On the Creation of Glyphs

"I want you imagine the color blue. Picture it in your mind. The connotations, the look, the emotional ties. Times you've seen something that was just remarkably blue. And now, describe that color, as if to someone who has never experienced a sense of sight. No context for cool or warm colors, no context for color theory as it pertains to emotion, no context for anything to do with sight or color or reaction to either. Explain blue to them, in a way that they will understand, as well as you do, what blue is.

Not easy, is it? You falter. It's all but impossible to find a way to describe a color except in the context of other colors.

This is the difficulty of creating a new glyph. Glyphs are a language, as much as they are a tool, and they exist only in the context of themselves. To create a glyph is to define a new concept, to name it, in a structure that has no words for it.

You can get around that, of course. Imagine ... encountering some device, some object, that is wholly unfamiliar to you. You can describe it, but only at length, several full sentences to describe the thing. Without the shorthand of a name, the only way to refer to that object within the context of the language is to use that multiple-sentence description. It works, but it's cumbersome, unwieldy. So it is with glyphs - you can describe a concept for which there is no known glyph by way of a host of others, layers upon layers of casting circles, but this is weighty and training. Developing a glyph, to name an object, is to bypass this, to name it with a single symbol, a single word. It makes the process of constructing a statement, or a spell, far smoother.

Of course, you can name an object any old thing you like, and people will know what you mean. Glyphs are ... well, the metaphor breaks down here. The creation of a new glyph is not so much a process of construction as it is of decryption, of discovery. For a new concept, heretofore unknown in the language, there always exists a hypothetical glyph to be found to name it. And this hypothetical glyph can be found and employed, through exhaustive experimentation around those rules of glyphic construction we do understand. It is this, more than anything, in which I am an expert - I have devoted my life to the study of magic at its most basic logical level, to deciphering the rules that control our practice so we can learn how to employ them.

The last glyph I recall being created, before I left, was for ... well, there is no good word for it in Imperial. It describes a concept in Fire of reckless despair, or despairing recklessness. A Metric at the Lyceum developed it when I was a child, during a period of economic downturn in Vokt, to describe a phenomenon he witnessed among the young people there. They would spend their meager wages extravagantly, on fine dining and theater, rather than saving for the future, as there was a widespread belief that the coming years would only offer them less and less despite any efforts. To live in the moment, rather than prepare for a future that can only disappoint. After all, why save to buy a home if you'll never be able to afford one anyway?

We've concepts in the glyphic languages for spendthrifts, for wastefulness, but that unique concept of willfully mortgaging an irrelevant future to pay for a yield today, that was new. That needed a name, and a name was developed, and so we get our new glyph. It's a niche application, but finds most of its utility in enchantments dealing with batteries, controlling rapid discharge of stored aether. Typically, a battery is designed for a certain rate of draw, and will shatter or melt if overtaxed. But, an enchantment incorporating this concept of despairing recklessness can sap a battery quickly without breaking it, leaving it able to be recharged. You won't get the full draw, as much of the aether is consumed to power that part of the enchantment, but you can dump aether very quickly for an emergency usage this way.

When developing a glyph, one typically looks to similar glyphs, describing similar concepts. The glyph for despairing recklessness has several common elements with the glyph for profligance, for prodigality, for depression, a host of similarities between similar concepts. It is complex, but there are more complex glyphs. This is how a glyph is made - through exhaustive comparison and experimentation. It is a challenging process, not merely to find the correct sequence, but to have cause to do so in the first place.

But then, there is little out here that is not some kind of terrifying new concept. There is much to catalogue, once I have the tools assembled, and I suspect I could spend the rest of my life doing so without making a dent."

Metric Parsnip Pasternak, late-night pontifications