“Where did you get that poncho from?”

  “Family heirloom, grandmother.”

  The lie comes straight from my mouth. And yet, I don’t feel any different. I’ve become too accustomed to lying, to even where someone like Wayne has to be told these make-believe facts about me.

  Whether he buys it or not, that’s his problem now, but I’m saying that like I’ve given anyone a reason not to believe me.

  I haven’t.

  And I don’t know if I can anymore.

  The two of us walk the streets, as quiet as it was. Easier to breathe, think, or be me, without the depressing atmosphere over there. Without the depressed faces of the Oni. As much as I’ve tried to uplift my quadrant, it still remains.

  Some of these things are just…ingrained into their mind. Their body, and practically their soul. It pains me, but I don’t have better options.

  And then comes the thought.

  That I’m here to survive, for six months. And it hasn’t even been one.

  I’m not here to liberate. I’m not here to fight the system.

  My goal is already clear, whether I liked to admit it or not.

  I have to lie, deceive, and perform for six months to survive.

  And who knows what will happen to me after those six months?

  I’ll figure that part out later three months into this thing.

  The Golden Insignia reflected the moon’s light. The four-pointed star that I had a better chance to look at in the recent days. It’s importance had only made itself known by others. Especially by Wayne.

  “So, tell me. What did you do to gain the Golden Star?” Wayne asks me again, hands behind his head as we stroll.

  I shake my head, reaffirming my stance. “I told you already. Classified.”

  “C’mon…there has to be something. Someone as young as you achieving it this early? You must be…very strong.”

  “Strong? Anything but that. I’m just…willing.” I say.

  “And no, I’m not that young as you think I am.”

  Wayne scoffs at my added on phrase, before going on to speak.

  “You know, when I first saw you, I thought you were around your early 20’s? But now? You’re nothing more than a late teenager. 18? 17?”

  I shove him to deflect, “My age matters…why? You look…like a twenty-year-old.”

  Wayne laughs greatly.

  “Hah. Maybe try to double that.”

  I stop in my steps, and turn to him. My brow furrowed.

  “Y-you’re…40?”

  He turns around with a smile, and for a second, I almost don’t buy it. I don’t want to believe it. But…so far, Wayne has had zero reason to lie to me.

  Is this because he’s half-elf? I don’t know much about elf anatomy or genetics…but I would assume it plays a role in this.

  Instead, he doesn’t stand there to explain it to me or anything. He continues to walk.

  I…I was hanging around a 40 year old man…who doesn’t look like he’s anything more than 20?

  I catch up to him and press on further.

  “How…how does that work?”

  Wayne glances over his shoulder, clearly amused by my reaction.

  “Half-elves age differently. We mature slower, live longer. I hit physical adulthood around twenty, and I’ll look like this for another couple decades—if I’m lucky.”

  He pauses, his tone sobering just slightly.

  “After that, it starts to slow down… everything slows down. You watch people come and go, and before long, you stop trying to remember names.”

  I stay quiet. That line felt heavier than it should’ve.

  Wayne waves it off like he didn’t just drop an emotional landmine.

  “But hey, upside? I don’t need skincare.”

  I exhale, a half-laugh slipping from me despite myself.

  “Must be nice.”

  He smirks. “I’ll trade you my years for your golden star.”

  “Not a chance.”

  Wayne cracks out laughing, in the dead of night. At first, I only gave out a soft grin, before his own laugh became too contagious for it’s own good, and I found myself even chuckling.

  Something that I thought I never could do. Not here, that is.

  It was another stretch, Wayne and I would talk, find out a little bit more of each other, crack a sarcastic joke, and laugh. And…at times, I really did consider telling him about my prior life.

  Near outside town limits, and a long path that winded for ages. This was the same one that eventually led us back to Korioh Landings. But even the same road stretched to the horizon, and from there? No telling where anyone would go if not for the park.

  I speak first, to grasp attention from Wayne who was mindlessly walking. “Are you sure walking outside the town is a great idea?”

  “Either that, or staying in the same inn with Flugel and the others.”

  “We all have separate rooms.”

  “And yet, his aura knows no boundaries.”

  “Do you always talk like some mysterious…foreboding wizard?”

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  He laughs, and I couldn’t help but chuckle again. Outside the town limits, where there was nothing but orange plains, and the constant sound of cicadas.

  The air felt nice, warm, but nice. I forgot how hot it can get over here, especially at night. How I survived a single night out there before I got to New Marell still astonishes me till this day.

  I must’ve been in a trance, walking, talking with Wayne. Still felt connecting, and I was learning more about him than I reailzed. Despite him being double my age, mentally it felt like he was still there with me. Around that area, I should say.

  My eyes peered over my shoulder, seeing how far the town was now. Now that I couldn’t see it, but I assumed we put halfway distance between us now. I turned back, and the sound of water rushing filled my ears.

  Down below, where the land dipped, there was a river. The moonlight shone and revealed it, rocks, gushing water. I looked to see where it could’ve came from, but even that as well seemed to stretch beyond the horizon.

  And to the left, it eventually emptied out into a pond. Maybe a lake? Somewhere between those levels. Not too small, but not that great either.

  Wayne crouched, his hand skipping through the gushes of water. I only watched. The pale hand of his almost seemed to manipulate the water. One with it.

  My brain had already decided on the next comment, “Thirsty?”

  He scoffed shortly. “Barely. The water here. Reminds me of the springs.”

  As if some spell had come and made my smile fall as fast as it arrived. My arms instantly fold over my chest, over the burnt orange poncho, and over the four-pointed star.

  “I don’t like talking about it. It makes me uncomfortable for some reason.” I admit, Wayne doesn’t look away.

  “Then you are already half better than everyone else. At least you admit it doesn’t make you feel any better.”

  “So what do I do? What do we do? Overthrow the system? I don’t know if I can beat Flugel, or anyone else for that matter.” My voice failed to be steady, and with each word it starts rising.

  Wayne looked over to me, and was about to open his mouth, maybe give me another one-liner that felt like directions without actually helping me.

  But he pressed his lips together, his eyes fell, and went back to the river.

  “Maybe.”

  My brows furrowed. The confusion on my face was growing.

  “Maybe?”

  He nodded his head. “Maybe.”

  “Yeah, what do you mean maybe? Wasn’t the whole point was that someone was going to liberate them? Stop Flugel?”

  He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, and when he does, it didn’t make it any better.

  “Maybe. But if more than 75+ people have a common agreement on how things are ran, than we are just the outliers.”

  “Wayne. You’re confusing me.”

  He takes a deep breath, before continuing.

  “You’re from the Republic. Four Point Star before 20. If someone like you can’t stop Flugel…can’t stop the place that Korioh Landings is…”

  “...who can?”

  For a second, I felt…a hinge of embarrassment.

  I look over at the golden insignia, pinned on my poncho. Grabbing it.

  This thing has spoke for me in more ways than one.

  And, my paranoia. My own fear, bled into it, and seemingly rewrote what it’s all about.

  I’m not strong, but I had to pretend that I was.

  And that?

  That’s the worst part.

  Because now, there is no hope.

  I don’t directly look over to Wayne, but his reflection in the river instead. The realization dawns over me in the moment following.

  The Hot Springs, even now.

  Wayne was probably thinking I was his ticket out. That I would be the one to change things here.

  And I threw it all away, because my lies have become too much of second nature.

  At a point, they no longer became lies. They became a part of myself.

  “I’ve already chose my decision. I’m already committed to it.” Wayne begins, and there he pulls his hand out the water. There, we could see two fish, swimming up the current. Up the stream.

  It was an odd sight. The first I’ve ever seen it in my life. It looked like a phenomenon, because why would two fish go against the current? They think they’re different from anyone else?

  That they’re nothing like the other fish?

  I silenced the scoff that came from me.

  It’s better if the fish just fall in line with everyone else. It’ll be better for them.

  My head snaps to Wayne, referring to his statement.

  “Committed? You’ve already tried to liberate the oni’s before?” I ask.

  He shrugs, “Something along the lines of that. I didn’t have the power to, and I was hoping you did–”

  “I-I do.” I briefly cut him off. Subtle shock on his face appears, most likely because it caught him off guard.

  “Just…just give me more time. I’ll figure out something. I’ll…I’ll try to save the Oni’s…”

  Wayne doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t seem moved by my words. Not because he doesn’t believe them, or I’m not convincing enough. Not because he believed it was impossible, or that I was too weak.

  To me, it felt like he already had a goal in mind. Something that he was already committed to 100%.

  Something he wasn’t going to tell me.

  He softly smiled, putting a hand on my shoulder.

  “Lucien, it was never about freeing the Oni. It was about the system. Flugel. The idea. You’ve been doing good so far. Lying low, deceiving the others. In all honesty, it looks like you could keep up the facade for years.”

  He passes by me. His footsteps crunching against dried grass, and subtle rock.

  His smile, it was supposed to convey his support. His, well, his love.

  So why?

  Why did it feel like the truth of it all?

  I turn around, getting out of my shock. My breathing gradually quickens. I don’t like it.

  I don’t want to be doing this for years. I’m only here for six months.

  So why, Wayne?

  Why does it feel like you’re telling me I might be here longer than that?

  Wayne.

  This is something that can be fought. I know it can. You got me to believe, when I thought I was the only one feeling like this.

  Without you? I wouldn’t be inspired, be moved or pushed to even formulate the idea of fighting against it. I used to hide behind the fact that I had no real power…

  …and I know. It’s disgusting. I’m a seflish person. I put myself over everyone else. I have no excuse, and I’m not disregarding it. That’s my reason as to why I did what I did.

  But you’ve shown me that I don’t need to. That I don’t need to lie to anyone anymore.

  So why Wayne…!?

  Why does it fucking feel like you’re going to do something you might regret?

  You spoke of all this, you widened my eyes when I only opened them. You believed it in, didn’t you? Why does it feel like you’re going to forsake everything now?

  I want to speak to him, but I can’t. He has that smile, that grin. Like everything is nice and okay. Not knowing when we head back, it’s going to be the same thing all over again.

  He’s acting like Korioh Landings won’t intoxicate him, poison him. As if he has the perfect resistance to it. Is it because of the moment now? I don’t know.

  “You said you made your decision, what is that going to be?” I ask him, amidst the million thoughts running through my mind.

  His smile only sharpens, not a single crack. Just genuine expression. He feels for his neck before putting his hands behind his head.

  “One of us will come up with a plan to fight the system, I’m sure of it.”

  The silence is too long. It doesn’t sound hope-inspiring as I thought it would.

  “...and if we don’t?”

  “One of us will. One of us will.”

  He repeats the sentence.

  But it lacks all affection.

  Sounds practiced.

  And it sounds predetermined.

  For once, my insight let me see it finally.

  Whatever his decision is.

  It’s not about going against Flugel.

  It’s whatever Wayne has planned.