settee. He plucked the teapot off the lacquer tray, refilled Tari’s cup, and replaced the teapot—earning a large smile from Tari.
Tari happily took another sip, looking up when the translator switched to elvish.
“— cannot tell you how excited we are to have you two. We understand that a bond such as yours should not be abused, but we are hoping you will help us in the Translators’ Circle,” said an excited looking older man. His counterpart—a haunted looking scholar that had interviewed Tari and Arion for hours on end to search for any sort of connection between them—vacantly stared at the wall. He was badly in need of sleep, judging by the dark circles under his eyes.
An elf translator stood behind the pair, nodding in agreement as he fussed with his hair.
“What would you ask us to do?” Arion asked, narrowing his eyes.
Tari turned to her small plate of cookies as the translator switched back to Calnoric for Arion’s sake. She selected a lemon tart and transferred it to Arion’s empty plate before consuming a sinfully rich chocolate truffle.
“Safeguard,”
Tari looked up when she understand the random human word. Since meeting Arion’s men she had learned a handful of additional words. It always happened without warning, and the word choice was rather unusual. The last set of words Tari had learned was “Sweet cakes.” That particular pair was acquired from King Petyrr.
Arion ate the tart as he listened to the translator, his expressionless face giving nothing away. When the translator finished, Arion looked to Tari. The translator opened his mouth to restart the lecture in elvish, but Arion beat him to the punch. “They want us to spend a day a week discussing topics picked out for us by the head of the Translators’ Circle and our monarchs.”
“That sounds an awful lot like a social engagement.”
“Agreed.”
“Tell them we’re too busy,” Tari suggested.
“Good idea.”
The haunted looking translator coughed bashfully to draw their attention to him. He produced two lists written out in fine scripts on pieces of birch paper.
“Healing remedies, animal husbandry, cloth production, architecture, schooling systems,” Tari read in elvish
Arion read the Calnoric script. “Customs, festivals, history, music, I don’t understand. These sound like research topics.”
The elf translator nodded. “It is. We translators work diligently to grasp the foundations of our languages, and we devote most of our learning to every day conversation and the terms of politics. We do not have the time or ability to learn the specialized terms that are required for discussing these topics. It would take years to properly learn—or invent—the appropriate terms that would allow for information exchange.”
The human translator spoke to Arion, giving him a similar speech no doubt, before adding for Tari. “Additionally, although our countries are so closely knit we do not of ten visit each other’s territories. This is partially because Haven makes it unnecessary—the seats of both governments most often reside here. Additionally, as your protectors and guardians it would be… invasive if we humans were to enter Lessa for scholarly purposes.”
“These topics, they were chosen by our Kings? His Majesty King Petyrr and My King Celrin wish for us to share this information?” Tari asked.
“Yes. There will be no translation barrier between you two. You will simply know from your souls ,” the human translator said, his eyes dewing up as he triumphantly clenched his fists.
Tari sipped her tea and looked at Arion.
The captain sighed and nodded to Tari.
“We agree,” Tari said to the translators. The humans and the elf exchanged smiles before standing to slap one another on the back as Tari returned her attention to Arion. “But I insist our first topic of conversation must be tea. This brew is simply fantastic . Do you have any idea what flavoring is it?”
“It’s breakfast
Tari happily took another sip, looking up when the translator switched to elvish.
“— cannot tell you how excited we are to have you two. We understand that a bond such as yours should not be abused, but we are hoping you will help us in the Translators’ Circle,” said an excited looking older man. His counterpart—a haunted looking scholar that had interviewed Tari and Arion for hours on end to search for any sort of connection between them—vacantly stared at the wall. He was badly in need of sleep, judging by the dark circles under his eyes.
An elf translator stood behind the pair, nodding in agreement as he fussed with his hair.
“What would you ask us to do?” Arion asked, narrowing his eyes.
Tari turned to her small plate of cookies as the translator switched back to Calnoric for Arion’s sake. She selected a lemon tart and transferred it to Arion’s empty plate before consuming a sinfully rich chocolate truffle.
“Safeguard,”
Tari looked up when she understand the random human word. Since meeting Arion’s men she had learned a handful of additional words. It always happened without warning, and the word choice was rather unusual. The last set of words Tari had learned was “Sweet cakes.” That particular pair was acquired from King Petyrr.
Arion ate the tart as he listened to the translator, his expressionless face giving nothing away. When the translator finished, Arion looked to Tari. The translator opened his mouth to restart the lecture in elvish, but Arion beat him to the punch. “They want us to spend a day a week discussing topics picked out for us by the head of the Translators’ Circle and our monarchs.”
“That sounds an awful lot like a social engagement.”
“Agreed.”
“Tell them we’re too busy,” Tari suggested.
“Good idea.”
The haunted looking translator coughed bashfully to draw their attention to him. He produced two lists written out in fine scripts on pieces of birch paper.
“Healing remedies, animal husbandry, cloth production, architecture, schooling systems,” Tari read in elvish
Arion read the Calnoric script. “Customs, festivals, history, music, I don’t understand. These sound like research topics.”
The elf translator nodded. “It is. We translators work diligently to grasp the foundations of our languages, and we devote most of our learning to every day conversation and the terms of politics. We do not have the time or ability to learn the specialized terms that are required for discussing these topics. It would take years to properly learn—or invent—the appropriate terms that would allow for information exchange.”
The human translator spoke to Arion, giving him a similar speech no doubt, before adding for Tari. “Additionally, although our countries are so closely knit we do not of ten visit each other’s territories. This is partially because Haven makes it unnecessary—the seats of both governments most often reside here. Additionally, as your protectors and guardians it would be… invasive if we humans were to enter Lessa for scholarly purposes.”
“These topics, they were chosen by our Kings? His Majesty King Petyrr and My King Celrin wish for us to share this information?” Tari asked.
“Yes. There will be no translation barrier between you two. You will simply know from your souls ,” the human translator said, his eyes dewing up as he triumphantly clenched his fists.
Tari sipped her tea and looked at Arion.
The captain sighed and nodded to Tari.
“We agree,” Tari said to the translators. The humans and the elf exchanged smiles before standing to slap one another on the back as Tari returned her attention to Arion. “But I insist our first topic of conversation must be tea. This brew is simply fantastic . Do you have any idea what flavoring is it?”
“It’s breakfast
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