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[longwillows]

reach out?

the smell of fresh water in dry desert air. the feeling of cautious curiosity. a place as dangerous as it is resplendent.

c

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[longwillows]

[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.]

[pointedlook]

[ 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?

[longwillows]

[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.