"Magic isn't supposed to hurt us!" one of the Calonian orcs bellowed, panic cracking through his guttural roar as another wave of flame tore through his ranks.
Leonhart heard it clearly and froze mid-swing. The orc's words rang in his mind as plainly as Kaelindor's common tongue.
He stared at the creature in disbelief, his gryphon banking sharply under him as instinct took over and his blade still found flesh. But his thoughts lagged behind the battle for a heartbeat too long.
"I understood that." Moments later, another realization struck him even harder.
He had been talking earlier to Alariel, the elf queen, without even thinking about it. And the elf queen had responded immediately. No hesitation. No confusion. He wasn't supposed to understand the tongue of Aerthysia's high elves.
The odds of Kaelindor, Aerthysia, and Calonian sharing a common language were near nonexistent.
