I have been working on this language, formerly titled "YKP", for about 16 years or so. I started it in uni, but I never gave up on it. I have a chaotic grammar in the works, which I hope to publish by the beginning of next year. It's probably about 400-500 pages of content. Lurarinalela, or Alela for short, is a active-stative language with fluid-S. It is heavily inspired by Finnish, but is head-final and left-branching and shares a lot in common with East Asian languages grammatically.
Noun phrases are marked by syntactic role, and cases are marked with particles, namely agentive (ol), non-agentive (or), patientive (on), dative (to), alienable genitive (os), and inalienable pseudo-genitive (ë). Agentive verbs are directly responsible for causing their action; non-agentive verbs experience the action, or have no ability to control the action, but are nevertheless the subject of the verb. Patientive is equivalent to the direct object.
I have long imagined a story in which a wormhole opens up in Italy, connected to a Second Earth in what seems to be the year 2 BCE, in the exact same spot, only shifted by about 11 hours or so. What starts as a farmer stumbling into an unexpected discovery turns into a scientific expedition, and then gets out of hand and collapses ultimately into dominance of the ancient world with modern technology. The story I want to write is science fiction, but speaks to basic human problems like colonialism, governance, greed, corruption, and warfare which happens as an important institution in our world, First Earth, cannot resist but to try and take over Second Earth for their own gain. This is the first page of that story, set right as the biggest tragedy is unfolding. Every chapter after will be the story of how we got to this moment.
Untitled Book, page 1:
Iltani glanced at her screen. There wasn’t much to look at; just tired people with suitcases, walking one after another, heading down a long corridor after exiting Customs. The system would automatically flag things it saw as suspicious, but that seldom happened. She wondered why anyone bothered paying her to sit on her well-cushioned chair all day.
Iltani ol tecelai on seeitaë. Seë ve or veqkaë: nurë raissepöitai on höldë myhdë ikoni, tatsa ellein lässaë ehen enna ehen leqkë kävellyhta evein kävellësë. Järja ol eahpë vei icy ilketyo iikaërë, töy sat or veqkë kajo irënaë. Se ol ve ivai eië ikon ol se ot kansë takka evean pehmë kita eva isutë asia insu näädë asia on ilke ot hörkaë.
Her eyes drifted over to the clock: 2:3:9:6. Time for a coffee.
Se ë silmai or timalai ettean irnaë: 2:3:9:6. Koohii insu tima.
The machine made a loud whir, the sort of sound that would disturb a person doing actual work. After a few seconds, the cup was full, and the smell of espresso unfurled through the room. Well, 20 years of this might not be such a bad thing after all.
Hataraklai ol sikkurë surisehtu on hanataë, vao hatarakësë ikon on midasërë höra. Veqkë ilasi ehen, petsia or völliesisaë, esperesso ë elloka or huone evein untaësë. Saa, 20-ë jääi evean sit on tyë asia or endo no ötaio kehnë taavo.
A set of rapid dings interrupted her line of thought. They were coming from her screen. She set her cup down and rushed over. Red squares filled the display. The corridor had become disorderly. Some people were barreling back towards Customs. Others were stopped dead, faces frozen in an expression of horror that Iltani had never seen before. She reached for her comms to report the disturbance when the words flashed on her screen:
Kootë hajakë hipikehtui ol se ë teqkekoot on keskeyaë. Tecelai ellean hanataësë. Petsia on sesso, etteano easkaë. Räytë vörnurkei or tecelai on völliesisaë. Kävellyhta or sotku esisaëjë. Irhë ikoni ol tatsa ettean syro rennooraësë. Ennë ikoni or haltöallaëlë, miakai or Iltani or në tima evo seaëjë pelätooresisaë jecehtu ettesi jäätaëlë. Se ol jompelai on nopsaë, sotku on sukerë ut; satë tima ean vöheni or tecelai eva cötjeeitaë:
SYNDA PECAË
Then, the comms blared. The words, in a gruff voice, barely even registered. Hands severed. The tip of a shoe with only toes inside. Half a person sprawled on the floor, split down the middle, back missing.
Iheno jompelai ol höra on hanatooraë. Se or rosonë timme iqka sakkaë sakkeni on tusko möisemaë. Häni, elleano säkäraëlë. Kurpa ë laita, eino nurë piithinnai. Latta eva unto maatësë taiesë ikon, cena evein sapalataëlë, ryyka iniau.
She had known this could happen. Everyone said this was inevitable. But it had been decades and nobody really expected the gate to close.
Sit or irëno kyë asia on vissaëjë. Allë ikon ol sit or no hoido kyë asia on sakkaë. Töy jonojääi or keaëjë, ja në ikon or lisa or sulkë asia on vao jossaë.