on a sigh of relief when he pulled a couple lister coins from his pocket. He placed them on the counter, and Amleth swept them away without a second glance.

When Ruof had made her decision, she pointed it out to Amleth, and the woman nodded sagely. “You have made a wise decision, milarsha. Very wise indeed.”

Amleth turned and disappeared into the kitchen, then reappeared beyond the window. They watched as she scooped the colorful sweet chunky flakes of the maerk esi into a medium sized bowl. She returned with it and handed it to Ruof, who accepted it with a happy “Thank you!” and slid off the stool to go eat in her favorite spot in the corner.

Dalin watched her go with a small smile, and as soon as she had settled beyond his sight in the booth, he turned back to Amleth. “Milarsha?” He asked.

She shrugged, her smile indecipherable. “It’s accurate.”

Dalin nodded. “Why don't I have an affectionate nickname?”

She raised one inquisitive brow, her maternal blue eyes glittering with mischief. “Who says you don't?”

Dalin frowned and opened his mouth to answer, but a call from Ruof distracted him. He turned to see her peeking over the bench of the booth, waving at him. “Com’ere!”

“Just an inst.” He looked back to Amleth, but she wasn't there any more. He grumbled several choice curses under his breath before going to join his little half-sister.

Women, he thought, shaking his head. They'll be the death of me.

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It's been a little while since I wrote a short story, and this was one I'd written a few months back. At the time, I didn't plan on posting it because of how confusing it might be. I know when I read it to a friend, She didn't quite understand all the terms.

But that's why glossaries are so much fun. If you can't make an inference about what something is or what it means, you can always look it up.

So here you go!

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Unin

The Ctori of Recklessness and Mistakes. The Maker of Free Men. Guardian of Choice.

His servants are the Neve, the Liars.

Unin is often associated with childishness, foolishness, and wrongdoing. Technically, as far as religion is concerned, without him, there would be no free will.

Twan

The Ctori of Understanding and Forgiveness. The Seeker of Truth. Guardian of the Just.

His servants are known as the Seosh, the Good.

Erton

Ctori of Knowledge and Wisdom. The Gatherer of Secrets. Guardian of Intelligence.

His servants are known as the Latrommi, the Immortals.

Ctori  

their name for a sun

they don't know about stars

synonymous with 'god', or 'deity'

they see the Ctoris as the Guardians of their world

Vens

rough twisting tunnels just under the Surface of Thrae. the closer to the Surface, the less lumyn you find, and the rougher and more treacherous the tunnels become.

to willingly walk the Vens is unheard of

only criminals guilty of murder or treason are banished beyond them, to the Surface. (Thraeans can't survive sunlight, and it burns them a great deal.) (Their suns [Ctoris] are also closer to them than our sun is to us, enough to be very uncomfortable)

Ytic

city/cavern

it's Egaugnal, translates roughly to "city haven" or "city cavern"

basically just refers to a massive area of hollowed out earth with a relatively large hunk of Thraean civilization.

lumyn crystals

they absorb heat, eat it up like food, and transform it into light energy. They're almost always glowing

color tends to vary; diff colors of lumyn can be refined for diff. purposes

blue - light (usually)

green - cronocrys

etc.

lumyn loses it's color at night, darkening and becoming just a pale white glow, very dim.

esro

a type of livestock; very strange (It's basically a sphere with seven legs covered all over with long furry tentacle/stalk things, like over-sized fur; very friendly and good livestock)

meat is tough and stringy, but perfectly nutritious for Thraeans

leather is very sturdy and warm, used for lots of things

cronocrys

(kruh-NAW-krihs)

small green crystal harvested from lumyn

it's basically a watch, it helps Thraeans tell the time

Time of day

Mono-Cycle - 1am

Duo-Cycle - 2am

…

Half-Cycle - noon

Triskai-Cycle - 1pm

…

cycle = day

inst = second

plonn

another term for a chip of esro dung

xcarl

(ks-kahrl) I can't even pronounce it...

often used as a curse

refers to a suspected wasteland deep within Thrae that is deadly and impossible to reach, found beyond the dica thabs

said to be nearly lifeless

Thraean blood

white blood, very watery, like very watered down milk

Ogacichian

(oh-jah-SIHSH-ee-ahn)

name of a Thraean native to the Ytic of Ogacich (oh-jah-SIHSH)

Thraean tears

Thraeans are not much like humans, aside from shape and personality

They don't have water on Thrae, they survive on a substance called reta.

Reta

red, water-like, but it's NOT water

To humans it would be poisonous

Lumatiks

basically the study of lumyn and its many uses

typical elementary school class

tac

Wild creature native to the wastes known as the xcarl beyond the dica thabs

vicious even in the best of moods

like a wolverine mixed with a badger, a panther, and a werewolf

Roctod

basically a doctor, a simple physician

Latrommi

Immortal mythical creatures said to be the servants of Erton, the Ctori of Knowledge and Wisdom.

They gathered information for him, and could allegedly read minds.

They are said to be immensely patient, capable of waiting for centuries for an opportunity if needed.

Seosh

the servants of the kind-hearted Twan. typically associated with good deeds, or justice.

they are known to be excessively kind and helpful

Repap

Cheap paper

Common in Rawtown

"there's still color in the lumyn"

Basically a phrase meaning 'the sun's still in the sky' or 'or there's still hours left in the day'

Aln

Egaugnal

basically means, "I don't understand"

Egaugnal

a language of Thrae, native to the Ytic of Kroywen

maerk esi

Thraean version of ice cream, only it's warm and crunchy, very sweet

"under the lumyn"

“under the sun"

dica thabs

acid pools deep within the planet

the little land around the pools is slick, glassy and icelike, and treacherous.

No sane Thraean wanders near the dica thabs

the same is often said of the Vens

the suspected lands beyond the thabs are said to be nearly lifeless wastelands, known as the xcarl

nearly lifeless because the vicious creatures known as tacs are said to live there

Thraean hair

when Thraens age, their hair darkens, instead of lightens

their hair is already white/silver, so it can't get paler

Rawtown

refers to a poorer section of the Ogacich Ytic

Kroywen Ytic

another city where Thraeans live, closest Ytic to Ogacich.

Thraean eyes

Thraeans don't have pupils, so the irises are just solid uninterrupted color

When Dalin says his eyes are black, he isn't kidding. They really are a solid black. Not dark brown, black

dels

unit of Ogacichian currency

Lister coins

Lister is the Thraean equivalent of silver

"milarsha"

Egaugnal

basically means "sweet child" refers to an innocent youth of pure mind

Typically an affectionate nickname

Not  necessarily gender specific, but usually used in reference to girls