Hnedu stirred the vat of papyrus gently with the wide, flat oar, inscribed from top to blade with prayers to Seshat, she who brings wisdom. Automatically, the words for preservation, for gentleness fell from his lips. It would not do to break the slips of reed, for that would waste all his work, along with the other boys', as they pounded and sliced pile after pile of reeds. Today, he would graduate from this task, which he had borne for four years, the work shaping his spindly little body into something almost like his master, Mornim's.
Hnedu had just gained his fourth adult tooth, marking him as ready for Seshat's bounties. He had today been allowed to carry the vat of damp reeds, each as wide as his thumb and as long as his arm from elbow to wrist, but so thin he could see a glow when he held it toward Ra's all-seeing eye. He had placed his bare feet on the brick floor of the main workroom for the first time, leaving behind the cluster of boys whose bare-shaven heads even now bent over a new bundle of reeds as they stripped off the green husk.
He could hear his master kick out of his sandals, and nearly jumped in shock. Why, he was practically /naked/! Hnedu held still, lifting the paddle so carefully that none of the liquid spilled onto the floor. Not even a drop. His breath eased out as his heart slowed back to normal.
Mornim leaned over the copper vat, nodding to himself. He was as wrinkled as a date, and nearly as dark, but his eyes glowed with secrets. He moved to stand behind Hnedu, lifting up the painted frame, for the first time allowing Hnedu to touch the pale linen, sun-bleached and taut.
“Today, Hnedu, you will make parchment. When it is dry, you will write a prayer of gratitude to Seshet, burn it, and those ashes will be shaped into your first scroll along with the reeds. Attend me well, boy, for this task is not for the indolent or foolish. Scribes have exacted terrible, terrible punishments on those who make faulty paper.”
Hnedu swallowed hard, fighting back the urge to flinch. He was too low-born to ever become a scribe, but Mornim taught him a new prayer every day. Every day a new symbol. He would make paper, and when he had finished his first scroll, he would be a man.
Re: Prompt /FILLS/-yesterday's cutting edge
Hnedu had just gained his fourth adult tooth, marking him as ready for Seshat's bounties. He had today been allowed to carry the vat of damp reeds, each as wide as his thumb and as long as his arm from elbow to wrist, but so thin he could see a glow when he held it toward Ra's all-seeing eye. He had placed his bare feet on the brick floor of the main workroom for the first time, leaving behind the cluster of boys whose bare-shaven heads even now bent over a new bundle of reeds as they stripped off the green husk.
He could hear his master kick out of his sandals, and nearly jumped in shock. Why, he was practically /naked/! Hnedu held still, lifting the paddle so carefully that none of the liquid spilled onto the floor. Not even a drop. His breath eased out as his heart slowed back to normal.
Mornim leaned over the copper vat, nodding to himself. He was as wrinkled as a date, and nearly as dark, but his eyes glowed with secrets. He moved to stand behind Hnedu, lifting up the painted frame, for the first time allowing Hnedu to touch the pale linen, sun-bleached and taut.
“Today, Hnedu, you will make parchment. When it is dry, you will write a prayer of gratitude to Seshet, burn it, and those ashes will be shaped into your first scroll along with the reeds. Attend me well, boy, for this task is not for the indolent or foolish. Scribes have exacted terrible, terrible punishments on those who make faulty paper.”
Hnedu swallowed hard, fighting back the urge to flinch. He was too low-born to ever become a scribe, but Mornim taught him a new prayer every day. Every day a new symbol. He would make paper, and when he had finished his first scroll, he would be a man.