Chapter 291 The Art Of Language

Chapter 291 The Art Of Language

Northern gazed at the young king before him. Ulzred's eyes sparkled with curiosity and eagerness.

The boy's enthusiasm was almost tangible.

"Language is much like swordplay," Northern began, his voice calm and measured. "Both require grace, practice, and a deep understanding of subtle movements. Today, we start a new journey."

As Northern spoke, he realized that his what he had just said again deepened his understanding of swordplay.

Ulzred's youthful face tightened in concentration. "Will it be hard?"

Northern chuckled softly. "Not as hard as it seems, if you listen closely and trust in your own abilities."

He motioned for Ulzred to sit on a nearby flat stone, its surface smoothed by time. The boy king settled down, his eyes fixed on Northern.

Northern paced slowly in front of him, choosing his words carefully.

"Language," he said, "is built on sounds and symbols. Your people and mine use different symbols to represent similar sounds. The trick is to find the bridge between them."

Ulzred nodded slowly, his expression a mix of determination and confusion. Northern took a deep breath and continued.

"Think of our runes as the skeleton of our words. Each rune has a specific sound, a part of the whole word. Your language, the tongue of monsters, uses similar building blocks but arranges them differently."

He bent down, tracing a simple rune in the snow with a twig.

"This," he said, "is the rune for 'A'. In your language, it would be more like this." He altered the symbol slightly, merging the curves and lines into a form more familiar to Ulzred.

Ulzred leaned forward, his fingers tracing the new symbol.

"It looks like the rune for 'Ah' in our tongue."

Northern nodded.

"Exactly. And this similarity is what we'll use to learn. Many of our runes have counterparts in your language. We just need to map them out and practice."

He stood back, letting Ulzred absorb the information.

The boy's eyes darted between the symbols, his lips moving silently as he tried to memorize them.

"Now, let's start with something simple," Northern continued. He drew another rune next to the first, then a third, forming a word. "This is 'Ice'. In your language, it would look like this." He modified the runes slightly, simplifying them into shapes Ulzred would recognize.

"Eyes," Ulzred said slowly, piecing the sounds together.

After repeating Northern's words, Ulzred picked up the twig and wrote on the ground as he pronounced each word.

He wrote 'subject', then 'ruler', and looked at Northern with a somber expression.

He shook his head and drew an arrow between the words, indicating they should be swapped.

A small frown creased Northern's brows.

"What does this mean?" he wondered. Then his eyes narrowed as he sensed the White Walkers coming.

A sad smile crossed his lips as he spoke to the boy.

"I guess our lesson ends here for today. We'll continue tomorrow... hopefully."

He erased all the writing in the snowy ground and looked to his left, where three White Walkers were approaching.

They bowed slightly to Northern and more deeply to the boy king.

Northern watched as the boy king stood up, showing no joy, and was escorted away. He couldn't help but ponder what the boy had just tried to communicate.

The more he thought about it, the more worry clouded his mind.

He sat down tiredly on the flat stone Ulzred had occupied minutes ago and reflected deeply.

Instead of returning to the settlement to enjoy the attention and respect of the people, Northern decided to stay and practice more with his sword.

Northern continued to practice, the voice's teachings echoing in his mind.

He focused on the interplay between his breath and his movements, seeking a deeper connection with the sword.

Hours passed as he swung the blade, each motion more precise than the last, his body becoming a vessel of disciplined power.

As twilight approached, casting long violet shadows across the ice-scape, Northern paused to catch his breath.

He stared into the horizon as the sky began to glow with those familiar colors again.

He sighed and dismissed his sword.

"I think I should rest..."

He really needed it, and he hadn't eaten anything all day.