Music of the Night (Lance)

[Maya Frostfawn]

"I suppose you're right, although your words only scratch the surface." A pause. "For goods, such as food and drink, only hold their value while they are good, or in good condition. For what value does a rotten hunk of bread have? Or moldy fruit? A soiled and torn dress made of cheap cotton?" A pause. "I could go on for hours, but I imagine you get the point I am trying to convey. And gold, coin, lacks such weaknesses. While coins may be bent or chipped under extreme pressure, they cannot go bad. If they are melted down, they could be reforged into something new, something with value. And as long as we all agree they have some sort of value, they maintain their value over time, no matter how much they age." Although she did not realize it, this was a rather simplistic way of looking at it too, when concepts such as inflation and the like were taken into account. But given the fact that she hadn't had to buy food or drink, or really much outside of clothes and medical supplies for quite some time, she hadn't a clue. As they moved toward the music, and the human asked his question of her a second time, she couldn't help but smile. "I doubt that, given the mixture of your sweat and your stance." A pause. "I do not find your behavior novel; it's grown all too familiar to me the longer I've spent in this city. All of you are the same, but what can one expect when you all hardly make it past your youth?" Maya would follow him into the back. Unafraid. He was as likely to kill her as anyone else in the city, so she felt no need to be. When they reached the room he had chosen for their meeting, she settled neatly into her seat, tucking the skirt of her dress beneath her. "As for the answer to your previous question, I doubt my words would hold any meaning for you. That statement is not meant as an insult; it's not a matter of intelligence that would render my words incoherent or meaningless, as much as experience and exposure. You are young, and my people are quite rare. Perhaps the rarest race our world has to offer, although I know not for certain." A pause. "Because of our very nature, coupled with the interests many of us seem to share, we keep ourselves hidden in the shadows. And from what I have seen, rarely travel, especially outside the refuge most of us call home." A pause. "An island, not too far from here, which I left not too long ago because I wished for a change, I think." Another pause. "Some sun. That island is nothing like here." That wasn't entirely true, there were similarities, but she wasn't about to draw ties between Sahova and Sunberth. "It's a place designed for my people to thrive and survive through the ages, whereas everything outside, everything past where the water washes into the shore, is designed to break us. And yet..." That thought brings no fear, her mind finished. "As for the Gods and my knowledge of them, I suppose it would depend on which you are asking me of." A pause. "As with all things, I know more of some areas than others. Like you humans and your specialities." Everything was said as though the words meant nothing, in a monotone that conveyed no feeling. For she had no feeling. Not in this moment, not in this quiet place where she could hear the music faintly drifting through the walls. "Why do you ask of the beings who preside over this world?" she asked, curiously, her eyes trained on Lance, awaiting an answer to a question that seemed wholly out of place to her. Word Count: 644 Words