This year's international language festival at Royal Oaks Academy was nothing short of spectacular - children performed in dialects ranging from common to nearly extinct.

Some students had selected such obscure linguistic gems that even the panel of expert judges raised eyebrows in surprise.

Yet the classics still reigned supreme - German, French, and Spanish performances drew the most enthusiastic applause from the audience.

Unlike music competitions where natural talent often decided outcomes, language showcases rewarded dedication. With enough perseverance, even memorization could carry a contestant far.

If musical ability was a gift from the gods, then linguistic prowess was forged through sheer human determination.

Amy Sinclair couldn't help but admire the caliber of this elite preschool's curriculum. Now she understood why Newhaven's elite families competed fiercely for these coveted spots.

However, no matter how thoroughly these young children prepared, their tender age showed. Performances varied dramatically - some faltered under stage lights, forgetting carefully rehearsed lines, while others struggled with accents inherited from well-meaning but imperfectly fluent parents.

The highest score before intermission barely reached eighty-four.

Samantha Reynolds nudged Amy excitedly. "Celeste, is it normal to have this many judges? I count at least fifteen native speakers!"

Indeed, over twenty linguists occupied the judging table, though only five held scoring paddles. The others served as consultants, whispering evaluations to the primary judges.

When Amy had accompanied Alexander to Oliver Kingsley's piano competition last month, she'd seen similar extravagance - nothing but the best for Royal Oaks Academy's events.

Amy gave a knowing nod. These weren't just language teachers but specialists, some holding doctorates in obscure dialects. The school clearly spared no expense in maintaining its sterling reputation.

Then came Liam and Victoria's performance.

As predicted, Liam delivered his lines with machine-like precision. To Amy's surprise, Victoria matched him perfectly - each syllable crisp, each intonation flawless.

Language competitions often revealed unexpected challenges. Regional accents could make even perfect textbook grammar incomprehensible to native speakers abroad. Amy recalled her Solmaris Conservatory days, where aristocratic classmates mocked international students' pronunciations mercilessly.

Today, however, Liam and Victoria's impeccable delivery earned them a staggering ninety-eight - the highest score yet. The deducted points came only from Liam's slightly wooden acting during their dramatic scene - understandable since neither child had formal theater training.

As the competition progressed, several other pairs impressed the judges, but none came close. The second-highest score remained a distant ninety-two.

Theodore Whitmore stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Miss Langley's performance was remarkable. Their record still stands unchallenged."

Samantha flashed a mischievous grin. "Let her savor the victory a little longer. Her reign's about to end."