Gallifreyan Language Novels & Stories

the swan spoke, but it wasn’t Miss Banfey’s voice. Gallahan’s lips broke into a proud grin. “Of course, they are, Leika. But you wouldn’t have come here just to gawk at my children, right?” “Hm.” “So anything from Zee?” The swan bobbed her head up and down in confirmation. Then the voice of Miss Banfey resonated from its mouth. “Damn you.” Gallahan cackled. It was a full-bodied laugh, twinkling with life and something that encompassed the man that Gallahan was. It was a sound that was as enchanting as the swan’s beautiful appearance.

Aconite had found out from court gossip. Of course, I had found out that within the palace walls, most people could speak Latin but was informed that there was a ‘new age’ Latin that basically everyone here spoke, or the ‘dead language’ Latin which is what Kyrell had said; Emrys had tried to explain it, but I was honestly still confused. “My father,” Emrys spoke with grit. “Cannot speak Old Latin.”

Something deeper. The prince walked forward first and sat calmly on the throne to the left side. Immediately, the guards near the stairs crossed their weapons in front of us to stop us from moving further. I looked at them carefully and nearly froze again. Their eyes were gold. Every single one of them. Which means they were Lycans. So in this place, Lycans are guards? The fuck? The prince said something to his father in a language I had never heard before. It sounded smooth and sharp at the same time. The older man answered calmly. Then the prince added something else before suddenly saying, “They speak English.” Like he was translating us.

“And she didn’t tell me…” He was quiet again. He looked down at the ruby, reached out, and picked it up. Turned it over in his hands the way I had, running his thumb over the carved symbols on the surface. “And the book,” he said. “Did she…?” “I found it in the Winter King’s palace.” I held the grimoire out to him. “It needs translating. I happen to know someone who’s very good at that kind of thing.” Karl made a face, but took the grimoire and flipped through it. Finally, he nodded. “I’ve seen this language before. It’s very old, the first recorded language in the world. It will take some time, but I could do it.”

Amelie joined our hands. “This might hurt,” she warned. “Everything lately can hurt,” I replied. She let out a brief, sad laugh, then began to sing. I didn’t understand the language. It wasn’t a werewolf, or human, or the crystalline tone of the fairies. It was an ancient tongue, rooted in the earth and the throat, a language that seemed to have been invented before anyone decided that words had to be beautiful. The mark on the back of my neck grew warm, Arsel squeezed my hand, and the oath glowed.

A language older than any of us had ever heard flowed through the hall like water finding an ancient riverbed. Seraphine's eyes widened. "I don't know that language." Neither did Eldric. Neither did Ragnar. Even Valerius and Cassian exchanged unsettled glances. Only the First Hollowed understood. When the final word faded into silence, tears rolled freely down his face. "I remember." His voice broke. "It was the Oath of the First Keepers." Eamon blinked several times before looking around in confusion. "What... did I say?" "You remembered," the First Hollowed whispered. "Nothing more." Zenith suddenly drew a quiet breath. The child had moved. A gentle warmth flowed through our bond. I rested

“You were able to read through the content?” Atariah furrowed her brows in concern. “Was I not supposed to be able to read through?” “The words were written in our ancient language, and you understood them?” She pressed on. Atariah blinked in surprise, she didn’t even realize that, as she had easily read through each page and sentence with no issue. “So?” “It is a Lupine language, still spoken by a few of us around here,” Helga added. “Well, I learned a lot of languages for fun when I was growing up. I didn’t even think this was peculiar to a particular group. So I don’t understand what you two are pointing at.” Atariah said.

What is she saying? There was silence for a few seconds, then power exploded from the body of the amber-eyed. He bared his teeth, glowering at her, well, me, in anger. "Who are you?" He shouted in a strange language. "How can you speak our mother tongue?! Outsiders, no, not even 80% of elves who aren't royals can. They know it but they can never understand it, let alone speak it!" "To know it is to die," Zinnia smiled sickly. "Do you wish to find out?"

“When we are still a child, we are all taught by our elders here and cast spells.” “Oh, I notice that you have a different language when you cast spells. And some are holding a piece of wood.” “Oh, we speak Latin in our spells.” Lana answered rather enthusiastically, and pulled out wood from her back, “You mean this? It’s called a wand. Latin is a dead language for humans…but I guess it is still used widely in this realm. I gulped, feeling like I Could learn more about this realm. I have to buy time and also keep myself from boredom before I can give birth and earn enough energy to fight and commence my escape plan.

Lilith exhaled, her shoulders relaxing as her mind ease, she shared her memories of today with Ethel. "Wow," Ethel said as the memory of him fingering her appeared. Soon Ethel found the right memory, "Hontiamos relavesia." She whispered in Purtaliamas Darci's realm's language, each realm had its own language and culture, Darci was a Purtalian. The wind went through their hair as she did the spell whispers were heard suddenly Ethel lets go of her hand. "So is he telling the truth?" Lilith asked, knowing he was. "No."