Mundus: A Theological Account: A Dįvonësë Chronicle

Chapter 1 - On the Subject of Ångëlįc and Dæmönic Existence

2622 A.G.G. (11 Years Ago)

Castle Įcħor-Nåbįlå, North of the Yavan Mountains
The Continent of Kazakoto

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Samahdemn

"Dad, I can't understand them." she said as she looked up at me; her little eyes as clear as black diamonds with centers of polished amethyst, yet clouded with the confusion of a child just out of her ten and second name day, struggling to find understanding. "What language is that?"

"They're speaking in the Goddess' tongue, Åålįÿåħ." I answered as I brushed one of her tiny steel gray locs out of her eyes.

"I thought Ångëls talked common, like us."

"They do. But only sometimes; when they're here, existing at our sides. But when they're home? They only converse in the way. You were far too young to remember, but your Godmother spoke it to you once on the day you were born; the very first words you heard when you left your mother's womb.

"She spoke to you so sweetly, that I could have sworn that you were captivated into silence. She sang to you a song in Ångëlįc so beautiful that when you heard it, you cooed; almost as if you were want to sing along."

Her wide eyes looked inquisitively to the Ångëlįcs in front of us, then, after a long moment, back to me.

"Do you understand them?" she asked.

"I do now." I said with a nod. "But I didn't always."

"Can you teach me?"

"I could. But I wonder how necessary it is. You don't really need me to show you; being as you are."

"I don't understand. You're not saying I should...pry it from you, are you?" she expressed to me as she made an audible ick sound and her little body recoiled at the thought. "I don't like the thought of that dad."

"That's not what I meant baby girl. Of course I'll show you if that's your wish. But you're more special than you realize right now. And your gifts are fated to be...vast. What I'm trying to say is, I could show you the way, but when you're ready, you won't need me to."

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On the Subject of Ångëlįc and Dæmönic Speak

Beings that inhabit the Planes aren't partial to common speak, regardless of what's taught within abbey halls by covenant priestesses, nor do the denizens of the Dæmönic Realms move about through their existence speaking is as the priests of the oratory claim. A mistruth that likely stems from scrolls cloistered away among the world's largest repositories of religious knowledge dating back nearly to the beginning of recorded history, when Ångëlįc presence in the living world was still prevalent. Before the Fall. Before the War of the Drågons. Before the secreting away of the Goddess' Tree and the Great Departure of Ångëlįcs and s from Mundus.

During such times, they did indeed indulge in common for the sake of mortals' understanding. But these other-worldy beings have their own tongues. And while common may be the most widely spoken language in the natural world, that's not something that carries over to the here-after. Not the way people think it does.

The reality is quite different.

The Dįvonësë have a natural tongue for languages. And when one's immortal soul leaves this world for the gates of the Dįvįnë realm of Ëmpÿrë, it's a gift that's bestowed to them, along with an understanding of Ångëlįc speech by one of the mighty Ångëls of the Åkårmåuru order.