As Jonas continued talking to Aranis about what they could do to help, Sil was more interested in knowing what Narati was up to lately, along with several other teens and young adults slightly younger and older than his supposed age. The Fa’ar was far more confident and more open to his feelings than the last time the Lizan met him. He was very enthusiastic about showing Sil and the others of what he and his companions had achieved ever since they started to prepare the town for resettlement.

Narati met the younger people on his second visit to the camp, where they were preparing to move away from the Seaside Region due to the Aether creeping into the sands where they made camp. He befriended them, although it wasn’t as smooth. It was clear that they, like Sil, had a bad experience when it came to Fa’ars. Even their parents did not wish for Narati to come close to them.

Narati understood and stayed away, but then, Sil wanted Narati to stay around and help them, so he did. While he was being stared at by the rest of the people, he stayed strong, and tried to be as helpful as he could to them. His perseverance paid off when one of the children asked for his help, despite being reluctant at first. Narati did not mind the stares as he helped the child load up her belongings into a carriage. This was the first of many moments where Narati became more accepted by them, even to the point where they learned his name and his age. He became quick friends with one of the boys who he offered help in fixing his toy, showing his prodigal expertise in machinery.

For Narati, having friends his age wasn’t something new, but this was the first time he had friends who were not a fellow Fa’ar and who were not suffering too much from slavery. Narati could see and learn how to live as a normal person and not always be the one to be blamed to when things went wrong. For the longest time, Narati was convinced that he was cursed ever since he was born a Fa’ar. Meeting people who were willing to move on from the prejudice convinced him otherwise.

This fact made it easier for Narati to explain what he had accomplished in the past two weeks. He guided Sil and the others outside the walls in a plot of land. It was relatively small when compared to the more established farms and was only protected by a wooden fence perimeter. Most of the plants had only started to sprout. The black, moist soil indicated a recent watering, presumably from the water trough near the edge of the small plot of land.

“It’s not much for now,” started Narati. “But it’s better than nothing. Aranis taught me how to farm and care for the plants without relying on magic. The land is fertile and exploitable. In a couple of months, these plants will grow and start bearing products we can use for supply. Then, we expand. Now, we got a lot more helpers, so I guess my initial plan is now too small.”

“I never thought you, of all people, would be a farmer,” commented one of the older ones.

“You never know, Ansy,” said Narati with a smirk.

Sil looked around the open, fertile land. She then kneeled and scooped a little of the soil. Somehow, the Lizan scooped a soil full of burrowing insects and earthworms, which caused the younger children to reel in with disgust.

“I can start growing my seeds with this soil,” commented Sil with a smile on her reptilian face. She then turned her attention to Narati. “Not bad for someone who has been raised in the desert.”

Narati let out a chuckle. “Never too late to learn new things, or to enjoy life. I have you to thanks, mi tanem.”

“You’re welcome.”

Narati, aware of Sil’s occupation, continued the tour around the small, vacant town, stopping by what used to be a storefront. While the children permitted themselves to play at the nearby, barren park (Aranis was planning to revitalize it), Sil entered the store. It was virtually untouched, with empty, dusty shelves and hangers made to accommodate herbs ready to be filled under Sil’s discretion. Narati, however, directed her towards the second room, and it immediately intrigued the Lizan.

The second room was not as vast, but it had a specific purpose. Sil immediately realized that it was an infirmary, intended for doctors and nurses to work in. It wasn’t as big as the ones she used to, and was clearly in a state of disrepair, but it was good enough to treat a small group of patients, even in-patients that needed an extended stay. She quickly concluded that the storefront was in fact a drugstore.

“I noticed the bed looks a lot like the one in your clinic,” said Narati as he pointed towards one of the well-preserved wooden beds. He then turned his head towards the empty jars in one of the glass cabinets. “And those, too.”

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“You guessed right. This is an infirmary,” said Sil. “A bit empty, but that’s not an issue to me. It might need some upgrades to accommodate mana healing and non-intrusive surgeries. Some mana crystals to maintain a sterile environment will help, too. Also, those bed might need to be rebuilt; I’ll ask Bors and the others to help with that. I can grow some herbs in the pots outside, too. This is…wow. I mean, I never thought I’d be given a proper facility after years of scraping by out in the wilderness. It’s almost like a gift.”

“I’m glad you like it,” said Narati with a satisfied squeak.

“And I’m glad you look much better than the last time we met,” said Sil. “Never thought you’d have an accent.”

“Partly because I mix my own language with yours,” replied Narati. “I learned to speak before I lost mi sura. My voice. At least you understand what I’m talking about.”

“You’d know if I don’t understand,” said Sil. “So, this town…does it have a name?”

“No, we haven’t gone there yet. Raine and Karkas suggested inviting you here and I helped with establishing the town. It didn’t have a former name, either, which is strange. All I got are numbers on the gates.”

Sil wondered about the numbers. A town with no name would not help it in the long run. Even a free town which purportedly had no names had its own, only that the people living in it could not decide on one which fit their nature.

“Numbers on the gates,” pondered Sil aloud. “I wonder if they are supposed to denote something.”

“Honestly, I don’t care,” said Narati. “What I do care, though, is that calling this town 47 is dull.”

“Who knows?” said Sil with a shrug. “A combination of numbers can be very interesting. Like 143, for example.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because you need one for ‘I’, four for ‘love’, and three for ‘you’.”

Narati let out a chuckle, which sounded like a squeak. “Wow. Never thought of that. Whoever came up with that knows his way with words, huh?”

“You bet it is. Unfortunately, he isn’t the one I’d want to make eggs with. Although….”

She peered over to see the red-scaled pseudo-Dromerian, who looked confused, but readily helped the others after they managed to overcome their hesitation around the more-avian-than-reptilian person. Sil even let out a rather audible hiss, something that Narati caught.

While he had a (bad) experience in regard to love, he quickly understood why Sil looked distracted when the Dromerian was involved. Acting smart, he said, “You know it’s more than just looks, right?”

“What do you know about…oh.” Sil was quickly reminded of Narati’s plight after she was trying to reprimand him for taking her out of her daydream. The rat person simply shrugged.

“Talk to him first. At least you have a choice to do so,” said Narati with a wink.

Sil would, if the pseudo-Dromerian spoke her language. Undoubtedly, he was once a human or a Lizan foreigner. From his mannerisms and even the rare times he ever spoke already told Sil that asking him out would be harder than asking one of her own kind.

But she wouldn’t want to stop, not when she wanted to know more about him. He might not be a real Dromerian, but he still acted like one. Even if he wasn’t a Dromerian, he was still a foreigner. Sil had a fascination with cultures far from where she came from. While the Valley was far enough for her, she wanted to know the world. There must be survivors beyond the Aether-contaminated Sea.

“Nara, I…thank you,” said Sil.

“Hey, no worries, tanem. I’m always ready to help. Now. About the town’s name. Who do you think should give the name?”

“Who? I think it would be better if everyone had a say. We should make a vote from a choice of names. Make it a special occasion. We can formalize the whole process and have a feast for a new town.”

“How are we supposed to feast if we hardly have anything to eat?”

“That’s where your cat-eared friend comes into play. This is Raine’s homeland, isn’t it? He must’ve known someone. If not, then he has his charms.”

Narati nodded, but then wondered if it was right. Granted, the Fa’ar had almost no understanding of how people in the Valley conducted business, or any business at all. He acknowledged that he had technical expertise when it came to assembling something out of junk or following instructions. He deferred the negotiation part to Raine and (occasionally) Karkas. Being a recently liberated slave and a Fa’ar would not help him in negotiations.

Yet would it be right to ask for that much food for a feast? The Fa’ar wondered if Raine could do so. Narati would be very impressed if the humans were able to create a feast in their small, but growing, town.

Nevertheless, Sil was right. Having numbers as the town’s name was dull and uninspiring. Even an industrial town like Macksten had a name. She was also correct in that the name should be chosen by everyone, though personally, Narati would name it ‘Barlowtown’ in memory of the first person he considered a friend: Jacques Barlow. That name, however, presented a lot of problems regarding Jacques’s dark past. Raine would have mixed feelings about it, and Karkas would object. Narati noticed that, ever since the revelation of what Jacques did, Karkas no longer referred to Jacques by name, but only as ‘the wolf’. Sadly, the Croc lost all respect for Jacques to even saying his name.

He could also suggest the name ‘Wind Guard’, referring to Raine’s surname: Windegarde. But then, when Narati wrote it down, he realized how ridiculous it sounded. There was no strong wind around the town, and no one would actually name a town from an actual wind guard, which was a leather coat. Narati knew about it after being suggested by Raine when they were facing a sandstorm a couple of months ago.

He sighed. Sil was right. It’s better that everyone pitched in with their suggestions and see what came out the best in the end. Keeping this in mind, he thanked Sil for this suggestion and proceeded to walk with him back to the town to discuss this with Raine and the others.