At her earliest opportunity, Solveis sought out the old man to ask his advice about how to proceed after the events of Barae and Alfis. One morning, the old man joined her in the little garden outside of the cabin.

That morning, she was fully present in her work, so it took her a moment to notice the familiar aepsis presence and to acknowledge him.

“Good morning,” Solveis politely greeted her friend.

“Morning little one,” he responded. “You’ve been tending the garden well, even in my absence.”

“Yes. It’s a nice way to start the morning, and I like waking up before everyone else. I’ve gotten to where it’s hard to start the weekend days without tending the garden. The whole day feels off.”

“Yes. It’s like meditation. The more you practice, the more soothing and necessary it is.”

“Sir…” Solveis started hesitantly, “I’ve asked you for advice before.” Solveis stated this as a fact.

“Yes. I love for you to feel comfortable enough to ask me for advice. What’s up?”

“Well actually?” Solveis started to order her thoughts into communications, but then something else filled her mind and presented itself to the old man. “Actually, well, why do you talk like that to me? Like cheesy, but also kind, nice – you know. I mean – I’m sorry. That’s rude.”

“No. It’s not rude… or maybe it is, but I understand what you are asking. Let me answer this question well.” The old man thought for a moment before continuing, “A great kindness you can do is to talk to individual people in a way that is best for them. For example, I wouldn’t talk to Girselle the same way I talk to you. She might feel attacked by it. But, I think you understand it. I am direct with you because I feel like it helps you to understand me. I am kind because I care about you, and I think you can receive it.”

The explanation mostly made sense to Solveis, but she still could use some clarification. “Why are you kind like you are? Like so nice that you’re sappy?”

“I want to let my friends know that I care about them. Everyone likes to know they are cared about. Nor everyone can receive kindness, but you probably can. You have grown up with affectionate parents, so you know how to receive kindness without being afraid. And another thing too. – I know this island well, and I have a soft spot for you and your family. I have known your father, and much of your family for a long time. You all feel like you’re my little cousins.”

“Are my parents affectionate? I know I can be – well – cold or whatever, but I’m not sure they are affectionate.”

“I’d advise you to pay close attention the next few times they talk with you. In my experience, they are more openly loving than most people’s families are.”

Solveis took the advice seriously but didn’t reply.

The old man picked the conversation back up again, “So, you didn’t come here for a lecture on philosophy and the concept of humanus relationships. What’s up?”

“Oh yeah, right. – Actually, of all lectures, that might be an interesting one, but I do need advice about a thing.”

“Yes. Is about the two who were skulking around here?”

Solveis just looked at him. She stared right at his face in surprise. “You couldn’t have been here for that. I know you’re around all the time without us really noticing, but we were all over the mountain that weekend and I never saw you.”

“No. But, I know they have been sneaking around here sometimes, and I saw fresh evidence of them, so I figured.”

“Oh.”

“What’s the advice for?”

“Oh. Yeah. Well, the other kids think it’s a cool story and everything. They even made up names for the two guys. They are all excited. Except Arlendr is kinda going overboard about ‘defense’,” she mimicked the militant way that Arlendr commanded the word defense. “But, really though, it’s all real and actually dangerous. I feel like it’s not just a silly game anymore. We could get hurt. We are just kids. I had a moral -” Solveis paused to simplify her language, so that she wouldn’t get teased, then she remembered that she was talking to someone who won’t tease her, “I had a moral dilemma. I feel the parents should be informed, but I don’t want them to take away privileges. I want to be safer, but not imprisoned in the head pike – sorry, I mean in the cabin.”

“That’s very well said. I understand. You are right. It is serious. I have actually been concocting a little plan, part of which was to speak to your all’s parents.”

An expression of unsure-ness showed itself on Solveis’s face.

“They do need to know after all. I will do my best not to spook them too badly. And I have no desire for you to lose any privileges, but they should know. – Here. – If this gives you any comfort, you won’t have to say anything. I will talk to them. I will keep in mind the desires of you and your friends. I’ll do my best to do what’s best for everyone.” The old man gave a look that asked for her approval.

“I guess I’ll be glad not to have to snitch. I guess you’ll tell better than anyone else would. – Thanks.” Solveis was resolved that this was the best solution, but she couldn’t help but be concerned. These might be her last few days of complete freedom.

“Don’t worry about it. Worrying about something without having any control over the outcome only brings upset. I would advise you to exercise your mind, to try not to worry. Think about things within your control. – Sorry if that’s too stern. I don’t mean it that way.”

It was good advice. She would try to follow it.

The old man had a request of her, “Can you tell me what you all saw? What you know? I’d like to be as informed as possible before I proceed.”

Solveis recounted for the old man the events of Barae and Alfis. She also recounted the kids’ conversation afterward.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

The old man responded to her story, “You all haven’t lost your sense of adventure yet. That’s good. But this stuff is serious though. I hope you won’t have to feel how serious it is.”

“Can we avoid it, if we are roaming freely about?”

“I hope so,” the old man answered thoughtfully. “And another thing, I know the given names of those two who came here.”

Solveis was genuinely surprised. He had always seemed to know more than he let on, but now it seemed as if he knew everything. She asked him, “You know their names?”

“Why yes. I know all about them. I know Brudt’s – or Brutoin as he’s calling himself now – I know his story very well. He’s the horse-hu man. He is horse-hu by the way. Centaurs are only in those books. – For that matter, you aren’t really a faun, because those are only in books too. You’re goat-hu, and sheep-hu too, on the other side of the family, right? It’s just that goat-hu look so much like fauns that the name stuck.”

“I guess that’s true,” Solveis pondered. “I know fauns aren’t quite real. That they’re a fictionalization of a true thing, of goat-hu or sheep-hu, but the distinction didn’t seem so important. Besides, it’s cool to say I’m a faun. It’s like magic.”

“Yes. I can see that. Names can matter though, the true meaning of a thing is always the true meaning,” the old man began to teach. “For example, what does goat-hu even mean?”

“It means a mix between goat and humanus, I guess? Well sort of. I mean I’m in no way a goat, but I am humanus.”

“Exactly. We make names, but what do they even mean? Do you know where the word goat-hu came from?”

Solveis had to dig deep into her academic memories to get the answer for that one. “Well… every group of people has always had names for themselves. Everyone had their own names in their own languages. – But then, when they started to all share languages, they all had to have names for each other in all the languages. Then, Kah Mutun, the language, became so commonly known and spoken, almost the most well known language. Since it was such a common language, and spoken by so many different cultures, they had to make standardized names for each peoples in that common language. Those names became the standard way of referring to each people group. So all the species names we use now, like aepsis, goat-hu, and oggo, became popularized.”

“That was well said, sounded a little like the biased programming of the schools, but it has a lot of truth,” the old man replied. “So think about those standardized names. What do they mean?”

“Well… goat-hu means humanus, but legs like a goat. All the ‘dash hu’ names are all like that: deer-hu, sheep-hu, horse-hu. Except that I’m goat-hu and my legs aren’t literally goat-like, they are just loosely reminiscent. It’s the hooves at the end of long feet, and fur on the legs, and the different shaped ears, and the small horns on the men’s heads.”

“If you compared sid-by-side though, it wouldn’t be much like a goat at all though, right?”

“I guess they just needed some way to identify the different looks, to call a different name for deer-hu versus goat-hu.”

“Yes. I think that’s right. So, they chose other creatures which the individuals were reminiscent of, and used those for names. – If you think about it, that makes you all even more far removed from centaurs or fauns than before.”

This was disappointing, but true. Solveis considered it.

“Let’s take it further. Do you know where aepsis, oggos, or irdies got their names?”

“Irdies I know. It’s because they’re birds… well sort of… they're not exactly birds. They are sentient and everything, but they have no humanus features at all, physically. They are the only speaking creatures that are like that, not humanus at all.”

“Do you know how they consider themselves to be?”

“No.” Solveis answered truthfully, feeling guilty that she had never thought to ask any of the irdies that she had known.

“They consider themselves cousins to birds. They have a great respect for their speech-less cousins. They also consider themselves men and women, just like your people, like all humanus.”

“That makes sense. I agree – not that they need me to, but…”

The old man was getting a little impassioned now. He raised one eyebrow at her and continued, “And as for aepsis and oggos? I’ll tell you. Aepsis are named after apes, and oggos after dogs. Also, attos after cats and eptills after reptiles. And reptiles aren’t even a species, it’s a class of animals.”

“Dogs!” Solveis exclaimed accidentally. Well, obviously oggo sounds like dog, but to imply that Livia looked anything like a dog. – Well… Actually... Her expressions sometimes, and the rich color of her skin, had reminded Solveis of certain dogs, but still, it was a stretch. “Really, named after a dog. I mean, I guess, if you had to choose an animal that they look like, it would be that blue-black-gray breed of dog, whatever it’s called, but still. Their legs are totally man’s legs, not dog-like at all. What a strange name.”

“They were trying to keep the convention of naming like a similar animal. Since they have the quote-un-quote humanus legs, they don't get a ‘dash hu’ after their name, so it was oggos, like doggos.”

“I guess I understand it, but it makes less sense. – Oh what about aepsis? Apes. That’s a stretch too. And don’t most aepsis call themselves just humanus, like how I call myself faun?”

“Yes. That’s right. We have many names for the same thing,” the old man continued his lecture. “The worst of all is frople. It rubs me the wrong way when people say that. – Sorry I’m getting impassioned.” He really did sound impassioned.

Solveis was deeply interested. He was presenting her with a perspective that she had never been exposed to before. It was the perspective of a learned, well traveled, and empathetic person. “Please tell me,” she said enraptured.

“You all call them frople,” he pronounced the word haltingly, as if he was unaccustomed to its pronunciation. “They call themselves Sepigau. It means separate together, or together alone, in their language. They chose that name. They don’t respond to frople, because it has no meaning to them. They are very literal people.”

“It upsets them to be called frople? – Honestly, of all the animal-based names, theirs fits best. Their looks are like a frog.”

“That’s a valid perspective of yours, but maybe not appreciated by them.”

“Yes. That’s true. – I’ll think about that.” Solveis did think about it. Then, she had a sudden realization which made her feel embarrassed and stupid. “Excuse me, sir. Well… I just realized that we call you old man, just old man, as if that is your name. If it’s bad, then I’m really sorry.” Solveis wrung her hands and looked up at the man hoping for forgiveness.

“Ah. See though,” the old man began his answer. “I introduced myself as The Old Man of The Mountain. I never gave you another name. And, I don’t mind that you call me that. It seems affectionate coming from my young friends.”

“Should we have asked for another name?”

“I don’t know about should, but you could have. Do you want to know it now?”

“Yes,” Solveis answered sheepishly.

“My given name is Lou Tin. People call me Lou, Tin, and Old Man,” he laughed at himself. “I almost like Old Man the best.”

“I probably should have know your name before, Sir. Lou. I feel like I was stupid before. I guess I am always missing everyone else’s point of view. I try, but there are so many of them.”

“There are many points of view in the world, and they are ever altering. It will take you time and experience to get a decent grasp of them. Just continue to be a listener.”

“Oh. Sir. I – well Livia means well – you know… Is it bad that she calls everyone by a wrong name? She always does it. She calls me Sulvi, which really isn’t my name. And Girselle, Ghi Ghi or Zhi Zhi.”

“I suppose it depends. She is quite young. She’s really pretty young to be the companion of older kids. I hope she isn’t made too mature too fast. But anyway, if the people being called take it as affectionate, then it’s no problem. – And little Livia, she is so sweet. I can’t imagine many people taking her badly.”

Lou Tin and Solveis sat in quiet thought for a moment.

“Oh. Solveis,” Sir. Lou got her attention. “We were talking about that because of Brutoin and Yu. Those are the real names of your fictional Barae and Alfis.”

“Oh yeah,” Solveis recalled the previous conversation. “Did I tell you everything you wanted to know? I think I said everything.”

“Yes. I think so,” the old man answered gently. “And I am sorry if I lectured you. You’re a good kid. I don’t really mean to correct you. You just got me on just the right subject, I guess.”

“It’s ok. Somehow it didn’t make me scared – or, well, I don’t mean scared – but – not like when other people correct me. Then I kinda get scared and freeze up. – But anyway, I think I understood you.”

“Yes. You’re a good kid. Why don’t you go in, to your friends? I think I hear them waking up.”