Elder Omaqil didn’t answer him, instead nodding at Liris to continue. As if he trusted her to manage a demon servant when despite all her training she had no real-world experience, or maybe as if someone as untrustworthy as Liris couldn’t mess this up.
But she was absolutely going to mess everything up.
As badly as she could manage.
“I admit I assumed Serenthuar ambassadors studied spells in secret,” Jadrhun picked up again, as if inviting her to confide in him.
Ha. Liris wished she had studied magic, if only to feel smugger about denying him. With Elder Omaqil’s suspicious gaze on her, she didn’t dare joke about it now.
Instead she sighed dramatically. “Alas, not me, but I know enough to understand how much Thyrasel has to offer you. An optimal spell language requires the complexity of a living language but not the ongoing changeability, which is why casters derive fixed rule sets from dead languages. The context from other languages in the spell further limits the possible translations, but the more complex the language, the greater the power, or something to that effect, correct?”
“Correct.” Bored; she was losing him.
Not for long. “Spells also derive complexity from patterns, and that is what Thyrasel is made of.”
Jadrhun rolled his eyes. “All languages have patterns.”
“Not like this.” Liris tapped the pen on the table to draw his attention to the paper. “Don’t look at the individual symbols; look at the sentence from the top-down.”
He narrowed his eyes. “All right.”
“Now this one.” She penned another sentence, then another.
He frowned, then his eyes widened. “The shapes have meaning?”
“Yes. There are distinct shapes for different registers: in order, those are a plea, a request made of an equal, and a command. Now look at the shapes of the letters and compare them.”
“They’re nearly the same sentence, but the shapes of the letters themselves are different.”
Void, he was quick. She supposed that was to be expected of a powerful field caster: he could probably read as many languages as she could.
“Yes. Each letter conveys tone or emotional subtext. That plea is angry; the command is sad.”
“The various markings? The slashes and dots on the edges aren’t part of the letters?”
“No, but they’re sounds. Sort of like an idiomatic footnote to the thought—that plea carries the connotation of, ‘don’t you think this is silly?’ while the command affirms, essentially, ‘that’s the way things are’. All of that before I’ve even taught you a single word.”
Complex, with built-in patterns, and no other spellcaster knew it to thwart.
The most perfect spell language for a demon servant.
Jadrhun’s intensity was back in force, piercing her with his gaze.
“All right, Liris. I’m impressed.”
Bittersweet triumph pierced her.
Of course this stranger wouldn’t know he’d just offered her the first official acknowledgment of her life, and it was for serving demons.
Then again, given the seriousness in his gaze, maybe he did.
She bowed. “As the only fluent person alive, I’ll be delighted to be able to share this knowledge with another person who can appreciate it.”
Don’t forget you can’t kill me yet.
More importantly, don’t lose interest.
“I’ll retrieve my notes so we can begin in earnest,” Liris continued, heart pounding, palms sweating, desperately hoping no one noticed. This was it. “As I never intended to teach, I will need a few minutes to sort them appropriately and would not waste your time. Elder Omaqil, you will see to our guest’s needs in the meantime?”