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Andarien didn't answer Daemon. It wasn't that he was being rude, or at least, he wasn't trying to be; and it wasn't because Daemon was so bright (Lancaeriel after all was still brighter); but it was because, plain and simply, Andarien still did not understand any language other than Common Elvish, despite the lessons that had taken place over the past few weeks.

Daemon's smile didn't help Andarien to feel any better. He could hardly see it behind the glowing.

Frightened of this new and very bright person, he shuffled behind Lin, whose wings offered more protection than his father's long legs.

Andarien poked his head out again when he heard Daemon speaking in Common Elvish, his ears pricking up slightly.

"Nana," he said, tugging on Lin's shirt to get her attention. "Who is that, Nana? He's really bright ..."

He glanced at Daemon again, very very quickly, and then looked back up at Lin, blinking at her through the dark lenses.

Neither of those explanations did Andarien any good: the first because he had only a vague idea what a grandmother was, and had never met any of his grandparents; and the second, because he quite plain and simply did not understand a single word of it.

He pouted up at Lin. "Nana! What's he saying?"

Andarien pouted at Daemon, but he didn't say anything further. He was a bit put out that the man knew Common Elvish but had chosen to speak a different language anyways. He still wasn't sure he liked him very much - both because of the language thing and because he glowed so brightly.

"I think it would be good to get something for him, made for him," Earendil spoke up, picking up Andarien and sitting down on the ground with the boy in his lap so that he couldn't hide behind Lin anymore. "I'm amazed at how long he went without us noticing that anything was going on ... now that we know about it, it's really clear how much it's really bothering him."

Quite the opposite of Lin, who couldn't sense magic in any way.

Earendil thought about it. "If Andarien was born with it," he murmured, "then there wouldn't be anything for him to ask about ... it wouldn't be anything new for him."

He glanced over at the rest of the group, who were all chatting with Nadya, Gion, Galdor and Galdor's wife and children. "The only reason it even came out was when we met Lancaeriel, over there," he pointed the woman out to Daemon. "Andarien said she was very ... glowy."

Earendil nodded thoughtfully. Daemon had confirmed what little they already knew about her: that she was old, very old, and that she had powers that none of them could even imagine.

"I think the only one of us who knows anything at all about her is Iorlas," he murmured, pointing her out to Daemon as well. "They've known each other for a very long time. For the rest of us, she's a bit of a mystery. Very pleasant, always willing to answer questions, but doesn't give a lot of information about herself when she does."

"That's very true," Earendil agreed. "And you're right, magic like hers is extremely rare. I only know of one person who might come close to having her power, and that's only because of extenuating circumstances."

Rhea was born from the direct intervention of the Vala, it was natural for her to be more powerful than any other elf.

"Do you see many people out here, then?" he asked, curious about it. "My understanding is that Gion doesn't leave the plantation often ..."

"Traveling, like us," Earendil grinned. "Of course. Any thoughts of traveling again? Now that you're not in the sword?"

Now that was something he never thought he'd say.

They were interrupted as Sylvar came back outside with a large pitcher of water and several glasses. "Water, anyone?" he called out, bringing it all to one of the tables that was in the yard.

Andarien licked his lips and scrambled to his feet. Even without understanding the words, he knew what water was, and he wanted it. "Waterrrrr," he murmured to himself as he ran to the table and tried to climb up on it.