Even though figuring out words and phrases is the game's main driving force, Chants of Sennaar uses language as a mechanic a lot less than you'd think, at least in any way that's not purely instrumental.

As a matter of fact, languages are treated less as open-ended communication systems, that not only represent but create concepts, than a series of near-perfect, near-equivalent logical cyphers. So much so that the game will never let you assume the wrong meaning of glyphs for too long and will, in fact, go to great lengths to actually avoid communication: it is a very silent, lonely and observational game about closed referential systems. This greatly frustrated me at first, but it does reflect the rigid social structures you'll come across and indeed the atrophy that the lack of cultural exchange brings. Treating language as a puzzle makes sense in a world that is framed by gigantic, virtually infinite physical structures that replicate each social order.

Which is why the decision to use a fixed camera enriches the game's own visual language: by framing the structures for you, it alternates between claustrophobia and fascination, showing what that piece of the tower feels like. So the very architecture of the tower becomes a narrative tool that helps you understand the many peoples you meet, maybe more than their words.

Side note: Cistercian numbers fucking rule