He called her a Month Warrior. A reincarnation of a legend that was the bread and butter of her entire worldview, whether she chose to believe it wholeheartedly or not. She remembered spending her twelfth birthday packed in the school tent, wistfully reciting the elements of each stone while balancing an Old Thought tome on her crown. Her long, slender neck had enough trouble keeping that bobble head afloat on her narrow shoulders, let alone with the addition of such a thick collection of yellowed paper. The tome was bound in a back so old that the corners of the cover wiggled more her adolescent teeth. The Sun People were more apt to teach their children about the battles and homelands of mythical figures who felt more like dreamy superheroes than actual historical figures, and not basic things like math or science. In fact, the only reason Tallyho was able to learn how to read (and trust sheās not the best reader) was because her grandmother insisted on making her and her cousins read every verse of the Battle of the Gems before bedtime. It wouldnāt do, Baba always said, to believe anything you couldnāt discover for yourself.
While Babaās words were intended to help her grandkids relish in the Airesian equivalent of the Holy Ghost, Tallyho used the lesson to justify her own disinterest in spirituality. Because after all, it wouldnāt due for her to believe in something like the month warriors or even the cyclopean if she hadnāt seen any proof with her own eyes. Just a day ago she could have cared less about the feats her birth warrior and yet here she was, newly saved from being eaten by a cyclopean and seated across from a man who gave her the biggest ājokes on youā moment of her 19 years of consciousness.
What an ironic turn of events. She didnāt see the proof because she was the proof.
The whole thing hit her like a tree collapsing. And she was stuck under it, reeling in disbelief, laughing in dark comedy. As heather pressed for questions and the ambiguous looking blonde trudged out of the room, Tallyho rolled her eyes to the ceiling and released a wheeze of a chuckle from her chest.
āYou joking me, yes?ā Her voice was firm and loud but when her eyes finally fell on Haruās sincerely stoic mug she knew his answer. If that news wasnāt enough to help her catch a second wind after such a coma-inducing meal, then nothing would have. āYou tell me I have power? Like what I just zap? Like that?ā
Truthfully, Haru expected more difficult reactions. A mass retaliation, a slashed throat. Something a little more headache inducing. But this? Well he could kind of tolerate this. While a portion of the warriors seemed to gruffly accept whatās to come next (he quietly took note of who), another portion asked what would objectively be seen as reasonable questions. But donāt be fooled. A third portion seemed extremely happy to leave the premises immediately and never come back. But those problems tend to take care of themselves usually.
Haru remained quiet as the group came forth with their own questions and decisions. He waited patiently when Jules left, not very insecure about the teenās likelihood of coming back. If the way the blonde clutched that bag was any indication of how disturbed they were was by this situation, Haru knew that they wouldnāt risk even one night out in the world alone. Jules hadnāt been gone for very long before they marched back to their seat at the table exasperated and, to say quite plainly, shook.
Haru sat up in his chair and the old wood whined and creaked against the pressure of his shifting weight.
āThis isā¦ not a joke Iām afraid. But I promise that when you finish this you will go home and everything and everyone will be just how you left them. But in order to secure your future you must sacrifice your time now. If you do not trust me, and you want to take your chances out there aloneā¦ Well you are adults and I cannot stop you. Please, walk through this door and do not look back. I can only warn that you are safer as a team than alone. But if you do trust meā¦ Well, the sooner we win the war, the sooner you get home.ā