The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts-Chapter 617: This is the first time I see someone trying to turn tree mush into a writing tool. You really are not normal
After dismissing everyone with a promise to begin the first lesson in the afternoon, Isabella headed toward the storage and workshop areas with a small group following behind.
Cyrus, Kian, Zyran, and Osiris of course came along, like overly large shadows that refused to leave her side.
"What do you need?" Cyrus asked, walking half a step behind her. "Tell me and I will find it. If it does not exist, I will dig it out of the mountain."
Isabella considered.
"To make paper," she muttered, more to herself than anyone. "We need something thin and flexible that can hold marks. In my world, they used tree bark and plant fibers at first."
Kian frowned.
"We have bark," he said. "We use it for fire and sometimes to cover roofs. You want to write on it?"
"We can try," Isabella replied. "Also some softer plants. The ones with long fibers. We will soak them, pound them, and see what happens."
Zyran raised a brow.
"It sounds like torture," he said. "For plants."
"Good," Isabella snapped. "They have been lazy long enough."
Kian laughed quietly.
"I will ask the men to bring different kinds of bark and plants," he offered. "They know which ones are easier to peel and soak."
Soon, a small pile of materials gathered in the workshop area.
Thin bark from young trees. Tough grass with long fibers. Some broken baskets woven from reeds that could be repurposed. Isabella rolled up her sleeves again.
She separated the bark into strips and had Cyrus soak them in large stone basins filled with water.
"We will let them soften," she explained. "Then we will pound them until they turn into mush."
The men stared at the bark floating in the water.
"And then?" Kian asked.
"Then we will spread the mush thinly and let it dry," Isabella said. "If the gods are not against me, it will turn into something like paper."
Zyran squinted.
"This is the first time I see someone trying to turn tree mush into a writing tool," he commented. "You really are not normal."
"Thank you," Isabella said flatly.
While the bark soaked, she turned her attention to ink.
"Ink is just colored water that sticks to things," she thought. "We can use soot, charcoal, maybe some dark berries."
She scraped soot from the bottom of a pot that had been blackened by long use. She crushed it into a fine powder. Cyrus brought her a few pieces of charcoal from the fire, which she also ground down with a stone.
She mixed the soot and charcoal powder with a bit of water, then added a drop of animal fat to help it cling. She stirred until it became a thick black paste.
To test it, she dipped the tip of a sharpened stick into the mixture and drew a line on a smooth flat stone.
A dark mark appeared.
It looked ugly, uneven, but it did not immediately fade.
She rubbed it with her finger. The line smudged a little but did not disappear.
"Good enough," she said.
Osiris leaned closer.
"Looks like god blood," he said unhelpfully.
"Everything looks like god blood to you," Isabella replied.
Pen like tools were easier.
She chose several thin twigs and bones, shaving their tips into points with a sharp stone. For softer lines, she took a tuft of beast fur, tied it to the end of one stick, and trimmed it. It became an awkward, simple brush.
By the time they were done with these experiments, the bark in the basins had softened. Isabella took a pounder stone and began smashing it.
The bark slowly broke down into fibrous mush under her hands. She added some of the long grass fibers and continued pounding until it all became a thick, stringy mixture.
Her arms ached.
"This is hard work," she muttered, sweat forming at her temples. "In my world, entire villages did this for a living."
Cyrus reached out quickly.
"Let me," he said, taking the pounder from her. "You should not tire your arms."
He began pounding with controlled strength, breaking the fibers without splashing too much water. His muscles bunched and released rhythmically. 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶
Kian took another basin and helped.
Soon, several tubs of plant mush were ready.
Now came the delicate part.
Isabella had them scoop the mush onto flat stone trays that had been lightly smeared with oil so the dried sheet would not stick. She spread it with her fingers, trying to keep the layer as even and thin as possible.
It looked like someone had smeared sick tree paste over the stones.
Zyran stood with his arms folded, watching the strange scene.
"If this works," he told Osiris, "I will believe she can turn air into meat."
Osiris shrugged.
"She already turned stones and fire into cake," he replied. "My faith is ready."
They left the mushy sheets to dry near the fire, not too close so they would not crack. While waiting, Isabella gathered everyone again and began teaching them the very first simple marks, drawing them large on smooth stone with her soot ink.
"These are sounds," she explained. "Each of them will help us build words. You do not have to understand everything at once. For now, you only have to remember how they look."
The beastmen frowned and concentrated.
They were not used to such tasks, but once they focused, their sharp memories began working. Some of them repeated the shapes in the air with their fingers. Others muttered under their breath, associating each mark with a sound.
Ophelia’s tongue stuck out slightly from the corner of her mouth as she copied the first few shapes in her mind.
Shelia’s eyes were narrow with seriousness. She imagined herself writing notes for her brother and orders for the guards.
By the time the first short lesson ended, most of them already remembered several shapes.
When Isabella returned to the workshop to check on the drying mush, her mood was much better.
The top of the plant paste had hardened. Carefully, she lifted one edge.
A rough, thick sheet peeled away from the stone. It was not as smooth as real paper, and there were tiny holes here and there, but it held together.
She laid it flat on another dry surface and picked up her makeshift brush.
Dipping it into her ink, she drew one of the marks they had just practiced.
The black line soaked into the pale sheet and held.
It did not break.
It did not instantly fall apart.
Isabella exhaled slowly.
"This will work for now," she said. "It is ugly, but it will work."
Bubu made a small happy sound.
[Host has successfully created primitive paper and ink,] he reported. [Stone Age school pack unlocked.]
Isabella smirked.
"Good," she replied. "Then let this village see how terrifying a pregnant teacher can be."
She imagined a future scene where beastmen who could tear tigers apart sat obediently in a row, holding their rough paper and ink sticks, repeating after her.
It made her grin.
Soon, this small village would not only have strong walls and full storage pits. They would also have something no nearby tribe had.
A goddess who could cook cake, throw spears, and open a school all while heavily pregnant.
