Eternal Cultivation Of Alchemy

“Desert person?” Alex asked. “I’m afraid I am not that, but I do understand this language. Do people in the desert speak this thing you call the Center Language?”

The old woman looked at him, seemingly having trouble understanding him.

‘I spoke too many words,’ Alex thought.

“I am not from the desert.”

The old woman took a moment to take it in and nodded. “But you know Center Language.”

“I do.”

The old woman considered his words. “Where come from?”

Alex wondered how he was going to tell her that he came from another world. Could she even understand that there were other worlds? What if she thought he was mad and refused to listen to him at all?

“Far away,” Alex said, choosing not to disclose everything. “Where is this place?”

“East. We are tribe,” the woman said. “For Kajalil.”

Alex frowned. “Kajalil?”

“Uh… how you say… beach masters.”

“Okay… your people are the beach masters?” Alex asked. This was clearly a tribe, and each tribe usually had a name to define themselves. It made sense they would call themselves something like that.

The woman nodded.

Alex could tell that the woman wasn’t proficient in what she called the Center Language. ‘Do only people in the desert speak it?’

The girl quickly said something to Alex, which the old woman translated. “What is your name?”

“Alex.”

The young girl gasped suddenly, her eyes widening in fright. She quickly put her fingers into her ears and began spitting to the side. Even the old woman seemed shaken.

Alex was confused. “What’s wrong with my name?”

The old woman shook her head. “Bad name. Bad name.”

“Bad? Why is it bad?”

“Name words must match sound. Otherwise bad.”

“…What?”

The old woman placed a hand on her chest. “I am Lala. This girl Mili. Name word sound same. Understand?”

Alex narrowed his eyes. He thought he got it but couldn’t be certain.

“This girl sister name Mumu. Her other sister name Soko. Her mother name Para. Her father name Shaka. Understand?”

Alex slowly nodded. He finally understood. Each of their names was made of two syllables, each one with the same vowel, making the two syllables have the same sound.

“Why is it bad if the sounds don’t match in my name?” Alex asked.

“No question. Just bad.”

“I see,” Alex said. ‘So, superstition. Great.’

“Don’t speak your name to others. Some get very angry if name bad.”

Alex nodded. “Can you help me learn your language? I need to be able to communicate with others easily.”

“Learn our language?” the old woman asked. “That take many years. You cannot learn easy.”

“Don’t worry, I am a quick learner.”

The old woman seemed troubled. She didn’t want to teach him for some reason. Alex wondered if it was because he was an outsider or if it was because she didn’t trust him very much just yet.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” he said.

“No, I want to,” the old woman said. “But I can’t stand long. Old woman has bad back.”

Alex quickly got off the bed. “Please sit down or lie down. I don’t want you to be in pain.”

“But you’re wounded. I can’t.”

“No, it’s alright. I’m fine. I can handle this,” Alex quickly said. “Can you tell everyone that they don’t need to worry about me? I am fine. I may look injured, but I am perfectly fine.”

The old woman took a moment to understand all of that and finally nodded. She sat on the bed and lay down on it.

Alex sat on the sand and waited for her to start teaching.

They started with simple words and moved on to more complex ones as the hours passed.

The old woman would stop from time to time to quiz Alex on whether he really did remember anything and would be surprised each time to see that he did remember exactly what the word was.

She was stunned by his memory.

Slowly, she began moving away from his language and started speaking in her own language, which she was far more comfortable in. Alex had to consciously translate each word in his mind to understand what she was saying, but that work was needed for him to get used to the words.

By the time evening rolled around, Alex had more or less understood many of the common words and could speak them as well. He still couldn’t grasp the grammar, but words alone would be enough for him to communicate with the others.

As Alex communicated, he finally found out from the little girl how he was found.

“I was inside of a fish?” he asked.

“Yeah. You would have died if Tara didn’t save you,” the girl said. “Although, he was only trying to complete the ceremony, so it was an accident anyway.”

“I will,” Alex said. He found it hard to believe that he was inside a fish’s guts. What would have happened to him if they hadn’t saved him?

“Also, your name is bad. You should consider changing it,” the young girl said as she sat next to the old woman.

“It’s a name my parents gave me. I can’t just change that, can I?” Alex asked.

“It’s bad though,” the girl said.

“Why?”

“Because you have different vowels in your name, obviously.”

“And why is having different vowels in my name bad?” Alex asked.

The girl tried to speak, but there was no retort to that. It was a superstition, after all, so the only reason it was bad was because it was bad. They had no reasoning to go along with it.

“I’m leaving!” the girl said and got off the bed. “I need to go help everyone else with the feast.”

“The feast?” Alex asked, looking at her. “What is the feast for?”

“My sister is getting married tonight,” the girl said excitedly. “We’re going to eat a lot!”

Alex raised his eyebrows. “Marriage? I have come at an opportune time then. Let me enjoy the feast as well. Let me know if there is any way for me to help with it.”