world of names – xenoglyph

Aga, the River-Straightener

Aga, with the coruscated head of an eagle, is charged with the destiny of straightening the rivers so they can’t wander away and change the landscape from the way it was created by the Great Names before they entered their slumber.

Habah, Father of Behabah

Hebah is the father of Behabah, who drank the Lake Pehemeh when challenged by Atam. We also know Hebah as the Shepherd, for he stole herds of Earthen-Beings from Mash and Bu — first to make them jealous, and then because he enjoyed their taste.

The Giant, Ush

The Age of Giants ended generations ago. The Great Names desired to sleep, and so made them to fight on their behalf , crafting them from wind and fire and water .

They drew water from the Waters of Heaven and the Waters of the Underworld and made it the blood of the veins of the Giants. They hewed their skin from stone and copper and wood. The fire of their spirits shone through their eyes and nostrils. Each was different from the others, graven or molded or birthed from Great Names for a purpose.

Salt

The Gulabadam sat crosslegged on a rug in the shade. His thick tail, freshly brushed, rested demurely in the expanse of his lap and tinkling laughter rode on the sound of lapping oasis water in the air. Over his horns hung a large dyed and embroidered abaya, silver bells hanging from it like glittering berries. With the aid of two tent poles, it hung into a lush lean-to against the open side of the grand, opulent tent before him.

Aghuur is Ready for Walkies

The Khuashtunng live far in the north of the world, though they speak the same language as the Furrush who live in many cities along the Great Road. They are known in the Center of the World as the Riders of Akum, whose giant bird steeds eat meat.

Aghuur is the favored steed of Ngatekhuur Pakhu, who raised her from an egg. And today they leave to hunt mountain goats together for a few days. They’re both excited about the trip.

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Modular systems are a function of industrial society. But do people of The Fifth World still know how to agree to standards? With their acute interest in efficiency, I think they might have carried that lesson forward!

Zurrurma Makes her Escape

In flight from her own cult, Zurrurma, High Priestess of her people, breaks free. The Moon — the Wounded Left Eye of the Sky of Teleb — has granted her its aid. But she must return the favor.

That Which Is Made to Give

We here in 2019 in the post-colonial late-stage Capitalist Earth are really hooked on the idea of money. But it’s not an obvious idea, and modern economists even have a hard time describing what it is.

The World of Names is big and Earthen-Being are small; While the Giants strode across it like a single field; and to the Descendants of Heaven all distances are as one; to even the boldest Earthen-Being, the reach of their life is like a single poppy seed in a field stretching far past the reach of the eye.

And so, when an Earthen-Being has a desire and does not wish to force its satisfaction, what have they to trade in foreign lands that those recognize as worthy of the satisfaction of that desire?

Money, or things that we think of as money: a stone weight in the form of a grasshopper; two links of golden chain of which only 1000 were ever wrought; three glass rings to be worn in the hair of those honored by the previous bearer. — Clockwise, from left: two of the thousand links of gold chain wrought by the famed smith, Shebahfzu; a stone grasshopper used by the Gashab Family of merchants, inscribed with the sigil of the family; and three glass rings used by the Jigham people of the Western Desert, worn woven into the hair and clothes, and given to show honor.

Tiamut, Mother of Chaos, Womb of Salt

Among the Great Names, none are as dread, nor as venerated, as that of Tiamut, who taught the Earthen-Beings right from wrong that they might rebel against the Giants and taught them writing so that lies would persist as long as truths.

It has been difficult to portray her. Tiamat, from whom I draw inspiration, is described in two ways: the salt water mother whose union with the fresh waters of the rivers birthed the world; and as a terrifying monster described only in glimpses that usually sound like a sphynx with the head of a lion, hands of a human, wings of an eagle, and udders.

Since Labiasam is the Mother of Sea Monsters in the World of Names and I wish to be faithful to the mythological feeling of the setting, I’m being completely unclear about which is what.

That said, here she is in my first decent sketches. I think she will be something like this in the final. I’m making her features just slightly human, but I don’t want her to quite be personable. The character I’m keeping in my mind is that she’s like a 50-year-old woman, who’s had her kids who have grown up and now she, more than anyone, knows how absolutely everything works.

My favorite canonical feature of Tiamat, by the way, is the pomegranate of wisdom growing out of her head, echoing the Forbidden Fruit of Gan Eden (do your research, Christians!) and Persephone’s pomegranate that makes her retreat each year, bringing winter.

Bahamut, whose Stride Spans the Horizon

I was having a hard time illustrating Bahamut, so I needed to figure out its physiology. Were one to back up against the Vault of Heaven, this might be what you would see far below, somewhere. How this beast manages to hide is a deep mystery. It surely does not want to be found.

Hanta, the Sacrificial Pharaonic Oarsbearer

The World of Names writhes with living promises, the words of Namedealers plying the whims and vanities of the mighty forces of nature.

But Hanta has made a promise to enter the Waters of the Underworld. To most, that would be a simple condemnation to death. And Hanta is fairly certain that for her, it is, too.

What matter, the splendor worn on the body if they are worn only to enter the Waters of the Underworld?

As she rows downstream, dressed in the splendrous ceremonial regalia of an escort of the Pharaohs, she broods on her fate, bound she is by a complex knot of long-held promises — a knot pulled tight by generations of treaties spun by the priests, astrologers, and magicians of Misr with the river; with the Sky that covers it with its unblinking eyes; with the towns and ports that seed its shores with life; with vassal kings and heroes.

Losing hope, she accepts the offer of the young, pretty courtesan Tinkari for companionship.

…and to uncover what transpires between them, you will need to read Hugo-nominated author Mimi Mondal’s tale, detailed in the pages of the upcoming Bloody-Handed Name of Bronze! Of course, like all of my work, you will be able to see it first as a patron of my work at my Patreon!