To Talk To Yourself

Chapter I: A Visit for New Fishes

Hydaermissia, Day X, Month I, MDCCCXII.

For the last five days, I have told you the journey I had with my sister of common ground, the silent Pulcheria, and one of my bubbly younger brothers, Venox, whom I can only connect with by the means of non-verbal mystical communications that still confuse me, the corresponding user, until this very day, to a quite large pond around the beautiful valleys at the east side of our home town of Hydaermissia. There were many fishes around, big and small and of magnificent colours.

I decided to take a few with me home and my siblings decided to do the same. However, I must tell you, my delusion's future readers, of my brother's questionably weird choices. He picked the smallest ones whose shapes are strangely common but which similarity, sadly, I cannot exactly tell. (I still feel to this very second that the common bigger ones I have bravely caught for myself are, mostly, superior to those of his minimalist taste but I also have several praises in mind.) His choice for those tiny creatures originally stemmed from the fact, as what our caretakers deign to tell us, that these multicolour fishes originate in the far orient - The lands of glorious beauty and exoticism - and as of late, many people fancy them as the most attractive pets that they can get their hands on. I seriously doubt any of them will live for more than two weeks considering the fragility of them, small ponds that often result in them to die in boredom, and treacherous hands of young children who more often than not will try to swallow them whole.

Alas, these little common fishes will have to try with all their might to make me pity them even with those pitiful reasons above because I will not quarrel with Venox lest I will face his destructive ability to annoy me even in my sleep! It is seriously good these days that good Magister Aemilius Magnus of Mathematics decided to focus on him more, as of late, Venox's six hands - four of them invisible but extraordinary - appear to be more docile. I shall check his condition latter if my observation of him this morning is still true.

Back to the main point of this evening's entry. This morning, I decided to ask my good sister, Pulcheria, and my other good-behaving beautifully-named brother, Nerius Numerius, of appropriate names for three of my most beautiful fishes as I will, seriously forgot their continuing existence if I and my siblings cannot come up with the most memorable of names. I cannot propose anything for them to consider as I will only come up with the most boring ones that I will forget it by myself. My Pulcheria, as the most brilliant of us siblings, is the most talented in such things and I have long decided to become the protector of her naming reputation by ensuring that all living things besides humans in our expanding neighbourhood to be named by her. I am happy to announce to you that it was just last week that my Pulcheria has named three puppies owned by one of our neighbours whose son's name was not known to me until now because of how socially active he is.

My Pulcheria decided to propose me three names, they are; Arruns for the biggest fish as we all agreed that he will be the ruling-prince of all our living fishes with the four of us siblings as absolute rulers, Uchtave, for the second as it was the eighth fish we caught that good day, and for the last, Volesus, for the fact that we find its desire for complete peace good enough that the initial boredom that we experienced during the first five minutes of watching it quickly wore off.

After a last-minute intellectual discussion among us good-natured children, we decided to use Pulcheria's fantastic names for my fishes and then seek those three fishes so that we can bestow these good names unto them personally. While we were there, I found that good Magister Aemilius Magnus was there also by the pond with my brother who studied so intensely that I believe his eyes will crawl out sooner or later. As I praised my brother's promising skills in acting, we decided to not bother them in fear that the good magister will try to offer us those horrific numbers and detoured to the main hall where we decided to visit the fishes later this night.

I am truly grateful for my nagging mother that she has deigned to deliver us three from the terror of those condemning formulas, given us these fanciful fishes, and assigned us to a new tutor that will arrive tomorrow. Although my siblings hope for the archetypal bearded man of wisdom, I just hope for a younger able-bodied prominent scholar that can highlight how different two tutors can be if one has enough bravery to tell us so, out loud.

Truthfully Yours, 

Caeso.