7 Searing 121
Ale'Epherium, The Plaza of Jeweled Arches
Over the months since Lyra had made him his grimoire, Finn had kept his promise and helped about her shop when he had time. But spring had been a busy season between singing for his supper, his studies at the Academy, and artistic ventures such as his collaboration with Arvalyn the Hytori singer. As such, Lyra had deigned to hire him on with more of an agreed upon structure, and so he would be spending more time at Ale'Epherium. And so today, he had finished his morning classes and had come directly to the scrivener's shop. He had work to do, but he would do it when he got back to his little room at the inn. Anyway, if he was just to be moving papers about today, that sort of thing kept his hands and a part of his mind busy, leaving the rest of his mind to meditate on melodies and the like. Sometimes it was a good catalyst for composing later. He hoped so.
But today he had something to share with her and so he was red-cheeked when he walked through her door, from excitement as much as the exertion of hurrying across town from the Commons.
"I think I found something," he announced immediately with a child's ebullience when he found her at the desk up front. Pulling out his grimoire, he explained, "I found a fragment in Vallenor. There were a smattering of words I knew and that I knew would be of interest to you, though one of the verbs conjugated... funny. I don't know if it's a conjugation I haven't seen or... well, I recognized the root verb, anyway."
The children in his village had learned Common and Synnekar, the better to venerate the Avialae who watched over them. Elven languages were new territory for him, but he began to recite what he had copied down in his grimoire for her. The last was the tail end of a spell, but fortunately, there was not enough of it that even his partial recitation might cause unrest in the aether. And then he continued with a slice of history that Lyra had lived through, unbeknownst to Finn himself.
His tone was clear, declamatory, and practiced. He had a musician's ear and was eager to please, so he had learned to pronounce things such that he would not offend her ears, even though he didn't know the half of what he was reciting.
Ale'Epherium, The Plaza of Jeweled Arches
Over the months since Lyra had made him his grimoire, Finn had kept his promise and helped about her shop when he had time. But spring had been a busy season between singing for his supper, his studies at the Academy, and artistic ventures such as his collaboration with Arvalyn the Hytori singer. As such, Lyra had deigned to hire him on with more of an agreed upon structure, and so he would be spending more time at Ale'Epherium. And so today, he had finished his morning classes and had come directly to the scrivener's shop. He had work to do, but he would do it when he got back to his little room at the inn. Anyway, if he was just to be moving papers about today, that sort of thing kept his hands and a part of his mind busy, leaving the rest of his mind to meditate on melodies and the like. Sometimes it was a good catalyst for composing later. He hoped so.
But today he had something to share with her and so he was red-cheeked when he walked through her door, from excitement as much as the exertion of hurrying across town from the Commons.
"I think I found something," he announced immediately with a child's ebullience when he found her at the desk up front. Pulling out his grimoire, he explained, "I found a fragment in Vallenor. There were a smattering of words I knew and that I knew would be of interest to you, though one of the verbs conjugated... funny. I don't know if it's a conjugation I haven't seen or... well, I recognized the root verb, anyway."
The children in his village had learned Common and Synnekar, the better to venerate the Avialae who watched over them. Elven languages were new territory for him, but he began to recite what he had copied down in his grimoire for her. The last was the tail end of a spell, but fortunately, there was not enough of it that even his partial recitation might cause unrest in the aether. And then he continued with a slice of history that Lyra had lived through, unbeknownst to Finn himself.
His tone was clear, declamatory, and practiced. He had a musician's ear and was eager to please, so he had learned to pronounce things such that he would not offend her ears, even though he didn't know the half of what he was reciting.
