Chapter Four- Coming to an Understanding

~*~

Adriana looked around herself worriedly.

This is really not good.

For some reason, after following the young man into the town, she’d managed to offend what seemed to be the ranking ruler of the town.. or city, or whatever this was.

Great. Wonderful first impression you made here, Adi, she thought to herself sourly. Then she frowned. But why did that man run from me in the first place? What did I do? The women here don’t seem to be that much different from me, save for the clothes… does he just not like outlanders or something?

She looked around herself, taking inventory- she hadn’t been parted from her weapons or the amulet she wore that held her only key back home, thankfully. However, she was in a rather cold, dark dungeon.

How cliché can you get? This must be some sort of medieval time period, though they apparently have magic of some sort or I wouldn’t be here. Hmm. Maybe the ranking… oh, forget it.

Adriana sighed and looked up at her only means of light in the dungeon- a small window overhead, showing that it was now going onto early afternoon.

She looked down and held her amulet tightly.

I could leave, but that would cause a few too many questions in my home. Awkward questions. And I wouldn’t be able to come back, now that I’ve somehow offended the people here. It’d be best if I stuck around and tried to make amends. Though I don’t have any idea how…

A rat squeaked and scampered by. Adriana watched it with the expression one generally used when they were interested in watching a bug or something equally unpleasant. It squeaked again, then ran off into the darkness.

Oh for the love of-! This is so annoying. And cliché. At least in the other civilized places they have clean dungeons with light! Don’t they know this is bad for your health?

She sighed once more, shivered, and then looked back up to the light.

Then, plaintively, she asked, What is going on?

~*~

Tristen looked up as the door to his room opened once more, absently wiping his forehead with a damp cloth. This time, the entrance was much more calm; his brother, Eratu, was relaxing in his chambers at the moment, and was apparently asleep, from the drowsy feeling that came from the back of the elder of the brother’s mind.

This time, the one who entered did not run, but strolled. He wasn’t dressed in hunting leathers; he was in a set of dark blue robes that marked him as who he was- a Night Mage. He carried no weapon, as was the rule of Mages of his order, but walked with a staff to throw at attackers should he need time to gather his magic. His hood was back, revealing a slightly flushed face, but he wasn’t sweating half as much as Tristen- probably, Tristen suspected, because he was using an ice spell of some sort.

The young man in the dark robes gave a little bow. “You asked for me, Lord Tristen?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, Darian. I need you to do a favor for me.”

“Indeed. I gathered that.”

Tristen rolled his eyes. “I have someone who doesn’t speak our language.”

“Ah. And you’re too lazy to translate yourself. I see.”

Now Tristen was annoyed. “I’ll have you know, Mage, that she doesn’t understand any sort of language that I know. I’ve asked her questions in the four languages I know, and even a hint of High Elven, but she gives me the same, blank stare.”

“Hmm. Perhaps she’s from the islands off the main east coast?” the mage mused.

“Wherever she’s from, she seems to be freezing in this weather- the gods know why. And she claims to be A’dia’na.”

The mage paused. “Really now,” he said at last.

“That’s all you can say?”

“….”

“She threatened my brother with death, but doesn’t seem able to cast spells. She can’t speak our language, but insists she’s A’dia’na, though she adds an odd accent to it.”

“Hmm….” Darian thought about this for a long moment.

“Well? Willing to do your favor for me so you can move on?”

“Why not. Take me to her, and I’ll be your translator. Whether or not she’s who she claims to be, this ought to be an interesting event.”

~*~

Adriana looked up, blinking, as the cell was opened. At least the people had common sense in this case; the door seemed to be some sort of metal, as was the doorway, save for a small window where the guard could look in to see what the captive was up to.

The guard, as it was, only gave her a cursory glance before opening said door, and letting two men enter.

One she recognized as the ranking ruler of the area she was in. She’d politely asked him who he was before, and had ended up offending him, somehow. Now, he looked a bit calmer, though he seemed to glance at his companion often.

As for the companion…

Adriana blinked again as he approached her, apparently without any concern for his own safety. Well, confidence was a good thing, as long as whatever he meant to do was friendly. If he tried anything otherwise, she may yet have to leave and give up this assignment, praying she wouldn’t be fed to the dogs when she got home.

But all he did was give her a small smile, a sarcastic-seeming bow, and kneel beside her. Adriana looked at him questioningly as he held up a hand to her forehead, opening her mouth to ask what he thought he was doing.

Before she could, however, he smiled at her, and murmured something while using his free hand to close her mouth for her. She obeyed the wish for silence, wondering why it was necessary.

It was explained a moment later, when Darian pulled back, looked at her sharply, and said, “Now, who did you say you were?”

~*~

Her language wasn’t particularly difficult, once one knew the cadences with which to speak. Even some of the words seemed similar to his home’s language, though a few others had entirely different (and some rather inappropriate) meanings.

When Darian pulled back to ask the girl who she was, her eyes widened with surprise. He felt a wave of satisfaction flow over himself at that; that look was the main way to tell if his spell casting had worked.

While Night Mages’ abilities were mainly for offensive magic, Darian also came from a line of Light Mages, somewhat mixing his abilities. As such, he could extend his abilities of language to the point where, if he had the time, he could learn any language he wished, at any time.

After a moment, the girl replied.

“Who am I? I’ve been telling you who I am! Who are you? What right have you got to throwing me in a clichéd dungeon with little rats and little light! Do you know how unhealthy that is?!”

Tristen blinked at the onslaught of questions that the girl was shooting back at his mage. “What’s she saying?” he questioned.

Darian switched back to his own language, tossing his dark red locks out of his face to look at the lord. “She’s not happy about being in a dungeon,” he answered wryly.

“Tell her she’ll have to get used to it if she doesn’t answer our questions,” Tristen ordered.

Darian obeyed.

The girl replied, “I refuse to answer questions unless and until I’m taken to a more civilized place and treated like a human being! I was polite before, but if you’re going to be rude like this I don’t see why I have to comply with your demands!”

“Polite?” Tristen demanded. “You call telling my brother to die being polite?”

Darian asked the girl that question.

“I did not!” she responded. “I told him my name was Adriana, and asked him what his name was! Really!”

Darian and Tristen both paused after the mage translated that response. “What did she call herself?” Lord Tristen asked carefully.

“Adriana,” Darian said, looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Adriana? Not A’dia’na?” Tristen persisted, looking concerned.

“Yes, definitely Adriana.” Darian looked at his friend and lord. “I believe we’ve been the victims of a vital misunderstanding here, my lord. You’d best apologize before she has an apoplectic fit.”

~*~