‘Mystical languages… could there be other, more spiritually potent languages in this world?’
Dorothy pondered this as she studied the annotations in the book in her hands. She had previously exchanged three Nirn Dragon language characters using the Pritt Common language. A thousand common language words were equivalent in spiritual value to just one Dragon language character.
If Dorothy wished to exchange for additional Dragon language characters solely through common languages, wouldn’t she have to learn the languages of eight different nations? Such an approach would be highly inefficient. If there were a more spiritually enriched mystic language in this world, it would undoubtedly boost her efficiency.
With this thought lingering, Dorothy returned her attention to the old book, focusing on the most important section of the extensive annotations.
Here, the annotator had simplified the cryptic elements of a fable into a clear and actionable spell—specifically, a dream mimicry spell. While the book contained numerous stories, the annotator had evidently limited their focus to a single one: the spell for the dream transformation of a thief into a bird from the tale of the Thief and the Miser.
First, let me clarify: not the entire spell requires the use of a mystical language. Only the critical keywords need to be rendered in a higher spiritual tongue. For instance, in this dream mimicry spell to transform into a bird, the language required is Harpy Tongue.
Harpy Tongue is the language of the harpies, who thrived between the Second and Third Epochs and are now nearly extinct. Their empire once dominated the skies, and thus many rituals and spells related to flight, birds, and the heavens require the use of their language—this spell included.
According to my research, the spell for dream transformation into a bird is as follows:
Note that the name ‘Shunur’ refers to a deity known in esoteric history as the ‘Black Wing of Death,’ the ‘Grim Reaper of the Sky,’ and the god of ‘Stone,’ ‘Lantern,’ and ‘Silence.’ It is said that this god once ruled the skies and was worshiped by the harpies. However, since Shunur has fallen, their name need not be treated with any special reverence. Reciting it in universal language suffices, as its inclusion is purely a matter of form, not a plea for divine power.
What matters next are the two keywords: ‘force’ and ‘balance.’ These must be spoken in Harpy Tongue. Unfortunately, my own grasp of Harpy Tongue is limited, and I do not know these specific words. However, after cross-referencing the translation of Abyssal Tongue, I have deduced two possible pronunciations: yita and yaya.
“Deduced pronunciations... Can this even be reliable?”
Dorothy muttered to herself skeptically, closing the old book. She exhaled deeply, feeling that everything was ready for her next experiment in dreaming.
She carefully placed The Dream Seeker’s Chronicles into her suitcase, locked it, and slid it under her bed. Changing into her sleepwear and turning off the light, she climbed into bed.
Under the covers, Dorothy began following the self-hypnosis technique described in the old book. The method was simple yet effective, and before long, she drifted into sleep.
Opening her eyes, Dorothy found herself back in her room. She glanced around and then climbed out of bed.
The room was eerily silent, devoid of any noise—so silent it was unsettling.
“So… I must be dreaming now?”
Speaking aloud, Dorothy looked at the gas lamp on the desk. Suddenly, the lamp flickered to life without any physical intervention.
Dorothy confirmed it—this was her dream. She was conscious within her own dream.
Satisfied, Dorothy smiled faintly. Now conscious, she could move on to her goal: casting the spell to transform into a bird and enter the Dreamscape.
Recalling the content of The Dream Seeker’s Chronicles, Dorothy closed her eyes and began to chant.
“In the name of Shunur, I shall grow wings. With force, I will soar to the heavens; with balance, I shall pass through storms.”
She recited the incantation as instructed, pronouncing most of it in the common language but using Harpy Tongue for the keywords "force" (yita) and "balance" (yaya).
As she finished the chant, Dorothy waited for the transformation. Suddenly, a purple mist enveloped her, shrouding her body. When the mist dispersed, what appeared was far from a bird.
On the floor where Dorothy had stood flopped a bizarre, grotesque fish. It measured about half a meter long, had no legs but instead sprouted clawed wings resembling featherless chicken wings, and thrashed a large, paddle-like tail against the ground. Its bulging fish eyes and gaping mouth made it look like a saltwater fish on the verge of suffocation.
With another burst of purple mist, the strange fish reverted to Dorothy, coughing amidst the dissipating smoke.
“Cough, cough… What kind of joke is this? A bird? More like a salted fish!”
Coughing and shouting in frustration, Dorothy felt doubt creep into her mind.
‘Did I mispronounce the incantation?’
She considered this possibility but dismissed it. She had memorized and practiced the spell meticulously in the waking world.
That left only one explanation…
‘The spell itself is flawed.’
Dorothy reasoned that, as per the annotator, the spell’s keywords required Harpy Tongue. However, the annotator was only semi-fluent in Harpy Tongue and had derived the pronunciations based on translations from Abyssal Tongue.
This meant that the keywords were speculative at best, and there was a high chance the annotator had confused Abyssal and Harpy pronunciations. The words Dorothy uttered might very well have been Abyssal Tongue instead…
No wonder she had turned into that absurd creature.
“This annotator… not only is their Harpy Tongue half-baked, but their translation skills are questionable too,” Dorothy sighed.
“This is outright misleading!”
Sitting at her dream-realm desk, Dorothy began to ponder her next steps.
“Without the correct Harpy Tongue pronunciations for the keywords, the spell can’t work… But I don’t know Harpy Tongue either, and the annotator’s linguistic skills are unreliable… What should I do?”
She stroked her chin, lost in thought.
“Keywords: balance… force… force… balance… fus… ro… fus! ro!”
Suddenly, an idea struck Dorothy like lightning. She slapped the desk.
“Force and balance… Don’t the two Nirn Dragon words I know correspond to these exact meanings?”
Fus in Dragon Tongue meant force. Ro meant balance.
“What if I substitute the keywords in the spell with Dragon Tongue instead?”
If the Harpy Tongue had once ruled the skies, its language etched into the heavens, then why not the dragons’ as well?
Inspired, Dorothy grabbed a sheet of paper and rewrote the spell. For symmetry, she decided to replace the fallen Harpy deity Shunur with a dragon deity from another realm: Akatosh, the Dragon God of Time from The Elder Scrolls.
Since the deity’s name was purely for format and bore no real power, Dorothy felt justified in making this change.
With the modifications complete, Dorothy’s new spell read:
“In the name of Akatosh, I shall grow wings. With fus, I will soar to the heavens; with ro, I shall pass through storms.”