Translations are provided by Skylar. 

“Sleep all light, Zikiete can.” Moon replied, tempted to take Sol’s notebook, but he didn’t want the man to know about it, so he motioned towards the door for them to talk in private. “Struggle self of her wake in, as limit may be of day two, yet sister wake of day five.” 

“Oh. Well. What do you do normally while they sleep?”

“To journey, or to tra-vell.” 

“With them?” 

“Leave them back, why shall I? Siblings, yuze.” 

“Ah.” He looked around the space, trying to think of something to talk about. “Do you hunt?” 

“Want what you?” 

He blinked. “Erm. Repeat that, please.” 

Moon repeated it in Elven to make sure it sounded right before he spoke in Modern, his brain struggling to remember his notes. The pronoun chart…but what was the present tense of you? 

“Oh, what do you want? Is that what you’re asking?” Moon nodded, finally remembering the ending. “You can hunt a…a goat. Can you do that?” 

Moon nodded again, and performed another lady-like bow for respect before he stepped towards the door they’d entered from. He closed it behind him and strolled down the path, following the route of footsteps since they’d entered the town, trying not to turn in their directions. 

He came across the gate just as easily and saw two guards standing there, both covered in heavy sheets of metal. How they weren’t gripping their chests in pain was a mystery, but he assumed Wizardly metal was different from Elven. Everything was. 

He passed the two, one of them trying to look awake as he leaned on his sword. The other was already slumped against the wall, and Moon slipped by them before the one fell asleep. 

“Kleetâ ne?” he mumbled, ‘No safety?’ as he followed the wall, keeping an eye on the forest. Once the men were out of sight, he walked with a strict step, hands in his pant pockets. His fingers fell out of his left one, reminding him of the sewing job he had to do on it. 

The night was peaceful. He was glad their parents had changed it over the centuries. The first few years had been horrifying. Failed and forgotten projects, disgusting revival, eyes everywhere, and hardly any signs of civilization until they had stumbled across Ibolai. The eyes hadn’t returned since then, but he was still curious. 

He faced a tree, and stared at it, waiting for a movement. 

“You don’t need to be still. I remember your eyes.” 

The tree didn’t reply. Moon sighed, cursing himself. “Probably something that our parents removed. Why did I think it would work?” 

A flash caught his eye and he saw something fall from a nearby tree. Inching closer, he saw it was a bone-white egg that had cracked from the impact. 

What was he to do? Pick it up? Threaten the life inside? Was there a life inside? 

He crouched, keeping a distance from it, scared he would crush it. The egg caught fire, burning slowly on the ground as something crawled out of it; an odd slimy thing. It shook the slime off its head as it giggled in the flames, which was becoming contained in the egg. 

Moon moved a bit closer and the life looked up at him. It was a bony thing dripping in egg goop, and it appeared that the flames hadn’t damaged it much. Its little beak cooed peacefully.

“Oh, Eighth, my Celes, this is beautiful.” he mumbled. It squealed and Moon extended a hand towards it. It struggled to walk, but was able to crawl towards him and plopped onto his hand. 

Moon flinched. He had expected the goop, but didn’t realize how odd it’d feel. Like more solidified water against the lump of bones. Was this what all bone felt like? 

“Where’s your mother?” he asked as it nuzzled against his palm. A pattern over the centuries was many animals staying with its mothers. The few times it had stayed with fathers was clear to see in the Elvish species, including Wizards. 

He scooped up the egg, which still hosted the flames, into his other hand and watched as the life moved across his hand-skins towards the egg and curled into the broken egg. 

“Oh. You were cold, weren’t you?” it cooed again as he looked up through the tree from below. He saw pieces on a branch and glowing red eyes above it. Moon turned his calves into blocks of moonrays and raised himself towards the eyes, which appeared to be a large bird of bone with a mane of fire. 

“Hello.” he whispered, showing the egg in his hands. It glared as he carefully set it into the nest next to a couple more unhatched eggs. “Just setting it back. Nothing evil. I just saw it fall and-”

The bird’s mane exploded in strength, heating his face. He grabbed the branch as he jumped back in fear, speaking in Elven. 

“Lenik! Ne takko efarâi! Kleetâ se!” The bird calmed itself when it recognized the words. “Ete fliz ali. Yus femeri eszerig eflemag urdup ze norii laxai rei ete. Ne zep-unto ipal- paxøl…unorii dokri. Ze ukisk phorzed. Edokri.” Silence! I mean no harm! I'm safe! It's alright. Your child fell and I'm here to give it. Please don't, just…here you go. I have helped you. I'll leave. 

The bird’s eyes turned to a dark red as Moon nodded to it and fell into his Embodiment form and sank to the base of the tree. He hid behind the next as he switched back to his Wizardly and continued his walk. 

“That was a brave thing you did,” a man’s voice whispered. 

Moon pushed his hand into a moonray and summoned a sword of light, turning around. He held the sword point in the direction of the voice, glaring. 

“Who are you?” 

A middle-aged man stepped out from the wall, and Moon immediately pushed the sword towards his throat. He held a tall torch and his body was covered in a velvet robe. 

Rich people. 

“No why I tell me should to gut you in instant.” he asked. 

“Well, a basic language lesson is certainly in order.” The man said, stepping back once to touch the point of the sword and lower it away from him. “Do you take all your compliments this way?” 

“Again, asked. Whom you are?” 

“Better.” He commented before he performed a bow similar to the one Sir. Theodric had done, ankles crossed as he leaned on his torch. ”I am Sir. Eikar Rustad, a schoolteacher for the youth. And you?” 

He held out a hand to shake. Moon kept his grip loose as they shook, keeping the sword tight on his side. 

“Arche.” He lied, remembering the name the Elves had put on their roster. “Why you here are?” 

“I saw a boy lurking the town walls and decided to investigate. Is that so wrong?” He gripped the torch and nodded at him. “May I sit? These old bones can only hold me up for so long.” 

Moon nodded and watched as he held the staff, lowering himself to the ground carefully. He sat a distance away from him, sword set next to him. 

“You have an interesting power.” Sr. Rustad said, staring at the sword. “Which metal is it made of?”

“Vzikk.” Moon said the word for metal, realizing his vulnerability. He shouldn’t have pulled out the sword to begin with. Could he find out? “Job what you is?” 

“Ah, so you speak Elven? I learned some in my youth, but now I only teach it to my students. I’m a bit out of practice, but if you’d like to speak Elven, that’s alright.” 

Moon nodded. “Job?” 

“I’ve said this previously. I’m a schoolteacher for youth such as you. Do you have a job?” 

“New man here. Family moved with man of guard job and me.” 

“Ah, you were a guardsman in the previous town. Who moved with you?” 

“No-one. Train-ed, I did, as man of guard.” 

“You weren’t official, then. Who are you living with?” 

“Dragon with man me in to take. Theyo…Hedric?” 

“Artos Theodric? A good lad. Where do you hail from? What happened to your parents?” 

“From town for Elf. No parents to stick.” 

“Ah, I’m sorry, boy.” Rustad tapped a hand to his chest in respect. “So you were raised by Elves?” 

“Parents past was, as yes.” 

“Were, but I am curious. Do Elves share the same myths as Wizards?” 

“Myths which?” 

“The Winds, Creation, and the Ocean Nymph, to name a few?” 

“Know them of, yes. Why to ask?” 

“Can you recite them?” 

Moon nodded, remembering the myths clearly from legend and memory. “Speak in Elven, can I?” 

Rustad waved a hand, giving permission. 

“Flizø xerkti e ali. E Idyguo, Dlegeti, Ijero, urdup Zikiete kalki elamni urdup eztene kop zikiet e ekir mijkk mall falii oz fikir larjik, buiwâri, jirâu, jeikid urdup, nørau kal. Ne râiko uzee-tah oz yutiervi, jâforr.” The Creation is simple. The Deities formed the Sun, Moon, and Planet and set them in the word before making other species, Wizards, Elves, and Giants, for example. We don’t know much of your fight, however. 

“Interesting.” he mumbled. “The Winds?” 

“Ediervâk e xuwe eztened føkilil eslerik urdup Pli-kett e nizabø pijalo kop-ako. E nâep enamni nizaabe plezd eztene ali ipal.” Skylar wrangled the four into their corner and sewed the jar into Dellun. What they are to do with them is a mystery. 

“And the Ocean Nymph?” 

“Sixâkari zikiete e menirad zepek, kir ezt zeilan kop ne-herian sitoukirâ urdup, yikai e vizey evirâi.” Her curiosity nearly killed the planet, so she hid in shame and fell asleep, turning the seas to peace. 

Rustad clapped slowly. “Your memory is impressive. Did they force it into you?” 

“What to force?” 

“Force the myths into your head for remembrance. Did the Elves do that?”

Moon nodded. “Every year past to tell.” 

“Told?” Rustad watched him nod again. “I’ve never known enough about Elves to know what they say. Those Witches, meanwhile.”

His tone turned angry as he gripped his torch. Moon clasped a hand around the sword handle, just in case.