Written by Gilles Fauconnier, 358 pages
Sylvan is a language like no other, born from the minds of creatures who are completely different from the ones on our plane. Fey are considered mischievous, unpredictable and flabbergasting, and yet will never lie, or so they claim. Their observation of time seems distorted, and they sometimes seem to hold much meaning to the simplest of interactions. All of this is reflected in sylvan, the language of fey.
It is said that no creature that wasn’t born fey can truly speak sylvan, and it’s correct - even the greatest of linguists seem to struggle with it, and even descendants of the feywild, like centaurs and satyrs, cannot fully grasp it - centaurs tend to become honest to a fault, and have a hard time understanding the concept of lying (a trait that clearly stems from the absence of lies from sylvan), but seem to completely miss the clever word plays and timeless perspective the language entails.
Satyrs are mischievous and often see words as binding contracts (just like true fey behave), but don’t seem to have a problem with lies and deceit, even when those come in direct opposition to their statements. Of course, they do not lie in sylvan itself - that is quite impossible, given the unique grammar and verbology of the language - but nonetheless.
True sylvan is unique - fey, I suspect, have no subconscious, or at least not like we do. They always mean what they say, but also seem to assume they are always understood perfectly - and by other fey, they are.
They experience time differently, and it affects how they view language in general, which again, makes sylvan a language beyond our scope of understanding.