> "Welcome to the Kingdom of Thistle," Rayleigh announced, waving his tea mug like it was a royal scepter. "Where words hold power, nobles argue with sonnets, and sometimes, the library gets possessed."
We were walking through the upper Archive levels — Aari on one side, arms crossed and unimpressed. Me on the other, doing my best not to trip over floating scrolls.
The hallway was lit by soft-glowing words: lumen, serin, florescentia. They shimmered against the stone walls like magical neon signs. I was pretty sure one whispered "nice hair" as we passed.
> "Thistle's one of the few surviving kingdoms built on linguistic harmony," Rayleigh continued. "Spells come from language, so peace depends on... well, proper communication."
> "So, people talk things out instead of fighting?" I asked hopefully.
> "Gods no," Aari said. "They just argue in four dialects at once."
> "Oh."
Rayleigh pushed open a door with a glowing handle labeled pushium. Beyond was a balcony overlooking the city.
It was beautiful.
Scroll-lights floated like lanterns. People rode on carriages pulled by giant paper cranes. Spell-letters zipped through the sky like fireflies. A tower in the distance rang with musical chimes every few seconds.
> "Two years ago, we weren't sure this city would still be standing," Rayleigh said, sipping his tea like a dramatic historian.
> "War?" I guessed.
He nodded. "Neighboring kingdom — Caldria. Accused Thistle of word-theft. Claimed we stole ancient dialects from their sacred texts."
> "That's… a weird reason for war."
> "They tried to copyright verbs."
> "Oh. Okay, that's worse."
> "Thistle won," Aari added. "Barely. Most of the border towns are still in recovery. But we're stable. For now."
Rayleigh sighed and leaned on the railing.
> "Still… tensions remain. The Guild's becoming more aggressive. Nobles whisper about forbidden spells. And then there's talk of a new 'Tongueborn' arriving."
> "Oh hey," I said. "That's me."
> "Yes," Aari said dryly. "We know."
We walked through a small square filled with food carts, magical lanterns, and a very aggressive parrot reciting grammar rules.
Aari handed me a sweet bun shaped like a scroll.
> "Try this. It's called a 'Spellcake.' If it glows, don't eat it."
> "Why would it glow?"
> "You ask too many questions."
We passed a small café where a bard was singing to a loaf of bread that slowly began to levitate. A cat sitting nearby clapped politely.
> "So... what do people do here?" I asked. "Besides scroll-juggling and bakery enchantments?"
> "Well," Rayleigh said, "students learn language-magic. Scholars research lost dialects. Bards experiment with sound spells. Nobles hold symposiums."
> "And you?"
> "Mostly I fix magical messes and drink tea. Often at the same time."
Suddenly, a bell rang in the distance. A single tone, low and clear — like the opening note of something serious.
Aari stiffened.
> "Council summons," she said.
Rayleigh frowned.
> "Already?"
> "Looks like word of your arrival's spreading," she said, glancing at me.
> "Wait, me? I just got here. I haven't even figured out how not to set people on fire when I sneeze."
Rayleigh placed a hand on my shoulder.
> "Then we'd better hurry. You're about to get introduced to the part of this world no one puts in the orientation scroll."