It was tough. Focusing on Noel’s lips as she said two words over and over again. Terrible. The Terrible. Terrible. The Terrible. Over and over, dozens of times. Clouds drifted in front of the moon, which definitely didn’t help.

The two sounds she seemed to be making were very similar. They were variations of a “sa” sound. For “Terrible,” she brought her tongue to the top of her mouth, near the roots of her teeth, and then blew some air while removing the tongue.

For “The Terrible,” her tongue was closer to the tips of her teeth before she blew the air, making what I assumed would be closer to a “tha” sound. I couldn’t actually hear the sounds she was making though, since it would just become “Terrible” and “The Terrible.”

“What are we missing?” I asked myself, rubbing my temple.

“Maybe I should describe the words?” said Noel.

“Describe them?” I said. “Right, maybe that will will help.”

Noel defined “Terrible” as a storm, an earthquake, a great disease. It was used to describe something that caused sadness and pain, and which frightened the average elf. “The Terrible” was a great being that was central to her tribe’s coming of age ceremony. Noel had to go inside the cave of The Terrible to receive its judgment. She would either receive its blessing or be cursed. The curse of The Terrible was the kind of thing adult elves used to frighten their kids, so it made sense that it was associated with sadness and pain.

Hearing the definitions didn’t help much. It only confirmed how “Terrible” could be used to describe things but “The Terrible” was the name of a specific being. But that still didn’t explain why it wasn’t being translated as “The Terrible One.”

“They sound so similar,” I said. “That makes me think your people used to use the same word for both things. Maybe the descriptive word changed over the years but the name stayed the same?”

“But why wouldn’t they both change?” asked Noel.

“I don’t know. Honestly, this whole thing has me stumped. The only thing I’ve figured out is that this symbol,” I said, circling the word in the center of my drawing in the mud, right above the cave, “means Terrible or The Terrible.”

The symbol looked like a thunderstorm with clouds made of lightning. None of the other symbols had storm imagery, and Noel’s first thought had been to use the word “Terrible” to describe storms.

But I was still no closer to deciphering this language. And if I didn’t figure that out soon, Noel might go inside that obviously dangerous cave, begging some evil monster for a blessing.

“Hey,” I asked Noel, “what is the blessing for anyway? Safe hunts? Less disease? More children?”

“No, The Terrible’s blessing is a sacred energy, one that gives and takes life,” said Noel.

“Energy? Like magic?” I asked.

“Yes, like magic. It is bright and powerful, capable of consuming almost everything,” she said.

“That’s surprising. What do you use it for?” I said.

“We use it for many things,” said Noel, “but its most important use is protection. The blessing frightens the many beasts and monsters that roam the plains, keeping our people safe.”

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“That does sound important,” I admitted. Since this seemed to be a world with elves and magic, having something to keep away the monsters was probably really important. It made sense why the elves revered The Terrible and why they were willing to risk their lives to bring back its blessing.

“I assume this energy doesn’t last forever, which is why people like you have to go get it,” I said.

“Actually, the blessing never fades as long as we feed it,” said Noel, “but since each elf can only get one blessing in their entire lives, and only when they are at the cusp of adulthood, everyone has to come receive their personal blessing.”

“Wait,” I said, “you mean you don’t have to risk your life here?”

“I,” began Noel, “I do. The tribe won’t be destroyed by monsters if I fail to bring back my blessing, but the great Oracle would condemn me. I would be banished from my tribe and none of the other tribes would accept me.” Noel looked away. She was leaning against a tree, drawing circles in the dirt with her simple fur shoes.

An Oracle, huh? The Oracle might be some kind of religious or spiritual leader respected by all the tribes. Reminded me of Achebe’s Things Fall Apart, although I hoped this oracle wasn’t as murderous. Can’t believe something my literature major roommate made me read might come in handy in real life. But then again, this wasn’t real life, it was fantasy.

“Hang on,” I said, “you said the blessing doesn’t fade as long as you feed it, right? Why can’t your tribe just keep feeding their existing blessings? Is the thing you feed it really hard to find or precious in some other way?”

“No, not really. We usually just feed it wood,” Noel said.

Wood?

“Noel,” I began.

“Yes?” she said.

“Is this blessing, a little red and yellow, with some blue parts?” I said.

“Yes,” she said.

“Does it flicker and dance, especially when there’s a wind blowing?” I said.

“Yes, yes it does,” she said.

“Noel.”

“Yes?”

“Is the blessing of The Terrible, fire?”

Noel blinked. “Why are you asking if the blessing of The Terrible is a blessing?”

Great. Their word for fire was blessing. Wonderful. Just wonderful. I rubbed my forehead, feeling all my hard work trying to decipher a foreign script through reason and linguistic analysis go down the drain. If this was going to be resolved like this, I should have asked her about the blessing earlier!

It didn’t make any sense. Fire was a very old invention, older than clothes and shoes. For Noel’s tribe to be relying on The Terrible for fire was weird as hell. What about natural fires, like from lightning strikes? And surely they figured out flint based fire starting methods centuries ago, right?

Was there something different about elves? Had this being called The Terrible somehow tricked the elves or stunted their normal technological growth? Was there some other kind of conspiracy, one led by this great Oracle, maybe? Either way, I knew what I had to do.

“Hey Noel,” I began, “go find an old bird’s nest. And grab some sticks too while you’re at it!”