He's still not entirely sure he's understood it. It could mimic any number of spells, if it's a racial ability. Still, better to save face and end the conversation now.

They can test out the boundaries of his skills in combat.

Finally, the mysterious prime finally becomes interesting. She'd been wondering.

She isn't going to bother trying to talk to it, but she will give it the choice of weapons: unarmed, brass knuckles, hammer, horseshoe...?

Areus is very excited about this. Do the brass knuckles or the horseshoe fit him? He will go with the hammer. In his hand is small on his hand, but he is more familiar with it.

The hammer seems like the best bet, after investigation of the relative size of their fingers. She picks up a hammer of her own, and hands him one. They start ten paces from each other. She isn’t sure how well he heals, or whether he’ll do something stupid like hit her in the knees. She can’t kill it until they can explain what alignment is properly, according to those with the authority to tell her to play nice.

She takes position.

Areus takes his position as well. Or rather, he flows into it. Holding the hammer like it was a familiar thing. He grins and apparently waits for her to make the first move.

She runs straight towards it, screaming as loud as she possibly can. She will apologize for this later, if anyone asks for one, but for now...she tries to strike.

Fun. Too telegraphed, but this means he can really show off. It almost looks like he is just going to take the hit, but instead Areus catches the hammer with his hand and directs all that lovely momentum to disarm her from her hammer. He, of course, is smiling very cockily by the end of it.

...well. She'd wanted to provoke a flinch that she could take advantage of, but she underestimated it. It's more intelligence than she gave it credit for. They didn't establish any rules about what happens in the case of a lost weapon, hampered as they are by her refusal to learn any of its language. She holds up her hands, admitting defeat anti-climatically.

Although she's not smiling, she seems to be more relaxed in his presence than she has previously.

"She name Vlathyn," he adds, in case Areus cares about that sort of thing.

He's not particularly watching them, though. His attention is on a loudly arguing group of adults and children nearby.

"Thanks. More combat Vlathyn?" Areus asks her.

He was aware of the loud argument, mostly because he is just aware of any aggressive behavior around him. But is there any reason why Merves would be paying attention to it?

The argument appears to be mostly personal; it's a family discussing one of the children's intent to emigrate for their education.

Merves appears to want to interrupt them due to personal annoyance at having to witness their public argument.

"Yes."

Spurred by her previous loss, Vlathyn appears determined to win the next bout. She picks up the horseshoe, looking at him questioningly.

He understands that as using the same weapon again. Or even if it's not that, he assumes there won't be any trouble. He feels the (lack) of weight with the horseshoe on his hand and once again flows into the combat stance.

Fighting with horseshoes, similar to fighting with hammers, is really a matter of who hits first. She has no special advantages compared to the average member of her species. When he lands another hit, this time, she doesn't seem raring to go for another round. That'll hurt in the morning.

He offers his apologies.

She doesn't particularly understand them and having to have an apology translated takes some of the power from it. She does a gesture that he doesn't recognize-

-which their translator hurriedly translates, despite their lack of vocabulary as:

"Friend. Repeat tomorrow?"

"Yes. Friend." Grin.

Then they can call it a night here. Areus can assist with a few other menial tasks, which Merves thinks he's likely wasted on. They spend much of the next week like that: learning more about what Areus can do, what his people need, and what the city could use them for. Explaining alignment looks to be a significant project, though. They don't manage a satisfactory explanation, despite several frustrating attempts to do so.

Areus thinks he has progressed on learning the intricacies of alignment. But it's progress relative to "add words" once a day in a highly philosophical topic.

The fact that most of his family is rather book smart and curious about philosophical aspects is working against him just not accepting things as it is. Merves might not be trustworthy, but has been helpful so far. Usually people that call themselves "evil" are less socially competent than that. He can just imagine his half-siblings talking at length on the topic while Areus and his father just nod along.

Speaking of his father.

A week or so after Areus' sudden arrival a ghostly visage appears during his downtime. He and Areus proceed to talk in hurried tones.

That sure is indicative of a magic system very different than their own, or a powerful caster. He steps out to give them some privacy, but tries to eavesdrop.

"Dad, finally. Why did it take you guys so long?"

"We are still busy with the end of the world, Areus." The figure's voice can be... understood, despite not speaking any languages Merves knows. "This world is weird, the scholars explained it is several worlds sort of together like a whole. Which makes our way of targeting less reliable."