"Over here," Orien says, opening one of the books lying on the desk. Inric makes his way over cautiously. Knawan Ysenna smiles from her corner but doesn't interrupt. "This is silphium," Orien says, pointing to the page. "Do you know it?" Inric looks at it, and nearly forgets to breathe. The drawing is stylised and odd, surrounded by elegant script he recognises as Garan, but next to it in a childish hand is written an Eldarin word. "Lassewort," he murmurs, touching the page as though it might be a hallucination. "I worked on the translations with my friend Tiero," Orien says proudly. Inric looks at her. "You speak Eldarin?" he asks, in Eldarin.