"As I mentioned last time, Elvish language has already surpassed the boundaries of language we can comprehend. Most of its effective meaning is hidden in the tacit understanding and resonance between speakers, relying on the Elves' innate extraordinary senses—almost a racial instinct. Even with only written words, they can recreate the context through pronunciation or even the strokes of the writing, whether by reading aloud or touching it, completing references and achieving synesthetic empathy. This is something humans, who can only speak dryly, could never imagine..."
In the study at Mindis Hall, Scholar Bona was, as always, rocking his head from side to side as he leisurely explained his grammar lesson.
Tales sat upright behind the desk, calmly copying the Ancient Elvish alphabet and the five to fifteen phonetic symbols for each letter. His posture was elegant, and his work meticulous.
As though nothing from last night had happened.
"So in written language, Elvish is often concise and polished to an infuriating degree. The grammatical structure of Ancient Xi'ya Elvish script often omits tenses and even pronouns, while the word order of Ancient Liren Elvish script contains many incomprehensible inversions. There's a little joke about this: an Elvish romance novel about a love triangle was translated into the human common tongue, but after reading the ending, the readers split into three factions and argued furiously, because each faction believed the pair of characters they liked had ended up together. That continued until the original author could no longer stand it and revealed that he had written a love hexagon..."
Scholar Bona's voice droned on, but Tales remained focused.
The Star Lake Guard stationed close by the door still used the configuration Marius preferred: one Vanguard Officer paired with one Guard Officer. But instead of Gollor and Doyle as before, they