"Yeah, that's just intended as a prognosis."

Leareth nods, eats in silence for a bit.

"You have somewhat more information on me and my operations, now," he says. "This may well not be enough to decide if you wish to cooperate. I am curious what you feel you would need to know, for it to become possible for us to establish a working relationship." 

"It sort of depends on what kind of working relationship you mean. Obviously I'm accepting your hospitality."

"There is that." Leareth smiles. "There is also the question of whether at some point you will be willing to share your outside resources, or coordinate together on a plan to address some of the problems in this world. Or in other worlds, I suppose, but this one has been my home for the last several thousand years and I am somewhat attached to it."

He glances away. "I am curious what your friends from Arda think of me. I assume you have mentioned it to them." 

"I have mentioned you, yes. The aforementioned prince assumes you probably speak several hundred languages and is metaphorically drooling over it."

"Really. I mean, I do – well, not ones I am currently fluent in, I am not able to keep all of my memories over time. However, my records likely span that many. Still, that is the most interesting fact about my existence? He must be very fond of languages." 

"They hadn't invented writing, when I came - and he saw me reading one of the books I landed with - and he thought it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. He speaks Valdemaran much better than I do in spite of having to get all of it through me. It is definitely, to him, the most interesting fact about your existence."

Leareth smiles again. "Well, you can tell him I would be delighted to teach him what languages I know if ever the opportunity arises. I appreciate people who wish to know and understand something so strongly." 

She finishes her breakfast. "I'll pass it on. I'm expecting most of the rest of my day to be eaten by the scroll though."

"Noted." Leareth finishes his plate as well and rises, nodding to her before heading off in the direction of the library. 

She goes back to scrollifying the teleport.

Vanyel drifts over to watch her for the last bit. 

"Hi. Almost done." Draw draw draw. Where Fëanáro's scroll looks like a calligraphy masterpiece and an abstract wall hanging had a baby, hers is more gridded, boxy, utilitarian.

"Why are there two that are different?" Vanyel asks, curious.

"Advanced spells are very complicated. To be able to do one, you have to be able to fit it into your head, but everybody at some point runs into a limit on how well they can do that with standardized notation. People use different ways of condensing and marking all the concepts they need to juggle in a way that meshes better with how they think, and no two wizards write a complicated spell the same way. Sometimes there's even a few ways to do the same one in the same notation - big paper is most efficient in terms of how long it takes to write down, but there's ways to do it paginated in books, or all lengthwise in a more standard scroll. Once it's written down, there's magic that lets you understand somebody else's notation, there's a spell for it which is simple enough to learn the standard notation way, but if you want to get the spell down permanently as opposed to just cast it once you want to write it down your own way and study that. So I had Fëanáro write down his, stare at it so I could see it through his eyes and copy it just how he had it, cast the spell so I could understand it a bunch of times since then because I can't cast the spell through him so I need my own scroll of it, and copy it into my own."

"That sounds annoying and complicated but I guess at least you have it now." Vanyel fidgets. "Um, are you almost ready to go for dinner?" 

"Yeah, now's fine." She sets down her inkwell.

Vanyel trails her to the dining hall. It's fairly empty but there are a few people sitting around; one is a group that's filled their table, but there's also a man, one of the people Leareth introduced as scholars, sitting at an otherwise-open table with a book open. 

Bella collects a plate and sits wherever Vanyel's gotten to.

Vanyel's taken a seat at the far end of the table from the man with the book, who looks up. "Oh. Heya. You're the ones from Valdemar, no?" 

"I'm not exactly from there but yes. Is Valdemaran a really common language? I've been surprised how many of the personnel here speak it."

"Well, it is the nearest large state – Iftel doesn't count, giant wall and all that." The man looks down at his plate. "And, well, I sort of came from the region, originally." 

"Yeah? What got you working here?"

"In this facility? I was doing some original research, I guess it was impressive, and Leareth invited me to join the team here." 

"In his organization in general. I guess he can pay well, though I have seen no evidence of long-term interest-bearing accounts that would make that really easy so I don't know where his funding comes from, come to think of it."