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01-11-2015, 09:52 PM
It was a voice, floating on the wind, that drew me deeper into the depths of the Threshold. A song, melodic as a bird's warble and smooth as a flowing stream in the morning air, spoken in a language that resonated within me like a harpist's fingers across the strings. Those words... so achingly familiar. I stop in mid-stride, ignoring Elodin's confusion, my ears pricked sharp with rapt attention. The voice was undoubtedly feminine, and the language... definitely not Helovian. But i knew it's rhythm oh so well, for i was fluent in that tongue from the moment i could speak. I leap forward, towards the siren's song that called to me, Elodin bounding at my heels as we race through the forest. Soon she comes into view, and i slow to a stop, just out of view of the pale mare as she sings. Even Elodin pauses to listen, his broad ears flicked towards her. We wait until she is finished, until the notes of that song fade into the mid-morning air. Her accent... is vaguely different than mine, but close enough that i feel confident. "Álainn. Shealbhú Fiú na héin fós a gcuid foinn i do onóir." The words fall from my tongue, and oh the joy i feel at speaking the proper tongue cannot be put into words. Elodin picks up on it, and lets out a bleat to the mare before leaning against my leg. He's tired, and i curl my tail around him, letting him sink down into the soft hair as his bed. Then it hits me. What if she is only mimicking the song, rather than speaking the actual language? I want to dismiss that, she spoke it so fluently, her tongue rolling the words as one would a lover. In a language such as this, such as mine, it was hard to mimic it. One could copy the words, aye, but one could not mimic the passion that goes into every syllable. "May i ask of you your name?" I switch to the Helovian tongue, such a common enough one. Translation: Beautiful. Even the birds still hold their tunes in your honor. @[Aisling] "Speech speech specch."  |
