Landmarks of Old Euxinova

33.

AULDOMOUCHE. The mask was fully loaded with its charge: a massive dose of chloropallidol. The stench is overpowering. What possessed him to do this? His curiosity about certain matters must be far stronger than I knew.

SOPHELAIDE. His pulse is returning to normal but his gibbering is the same...

AULDOMOUCHE. It may remain so. With chloropallidol, the mind is not technically intoxicated; rather, it is coerced to perform oneiric processes, identical to dreaming sleep — even while conscious. The mask’s purpose may be to keep its subject in this state for an unusually long amount of time, or perhaps for good.

WILFRED. ...warmed by the air of a room. Meet with the queen at night, so that all wishful thinking in the daytime disappears. Answer quickly! Answer quickly! Two eye-holes in front of us...

32.

31.

THE SEVENTH AND FINAL ITEM INSPECTED: A COMMEMORATIVE SOUVENIR PLAQUE RECALLING A SHIPWRECK THREE YEARS PREVIOUS THAT CLAIMED THE LIVES OF SEVERAL EUXINOVAN NOBILITY (THOUGH NOT ALL OF THE BODIES WERE RECOVERED).

30.

THE SIXTH ITEM INSPECTED: A RESPIRATORY FACE MASK THAT APPEARS STYLED AFTER THE SKULL AND CARTILAGE OF A BALEEN GAZELLE (G. GAZELLA EDENTULATA) AND INCLUDES AT EYE LEVEL A GLASS RECEPTACLE CONTAINING AND MAGNIFYING A FLOATING ASSORTMENT OF MINIATURE FOSSILS.

WILFRED.         I understand that this does not reproduce the natural feeding processes of a baleen gazelle, nor could it to the wearer’s benefit. It does contain actual preserved “air plankton,” however, including the mallardfish spawn you just mentioned.

Surely it isn’t an aid for consumptives at all, but a certain rumored prototype (you know the one) that administers soporifics while flooding the patient’s vision with samples of the baleen gazelle’s diet. Supposedly, those tiny plants and creatures correlate with mythological typifications that can appear simultaneously in the thoughts of multiple individuals when their minds are united in deep sleep.

29.

THE FIFTH ITEM INSPECTED: A MECHANICAL TOY IN THE FORM OF A ROTUND GROTESQUE, FEATURING A BELLY CHAMBER THAT SPRINGS OPEN TO REVEAL SMALLER FIGURINES.

According to Euxinovan legends originating in the Roman era, Lapurnippas was appointed guardian of the nubile orphan Pampiphlorine, a scion of the oldest noble family of the island province of Thriampa. When bandits stormed the family seat, Lapurnippas hid himself in the woods and swallowed all of the gold bequeathed to his ward. This feat was possible because the old servant, faithful also to the forest god Arbrocomesus, had chosen to rest against a massive oak whose exposed roots bounded an ancient grove sacred to the deity. So long as Lapurnippas did not move from the spot, his health and safety would be sustained and his stomach could retain the treasure. It also served as a gold-lined conduit (accessible through his navel) to an underground sanctuary where Pampiphlorine and her attendants took refuge until the bandits were driven from the island. Before Lapurnippas rose again, certain unwelcome forest denizens, such as the parasite Coccidillio and the “bandit maiden” Plundribel, clambered inside his belly uninvited; their expulsion is the subject of several comedic fragments.

28.

THE FOURTH ITEM INSPECTED: A VESSEL MADE OF BLOWN GLASS AND SILVER, OPENING FROM THE BOTTOM, EQUILATERAL BUT FOR AN ORNAMENTAL FACE AND FILIGREE SPIRALS SUGGESTIVE OF A NAUTILUS SHELL.

Gewgaws of this general design can, at least in theory, be submerged while retaining air, by means of a principle observed by Aristotle (Problemata 32). They date from Antiquity and were originally understood to represent Pumphon, the tutelary deity of pirates (son of Mercury and the Nereid Pontoporia), who would often appear to mortals as the hybrid of an enormous cephalopod and a living ship helmed by mute, stunted figures. Well-preserved examples from the Roman era have been found among the ruins of the ancient canal city of Carqueviscum, in the center of the Black Sea.

SOPHELAIDE.      This odd jar is just like one I had as a child — they could almost be one and the same. I recall an excursion to Draephedusa, along the coast. My sisters and I had a mass of aniseed bonbons to share. I stole their portions and ran and hid in a half-flooded cave. I wasn’t so greedy as all that; I merely wanted a reason to test this magic receptacle, to hide a stolen treasure where no one could find it.

27.

THE THIRD ITEM INSPECTED: A BUST OF A WOMAN WITH AN ARTICULATED MOUTH AND MOVING GLASS EYES, POSITIONED IN FRONT OF A PANORAMA OF THE EUXINOVAN COASTLINE PAINTED ON A SPOOLED LINEN SCROLL.

WILFRED.    I recognize this exhibit from the Exposition. It runs hourly at the Central Pavilion — but there, a man beside the display delineates the visual tour, and no bust such as this is involved. It seems designed to mouth the narration like a puppet.

AULDOMOUCHE.    Its style and construction leave no doubt that it’s of the same manufacture as the automated sculptures found in the Parc d’Urongelex. Surely the noted entrepreneur Visculorph d’Urongelex wishes to expand the presence of these devices — and he has married into the financial means to accomplish this — yet I’ve noticed they are not readily embraced by the public outside of their pastoral-satirical sphere.

The characters all derive from Euxinovan myths and theatrical traditions, dating back at least to the Romans. (This figure is clearly no exception and Ovarind would have been able to tell us more about it.) Most seem obscure, unfamiliar to common audiences, and this might result in a slight sense of unease in the average spectator. I believe that of the dioramas operated by d’Urongelex in Ellubecque’s Paysage de Beau Monde, only the exhibit “Thriampa Revealed” (which is forbidden to children) features automatons.

26.

THE SECOND ITEM INSPECTED: A SABER HILT WITHOUT A BLADE, DATING FROM THE TENTH CENTURY.

During the Bulgar dominion of Euxinova, when Ellubecque had yet to be called Elbequond by the Byzantines, and was still known as Albaquadrum — though the Roman fortified camp of that name was long gone — a modest insurrection restored independence from the Tsar Simeon in a manner that would inform Euxinovan political strategy for centuries to come.

It began at a public ceremony, with the Bulgar praefect of the territory receiving a collection of gold as he had the year before. Quite unexpectedly, the man presenting the tribute produced a blade from his robes and slit the magistrate’s throat. At this, other innocuous figures revealed weapons and skills of their own, overcame the Bulgarian guard (who were only slightly superior in numbers and insufficiently surprised out of their indolence), took the city and claimed the contiguous regions as once again sole property of the Moesians, as the Euxinovans still were known. This revolt, as if by design, directly followed a spate of notable colonial investments by the Bulgars, who, considering this fecund valley a satellite to their own kingdom, had by then founded a library, built a royal palace, expanded upon Ellubecque’s burgeoning harbor structures, and added other improvements that would continue to benefit the usurpers.

It seems that the obscure parties who organized the rebellion obtained help from the semi-legendary Moesian bandit clans (still extant from their time of thriving symbiosis with the Roman landed gentry), for the praefect’s assassin is recorded as being the so-called “bandit prince” Rhauminogg. His famous saber bore an inscription on the blade —  REQUIRIT FUR SUIS REBUS TUERI — that became a maxim popular among historians and pragmatic nationalists.

25.

THE FIRST ITEM INSPECTED: A SCULPTED MODEL OF A RARE COELOBONESE FLOWER (R. CANDELABRUM) HOUSING AN ELECTRIC LAMP THAT CAME ALIGHT WHEN APPROACHED.

A close relative of the Indonesian Corpse flower, the jungle-dwelling Anajamut tinkar consists of a stemless, parasitic bloom, lacking roots of its own but subsistent on those of a lignified vine (the host in this case being the Tajamunugu grape, ibid.). Its name in Sulepawak means “dead dog’s ears,” as its fleshy petals (each up to half a yard long) taper like the ears of a Coelobonese toy boxer. While it gives off the same carrion odor as its relatives, this is often abated by another benign parasite: the Uburutan or Land jelly (P. terrestris), a coelenterate that, true to its name, is typically found out of water — albeit in very damp conditions. Its ideal resting place is the central cup of an Anajamut tinkar blossom, around which its wispy, barely visible tentacles can droop, ready to trap and devour Indomalayan buzzard midges that might otherwise chew away at the flower (ibid.) by stinging them with chemicals that, on contact with the plant’s flesh, will reduce its noxious odor. While the quelled stench might dissuade humans from destroying the flower, it remains perceptible to needed pollinators such as Carbuncle scarabs (ibid.) and their larvae — which the Uburutan spares.

On account of this union, an Anajamut tinkar can last longer than others of its kind, living up to a fortnight. Once every five days, however, the blossom is compelled to close, which can smother and possibly kill a tenant jelly.