The Tarutaru's eyebrows shot up so high they nearly disappeared into her fiery blonde hair. "So, different worlds... ancient languages? News to me! I always assumed everyone in existence babbled in my glorious Mothertongue."
A slow grin spread across Adachi's face. "Not everyone, apparently."
A genuine laugh burst from Shantotto, startling even the rustling leaves of the ancient grove. "Ha! Excellent! See, this chaos business ain't so bad after all, throws up the most delightful surprises! Now, back to the matter at hand – how come you spoke my ancient tongue in that first yell-fest? Or was that just gibberish you picked up somewhere and spat out in fear?"
Adachi faltered. The question caught him off guard, the memory of his frantic cry sending a shiver down his spine. "It... it's my native language. I didn't even know it was ancient."
Shantotto froze. It was as if a bolt of lightning had struck the grove, momentarily silencing the crickets and birds. Her eyes, sharp as enchanted daggers, locked onto Adachi's, searching for any hint of deceit. This wasn't just an unexpected summon; this was a walking riddle, a living paradox wrapped in a mystery cloak.
"Native language?" she echoed, her voice low and dangerous. "You mean to tell me, some random boy from another world just... happens to speak the forgotten tongue of my long-dead ancestors?"
Adachi, sensing her rising tension, squirmed under her gaze. "I... I don't know how to explain it," he stammered. "I grew up speaking it. Everyone in my world does."
The Tarutaru's mind was a tempest, a whirlwind of theories and possibilities. Could this be a descendant of her people, somehow lost to time and space? Was this the long-forgotten key to unlocking the secrets of her past, a whisper of a lost civilization echoing across the aether?
"Tell me about your world," she commanded, her voice a husky growl. "Everything. The land, the people, the customs. Speak, boy, before I turn you into a toad and see if you croak in ancient rhymes."
Adachi hesitated, then took a deep breath. He spoke of his home. His descriptions painted a vivid picture of a world strangely familiar, yet warped under a different sun. One moon!
Machines and electronics, not the stuff of modern textbooks. Yet, there was a sincerity in his voice, a lack of awe or wonder, that hinted at a reality far stranger than any fairytale.
When he finished, the grove held its breath. Even the leaves above seemed to strain to hear Shantotto's response. "So," she finally said, her voice laced with a quiet curiosity, "you're telling me you come from a place where people shoot fireballs from their palms without enchanting, talk to screens, and have tea parties with moon rabbits?"
Adachi chuckled, a nervous tremor that betrayed his growing unease. "Not quite that colorful, ma'am. We have cars, neon lights, and smartphones like everyone else. Magic... well, that's mostly stuff kids write about in comics and play in video games."
Shantotto felt a pang of disappointment, a deflated balloon in her mind. Yet, the puzzle remained. How could his language, the forgotten tongue of her ancestors, still thrive in this modern world?
"And the language?" she pressed, her gaze sharp as a magitek drill. "You say everyone speaks it, this... 'ancient' tongue?"
Adachi nodded. "We call it Nihongo. It's our native language, just like English or Arabic or any other. We have history books, novels, even karaoke bars dedicated to it!"
Shantotto blinked, momentarily stunned. "Karaoke bars, eh? Tell me, young bard, do these... establishments cater to a motley crew of adventurers as well? I'm picturing grizzled warriors crooning tales of wyvern hunts over pints of chocobo ale, while roguish bards pluck lutes and weave spells between ballads."
Adachi, struggling to keep up with Shantotto's imaginative leaps, chuckled. "Not quite that literal, ma'am. But there are definitely people from all walks of life, singing their hearts out to pop tunes."
Shantotto's grin widened, revealing a mischievous glint beneath her fiery bangs. "Pop tunes, you say? And these ancient poems, do they translate well to this... pop format? Imagine, if you will, a ballad of valiant knights transformed into a catchy beat for the masses! The very thought sets my magitek gears singing!"
The image of Shantotto belting out an ancient epic alongside a chorus of karaoke enthusiasts painted itself across Adachi's mind, and he couldn't help but laugh. "I think you'd give the regulars a run for their money, ma'am."
Shantotto's eyes, still sparkling with the fantasy of karaoke epics, turned steely. "Ah, but before we turn this grove into a bard's den," she began, her voice taking on a serious edge, "let me paint a picture of a different kind of song..."
Shantotto's eyes gleamed with a dangerous glint as she explained the impending threat. "Eorzea, that nest of steel and ambition, seeks to ensnare Meracydia in its web of power. Tiamet, the runaway dragon, brought word of the Alagan Empire's insatiable hunger for conquest, their warships churning across the starlit sea like ravenous beasts."
Adachi, still reeling from the whirlwind of his arrival, felt a shiver crawl down his spine. Dragons, empires, invading armies – it was a far cry from the neon lights and pop tunes of his own world. "But why attack Meracydia? What do they want here?"
Shantotto snorted, a puff of smoke escaping her nostrils. "These land-hungry Alagan hounds crave what every tyrant does – power, wealth, and dominion. Meracydia whispers of ancient magicks, lost technologies, and treasures yet to be unearthed. They'll stop at nothing to claim it all."
A fierce determination settled in her eyes. "But Shantotto the Great will not sit idly by and watch her home devoured! My summoning, though flawed, may yet prove fortuitous. You may not be the monstrous harbinger I envisioned, but perhaps... perhaps you are something far more interesting."
Her gaze bored into Adachi, searching for something hidden within his bewildered eyes. "Tell me, boy, what secrets does your world hold? Does it harbor magicks I have never dreamt of, technologies that would shame my finest magitek inventions? Speak, and perhaps you'll earn yourself a place in this grand game, not as a pawn, but as a wildcard."
Adachi hesitated, he squared his shoulders, meeting Shantotto's gaze with newfound resolve. "My world isn't like yours, ma'am. We have advanced tech, sure, but not the kind that shoots fireballs or summon humans.
A slow smile spread across Shantotto's face, as wide and mischievous as a goblin's grin. "Ah, that's it you keep talking gibberish, lad!