Mother of Learning. Arc 3 Incomplete

«Say, I’ve been meaning to ask a small favor of you,» Zorian began.

«Go ahead,» Kirithishli said. «You’ve helped us a lot, so I’ll be happy to help if I can. It’s not often we get such a competent worker.»

«Eh!?» balked Zorian. «Competent? I barely know what I’m doing — if it weren’t for your and Ibery’s help I would wander around like a headless chicken.»

«That’s why I paired you with Ibery — to learn. And boy are you learning fast! Faster than I did when I first started at this job, that’s for sure. To be honest I usually give only the simplest and most tedious jobs to student employees, but since you’re more dedicated than them I’ve given you the advanced course.»

«Ah,» Zorian said after a short silence. «I’m flattered.» And he really was. «Anyway, I was wondering about book-finding divinations. I’ve been searching for a pretty obscure topic and I’m not going anywhere with it.»

«Ah!» Kirithishli said, slapping her forehead. «How could I forget about that!? Of course I’ll teach you, we teach all our long-term workers those. They’re a bit tricky to use, though, so it will take a while to learn how to use them properly. Ibery will show you how. Though you can always tell me what exactly you’re looking for and I’ll do my best to help you out. I know this library like the back of my hand, you know?»

Zorian debated the merit of showing her the lich’s chant, since he suspected it was something that could get him into a lot of trouble just for asking about it, but saw no other way. No doubt learning how to use those divinations took months — months he didn’t have. He took out his notebook and ripped out the corresponding page, handing it to her.

Kirithishli arched her eyebrow at the text, and Ibery gave up on all pretenses of not paying attention and peered over her shoulder to see what was on the slip of paper.

«It’s an unknown language,» Zorian clarified. «I don’t even know which one, really.»

«Hm, tricky,» Kirithishli remarked. «Finding a written reference based on a phonetic pronunciation of a word you don’t even understand is a tall order, even with divinations. You should just find an expert in languages to help you if it’s so important.»

«You should try Zenomir,» piped in Ibery.

«Our history teacher?» asked Zorian incredulously.

«He also teaches linguistics,» Ibery said. «He’s a polyglot. Speaks 37 languages.»

«Woah.»

«Yeah,» Ibery agreed. «He should at least know what language that is, even if he can’t read it. He’s pretty helpful if you approach him nicely, I doubt he’ll turn you away.»

Interesting.

«Ah, mister Kazinski, what can I do for you?»

Zenomir Olgai was old. Really old. He wore blue robes — actual robes, like the magi of old — and had a carefully sculpted white beard. Despite his advanced age, he moved with a spring in his step and his eyes had sharpness that most people half his age lacked. Zorian hadn’t taken the linguistics elective, but he knew from his history class that Zenomir cared about his subject almost as much as Nora Boole did about runes and mathematics — though he at least understood that most students didn’t share his passion for the subject.

«I was told you can help me about some translation,» Zorian said. «I have a pretty fragmentary recording of an unknown language in phonetic form, and I was hoping you could at least tell me what kind of language it is. It’s nothing like any language I’ve encountered so far.»

Zenomir perked up at the notion of an unknown language and gingerly took the paper slip with the lich’s chant from Zorian’s hand. His eyes widened barely a second afterward.

«Where did you get this?» he asked quietly.

Zorian debated internally what to do and then settled for a measure of truth.

«I was attacked by someone a while ago. They used a spell with that chant as the incantation. I just wanted to know what it does.»

Zenomir took a deep breath and leaned back. «You’re lucky it didn’t hit. It’s some kind of soul magic spell.»

«Soul magic?»

«Necromancy,» clarified Zenomir.

Zorian blinked. Necromancy? Well, it sort of made sense for the lich to use that sort of spells, but what did necromancy have to do with time travel? Nothing. This was pretty much a definite confirmation of Zach as a primary cause of his predicament.

«So, wait, what is that language anyway?» asked Zorian.

«Hm? Oh! Yes, the language… it’s old Majara language, spoken by many of the cultures that shared the continent of Miasina with Ikosians before their rise to prominence. Many of the ruins in Koth are written in it and, sadly, it is the language in which many of the blackest rituals and necromantic spells are formulated. You won’t find any books about it available in public circulations, I’m afraid. But let’s return to the matter of this assailant. This is the darkest of magic they used, and they can be up to no good if they’re throwing spells like that on academy students.»