He sighed and scratched his head. "I can speak many languages, but this one is unlike any of them. It doesn't even have connections with the language of the Ancients - you can usually find at least one similarity between their language and modern ones."
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
He thought for a moment. How was he supposed to explain such an influential race? "They were one of the most advanced civilizations the universe has ever seen," he started. He quickly glanced up at the sky. "They traveled the galaxies and made things you and I could only dream of. They built interstellar ships. They created portals called stargates that connected every planet they ever visited. They even created new life - though that ultimately failed. They looked just like humans. They eventually died out, but their descendants live on among the human race. I'm sure there's people here who carry their blood."
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
"They sound like it," she answers, returning the smile.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
Even though the mention of the Ancients should have made him sad, he felt a warm, bubbly feeling when he remembered the time he had spent with them. He could never have the childhood most races had, but the years he spent under their care and guidance was the closest he would ever come to it. Was this what humans felt when they thought about the people who raised them?
"When do you think Shyriik will be back?" he asked.
"Five minutes max, I'd imagine. She's not too far out. Ah, I see, she's getting sidetracked..." her eyes turn gold for a moment, then return to their normal emerald.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
"A rabbit, nothing interesting, unforun...oh. Oh, she killed the rabbit and found something on the ground."
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
"She's got something really interesting, actually." Rowan turns and breaks into a jog, racing into the woods.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
Shyriik is on the ground on a large rabbit, which she's killed and is now eating. Rowan steps over her and approaches a small, glowing object on the ground.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
He tentatively approached the object. It looked unfamiliar, and he had learned that touching strange new things was never a good idea. He looked over at Rowan. Did she recognize it?
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