There is no doubt that the Nashi were descendants of the Vyaraishi. They were deserters. The reason could be one of many.
I personally subscribe to the opinion that the denouncing of the free form arts that birthed the revolt of the artists, also sowed the seed of dissent. And this seed germinated as desertion. The opinion explains so much.
If the group of disillusioned artists started from home around the time of the revolt, by the time they made it to the Hyngraves, the war would have begun. By the time they climbed to the peak, Vyaraishi had fallen. And the time they made home, matches the time of birth of the Nashi.
I am just as certain that all study of the Nashi begins with Ryirawra. Not just owing to the similarities in our circumstances, but plainly because Ryirawra's circumstances open up a window to the core of the Nashi sensibility.
Ryirawra couldn't leave her room. Her interaction with the world was limited to the little the open window offered. All she saw, every day and every night, was the vastness of the heavens riding the ever flowing clouds. The view of an insignificant life form awed by the grandeur of the world, impressed by the majestic creation.
Nashi runes show an upward view, like looking up at the endless heavens from the depths of a bottomless well. So much is seen. So much is felt. At such a personal level. And yet, everything is so distant. So unreachable.
The absence of colour, a complete opposite to the Vyaraishi, is a defining feature of the Nashi runes. The gradient of white the runes are drawn entirely in, instead displays a range of depth that is impossible in any other pictorial rune. It is in this depth, I believe, that the true meaning is buried. The philosophical roots that birthed Nashi bear fruit in the structure and design of the runes, and the style of expression.
But that leaves a question unanswered. Although, I call this the first notebook, it is the last. It is the notebook I believe one should start with, to understand my work. To understand my fervour for the Nashi.
The question, the mystery that remains unsolved to the end, why the heavens are so important?
**
I wasn't at the end of the first notebook. I couldn't be further from the last notebook on the table. Dinah was a wonderful writer. I was truly engrossed. But I couldn't continue. Not after reading the question.
Why were the heavens so important? I had to know.
I already felt something for Nashi, from Dia's words for it. Dinah's passion left a deep impression, fuelling my need to learn, and understand for myself.
I left the table. Walked to the nearest wall. Started with the first set of runes.
**
Father and mother talk of seasons. They weren't born at home, like I was. They came from a different home, from below. They are among the few who talk about the yesterday. I am among the even fewer they speak freely in front of. They say I am special. Like an untainted cloud.
There are no seasons. There are just the clouds beneath, that keep seasons below. There are the heavens above. Our homes in between. With wind, our friend. Cold. Close. Warm. And there is also joy.
**
We are born under the vast and clear heavens. We are the first generation. We are gods. And we are mortal subjects. We are stories. We are feelings. We are everything. We are nothing.
The contradiction is what we are.
**
The heavens bear the greatest evidence of duality. Blue and bright, representing awakeness. Dark and sparkling, representing openness. Blue showing what we see with our eyes, taste and feel with our bodies. The brightness lighting the trail we walk upon. Dark leading onto the narrower and infinitely scarier paths inward, to distorted reality. The sparkling with just enough flashes of sight.
What rests above and what lies below, sum up to what is in between, to what and where we are.
**
The feet of birds are what they rest on. The wings are what they ride upon. As our hands are what we stand on. Our feet are what take us where we need going.
The wind carries the wings. As it strengthens our feet.
The heavens strengthen the feet. As they hold our hands.
**
"You're scaring even those academic types," Pratt said suddenly, startling me.
I hadn't realised when he came to stand by me. He wasn't alone either. Jerry was by his side. Dia by mine.
Recognising the blankness of my face, Pratt explained himself.
"You've been staring at the wall for a while now. A few hours to be a little more precise. No notebook in hand. No blinking. Almost no breathing. Truly, quite frightening. Those academic types are already weak willed. They were expectedly terrified."
"It's really interesting," I replied.
He nodded. It was just nodding, at first. But he flashed with understanding as he continued to nod.
"What do you see?" Dia asked, changing the conversation entirely.
"What did Dinah mean when she mentioned similarities in circumstances between her and Ryirawra?" I asked in reply.
"Both had conditions that held them indoors."
Dia couldn't explain further. She didn't have to. Pratt went over to her side, put his arm around her and held her close.
Jerry was looking at the wall. But I could feel his eyes on me. The twins didn't know. Jerry did. The twins couldn't understand. Jerry did.
We were in silence, as we stared at the wall.
"I think I understand," I said, after a while.
"Understand what?" Pratt asked.
"The importance of the heavens."
My words were like a bomb dropped. Jerry and the twins stared at me in almost exaggerated shock.
It was Dia who found her voice first.
"What?"
It was all she could manage.
"I think I understand the importance of the heavens," I repeated. "In the runes. To Ryirawra."
"Explain," Dia said.
I nodded.