Arknights Welcome to Terra Continent

"I have no intention of judging your origin by race. Although you have deliberately chosen words that are more in line with our habits, your accent still gives you away - this is the accent of a Victorian aristocrat who has received a Londinium standard education."

This is what we commonly call official language, but people don't pay much attention to it nowadays.

"As expected of a great poet, very perceptive."

Horn nodded. What he said was indeed right. It would be very difficult to change a language once one has learned it since childhood.

"The first step in creation is observation. I can even see that your intentions are different from theirs."

"Oh?"

Horn raised his brows slightly, looked at the poet in front of him and asked, "Are you doubting me?"

The man in front of him shook his head and simply replied, "What are you doubting? I came here just to exchange some ideas, and you are communicating with me."

"Even though I'm not from Tara?"

"Rather, it's because you're not from Tara."

The originally awkward atmosphere between the two was eased a lot by this sentence.

“Language and writing are created for communication, including conversations about the past and the future, as well as casual conversations between you and me here and now.”

As expected of Terra, there are many poets who are very good at telling riddles.

"You are being considerate of me. If you had used Tara, I would have been deaf."

“Haha, but actually you can hardly hear Tara language in this banquet, even though most people are Tara people.”

The poet said with a smile.

"Yes, that's why I wonder why all your works I've read are written in Victorian?"

Logically speaking, a poet should use the language of his hometown to write truly touching poems.

The poet was stunned for a moment, then said with a helpless smile.

"I really like reading poems written in Gutala. Reading these words is like touching another side of history."

The poet pulled out of his bosom a book of poems, something he always carried with him, even if the words he wrote were different from those in the book.

"But I'm not going to pretend. I grew up speaking Victorian, and my thoughts have been shaped by the language. If I were to write in Tara, I'd be a clown dancing in the wrong shoes."

It turned out that Victoria's transformation of all Tara people had come to an end. Under normal circumstances, there should be no difference in a few years.

To be honest, this is not necessarily a bad thing, but... as an outsider, I am not qualified to judge their ideas.

However, the suffering they cause must naturally be borne by themselves.

"But I heard that many people are eager for the revival of Tara culture."

The Horn spoke.

"Of course, I am one of them."

When talking about this, the poet's eyes lit up and he could hardly suppress his excitement.

“Our city wanders on a land that is both unchanging and changing all the time.”

“Perhaps one day Tara will once again become the language that structures our children’s minds, and I would love to embrace that change.”

The poet held the collection of poems tightly in his hands.

"If... No, this is just a luxury. I hope that in the last moments of my life, I can write my own poems in Tara. For me, I am willing to spend my whole life pursuing it."

"But what if someone hopes that the change will be rapid, or even reverse the natural trend?"

Horn asked, at least for now, this seems to be the case.

The poet fell into deep thought, and then began to chant softly.

"What's the use of thinking? You plant a feather in the soil and imagine it growing into a feathered animal."

"It's from the second chapter of your first published poetry collection. It's one of my favorites."

Horn quickly found the location of this poem in his memory.

Apart from various military theory books, she generally does not read other books, but she loves these poetry collections very much.

"This is my answer to this question. In my own eyes, I cannot and do not want to change this land. I am just the one who tries to plant feathers."

"I hope someone can see this feather and then go after the real feathered beast. The feathered beast that grows in everyone's heart may be different, so the feathered beast they find will naturally be different."

"Just like everyone has different expectations for the future of this land."

Feathered beast...?

Beichen, who was eavesdropping on their conversation from a distance, couldn't help but start thinking about it.

"After getting that feather, everyone has a different idea of ​​what the feathered beast actually looks like."

"But it's far more than that. If I just want to find an ordinary feathered beast, maybe I can find one by squatting in the woods for half an hour."

"If what I want is a feathered beast that is pure white without a single stray hair, I might have to spend more than half a month in the dangerous forest to get it."

"What if I want to find a colorful feathered beast?"

"Beichen, what are you thinking about?"

Feng Di, who was standing by, asked curiously. She saw that Bei Chen had been in a daze for a long time.

"I was wondering if you felt something was amiss, like the noisy crowd outside the house?"

Beichen answered while looking at the street outside the window.

"Oh, it seems to be true. No, I have to inform the captain immediately!"

Bagpipe also realized something, and quickly stood up and ran towards the horn.

"I see, Mr. Williams, let me say from the bottom of my heart, it's really a pleasure to talk to you."

Horn has always admired such people.

"Captain! Something's wrong!"

As soon as the poet left, the bagpipe came running over.

"What happened?"

"Cello and the others haven't sent any messages in over forty minutes. They're supposed to be in the barracks dealing with the garrison, so they need to send messages every half hour."

"........"

"Besides, look at the streets, everyone has disappeared. Captain, is there anyone coming?"

Bagpipe pointed outside the window and said anxiously.

"Could it be?"

A possibility suddenly appeared in Horn's mind.

"Could it be that the people who followed us before were from the garrison?"

"You two, things are about to get interesting. Get your weapons ready."

Beichen also came over at this time, and with a wave of his right hand, the weapons of the two appeared in front of them.

"Beichen, what are you going to do?"

"Me? I'll go hide for a while."