“That’s five different languages already and we’ve only been here fifteen minutes!” Orvalys said. The little creature was trotting openly through the street and ignoring the very alarmed reactions of everyone who noticed him. Jack, who was trailing along behind, very much noticed the reactions.

“You uh… think it’s a good idea?” he asked a little breathlessly, trying to keep up. The healing from the night before had worked wonders — little glowing pastes of plants and heated cubes of glass. It had all been real strange, but he felt like a new man, comparatively. It would still be a while before he could walk without a limp or not wince every other step, but at least he could now move unaided.

The homunculus continued on as if he hadn’t heard.

“And the signs! The signs are all written in some sort of script which I believe to be logographic. Fascinating!”

The airship had docked early that morning while it was still dark out. Jack and Orvalys had helped the crew move several large crates as a thank-you before saying goodbye. Jack noticed that the crates seemed to be slightly warmer than the surrounding air and if you listened closely, a faint humming could be heard from inside them. He certainly didn't ask any questions about them, or many questions at all, seeing as he still had no idea what anyone was saying.

It was now about twenty minutes later and they were headed through what Orvalys had called a “simple little port town called Izutis about an hour's journey from the Capitol,” but Jack could only call it a confusing jumble of counter-intuitive shapes. They had come down from the gravity-defying skydocks—which is what Orvalys called them. People of all types went about, wearing brightly colored clothes of various shapes and textures. They—as the crew had—struck Jack as mostly human-looking, but something was very obviously different in the way they held themselves, as well as in the slight emerald shimmer of their skin when the sunlight hit it just right. The buildings also seemed otherworldly. They were all built with what looked like round, orb-like bricks cemented together and though the individual bricks appeared carefully placed, the buildings seemed tacked up haphazardly—almost in defiance of gravity as well. That was also something of note, the gravity was different. Jack decided it felt barely, only slightly less than on Earth, and he was grateful for it, the extra spring in his step seemed to lessen his pain.

He had encountered something similar but the opposite when he first arrived in Nymia. Its gravity was significantly stronger. It took Jack several months until his muscles and bone density could adjust. The result of the extra force was that the people of Nymia had been much stouter than the average Earthling. Not shorter, interestingly enough, but much thicker in the arms and legs, and now that there was a whole crowd to observe, it seemed like all the Tinarians were long and tall and thin when compared to those back on Earth.

With each step, Jack felt more and more out of place, and that was even without accounting for the little amalgamation of pieces of things walking a few steps in front of him. Maybe it was old battle-senses, but he wanted to avoid attention. If there was anyone in this city out to notice anything, they would be the ones noticed, and that set him on edge.

“Are there any police in this world, do you think?” Jack stole a glance at a few darkened alleyway corners. Well, there weren’t really any sharp corners—most of the buildings were rounded—so he was stealing glances at curved corners, but those were still plenty dark enough to hide someone suspicious.

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“I wonder which it represents, a lingua franca perhaps?”

“I don’t totally love the way everyone is looking at us,” Jack said. “I think maybe we should find a place to hide until…”

Orv suddenly turned, ran up, and grabbed Jack by the bottom of his shirt. He pulled himself up and climbed excitedly until his eye was level with both of Jack’s. He almost screamed, “What if it represents multiple languages?!”

“Um… I said I think we should maybe find a place to hide,” Jack said quietly. He tried not to notice how many people were noticing them. “For a while at least.”

“Oh, that’s exactly what we’re doing,” Orvalys said, climbing back down, seemingly oblivious to his exclamation. “But not because of the Tinarians. From them, the level of threat is significantly less here. The odds of being attacked are very low within the Republic.”

“And that’s something you know… for sure?” Jack asked, watching the now-wider berth everyone seemed to be giving them.

“I mean I haven’t calculated it,” Orv said. “I’m using all my brainpower to try and decode these languages — much more important.” The homunculus hurried around trying to absorb as many signs and words as possible. He randomly struck up conversations with locals, who would answer with a few surprised words and Orv would move on to the next one.

Jack hurried after him. “Is it though?”

Orv turned quickly on his heel and grabbed ahold of Jack’s pant leg again. He didn’t climb up again, but he solemnly looked Jack in the eye and said, “Yes. Absolutely. That’s Wayfaring rule number one.

Communication.

Is.

Everything.

Before you learn what to drink, and what to eat, and what can kill you, and what wants to kill you – before you learn history or current political structure or level of technology or even how to defend yourself and with what weapons–”

“I’d like to learn about weapons,” Jack interrupted. “That came in handy in Nymia pretty early on. Could have helped us on Earth too.” He was trying to subtly nudge Orvalys out of the center of the public street in which they found themselves.

“Before any of that, learn to communicate,” Orvalys said. “Do so, and you will avoid a million mistakes. You’ll make far more friends than enemies, and it will illuminate every next step before you even take it. Communicate. Communicate. Communicate. It’s the unwritten rule sprawled across all of existence in more suffering and blood and lives lost than you could ever count.” The little creature turned away and continued down the street leaving Jack to process what he just said.

That’s… true though, isn’t it? Jack’s first days in Nymia had been extremely confusing — confusing and horrible and uncomfortable and very nearly killed him. The pain of simply living in such a different environment weighed on him and wore him down to the point that there really should have been nothing left. Yet, those were also the days he missed the most, those were the days he remembered fondly, and it was all because of one person who stayed with him through it all — one person who did everything they could to teach him and to share with him the secrets of that new world – to connect, to communicate. Jack sighed to himself.

Not all at once, not all at once.

He broke into a light jog to catch up with Orv. “Do you at least have an idea of where we’re going?”

“Of course,” Orvalys answered, pointing to a red banner fluttering gently in the breeze as if Jack could read a single word of it. “It’s open enrollment. We’re enlisting in the Republic Militia.”