For me, I suppose, it began on a day when I was busy with research as usual. At the time I served under King Savla Doma III as a royal scholar. He was the third king I’d sworn loyalty to in my lifetime, and I felt truly blessed to have served each one.
My area of interest had always been languages. Studying ancient tongues and deciphering the meanings and origins of words brought me great joy. Unfortunately, there were seldom any opportunities to use the knowledge I gained. Occasionally an ancient ruin would be unearthed, and I would be asked to decipher carvings on the wall, or some tattered texts found within, but that was hardly a common occurrence.
I spent most of my time engrossed in research, delving into forgotten texts, transcribing, translating. Compiling my own works on linguistics to leave behind for later generations. Every now and then I’d be asked to take a younger scholar under my wing and teach them some of what I knew, but these times seemed fleeting. Most of my life was spent living in a room beneath the library wing of the royal palace. Each morning I would wake, take breakfast, then set to work unraveling the mysteries of another old document. That was my routine, and I found it fulfilling.
On the day in question, I was immersed in my studies as usual when a messenger suddenly appeared.
“Forgive the disturbance, but His Majesty has requested your presence.”
“Oho. How rare. I shall depart immediately; lead the way.”
My old joints creaked as I stood up. I wasn’t at the point where I was so bent I needed a cane to move about, but I was close. Another year or so and I’d be hard-pressed to get out of bed in the morning unaided. Blessed though I was with a long life, I dreaded what was to come. I wished this withered body of mine would last another hundred years. There was still so much more I wanted to learn.
I followed the messenger to the king’s study. I’d been there before, but not recently.
“Ah, Worgin,” His Majesty greeted me. “Prompt as ever.” The smile on his face warmed my heart. How long had it been since I was asked to help with anything? Ten years? Twenty? In any case, I was thrilled to see His Majesty again. I began to kneel, as was appropriate, but he stopped me. “Please don’t. We’re not in a formal setting here, and I need you as healthy as possible. I’ve a great favor to ask of you.”
“I shall do anything in my power to assist you, Your Majesty. What would you have of me?”
“I’ll get straight to the point, then.”
His Majesty relayed the unbelievable tale of a strange little girl who’d recently appeared in the Grimwood region to the north. Apparently, this girl spoke an unknown language, but was interested in learning Ausbarlian. My heart danced at the thought. A language nobody knew anything about? And not an old, dead one, but a living, changing language! One would normally need to travel to another continent to speak with such a person.
In ancient times, humanity was forced to band together against a common enemy, and our language was inevitably unified. Everyone had spoken the same words back then. Near the end of that great battle, the enemy split and separated the lands however they could, to divide mankind’s power; the spaces in between became breeding grounds for monsters, further isolating the races of men. Huge monsters that dwelt in the seas and oceans made travel between continents nearly impossible, and even travel over land via areas like the Grimwood was unwise. What little contact we had with countries to the north was maintained by small vessels sailing in the shallows along the coast. The amount of trade these ships could facilitate was minimal at best. If there were a safe path through the Grimwood, expansive trade with the northern countries would become possible... Apparently, this little girl was the key to such a future.
As the king explained the situation, I realized how important this task was. Success or failure could potentially impact all of humanity.
I wasn’t the only scholar invited along, but most of the others were men I’d taught myself. None of them could truly rival me in knowledge. We traveled with His Majesty in a caravan of carriages with a huge military escort. Our destination was Finnelbraugh, the capital city of Duke Finlaud’s domain. The long carriage ride was hard on my old body, but I endured it. My excitement swelled with each passing day—but so did my old joints. It was a pleasant change of pace, traveling like this, but I worried I’d be needing that cane sooner as a result.
There was a stir as we approached the city. Apparently a series of huge walls had been erected around it, effectively holding the entire city prisoner. There was but a single gate, and the guards had little command of the Ausbarlian tongue. They would allow people to leave the city freely, but anyone entering was subject to a toll. The guards would search their carts, and occasionally their person, and extract whatever fee they deemed reasonable. If anyone objected, they were shown some sort of magical projection of the duke engaged in questionable acts. By far the strangest part was that when people left the city, their belongings were returned to them. It seemed the blockade was meant only to negatively impact the city, but not the people. There were also reports of the little creatures selling food, taking advantage of the rising prices within the city due to their own unusual sanctions.
Those weren’t the actions of someone who saw humanity as the enemy. It would have been easy for them to simply blockade the city and completely starve everyone inside, but they’d chosen this path instead. I had high hopes as we drew close to the city.
The caravan of carriages came to a stop, and the king took the lead as we approached the gate. His Majesty went alone, for fear that moving with his guards might appear hostile. We scholars were close behind him, hoping to be of service. If this supposedly unknown language was one we’d studied, then we would be able to interpret their words.
The little girl at the heart of the matter approached His Majesty personally. Judging by her behavior, I had to assume that she understood the position of a king. After a short introduction, His Majesty tried to lower himself to eye level with the little girl, who was far shorter than he was. This prompted panicked cries from his ministers and retainers, who always stood on ceremony. It was then that the little girl surprised everyone by sprouting a huge quartet of luminous wings and rising to meet the king’s gaze.
When she spoke, I understood every word. It was the oldest language I knew, one I’d studied extensively.
“Your Majesty,” I said. “I know these words! Please allow me to translate.”
After the king approved, I translated a lengthy conversation. The little girl was small, but by no means a child. She had flawless brown skin, and otherworldly hair that almost glowed. Her clothes put even the most elegant noble to shame, though for some reason she was barefoot. She was a calm, rational leader who conveyed her concerns clearly. I put questions about how and why she knew the ancient tongue out of my mind, and in the end, she agreed to stop imposing tolls on visitors to Finnelbraugh so long as the duke was brought to justice for his crimes.
As for those crimes... She showed us strange moving images via some sort of magical device, which also recreated the duke’s voice in devastating detail. She claimed she couldn’t understand what the duke was saying, which lent some credibility to her testimony. After all, it would be quite difficult to fake something like this if you didn’t know what the words meant.