Cedar Sanderson is doing N'inktober, so I'm going to follow along and do what I've been trained to do by the Raconteur Press Postcard books: come up with a story to match her visual prompts. I can't guarantee that I'll have a complete story for every image, but I'm going to at least try to come up with a scene, a start, or an idea!
Libram Seadragon
“I thought a libram was, well. A heavy book? Kind of tome-like?”
Dar rolled his eyes. “Ugh! That’s from Dungeons & Dragons, by way of Jack Vance. Who knows where he got it from. No. A libram is a balance - a pair of scales. In this case, a very special pair of scales.”
He nudged the balance. It was made from fine gold that practically glowed in the crackling light from the fireplace in the University faculty lounge. The sea dragon curled around the top of it glinted, reflecting that same light from the miniscule diamonds that adorned it.
I ran my finger over the dragon, feeling the cool smoothness of the diamonds. “Scales on the scales. Very clever.” I sat back in my overstuffed chair and cocked my head. “So it’s a fancy scale. Balance. Whatever. It looks nice and valuable. Still - I’m not quite sure why you think it’s something to be excited about.”
Dar sat back and steepled his fingers, the way that he always did when he was sure of himself. “Because it’s not just a fine set of scales, Oscar. It’s the fine set of scales. One of the final creations of Roger Bacon. Based on the studies of Khalid ibn Yazid, who in turn learned from the lost scrolls of Simeon bar Yochai.”
I pursed my lips, making a show of considering. The fire crackled, flames dancing in Dar’s eyes. After a calculated moment I shrugged, slowly and nonchalantly. “So a bunch of dead guys worked on it?”
Dar chuckled. “Philistine. I know you recognize those names.”
I snorted. “Fine. A bunch of dead philosophers, alchemists, and kabbalists.”
Dar leaned forward and tapped the dragon lightly, causing the scales to sway. “This scale isn’t just the most accurate in existence. Under the right circumstances, it can measure the difference not just between objects, but between anything.”
“Which - if I may be so bold - is exactly what a balance is supposed to do. So, I’m still not quite sure…”
Dar held up a hand. “When I say anything, Oscar, I mean anything. Ideas. Concepts. Emotions.” He paused. “Righteousness.”
Despite the warmth of the fire, a chill ran down my spine. “Do you mean…”
He nodded slowly. “Mene, mene, tekel, upharsin. These are an earthly representation of the scales that the Almighty used to judge Belshazzar, king of the Chaldeans.” He winked. “Supposedly.”
“Well, now. That’s certainly a bit more interesting than a functional bit of jewelry. I’m not in the market to have my soul judged, though, so I’ll repeat my inquiry: why do you think it’s something to be excited about?”
“Winter break is almost upon us. How many papers do you have to grade, again?”
I groaned. “Please, don’t remind me! Far too many. I got saddled with six classes this semester. It will take me all of Christmas break to get them graded.”
Dar nodded sympathetically. “Likewise. Old Stillworth really loaded us down, didn’t he? I’d got a good six score students of my own.” He sighed. “It’s a shame we don’t have an incredibly fast and easy way to judge the relative worth of any two papers.”
He raised an eyebrow. We both studied the balance carefully.
“It would be rather nice to spend time with the family this year,” I said thoughtfully. “Does seem a bit like using an alchemists stone as a door stop, though.”
“Oh, fiddlesticks,” Dar said. “That was only once, until we could get the door fixed.”
We met each other’s eyes and nodded once, together.
“We’ll use it to sort out truth and beauty and all that, right?”
“Oh, absolutely! Absolutely!” Dar smiled. “After winter break, though.”
Hahahahaha. Love it. Fun. As well as the ref to their doorstop.
This is such a fun exploration of meanings and etymology with some fine levity at the end.