What a strange inner life you must have, to spend so long answering a simple question. But even with this new agreement between them he said they could 'limit their time how they liked', and he supposes that goes both ways.
Lemm busies himself examining the Arcane Egg again while he waits. With the information presented so cleanly, translation is much easier, and there's nothing missing where a chisel slipped or a caliper pried too hard. Parchment is laid on the counter, and for a while the only sound is the rain outside and the scratching of his pen.
He catches their small motion without glancing up. "Good," he says, and goes back to writing. "Geo's what drives a scavenger, and scavengers don't learn anything." He finishes scribbling and gives a resigned sigh as he commits to sharing what he's got.
"Reverence to the dark. This I already knew. Though in this case it's presented oddly, paired with some indication of a self wherever it's mentioned. I'd have missed it in the others - too fragmented." A pause. "'Dark' isn't right, either. If I wasn't careful I'd translate it to absence-of-the-self, but that's where the grammar breaks down." He twirls the quill thoughtfully. "I'm a very careful translator. But absence-with-a-self is impossible, so we're back to square one..."
He looks up, finally, at the wanderer brooding in his shop. He looks very thoughtfully at the way the light seems to vanish into those dark tendrils like there's nothing there at all.
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Date: 2022-11-05 09:33 am (UTC)Lemm busies himself examining the Arcane Egg again while he waits. With the information presented so cleanly, translation is much easier, and there's nothing missing where a chisel slipped or a caliper pried too hard. Parchment is laid on the counter, and for a while the only sound is the rain outside and the scratching of his pen.
He catches their small motion without glancing up. "Good," he says, and goes back to writing. "Geo's what drives a scavenger, and scavengers don't learn anything." He finishes scribbling and gives a resigned sigh as he commits to sharing what he's got.
"Reverence to the dark. This I already knew. Though in this case it's presented oddly, paired with some indication of a self wherever it's mentioned. I'd have missed it in the others - too fragmented." A pause. "'Dark' isn't right, either. If I wasn't careful I'd translate it to absence-of-the-self, but that's where the grammar breaks down." He twirls the quill thoughtfully. "I'm a very careful translator. But absence-with-a-self is impossible, so we're back to square one..."
He looks up, finally, at the wanderer brooding in his shop. He looks very thoughtfully at the way the light seems to vanish into those dark tendrils like there's nothing there at all.