longwillows | ✨ somnia inbox

[She is tiny, as far as owls go, and Kalmiya can't help but return the grin like she's in on the joke.] She's pretty high on the list! But the smallest thing that's important to me...

[She trails off as if contemplative, but truthfully she doesn't have to think about it at all. What she does have to think about, even if only for a moment, is how much she wants to reveal. She hasn't quite gotten used to being able to let go of that second-nature risk assessment when she's with Arthur yet. As comfortable as this is, it's still new.

She unwinds the arm from the side that Arthur isn't laying on and reaches under the blanket to pat at a spot on her person, one of many concealed pockets. With closed fist she retrieves the object inside and then settles her hand atop the covers at chest height, allowing him to see without moving from his comfortable sprawl too much.

It's a polished stainless steel ring, clearly fitted for one of Kalmiya's fingers. It's so unremarkable on the outside that it could be mistaken for a missing piece of machinery. However, as she tilts her palm, the bare light allowed into the room catches on a brilliant gold interior and highlights part of an engraving, though the full message can't be seen from this angle.

As she tilts the ring meditatively in her hand, a soft laugh leaves her.] That doesn't surprise me. Sharon is one of the sharpest people I've met here.

[ High on the list but not at the top of it; interesting. She doesn't answer right away though, the familiar sway of leaves filling in the space as she goes quiet, contemplative. He doesn't press further, just lets the silence lapse, idly listening to the steady sound of her breathing, of the muffled beat of her heart under his cheek. It's possible he's asked something too personal, so he'd understand if she ultimately passed on sharing it. The question had been borne from a bit of cheek, as well as genuine curiosity, but it didn't mean she was beholden to answer.

Eventually, she shifts a bit, holding a ring in the middle of her palm. The circle of it is small enough to clearly be fitted for her. Stainless steel loops the outer edge, unremarkable as jewelry goes. What's lined on the inside, however, catches in the bare light, a flowing script etched in with gold. None of the characters are recognizable; a language she knows, maybe, from her own world. ]

Yeah, she'd give most of the people I work with a run for their money. [ Fucking Nash. ] What language is it, on the inner part?

[There's a huff of fond amusement in acknowledgement of Arthur's endorsement of Sharon—and his indictment of some of his coworkers. Considering what she's already heard about the ones who are apparently good, she can't imagine how bad the bad ones must be.

What language is it is a fun place to start, but she couldn't expect something as nonspecific as "what is it" from Arthur. Carefully she slides it down from her palm into her curled fingers so that she can pinch it between forefinger and thumb, giving her a more precise range of motion to show off the golden interior.

Both her voice and heart soften with bittersweet nostalgia.] Celestial. The language of the angels.

It's my first language...sort of. [She doesn't need to read off the inscription; it's as engraved upon her memory as on the metal. Out loud, the syllables on her tongue are utterly alien. Short but not sharp, pleasant even where the usual fun lilt of her voice gives way to something more elegant, more ancient. While musical, it is less like a song and more like the clear ringing of glass.

Over the tether, Arthur can understand the meaning as he hears the words: Protect what matters by hiding what doesn't.]

[ Pinched between her fingers as it is, the edges of the inscription catch in the dim light. She explains it's the language of angels—something he never even considered. For one, he'd pretty certain they don't exist in his world. And for two, it's still startling to think there's enough of them where she's from to warrant a whole tongue.

Something about it, though, matches the flowing engraving. Even if it sounds less like words and is closer to the sound of wind chimes. Or the clear ring of a finger being drawn along the lip of a fine glass. The meaning fills in automatically, over their tether, and he both understands the message and doesn't.

On a practical level, he gets it: hide in plain sight. Sometimes, that was easier than trying to formulate a whole story or keep something important from falling into nefarious hands.

How it fits in with Kalmiya, though, he isn't sure. ]

Sort of?

[Having anticipated needing to clarify that, the answering thoughtful wind blows more in the direction of deciding how much of his unspoken curiosity to indulge. In the meantime, she focuses on the actual question.] Well, I'm mortal as far as I know, so I still had to be raised like a mortal child. Taught speech and language, and all that.

I had to learn speech as normal, and Common the way most mortals do, accumulating knowledge of what words go with what concepts. But I never had to be told what the word for a concept was in Celestial; it came to me as soon as I understood the concept being described.

So, I look at this... [She tilts the ring a few times in indication.] ...and my caretakers would tell me that in Common, it's called a "ring." A small piece of round jewelry for a finger. And then I would just know— in Celestial, it's a (ring.) Like I already knew the word, I just needed the thing it went to. I still had to practice saying it, but the mouth movements came much more naturally to me than speaking Common.

[This all feels like something that most people would consider incredibly boring. Thankfully, Arthur is not most people. Still, she decides to volunteer the main point of interest in this object. For her, anyway. Nostalgia and a pang of yearning underscore the wistful candor of her explanation.] My first partner had this made for me. He's an aasimar too— the first other I'd ever met.

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