ELRETH
"The greater problem you're going to have, El, is the difference between how you'll have to handle a human here, under your watch—a prisoner, enemy of war—and someone you might meet if you cross the traverse. You won't be able to order them around over there. Worse, you'll get in trouble if you try."
"Yes, Gar spoke to me about that at length," Elreth sighed.
They all looked back towards the door where neither Aaryn nor Gar had materialized yet.
Elreth didn't have time to think about it. Aaryn would find her brother, she was sure.
So she turned back to her parents. They went back and forth for several minutes discussing the humans and their different ways of thinking and Elreth's head was left spinning.
They were less hierarchical, usually less disciplined—more prone to panic—than an Anima. They struggled to accept their Creator-given fate.
Her mother jumped in then. "I'd say it goes further than that—most don't even believe in a Creator," she said sadly. "They attribute His work to their own efforts, or the efforts of others… or coincidence."
Her father looked at her mother, his eyes narrowed. "Coincidence? They believe the world simply… happens?"
She nodded.
"I don't think that's the big issue," Elreth began, but her mother interrupted her.
"You don't understand, Elreth… how a person understands their universe affects everything they see, all their decisions, the choices they make—even their feelings about you. You are… impossible to most of them. Those that would come here clearly know you're real. But for someone in my world just meet you…" she shook her head and sat back in the couch. "For some it would break their minds."
"Their instincts," Elreth said, "you've mentioned that they don't really listen to those?"
"Many do," her mother said. "But I'd say they are far less conscious of them. Their instincts make them react—like reflex. But often they aren't aware that that's what they're following until later when they have time to think. A human under stress will often panic as your father said, but not all of them. The ones that are here, I imagine they are far less likely to do so. But you'd need to treat those in the human world—who don't know what you are—with great care. Your presence would be… intimidating to them."
Elreth doubted that, but she supposed she'd see if she got there.
"Their senses," she said, "they really can't smell anything?"
"Oh, they can smell heavy scents—food, grass, the earth, that sort of thing. But the individual scents of a person aren't even perceptible to them except when they are very, very close. They could not tell if you or I had passed through a room, or walked a trail. Nothing like that. And their sight is much duller. Especially in the dark."
"We anima would have great advantage against them in battle hand-to-hand," her father explained. "That's why they have developed and rely so heavily on technology. They have used their minds to even the playing field."
"To dominate it, you mean," Elreth grumbled.
"They also use those technologies for good, El," her father said gently. "They are very inventive. They don't heal as quickly or easily as we do, so they've applied their cunning and resourcefulness to making tools to strengthen their bodies, and heal them. Even to replace body parts, at times."
"They…. What?"
Her mother smiled. "It sounds horrible, but it's no different than the Anima who lost a leg and uses a peg in its place. Except that they use metals and machines, and… it's quite impressive, actually."
Elreth couldn't even conceive of a machine that could replace a limb. And she didn't have time to try.
"This is all…. I mean, sure. I'll keep this in mind. But I need to know what happens when I stand in front of a human. How do they think differently? How can I bring them onside, or be certain to offend them?"
"That is just like with the Anima," her father said with a sad smile, "It depends on the human."
"Well, there is one thing," her mother said thoughtfully. "When I first arrived here I was completely stumped by the Anima way of leading by example when you wanted someone to learn—when you expect them to adjust to your way of doing things. You have to give instructions, Elreth. They aren't taught to think that way. They won't just observe and adjust. They likely won't keep trying if they don't understand. They'll retreat. So… you have to… speak what you want. Then show them. Once they know what to look for, most will at least try."
"Oh, and don't get naked in front of them, or ask them to get naked in front of you—unless you want to put them off balance. Then, by all means," her father said with small smile.
Elreth snorted. "I'm hardly excited about the idea of getting naked myself," she said dryly. "I think I can refrain from expecting it of humans."
Her mother's cheeks pinked and Elreth shook her head.
They spoke further, but all Elreth really drew from the conversation was that she had to apply all her instincts, all her powers of observation into watching the humans and adjusting to what she saw displayed in their body language.
"Watch closely on the body language. Humans are less aware of it, but also more subtle in how they use it. The Anima have a little bit more… flare," her mother said when that subject came up. "And our males are a little more open with their feelings than the usual human as well." She stared at Elreth's dad, grinning.
Her father rolled his eyes. "This is one area where your mother and I disagree," he grumbled.
Elreth grinned, but decided not to taunt her father. "Well, whatever… I'll keep that in mind."
"Just follow your instincts, and listen to the Creator, you'll do fine," her father said quietly, then shifted in his seat, rubbing his chest.
Elreth immediately got serious, as did her mother. "Dad, are you okay?"