Chapter Text
Mariah hasn’t spoken of any of her plans with us, yet, so we’ve been free to speculate. Our best guesses all lie somewhere in the vague intersection of what she wants and what won’t get her caught. This probably excludes anything too explosive or anything so painful that we can’t not make noise. We hope. Being a Vapulan, that still leaves Mariah lots of options for non-explosive experimental torture. Certain kinds of weapons testing, splicing us with another kind of artifact (if we’re lucky) or being (if we’re not), picking off bits and pieces of our soul bit by bit to examine under a microscope, so on, so forth. If she spends enough time not telling us, we’re sure we could come up with more examples.
Right now, her focus seems to be on a more mundane concern.
We hear Mariah struggle with an object, not so large or heavy that anything scrapes the floor but awkward enough that she has to enter the room in stages and heavy enough that it gets set down with a respectable thud and then slid into place. Something surrounds us that dampens the ambient sounds. The near omnipresent overhead scritching of claws on metal becomes inaudible. We can barely parse the small, fiddly sounds—components snapping into place, dials turned, switches flipped—that Mariah makes while she sets up some apparatus.
“It’s a preliminary exercise to assist with communication,” Mariah explains in English. Her voice passes muffled through the sound-dampening barrier she set up, but enough of us strain to focus on her voice to parse the words out. “The quicker you learn the required material, the better everything else will go.” She pauses and then clarifies, “For the both of us.”
“How will I know when I’ve learned?” we ask.
Instead of an answer, we hear a click and some static, like a magnetic tape running through a player. What we’re going to be generous and describe as ‘sounds’ start to play through tinny speakers. Unlike every other noise, these ‘sounds’ aren’t muffled through a barrier. They’re in here with us. (Not ‘here’ as in the force catcher, ‘here’ as in under the same barrier.) They play for a short time. Then we hear a word in the Angelic language, a shiny beacon of comprehension in this fog. There’s no great meaning to it. It’s just the self-referential pronoun (I, we, or however we [individual angels] choose to refer to ourselves as individuals when speaking) disconnected from any other context. Then that dubious sound again, with a significant pause after.
The sequence then starts over with a different sound, an Angelic word without context, repeat of the initial sound, pause. And then a third.
Through all of this, Mariah doesn’t say anything else. It’s possible she’s not even in this room anymore, since the noise inside drowns out the sound of most things outside it. We ask again, louder this time.
Sharp metal points tap against a hard, plasticky surface. It’s a muted sound, but nevertheless, it’s a sign of life and occupancy. “Well, Kira, I suppose you’ll know when the Dissonance hits.”
Oh. She’s teaching us Helltongue.
—
We make zero claims of expertise here with regards to how the Celestial Languages work.
Maybe there are a few of us [angels] in Creation who specialize in linguistic concepts like neologisms or constructed languages (maybe even to the point of having actual angels Word-bound to those concepts!), and could speak fascinatingly at length about the topic. We’re not one of them. Words in general were never our specialty. And the all of Wordmates we know who do work with words treat their chosen languages as more of a medium rather than an art in its own right.
We [I] figure servitors from other Words are in a better position to study and appreciate the nuances and function of language among angels and demons both, and thus develop specialized knowledge in that field: Destiny. Lightning. Certainly Knowledge before she passed. We can think of Servitors from other Words who might undergo study for more specific reasons: Revelation, Judgment, War (but not the Sword; we can’t imagine anyone from that Word compromising so far), even those possible Neologists or Conlangers we might have in Creation.
In any case, there’s probably official vocabulary that gets applied when discussing Celestial Linguistics, maybe even a whole separate set of characters just to describe all the ‘phonetic’ nuances that exist in one or the other. Volumes upon volumes research have almost certainly been compiled describing the grammar of Angelic, the grammar of Helltongue, and how both have evolved both from the Beginning to the point of departure and beyond. Very likely there’s commentary about the cultural associations and social factors that influence the development and usage of language within certain groups. Undoubtedly, someone has talked about specific quirks of speech in the Redeemed and the Fallen that reflect on previous affiliations. Some of these volumes may even have illustrated versions with proper diagrams we can appreciate. And if so, we’re sure that copies of all these exist somewhere in Yves’ library.
But let’s be honest here: we’ve never read those books. Nor will we ever. Our usual preferred learning style is through hands-on experience. Learning languages through immersion, for example, rather than via a textbook or, in this case, an audiotape consisting of nothing but repeated phrases.
That being said, we could wish for a lot less immersion. Or a better language.
This is the basic concept of Helltongue filtered through nine forces of Kyriotate and distilled:
Take a basic sentence. For example: “I am alone here.”
Now consider that sentence as a musical recording, with multiple tracks of audio coming together to build one coherent whole. Strictly speaking, celestial language doesn’t match perfectly to corporeal music, but it’s close enough that music serves not just a standard metaphor when talking about celestial languages, but the standard metaphor.
Now, in this phrase, there’s a base track that remains mostly the same between both languages. This isn’t a surprise. Demons did not create their own language from a void after the capital ‘F’ Fall; they took the already extant celestial language as a base, stripped out the contextual notes, and added feedback. A simple, factual statement in Helltongue sounds very much like dull, flat Angelic. It puts some speaking quirks we’ve heard mostly from the new-redeemed into perspective.
It’s the backing tracks that give Angelic and Helltongue their contrasting qualities.
“I am alone here.”
The harmonies on the Angelic backing tracks have inflections to denote metaphor, sarcasm, and exaggeration. If something is not strictly true in a literal sense; figurative usage will be clearly marked. The language factors in the context of the conversation and calls out non-sequiturs and abrupt topic switches as sweetly and ruthlessly as a Malakite of Flowers. There will be different words used depending on whether ‘alone’ is meant in a physical sense or emotional sense, if it reflects a current (short-term) state or a general (long-term) situation, whether ‘alone’ is meant in the sense of a specific kind of relationship; and if so, whether that aloneness is generally out of preference or not. Failure to hit any applicable tones in context will highlight either ignorance or omission; hitting a false tone is impossible.
One could not say they were alone in Angelic unless there was at least one definition of ‘alone’ that could fill in a true statement. Even then, the language would indicate what specific definition is being used to create the truest possible statement. In cases where many definitions will apply, the most accurate one to context is always chosen by default. It takes either effort or genuine confusion to choose the less precise concept.
The backing tracks in Helltongue never add context. Their main purpose seems to be to add noise and to distort and distract from the true meaning of any given phrase. Even nominally true statements in Helltongue aren’t immune to distortion. There are certain placeholders whose sole purpose is to confuse whether a true statement is actually true or just heavily implied to be true in context, but who can really say what’s true for sure, wink, wink. The most simple fact stated in Helltongue, intended as truth, and using the minimum mandatory backing tracks still sounds like a very distorted version of the equivalent Angelic statement.
“I am alone.”
That, generally, doesn’t seem very useful for demons beyond the fact that this factual voice is not restricted solely to true statements. But its existence allows a speaker—Mariah for example—to combine multiple tracks together to say something like this to one’s immediate supervisor:
“No one else has been in this room since I returned.”
It feels wrong to understand how the celestial language can be used like that, the way it does to have to leave hosts with an unintended consequence.
—
Celestials learning languages—angels learning Helltongue in specifically—requires intention. We’re not human children, whose minds are built to learn languages, as one of our Cherub siblings told us once. And celestial languages aren’t the same as corporeal ones in that all of common terms we’re using as short hand like ‘grammar’ and ‘pronoun’ refer to pure meaning rather than an arbitrary meaning attached to a specific set of phonic (or symbolic, or gestural) combinations. The language barrier between Angelic and Helltongue isn’t so much about the construction of the languages themselves, but in the conceptual gap of how those languages get used.
(Demons do seem to get some level of natural listening fluency to Angelic. Mariah seems to understand our Angelic statements on a surface level, even though the more subtle tones seem to elude her. Do they get the same speaking ability as well? We’re not sure. We’ve never heard her speak it.)
For angels, it’s the choice to fill in that conceptual gap that causes the dissonance from learning Helltongue. It’s a choice. It has to be. The dissonance would not make sense otherwise.
Many angels in Hell, facing our current situation would have maintained a life of Holy Contemplation before knowingly taking any step towards Damnation. A Judge or a Swordy would probably spend years gritting metaphysical teeth against accepting any influence of Hell, even one delivered in the form of a mechanical voice on a very low quality sound system. We’re pretty sure a Stony could go centuries doing nothing other than existing inside a crystal like this, getting lost in the mineral structure and closing out the environment around them. Any Malakim who might have been caught (song of Possession) would surely choose their own soul death over the choice to learn the infernal language. Any unlikely Seraphim would most likely do the same. We pause here to picture our mother choosing to learn Helltongue in a situation like this…and fail.
(Of course, she’s large enough that a single catcher could not hold her, even if she knew the right Song and chose to use it on a someone carrying one.)
We’re saying, Mariah wanted to teach us, but she’s only one-half the equation here. She could have played those language learning tapes for hundreds or even thousands of hours. She could taken a more hands on approach and used her resonance as motivation and/or punishment. She could even have found a more engaging way to present the material to make the learning process less excruciating. (Unlikely and most of us probably glad for it.) Nothing she chose to do would have guaranteed a result if we—or at least the plurality of us—had not chosen to learn.
We considered, and then rejected that more holy of options. If we have nothing to do here but contemplate holily until Hell is Raised, then that’s one thing, but we don’t believe that. Yes, most of our senses are locked away. Yes, our ability to act is even more restricted. We can’t do most mundane actions much less, access any of our Songs or Attunements. Our essence is gone, and nothing has come back since…since our last day on the corporeal, however long ago that was. Still, what’s the point of Creation if we don’t believe we can make something to do out of a situation like this with the tools we have on hand?
We can hear, and we can speak. The ability to understand the sounds around us means a new way of collecting information down here. A new way of speaking means a new and dangerous way to use our words.
In theory, learning Helltongue only guarantees the one note of dissonance. So long as we don’t lie, we won’t take any more that what’s already on us. However, speaking Helltongue has its own hazards. We become exquisitely aware of the problem once we speak our first words in this language.
“You can stop playing the tapes now.” These words are entirely truthful and entirely mundane. They still feel precarious passing through our mouths.
Never mind our first words being so True we could have said them in Angelic with minimal changes, Helltongue wants to add tones of embellishment or understatement. Simply intending not to lie isn’t enough to keep our statements true; it takes full and concentrated effort.
“You’ve learned it?” Mariah sounds genuinely thrilled.
Finding the correct and truthful answer in this language feels like walking on black ice in high-heels: Do so at your own risk and try not to Fall. If we claimed we’ve learned Helltongue, there’s nuances we’re afraid will twist into lies. The language wants us to claim fluency or linguistic expertise or literacy, any of which would be false. We navigate, trying to find the statement in Helltongue that is true and demonstrative. We settle on one.
“I’ve taken the dissonance for learning.”
We undoubtedly have a note of dissonance, just one note, not enough to Fall or even send us Outcast. We gained this note of dissonance down here in Hell. Mariah’s been teaching us Helltongue (for a value of ‘teaching’ that means standing by while audio drones at us). So how else would we have acquired this note of Dissonance down here, if not from learning the language? We have no host of any kind to leave worse off, and Creationers don’t do Word dissonance by nature. It had to be the Helltongue. We believe it so much that no matter how the language tries to twist it, the statement holds together when we speak.
Speaking of dissonance, how long will that note linger? For the foreseeable future, unless Mariah decides to let us stop by an Angelic tether for a week to work it off before taking us back to Hell. (Let us have our amusing and impossible mental images where we can get them.) The note doesn’t mean much in this state. It’s just a fuzzy gray blot floating across our eyes, an insubstantial bit of tarnish amidst all the nothingness we’re unfortunately getting accustomed to.
“Do you understand me now?” She asks in her native language.
We focus on our sentence. The simple answer is ‘Yes’, but it’s a challenge for us to find the exact version of ‘yes’ in Helltongue that avoids implied falsehoods. “We don’t understand you as a person, but we understood that sentence you spoke.”
Okay, perhaps that is more truth than strictly necessary. Maybe we should have talked to Mother more about telling enough the truth, telling too much of the truth, and the fine gradations of honesty contained within those lines.
We half-expect Mariah to take offense. If so, she doesn’t back it up with Punishment.
“Your kind of angel never does.” Mariah says, continuing on in her native tongue. “At least not at the start. But that’s something you and I can work on together.”