The language of sorcery has many melodies and many meanings. That is what magic is, a string of melody enrapt in glyphs of power that each have multiple meanings when applied to the objective of a spellsong. Wizards spend lifetimes studying the meaning, the making, and the memory of magic, whilst other, more gifted beings are, in a way, born with it, a kind of preternatural understanding of magic’s ways, like a falcon is born to know the sky. These ‘gifted wizards’ are called sorcerers and are very rare. Sorcerers rely on sheer will power, rather than the accumulation of knowledge through study and practice. Should a wizard want to produce fire from thin air, they would apply a careful expertise to recite and conjure it. Should a sorcerer wish to produce fire, they would will it and it would be so. For wizards the glyphs are words, uttered and written. But for Sorcerers, those glyphs are like fingers and hands, reaching and working the world as skillfully as a potter works their clay.
The language of sorcery is believed to be the eldest of languages in Eem, a glyphic tradition, it was said to have been created by miracle workers and sorcerous elders, ages before the first dynasty of the Hamarung Empire. The language, in its purest form, is most certainly the work sorcerers. Raw and elemental, the eldest forms of the language carry with them a sort of taint, akin to a lingering darkness associated with the accumulation of power for the sake of power. However, as time passed the language was adopted by many kinds of folk, and has for generations been broken down into dozens of disciplines and focuses. The old, raw language of sorcery is very rare, if not extinct. The reason for this is that there simply are no sorcerers left, or if their are, they are extremely rare and noticeably recluse from the modern world of Eem.
The first inkling of sorcery and its language predates the fall of the sea and the emergence of the mountains of Ur. As many languages, words have several meanings, though with sorcery, these words are assembled in ways that might perplex the untrained mind–for with sorcery a word with many meanings, uttered or written, means all of those words at once, without exception.
For instance, if the glyph for “Tell” were scrawled into a scroll, the scribe would literally mean for the object of their spell: To tell, to be told, and to reveal in all aspects the action for which the spell had been evoked. A concept that is certainly understandable, but when scaled, assumes a level of near omniscience from the perspective of those unacclimated to the mysteries and power of magic.