Welcome to Gaia! ::

"Oh, I see," Rhea grinned. "I know six, that's Common Elvish, High Elven, Ancient Tongue, Common Tongue, Dwarfish and Human! But that's only because I know them by magic, like Mama does. You're going to learn some of our languages too, aren't you? The ones that Papa writes his books in, so that you can read them, right?"

"That would be fun," Rhea admitted thoughtfully, "but what would be the point of it? No one here would understand me ..."

She shook her head. "No, I think six languages is enough," she decided. "That just makes the most sense, to learn the languages that I'll be using."

She grinned at Cindy - but suddenly her eyes widened in shock. "I forgot my staff outside!" she gaped. "I better get it before Mama and Papa notice I forgot it, I'll be back!"

And she ran out the door without looking back.

The house was quiet - far more quiet than it had ever been when Arwen had lived there with her family. Other than that, everything was the same as it had always been: the same plants in the same places, the same pictures on the walls; perhaps the only difference was that by this time, the rug in the hall, and the floors where so many children had trod in the past decades, were beginning to wear.

Yet from the upper floors, a shuffling noise could be heard: first a scuffle, then silence, then another scuffle, and a soft curse in elvish.

The scuffling stopped and a voice hollered back, "Up here! Can you give me a hand for a minute?"

And then everything fell silent once more.

"Top floor, second bedroom on the left," the voice called back. "Come on, then, it's a bit heavy with only one arm!"

The voice was strained, as if the person it belonged to was struggling with something.

The voice belonged to Arahad, now fifteen years old and very nearly grown up. At the current moment, he was holding up a bookshelf taller than himself with one arm, bracing one foot against the base of his bed to keep the bookcase from falling on him. He was surrounded by books that had fallen from the shelves, along with a few carvings and loose papers, and a shattered inkpot. The reason he was using only one arm was clear: his other arm was bound and in a sling; and with only one available arm, he wasn't able to push the bookshelf back into an upright position.

"Just help me push it back," he grunted, straining against the weight.

Lin only blinked once before rushing over and helped Arahad push the bookshelf back upright before it could actually fall on him. Once she was certain it wasn't going to fall and crush them both she looked at Arahad's arm.

"What happened?" she couldn't help but ask.