A S R I E L

The baker takes a step towards him, and the boy takes a step back in turn. He has to keep his mind on track, this situation could get serious quickly. “A’ight kid, one more chance ta give me the pastries. I don’t wan’ it turnin’ messy. You’ve been stealin’ my goods for a while now, an’ I can’t stand to lose more money ta ya.”

“W-well, ain’t that unfortunate,” started the boy nervously, getting ready to teleport out. “A guy’s gotta eat, though. Can’t be starvin’ myself just ‘cause y-ya need to make a profit.”

“Alright, that’s quite ‘nough, youngin’. I can let ya keep some o’ the stuff ya stole if ya give me some of my own back. Can’t give away too much free food, now can I?”

“That’s quite friendly of ya, lad. Too bad I can’t spare any o’ this food.” The thief begins to feel his body move to his home, the nauseous feeling of teleportation spreading to his stomachs. 

“Can’t say I didn’t give ya a chance, kid!” The baker, dropping his forelegs to the ground, begins to run at the kid. He gets closer faster and the teleportation feels as though it’s going slower than usual. He needs to be faster. Faster, faster, faster—

— — —

“Amare! You’re back!” cried a young voice. 

“Yeah y-yeah, I’m here.” The boy, Amare, slipped the bag containing stolen pastries onto the floor. “Now ‘old on a s-sec, don’ wanna th-throw my guts to the ground.”

“Yeah yeah, take yer time, but what took ya so long? I was almost knockin’ on Her door!”

“The baker finally caught on. ‘Ad to run away. Sorry I took s-so long.”

“The baker man sounds mean,” Amare’s little brother said as he peered into the bag. “What’d ya get this time?”

“Oh, I got a l-lot this time! We’ve got tertos, st-stabacks, tratas, lombolomi, and lugab ju-junams. I made sure to get s-some o’ yer favorites.”

“Thank you, Amare!” 

“‘S no problem at all, Altora.” The younger runs up to his brother and tackles him into a hug, smushing his face into his older brother’s stomach. “Ha, w-what’d ya think yer doin’, kid?”

“Gettin’ the snuggles ya promised me earlier.”

“Least l-let me get myself situated before tryna attack hug me, bud.”

“Nooo, wan’ snuggle now,” whined Altora, cuddling up closer to his brother. “Ya left fer too long and now ya must pay the price of yer insolence!”

“Now where’d ya learn a big word like that?” Amare wraps his arms around Altora as he asks.

“The orphan lady complained ‘bout some new kids bein’ a bother. Said somethin’ ‘bout them bein’ ‘insolent’.”

“Y-you were hangin’ ‘round the boardin’ ‘omes?” Altora suddenly goes rigid.

“Uhhh, no?” He slowly unwraps his arms from Amare to take a step back.

“Uh-huh. And my name is Sh-Sharon. Why in the nine hells would ya go near one of those? They could take ya without any warning.”

“I-I know… I jus’ wanted ta see how my cousin was doin’.”

“It’s ok-kay as long as yer not caught. I know ya must get bored while I’m gettin’ food fer us. Just- just be c-careful, yeah?”

“O’ course! Those old hags can’t catch me!”

“I-I trust ya, k-kid. Just. Be. C-careful.”

“I know, I know. WELL, ‘side from that… let’s actually get to eating!” It was an obvious dismissal of the topic. It was a conversation for another day, it seemed. 

Now that food was served and finished, Amare dismissed himself to get started on his studying with a ruffle to his brother’s hair. He needs to get into the ACOTKU to keep his brother safe. If he doesn’t, he’ll end up leaving his brother all alone next year. The draft age was his next closer to the end, and that is bad. So very bad. He knows well what happened to his family, as well as Altora’s, and he doesn’t want it to happen to him. Their shoddy little planet is always a target, and that always bleeds into the people. They are targets and use their all to fight back. And he means their all. One or both sides always end up dead, and the one is never his own planet’s people. He opens the thick alien sciences book he had “borrowed” from the nearby library. They wouldn’t miss their umpteenth copy of–he peaks at the cover–A Comprehensive Guide to the Biology of All Known Intelligent Species. Lady Death below, that title is long. And unnecessary. Wait, need to get back on track. Amare kills that train of thought and finds his bookmark. He dog-eared his books. “Heathenous behavior,” his brother called it. “Practical,” Amare called it. And it was! There were plenty of reasons to fold the corner of a page instead of using a bookmark. 

That is, again, beside the point. Amare actually begins to read the page he needed. The teen pulls out his worn 5 subject notebook, which he got from Death-knows-where, and opens it up to his most recent page. “Sherannings–” the book reads– “are a highly dangerous and have comparatively low intellect among dominant species, despite their portrayal in the children’s show Sharon the Sheranning.” Huh, so that one kids show he used to watch was wrong. Darn. He continued reading and note-taking late into the night, not that it was a very long night. The summer months made their nights almost unbearably short, so the amount of time he worked was closer to 4 hours. That was, however, a lot for someone with an attention span like Amare’s. Luckily, he’s a fast reader and learner, having made his way through 50 pages of dense 0.6 text. The notebook, the poor thing, was stuffed full of messy writing and drawings so detailed that only the artist can understand the models. Amare marks his page and closes the notebook. He would need another one soon. Drat.

He dropped his face onto the notebook—Oh Lady Death, why did she have to kill him like this? Through studying. No one really needed to study much on his planet because of the low survival rate. What was the point if you were going to join the Lady once you hit the ripe ol’ age of 33? None—that’s the answer. There’s no reason to learn more than how to wield a weapon when that’s all you’ll be used for. The only reason he’s studying is to avoid the draft.

He finds no honor in dying to some pointless war for the umpteenth time. He wants to go to The Lady Below when he’s old and knows his brother will be alright. Amare sighs at these thoughts. He needs to make sure he can pass the entrance exam to begin formal training as a member of the ACOTKU. This is his and his brother’s one ticket away from that cursed draft, and he will not throw away the opportunity. No matter what.

Amare finds little sleep that cycle.