The Dragon Tongue

The first speech of Aevrya is older than the empire. The words were not symbols. They were acts. To name a thing was to form it. That rule still holds in Year 317.

Over centuries the first speech fractured into four sacred tongues. Each one carries a piece of the original. Each one works inside its own discipline.

The Four Sacred Tongues

DRAGON TONGUE (Šēmar Draka). The primal speech. Harsh, commanding, deliberate. The tongue of creation and binding. Every name carries intent. Every syllable carries form.

ELVEN TONGUE (Léir na Coille). Lyrical and dual. Every word names two things at once: what the thing is, and what it does. The tongue of harmony and healing.

DWARVEN TONGUE (Khazad-Baruk). Blunt and enduring. Hard consonants that strike like a hammer. The tongue of stone, forge and endurance.

WOODLAND TONGUE (Sìth-Chàn). Whispering. Soft consonants and flowing vowels. The tongue of life, peace and mist.

The four tongues are echoes of one another. A healing word in one answers a healing word in another. A binding word in one is heard in the rest. Only the Dragon Tongue compels reality absolutely. The other three persuade it.

What Makes The Dragon Tongue Different

In the Dragon Tongue, the word is the act. To say a name is to give the thing a shape. To say a bond is to make the bond. To say a fire is to call the fire.

This is also why the Dragon Tongue is dangerous. A speaker who picks the wrong word does not just say the wrong thing. The wrong thing happens. The speaker pays for it. So does whatever was nearby.

What Remains Of It

In Year 317, almost no one in Aevrya still speaks the Dragon Tongue with confidence. What survives is fragments. A word in a hearth charm. A word in a healer’s chant. A word in a lullaby that the singer no longer knows is more than a lullaby.

The other three tongues survived better. The elves kept their archives. The dwarves kept their forge-songs. The Sylthic kept their whispers. The Dragon Tongue asked more of its speakers than the other three, and that is why so little of it survives.