VELVET HONEY CHRONICLES
TONAZAN
SCRIPTS 1-5
(Great Tonazan's journal, translated into the lingi franci populi, cc. 999 GKE. Note: Script 5 has missing fragments, and everything else was lost in the fire of his cabin.)
Note: The translations of some of the Dzekuwa words less known, will be found directly in the parentheses.
The translation for Denovrri was provided by Yan Vraibeli.
The translation of the Kora languages, frequently called Auriaur, is currently outside of our field of expertise, however due to the capabilities of our transcriber Kalina Mutsi, we affirm that everything written will be understandable for those who are familiar with the language. The second edition of this paper will include the translation. Speeches were translated by outside parties before the creation of this document.
SCRIPT 1
In the summer of 999 GKE, the spiritual state of the people and pilgrims has become so devoid of light which has been lit upon us ever since He Who Sees gifted it to us. There is no strength of spirit to be found, and as I write this, not a single soul cries but mine for the gifts that have been given to us, neither is a single pilgrim's journey made in sincerity. Rather it serves a purpose which the writings by the Great Kalizukai, let his name be uttered only in good and out of evil from now on (Makuzeshi 31:3), themselves condemn. They prepare for the Great Journey out of need for status, never doing so much as to truly taste the Velvet Honey, and let them go blind and unbeknownst to them truly the gift of our Creator (Kalizukai 12:6-7), and stop right before Mountains of Kalikemun, as it is said that the path now stands unyielding to any who have devoted their life to the great Him Who Gifts. I must digress, that certain pilgrims before my own birth have given their best and offered their lives on the journey as such is the call, but the popular opinion now stands and the waves of time flutter and falter. The main populace has forgotten the foundations of their being, devoting much of their time to politics, party rules, conflicts with the opposing views over trivialities, and the main perpetrator which plays any and all sides as a fiddle, claiming the great Kalizukai's legacy as their own; the Whole Pazumu See moves fingers and toes of any and all whom they approach.
By the neck they would have me if they could, but long ago I left the decrepit place of Tanzewa, and as the white of my eyes turns red, my hair turns gray and my bones yellow, I write this before I depart, should I not by the grace of Him Who Gifts taste the Velvet Honey, and ye who tasteth the fruits of my love shall grow seeds from thereon in thy soul (Book of Gifts 14:3-4), with His willingness I must therefore leave a piece of me before my attempt to see Him Who Sees us all, would I not move a soul as the lives of those who tasted the nectar wrote to us before their evident departure.
SCRIPT 2
As it stands, what I wish to write of is of course, of my own devotion to Him and the rejoice I felt when through His willingness I met Him, for if it weren't His will for me to find Him, that wouldn't have happened. Of my life before my rebirth, I haven't much to say. However, should we start after I first met Him and partook in the ritual the Dzana people specifically devoted as a thanks to His gifts, most would think it is too late of a starting point for a story befitting the grandiosity in which His truth lies within me. Therefore, let me begin shortly after I have become of age, just enough of age to be enlisted as a conscript for the then Great Zanmaku which would later be subjugated by the ever present and corrupted Tanzewa and its alliance with the WPS.
By His own grace and through His gifts, ye ought to know peace and love. As he loves thee and thy nature, thou shalt love thy enemy hereon, and if thy enemy hates thee, then thou shalt love him evermore (Book of Tsasuntsu (I Love Thee) 2:1-6); Yet I have not fully abided by His words. Forgiveness, I have given; but love, I have not. May I be forever condemned if I fail to find it before my End Journey is complete.
It is to be said that during this period of what was my life, could also be described as my very necessary experience of hell, right here on earth. Through it I saw souls full of compassion and joy turn inside out and degraded, butchered by the brutal surrounding. None was your friend, not even your 2nd Man Obliged (with whom it was common to practice honest brotherly relationship and strong loyalty) as many of those I have lost to despair, illness of mind caused by many great unfortunate events, or pure fear that one might die at any moment, and surely I thought I was next.
Before I have become to know Him truly, and to live through His Gifts reading the Kalizush Zefudzek (The Book of God's Nectars) the great works of our prophet Kalizukai, may he live in reverence infinite (Makuzeshi 19:5), I grasped only the vague concepts of love found in the immersion of the cultural norm. None were so deep and none were set in stone as it is in modern day society. Everything is run on subjective impressions, and later as one falls into the mutual sense of "love" and justice shared by your peers, you begin to lose your own true soul's love; one of His many gifts.
This however is great an enemy in the daily life, and the obscenities one can fight with when one begins to know Him. Nevertheless, this cannot be said the same for when one's own life is attached to a big man's string and is being controlled like a puppet. His fate's entirety is in someone else's hands and that someone, and ye will find love even for those who mayhaps take their own soul (Book of Tsasuntsu 2:15-16) is easy to both forget and lose your love for wrong people entirely, and to never heal the soul once your finally realize the real perpetrator of your own demise. That is why I cannot yet love those who seek only destruction and the violation of humanity for their own gain. But I place my love in Him and pray that, one day, I might find love for them as well.
I was assigned to a Second Artillery Regiment, and most of the time during the strife, I did not participate in man-to-man combat. I bear it in my heart with great sadness the amount of souls that might have been lost by my own hand's doing and I hold these souls in my prayer to this day. Our regiment was constantly on the move, and usually backwards into the country. The Coalition was too fast on the battlefield and if I may say with my limited knowledge of actual warcraft, their supply lines must have been better than ours, even in our own countries' land. Then the Great Zanmaku was primarily set up on the Tsekue delta with many of the delta's famous city states under its jurisdiction, with the then capital Zanmaku which proved to be the most prosperous city in the region.
The Great Zanmaku government body was filled with corrupt officials, ministers and kuzans, especially the kuzans. The rapid advancement of administrative technologies allowed for an influx of gaps within the system, and every person known to have served some kind of purpose in any government office, has used the position to his or her own power. With the inept politicians and government officials, came the freedom of Kuzans who di facta ruled the country by military law, hence could take most of the spoils of the country's booming economy to themselves.
The reason why I am writing all this is simple as this passage gives context as to why Zanmaku lost the war. The conflict itself could not be fought outside, when debauchery and decadence followed inside. Kuzans, once known as the fierce military leaders of the region, now lost their touch with their profession and calling to defend and secure their own people, and the ritualistic element gave way for modern Kuzans to be appointed by bloodline. In an ever growing and evolving modern world, such practice was seen as a weakness. Appointing military officials in other countries was based on election by merit and skill. The contrast couldn't have been more clear to those who wished for so very long to shake the tree and collect the fruits of Tsekue. The people knew this very well, and I once was part of those doubters, who spat and cynically devoured my soul with hatred towards them.
…
The fall of Zanmaku began slowly. First with the protests of factory workers, then the academia, soon after every department followed suit; lawyers, farmers, crafting guilds, trading guilds etc. The reason was simple: corruption and propaganda propped up the ruling officials, but the people of Tsekue were not so easily deceived. In the times when my grandfather Tozu still lived, city states were free. Monarchies and oligarchies alike ruled until lately, however with the new systems brought by the Denovrri colonizers, a crashing wave of change hit the region, and for the past 5 decades, nothing was ever the same. The teachings of Kalizukai were slowly abandoned and His gifts were not sought after; the people forgot quickly. This change was already evident during the time of my birth. That is why I knew Him by name and tradition only. Better said, I did not know Him at all.
SCRIPT 3
My days in the war were timid for the most part. We operated in shifts when the machinery was in use, as sometimes we could've been shooting for hours without stopping. The biggest problem that I developed was a vile ringing in my ears. After just a few weeks of deployment, I assume caused by the constant banging of the guns, my ears would not stop ringing. Even when we would relocate deeper into the country as our frontlines were being pushed fast and we would have to travel for days on end, the sound in my ears felt as if it would drill into my head so hard that I could not sleep properly. After some time I got used to it, but to this day, the ringing continues and tests my being. Sometimes it would become weak and I would forget about it even existing, but sometimes, especially when a sudden shift in weather occurs, my soul's tempest rages and all I can say is that it is very much challenging to follow His will and His love which he gifted upon me, even after my rebirth; shattered in pieces for my own flesh takes control over the soul, yet I fight still. If I could and had the bravest of heart, I would chop it right off (Oh Thee Who Sees, gift us yourforgiveness and love thy creations, even when they ought to hurt others and themselves, for your love is eternal and forgiveness forever binding (Book of Kaluza, 5:7-11)).
During the big retreat, I suffered greatly. My head was in a constant state of pumping and my temper, which would be then described as melancholic, had started deteriorating into sudden outbursts of shouting and constant nagging and bickering. I felt constantly on a verge of wrath, especially when complaints were made about how I performed my daily duties. I would hold most of the anger in me, but sometimes the spirit of Kunme (Wrath itself, one of the Fallen Fruits of His Own Gift) would take such strong possession of me, I'd even start yelling and shouting back at officers. Most of the higher-ups barely knew me, as I was seen as a timid soul amongst the lot. But my commanding officer, Kafur, took notice. May the souls of my own blood, and of those of whom I think beautifully yet do not share my blood, rest in peace forever in the greatest of sleeps beside Him (Book of Tsasuntsu 5:7-12). Kafur tried his best to ease my mind.
He was a kind soul. Too kind to have been found in the midst of that conflict and would often talk about how he misses his workshop and his wife and father. He went in his father's stead as the old man could barely walk (similarly to what I did as mine as well was too sick, my brothers still too young, but the law was such that each household which has a man seventeen of summers or greater, must appear before the closest military estate).
In his workshop, he made a lot of the pieces of armor not much unlike the ones we were wearing, and each of the pieces had a stamp. So, he would occasionally go on about and check for marks if any of it had his own whenever new recruits would join the regiment. When I joined, by sheer coincidence, the plate spaulder was in fact marked by him, with a small Dzekuwa sign for Tona (meaning strong) which matches the first part of my name after my Rebirth. My name was once Frisch, but since I delighted in His gift of Rebirth, I now enjoy a different name, Tonazan. I at the time thought of it nothing in particular, however he was saying that it was one of the gifts that had been sent by Him, as he clearly took a liking to me. Kafur himself was of Dzana descent so no wonder how even in those radically different times where faith and religion began to disconnect, he still thought about Him and prayed to Him daily. When I began to be on the verge of my nerves, he approached me one day, telling me he would add my name into his prayers and gave me a wooden ball which he wore around his neck. It was oddly deformed; honestly, not much like a ball at all. Its surface was covered in holes, scattered unevenly around all sides. Later I would find out that it symbolized a nest of bees from which the Velvet Honey was dripping on the Kalikemun peaks.
I carry it to this day, with fond memories of Kafur; he was my first true friend.
…
The slow, somewhat timid tide on my end of participation in this war, had turned into crashing waves by the end of it. From the regular routine that most of us partook in the Artillery Regiment, it was setting up the guns, calculating the distance and area, shooting in shifts, and then packing to move further west, deeper into the country. I don't remember which day exactly, but a dreadful morning it was, of that I am sure. Early on, the rain began pouring and I was already awake for most of the night, so I started packing as we were to set up to move at first light. I am not sure if it was rain and thunder, or the buzzing in my ears, or was it perhaps the slow thumping that I felt in the head, maybe the cursed combination of everything, but one thing was certain; I did not hear the shots.
Most of that day, I still cannot remember. When I try to recall it, I only see images of me running, slipping and everything being wet and muddy. When I came to my senses, the ringing in my ears was worse than ever. I lay down in a white bed, in white covers and in a white patient dress. It took me some time to realize what exactly had happened to me and my regiment. The zanfa who cared for me said they found me screaming in a cornfield. Loud enough, it seems, that the whole estate bore witness to my cries, making my discovery no difficult feat. The frontline hasn't reached them, so I myself was perplexed at how far I ran to have managed to crash down at a farm which wasn't yet abandoned. The zanfa gave me the names and the addresses of the people who brought me to the hospital in case I wanted to thank them. The idiocy of young people is that they always believe there will be another day to do something that they ought to do. By the time I "found time" to visit them and thank them for saving my life, they had already died. …and to those whom love hath not been given, I Who Gift will see to it; and to those who loved thou, yet ye had not loved back, I Who See will gift them love everbinding (Book of Gifts, 2:3-8).
SCRIPT 4
The end of the conflict came more quickly than how it began. As previously mentioned, and do forgive for not portraying a more linear narrative, it all started with mass protests against corruption of the state. The clutch of power held by Kuzans wavered, and the Zanmaku was starting to portray a weak image in international waters. That is why the Coalition, a unified front of the Kora and various Dzana city states, with the Tanzewa as the main perpetrator, declared a "holy" war against the Zanmaku. Kuzans cared little for the institutionalized religion and refused to play puppet for the Whole Pazumu See. The protests were still going strong and from what were initially peaceful demonstrations against the government, quickly turned into violent outbursts as soon as the war had begun.
At the time of these protests, I was a freshman at the University of Suhnfri-Tsunmuz, Department of Humanistic Sciences. With uncontainable excitement, I attended the first ten or so classes and participated in some assignments, but soon all of the universities shut down, declaring a country wide blockade. My heart yearned for knowledge, but it felt oddly compatriotic to have witnessed and participated in such an event. At least at the beginning, people brought only love, care and generosity believing that resorting to violence would make us no better than them. Factory workers held the same opinion, and students and professors were more than ready to help out. Each day, the number of people attending the walks throughout the city rose exponentially. However, the government did little to nothing to answer any of the demands, but the Kuzans felt their pockets being emptied the longer the people confronted them.
Soon after, violence erupted. The Kuzans deployed state workers in disguise, masquerading as common folk, to incite chaos—wrecking government property and clashing with the parapoi (policia). These acts alone were the final ember which the Kuzans wanted to ignite. It was a wicked poison that ran through the crowd. You could take a group of five to destroy an autocar, soon twenty or more would join; in a moment later, thousands are now vandalizing everything in their wake. The smell of burned plastic and rubber mixed with pepper spray was a boiling point for me. I ran so hard, afraid of what might have happened to me, and at nineteen summers I had little to no resolution. I was among the first to succumb to their rule of tyranny; a perfect example of what they wanted to impose on us.
This further developed the Coalition's claim as to why Zanmaku should be subjugated. Many of the protestors would join militias and people-defending fronts against the Kuzan's reign of terror; some would even go so far as to join the Coalition. Those who were more than afraid of what might have happened to them and their families, like myself, joined the mandatory conscription. After only two weeks of training, new recruits were hurled to the frontline; sent to their deaths, fighting for nothing, defending no one but their own oppressors. …in the days of darkness infinite, give not his love away; in the summers of opulence forget not his gifts He bestowed upon thee. (Kalizukai 5:21-24).
SCRIPT 5
(Missing Fragment)
…however the war ended abruptly. This was the beginning of my humble undertaking, as I met my Mazu (Moon) and, I as her Zo (Sun) shone during those summers ever brighter, only for her. She was also of Dzana descent, and I already saw the beauty of their belief through Kafur. He was a true Taradokka (trueway/right belief/orthodox), but the love she held for this despicable world was something beyond my understanding. She gave all of her spirit and strength of soul for everyone and everything, and she cared little for the evil in this world as by her own words: "I exist to love, and evil cannot come from me. Evil only exists there where love is not, therefore I try to be love itself, such as in His own liking. He Who Sees gifted it to us all."
These words struck me and I never quite understood how she managed to live up to those words which many preached from the books, yet none took it on their own to really act in His liking the way she did. To this day I am unable to love everyone and everything. I am spiteful, full of blood in my mouth and ever hungry to curse the souls which are far from His love; but who am I to judge their souls? Forgive me and bring unto me Your love oh You Who… (Gift) (missing text)assumedbut not written.
(Missing Fragment)
Her footsteps were light, her bright smile still evanescent but I remember it dearly as I tried writing a song in her mother tongue. To this day I still sing it.
SeTsamovu mafa tse sake dan mumu dzekiva:okuz
EsoTsu:pon tanzu tse sono, tsa ve da|
PesoZanfo safa tsa tsu ovo kue sun|
KasoToki maku tona toku"
Vasotoki mezud maku
Vasoponsetsa movu toku|
VasoponesoZanzi mazu lafai zo" zanzi mazu lafai zo|
Translation:
1We slowly hold hands and dance.
2Your (good?) warm hands are only for me.
3Now I swiftly kiss you.
4From earth strength comes,
5from soft earth
6we also come.
7On the day of the far Moon.