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Moonlight shone like silver, reaching everywhere, turning the bamboo groves on the mountains black beneath its glow. Insects chirped in the grass nearby, as thick and steady as falling rain. Now and then, from some unknown place, a grass warbler suddenly trilled, "Lo-lo-lo-lo-shoo."
The stars crowded the sky, busy yet utterly silent, making the heavens seem lively. A crescent moon resembled a girl not yet fully grown, no longer shy of being seen; its light and outline were fresh and distinct, gradually lending beauty to the night. Tiny insects held their murmuring conversations in the grass. Somewhere, a chorus of frogs croaked together, their cries like waves of sound brought to a boil over a fire. A few fireflies wandered leisurely, seeming not to fly but to float through the dense air. In a dark patch beyond the moonlight's reach, a firefly flickered into view. Rex rested with his eyes half closed.
A sudden sound startled Rex awake.
He immediately opened his eyes, which shone brightly in the darkness.
He rose, moving so gently that he made no sound, and lightly tapped one of the men beside him.
Rex had concealed his identity for this trip. After using the Orb of Deception, he had brought no guards, since their presence would have been an obvious flaw in his disguise, easily noticed.
To avoid discovery, Rex had even hidden who he was. No one in the crew laying the Wired Telegraph lines knew his true identity; he had arranged another identity for himself.
Still, Rex was not someone who mistreated himself. He would not give himself too lofty a position, but neither would he choose one too low.
Thus, his current identity fell