Itxaro listened intently to Kareet and Shirik’s brief history lesson.
350 years of magic. She wondered how human society would have evolved if similar Awakenings had struck the population, say, in the 14th century. She couldn't imagine the path mankind might have taken, but knew it would involve exponentially more bloodshed, and likely less focus on tangible fields of science. Itxaro made a note that, perhaps this is what was happening on Kanth-Aremek; stagnating scientific studies, but rapid societal evolution through magic thanks to these Awakenings. She’d have to learn more before drawing any conclusions, and silently wished she’d devoted more of her time to sociological research.
Then again, I don’t think they’d want an anthropologist on an interstellar space ship.She couldn’t stop herself from cocking an eyebrow at Shirik though. 1000 years of walking the earth.
I’ll be lucky if I hit 40 at this rate. Itxaro got the impression that this type of longevity wasn’t typical of his species, along with his smoldering body, and wondered if the strange creature was lonely in his possibly eternal wandering.
Her musings were cut short when a familiar face trotted up to the encampment.
“Ah, fuck.” The translator picked up her obscenity and spat out a rough approximation, something akin to "mating". They’d forgotten, or intentionally omitted, Silbermine from the new conversation, and now he was here.
Probably watching us. Smart.If the Glen had been expecting a royal's welcome, he was sorely mistaken. As insult after insult piled upon Silbermine, Itxaro sank deeper and deeper into the soft grass until she was practically flat on the ground. She wished the earth would swallow her up whole, wincing after every slight Nellara delivered with her sharp tongue. Their previous interaction had been hostile, but with the translation program now running, she fully grasped the scope of their shared animosity. Shirik’s insults and truly demented laugh didn’t help matters either.
Itxaro contemplated staying cloistered away in the tall grass. But, neither the commander nor the X.O. were anywhere to be seen, Barberio was just getting over the initial shock of first contact, and Vigdis seemed more interested in scientific endeavors rather than preventing a charging army of Glen from cutting them down. So, Itxaro felt the responsibility fall on her shoulders yet again.
“Shirik, why do I keep getting diplomatic duties?” Itxaro groaned to her companion. She produced the armlet Silbermine had given her from a jumpsuit pocket and slid the golden ring onto her bicep before emerging from her hiding place
“He’s the one who needs to watch out for me,” Itxaro replied to Shirik with a wry grin. She’d spent years developing a calm, neutral persona, able to mask her anger and intentions, and it was time to put it to work. She hoped it wouldn't crack. Itxaro felt calmer now, as the situation was becoming less fluid and the language barrier was mostly resolved.
Silbermine was thrown off guard by the translators, which was good for Itxaro. She slid between the feuding parties, as if her physical presence would block any more harsh words thrown by Vigdis or Nellara.
“Good morning, Lord Silbermine,” Itxaro began with a bow,
“We’re pleased by the timing of your arrival; we were just about to send an envoy to request your presence.” Itxaro glanced to Vigdis, attempting to somehow convey
for the love of God, back me up with her eyes.
Itxaro realized no one had explained the translator to him, judging from his bewildered expression.
“We’ve been working with a representative of the Inquisitor’s Guild to learn your language, and our blacksmiths have developed this device,” she said, gesturing to the translator.
“Think of it as a small golem, capable of taking our words and translating them.” She had no clue if this explanation would work, but it was worth a shot. It would be easier to describe their technology through a KA lens, rather than explain it in human terms.
“What my companion here," she said, nodding to Vigdis,
"is trying to say is we’re unfamiliar with your custom of The Running; however, we would be glad to discuss it and our potential involvement further with you and break bread. In fact, one of our leaders is on our way right now,” Itxaro finished with a smile, quickly tapping out on her datapad a message to both Zey and Mallory.
>Silbermine here. Negotiating. Need guidance.
Of course, Itxaro didn’t need
guidance; a plan was already formulating in her mind, something she’d been loosely developing as she scrambled through the Jotunheim’s hull. Really, Itxaro just needed permission. Now that it sounded like Silbermine needed their help to save his house, they had the upper hand. This "Running" seemed like a good way to resolve all their problems with one decisive move. Their alien companions had warned them against it, but Itxaro decided to weigh all the options before making her move. At worst, she would simply buy the humans some time.
She eyed the bread produced by Silbermine’s Glen-at-arms and already decided she would eat it when offered, and just hope it wouldn't prove toxic to human biology. If it did, then the good doctor could just pump her stomach. Besides, she hadn’t had fresh(ish) bread in a while.
Itxaro looked to Nellara, who seemed to be fuming, and hastily added,
"Maybe it would be best if we held our meeting outside this encampment? Neutral ground?"
