You can Go on Living; I’ll be Going This Way

The time had come for Moonlight Guardian and Noel to part. For the past week, they had traveled together down the wind-chilled fields of Southern New Praven and past the Sentinel Towers marking the border of Alocast; Noel had to stop Moonlight Guardian from storming off to raid a tower, assuring her that this was not the same one she had previously visited. As they passed by, the tower came into focus, revealing subtle differences and authenticating Noel’s words. She explained that this was just one in a series of towers, and that they served some purpose. However, that purpose was beyond Moonlight Guardian’s comprehension.

Their travels had left her with plenty of time, now that she wasn’t on constant guard from attack; all Durroum’s doing—apparently, she wasn’t the only one he had aggrieved. She had kept her morning and nightly routine, ducking off into cover if necessary—Noel never follow. But while they put foot to trail, Moonlight Guardian had taken up a more human study, with Noel as her tutor.

“So we will only have about a week together before we part ways,” Noel had said as Groil stowed the last of her items and began hitching up the draft animals. Their travel accommodations were not to Noel’s liking; she wanted to take something called an “auto-carriage,” but the Elder—or whatever the human version was—had said that would be too conspicuous.

“You won’t have me to keep you from getting swindled.” Noel continued. She mostly understood, and she definitely understood the word “swindled” as that was the particular kind of lie that Durroum had used to fool her.

“That okay. Not trusting anybody.” Groil gave her a strange look as she spoke. She still had trouble forming human words.

“That’s not good either,” Noel chided. “You need to trust. Else, you can’t get information.” Moonlight Guardian pondered this. That made sense. “Isn’t that why you have been learning Caster?” She nodded. “I agree, though. For you, start with distrust.” She looked at her. Wasn’t that contrary to what she just said? “Until you can trust them.”

“I don’t understand.” How do you trust somebody? You either did or didn’t.

“You have to know when somebody is lying.”

“!!!” Know when somebody is lying? “You can know if somebody lying?” Noel flashed her a pained smile.

“Yes, of course.” Noel touched her shoulder. “Do you really not know?” She shook her head. “I see... I figured you were just bad at it, but are you saying you cannot tell at all?” Another shake. Noel closed her eyes and, after a moment, nodded. “Okay, a demonstration then.” Moonlight Guardian did not know this word “demonstration,” but Noel proceeded nonetheless.

“Groil!” A box slipped through Groil’s fingers. He had been dragging about, stooped as if he too had been yoked, but now he stood tall, ready at her beck and call. Noel always instilled that kind of reaction in him. “You have a crush on me, right?” His body locked up and his face paled, then flushed.

“No! Well... Umm...” He became fidgety, unable to form a coherent sentence.

Noel turned to Moonlight Guardian.“See?” She shook her head. “I asked if he has…” She furrowed her brow. “If he wants to be like honey on toast with me.” Honey on toast? What did that mean? Honey was a sweet and precious luxury that the Harversters would sometimes risk a good stinging to procure—it was equally rare here. And toast… Humans made it from a substance they called bread by roasting it. They would smear it with various jams and other substances. It probably would go well with honey… It clicked. Oh! It’s one of those analogies! She asked if he fancied her! Moonlight Guardian had long since suspected that he did. But he had just denied it…

“He say he doesn’t... Crush?” She had associated the fancy property correctly with the word “crush,” if only in broken Caster.

“Yes, that is what he says, but is it true?” Is he lying? “Look how stiff he got. There is sweat on his head. He is moving his fingers strangely. He is almost shaking. Take a good look at his face.” She could see it all, and he did wear an unusual expression, one that indicated embarrassment.

“Groil is a bad liar.” Her ears perked up. Is he a bad liar? “All those things—they are all signs of lying.” Her tail swooshed. So that was it. If she just looked for these signs, she would know if somebody was lying! Only…

“Don’t get too excited, Groil is a BAD liar.” Moonlight Guardian caught the meaning. “It will be much harder with a good liar.”

“Umm... Noel?” Groil said.

“Oh, it’s okay, Groil. You can go back to packing. Thanks for your help.” His mannerisms normalized, but his confusion remained as he returned to work.

“How you tell good liar?”

“Experience.” She splayed her hands wide. “Nearly everybody gives signals when they lie, but some are really good at hiding them. Even I can’t always tell.”

“Then how you trust?”

“Well you just have to trust yourself to make the right call, and accept that sometimes you will be wrong.” She didn’t completely understand that, but it sounded like you just needed to make your best guess. “There is a lot more to it, but don’t worry. I intend to give you a crash course in subterfuge over the first leg of your journey!”

Though she had understood little of that promise, Noel had been good for it. Every day, she explained something different about human behavior, requiring a vast increase in her vocabulary, and ran drills to help her internalize the lessons; Moonlight Guardian liked drills. The lessons covered things ranging from deception-indicative body language to spotting inconsistencies in information to the psychology of lying. Moonlight Guardian found his latter subject indispensable, as it allowed her to know when somebody might consider deceit.

So by the end of their short travels together, while still overwhelmed by the scope of human dishonesty—which itself comprised multiple disciplines—she at least had a theoretical understanding, and she would know when to be cautious.

“Well, this is it, Amm Par,” Noel said at a split in the road, a weather-worn sign pointing out two destinations. “I’ll be going this way.” She pointed to the left, smiling but not without a hint of worry, maybe even a tear in her eye. “I wish you luck in finding the children. I’ll be in a city called Sofuton for a while; feel free to ask around if you happen to find yourself there.” Moonlight Guardian nodded. “If you ask any member of Urchins and Beggars, my organization, they should be able to get in touch with me... eventually.” Moonlight Guardian didn’t miss her hesitation to part, and... Moonlight Guardian could understand. With her village destroyed, Noel was the closest person to her. And as far as humans went, she wasn’t half bad. Maybe even good? Regardless, she needed to continue her search.

“Goodbye, Noel.” She gave a parting nod.

“Farewell, Amm Par.” She turned and parted ways. Amm Par… They called her that. Not a reference, but a name. It occurred to her then that Noel didn’t know her real name. Should she tell her? As she debated, she realized it was a moot point; she didn’t know the words for it in Caster. “Moon,” she knew, but not moonlight, and certainly not guardian. She could find out if she asked the right questions. Well, maybe if they ever met again, she would give her real name. For now, Amm Par would do.

Asal Alaba was the target. Durroum had seemed offended when he learned that Moonlight Guardian had thought his grand gesture—as he called it—had only been the general region of one child, and while he had no more exacting information, he did have the name of the man who had sold them off, and, more importantly, his location. That location was none other than the city of Leoluxin, a city so grand that it made Southguard look like a bramble patch. Noel had contrasted it with a slum, and Moonlight Guardian hadn’t really understood, but after seeing this grandeur, she felt she now did, and that it was a valid comparison.

While the builders of Southguard were content with crudely shaped rocks, Leoluxin appeared to be built out of supernaturally cut blocks of stone that coruscated in the sunlight, a pale golden color, almost like one of those coins Noel had given her. While Southguard had a worn and unkempt aesthetic, Leoluxin looked like it was polished daily. Even the streets appeared as though they repelled dirt. And where people in Southguard kept a low profile, people here jockeyed to draw the most attention to themselves.

These things drew out her initial awe, but she wouldn’t marvel; she had a mission. Her awe shifted to dread; with a city this big and crowded, how could she ever find this human named Asal Alaba?

She forced herself to calm down. She had prepared for this. Noel hammered in all the important points from Durroum’s documents along with the map. Noel must be an emissary of the Deity, as Moonlight Guardian, unable to read, had disregarded most of the tripe scribbled there. It had been Noel who had retrieved the important information in those scribbles, several pages worth. One piece of that information was the name and location of the man who had originally abducted the children. He resided in the city of Leoluxin and was staying at a place called the Leoluxin Grand, the most luxurious inn in the settlement. Inns were places that travelers often rested on trips, and where she and Durroum had stayed several times. The documents contain more information, but Noel felt most of it wasn’t relevant, but suggested hanging on to them, just in case. She wouldn’t be reading them anytime soon, but she did as Noel suggested.

While knowing he resided here put her at ease, there was another issue. In this sprawling expanse of a city, even locating a specific building would be nearly impossible. And how would she even know when she found it? Would there be somebody out front shouting, “Leoluxin Grand?” Of course not. That’s why humans had signs... She began to see the error in her way of thinking. One of life’s unfortunate truths: nothing teaches like experience.

Of course, she could just ask around. But now... That didn’t seem like the most appealing prospect. For one, these people did not look approachable. Despite all their efforts to draw attention, it seemed to repel any actual interaction. However, she could suffer this... awkwardness, if she had to. But that wasn’t the only issue. From experience, revealing her identity as a yutsuukitsuu could cause problems. It hadn’t always turned out poorly, but when it had... Well, she didn’t expect to return to those places.

She felt confident that she could remain unidentified with her white cloak draped over her slight form—they probably regarded her as a human child. However, cloaks stuck out here. Unlike Southguard, which had remained cold and cloak-worthy the entire time she had lived there, Leoluxin only had a mild briskness, far from justifying such a heavy garment, especially in the midday sun. Truth be told, her palms and soles were damp, and nobody else wore a cloak, though she did see several people with caps. The combination of her size and inappropriate clothing did draw a few curious glances, but they moved on, doubtless to stare at the other garish people parading about.

It was quite the marvelous city; she could appreciate that now that she had several examples to compare against. One of the more noteworthy differences was in how they conducted commerce—that’s the human method of distribution. In Southguard, vendors, they called them, came out to the streets to “sell” their wares—selling still confused her. Not the case here, going by what she could see transpiring through these wide walls of translucent material. She had only seen them in small quantities before, and she originally thought these buildings had gaping holes in them. Holes with... floating writing? That had given it away. “Glass,” she believed they called it, though she hadn’t had many opportunities to experience this word.

At any rate, she could see the exchange of goods for those metal “coins” happening within. She took note, but showed no interest in entering their dens, or maybe “shops” would be a better word; Noel had called such places that. Still, she looked at the limited items visible through the windows as she passed by. Why they would hide all that stuff if they wanted to trade it for those round shinies eluded her. When a bag of morkel nuts had caught her eye, Noel had bought them for her. But if they had been hidden behind these walls, such a trade would never have happened. Well, humans were weird, but she guessed this way you wouldn’t be tempted to acquire stuff you didn’t need.

She paused. Something had caught her eye, though she had already passed the shop. Circling back, she nearly pressed her face up against the glass to behold the items on display. Most of the pieces were unknown to her, but she could make out one, and it gave her an idea of their purpose—a lute.

Moonlight Guardian still grieved the loss of her treasured instrument; she missed the feel of the strings biting into her finger pads as she played, but acquiring a new one had never occurred to her. This may in part be due to her sentimental attachment to her particular instrument; they did have a history. But she would probably never see her lute again, and even if they were reunited, she would still like to play in the meantime; it was one of the few things that could relax her. And now, here before her, was an instrument so very much like the one she had lost.

The other items on display piqued her interest as well: a small barrel-like item, a reed with holes spaced equally, some knot of twisted metal... Were these different tools for producing music? She had to believe so. In better times, she would have fancied learning their ways, but that time was not now. She brought her attention back to the lute. What would the humans want for this?

Of course, they would want some combination of those “coins” Noel had given her. She had refused to accept them in the beginning, at first because she saw them as worthless, and later because of their worth—to humans at least. Noel had convinced her to accept them as payment for her bodyguarding services, though she still didn’t understand the transaction. Goods for goods made sense. Goods for Services felt unusual. Regardless, she had items to trade.

What would the humans ask in exchange? A daunting subject. For starters, Noel had assured her humans would lie about anything involving trade or barter. In fact, people expected to be lied to during trade; failure to do so was regarded as more suspicious.

“For you, Amm Par, if you can see what other people are trading for an item, you should pay that and absolutely refuse to pay more. Walk away otherwise.” Noel had been firm on this point.

She still didn’t understand why humans regarded these things as valuable, but they did, and the value varied depending on the type of material.

“This reddish coin is called a People’s Penny,” Noel had held up the coin. It had a basket on one side and some small buildings depicted on the other. “You can trade one for a loaf of bread.” Moonlight Guardian had given Noel a questioning head tilt. “I tell you this so you will know what each coin is worth. If it helps, you could think of each of these coins as a loaf of bread.” That did help, though only a few months ago, that idea would have dumbfounded her. She had counted 89 of these coins in her purse.

“This one is the Silver Standard.” She held up another coin. This one had a grand depiction of a building, closer to what you would find here in Leoluxin, and on the other side a hand holding a tool she had seen humans splitting wood with. An “ax,” she believed they called it. “This should get you a night’s stay at a mid-tier inn... Or,” she had searched for another example after Moonlight Guardian had given her another quizzical stare. “A nice dinner at that same mid-tier inn, with all the fixings.” She understood the worth of this better, but not completely. “One Silver Standard is worth 100 People’s Pennies.” It was? Why? She didn’t ask, as it would only confuse her more. She had 24 of these.

“Finally, this is the Golden Noggin. Be particularly careful with these.” This one also had a building on one side and a head on the other. “These are very valuable, and one is worth 100 Silver Standards.” Another equivalency? Her head had ached, and would again if she thought too much about it. “You could exchange this for a decent sword.” She had a sword and doubted she would have need of another. Still, she had 5 of these.

So what was a lute worth? Probably more than a loaf of bread or a stay at an inn. Was it worth more than a sword? She had no idea. The thought of asking crossed her mind, but Noel had warned her about human dishonesty regarding trade.

“Grrr...” She pulled her hair. The question tormented her. Some people cast knowing glances as they made their way. What should she do? She could just allow herself to get swindled; it would still be worth getting the instrument, right?

“I’m so glad we are back to lodging at the Leoluxin Grand,” a woman in a gaudy black dress that seemed repelled by her legs said, with no sense of propriety. “I was not looking forward to a repeat of last time when my father learned we had to debase ourselves by staying at the second-rate Monarch’s Palace.”

“Weren’t you the one who told him?” The man with her grumbled.

“Well, yes. Somebody had to keep him abreast of our hardships. Any father would want to know if their daughter was slumming it.” The man let out a tired sigh.

Much of what they said was lost on Moonlight Guardian, but she did catch they were staying at the Leoluxin Grand. All she needed to do was follow them, and they would eventually take her where she needed to go.

With her trance broken, she pulled back from the window. What was she even thinking? These coins were to save the children, not cast away for her own benefit. She straightened up, not allowing herself to be tempted any longer. Once all was well, she could ponder such frivolity. Right now, she had a lead to follow.