NORA

Nuageux Academy has a sprawling campus. As far as the military academies go, it’s middle tier, but it’s perfect for Cel. Not so insubstantial that she has no chance of ever becoming an officer after graduation, but not so elite that her every move will be monitored. It’s the tail end of summer, the start of term, and the first time she will be allowed to go somewhere without Teacher or Uncle Arthur.

She’s excited, but they’re nervous wrecks.

Nora’s exasperated just looking at them and groggy from waking up so early to catch the train. She’s not allowed to attend the academy officially, but she’s been given leave to follow Cel around as her bodyguard. Teacher insists that she pay attention in classes regardless. His ominous declaration from this morning--“I’ll be testing you when you get home”--haunts the back of her thoughts. She’s listed in Nuageux’s records as a military employee (without pay, she grudgingly thinks) but they can’t stop her from learning if she’s in the same classrooms as Cel to do her “job”.

Teacher and Uncle Arthur hover over Cel in the entrance courtyard, reluctant to separate from her. Teacher looks on the verge of tears; Uncle Arthur looks like he’s thinking about burning the place down. Cel bounces on her toes, ready to run into the nearest building at the first opportunity. She’ll undoubtedly inhale whatever knowledge the instructors dish out at her at an inhuman speed. She was practically foaming at the mouth when Uncle Arthur read off her class list yesterday.

Nora’s not excited about the lectures at all. They sound boring, like the language and history lessons Teacher forces her through every morning. From here on out those, at least, will cease. But the people? That part Nora’s excited for. She loves Cel, but the idea of having a friend her own age, a friend who isn’t ten times smarter than she is and damn near half as young, would be nice.

She stares at the students ambling into the surrounding buildings. They’re all wearing the black uniforms of Nuageux, striped along the seams with Malroix purple. Their ages range from ten to eighteen. Nora’s not allowed to wear their uniform--thank the Cores; she’d rather not--but in her plain blue shirt and form-fitting pants, she stands out like a sore thumb. (Not to mention the obvious--her right arm--which draws enough curious glances on its own. Luckily, her sleeve is long enough to cover the worst of the scarring.) Cel is adorned in the appropriate attire for a student, but she’s the smallest student Nora has seen so far, and that worries her. She clenches her fist in anticipation.

If someone so much as looks at her funny I’ll punch them in the teeth!

She seethes just thinking about those inevitable encounters. Even among so many people, her family stands out. There are some Malroix with dark hair, but most have hair that is long and white. A gray head pops up here or there, but they are few and far between. Uncle Arthur won’t allow Cel to show her natural hair color regardless. Hers has a telling metallic sheen, like polished steel. For now (and likely forevermore while in public) she wears one of Teacher’s shadows over her hair and eyes. Nora almost wishes she could do the same.

Her own eyes are blue, a Malroix color, but her golden hair is unlike anyone else’s in the city--anyone’s but the remnants of her people in the prison called Chitir. She’s grown taller in the time since the apartment burned down. She’s all muscle and too proud to hide it. Meanwhile, Teacher is blatantly Kairii and Uncle Arthur is unapologetically Simikee.

They’re outsiders, foreigners. Even with Uncle Arthur’s military fame, the Malroix still look at them and see something other.

The only one of their group with any true hope of blending in is Cel, but she’s so short, and her expression is often so serious and her eyes are so piercing that she makes even adults nervous. Nora hopes she grows more soon. At Cel’s age, Nora is certain that she herself was quite a bit taller.

“You know the rules, Little General.” Uncle Arthur kneels before Cel to push her hair out of her eyes. The length of it in back is pulled into a tight bun, but her bangs hang free. There’s no regulation stating she can’t have them loose.

“No talking back. No fighting.” She leans forward and whispers. “And no fire.”

He tweaks her ear. “Atta girl.”

Standing up, he turns to Nora. “And you?”

Nora straightens. “Keep an eye on Cel. Stay close to her. Protect her. Report anything suspicious.” Her eyes dart to Teacher. “And pay attention to the lectures,” she mutters.

Teacher smiles and comes over to tighten her ponytail, then tuck her sea cookie necklace into her shirt. “Keep this hidden,” he tells her. “I know you're fond of it, but it will only draw more negative attention.” He pulls her into a hug, and Nora melts against him. “I love you, Nora.”

Her heart compresses. “I love you, too, Teacher.”

He pulls away and smiles. “You’ll do just fine.”

Nora glances aside, where Uncle Arthur is hugging Cel so tightly that her face is turning pink.

“Daddy,” she whines, clawing at his shoulders, “you’re crushing me!”

Nora laughs at her strained expression when Uncle Arthur smirks. Without pulling away, he says something into Cel’s ear that Nora can’t make out. When he finally releases her, her face is deathly serious.

Teacher sighs. He often does when Uncle Arthur provokes such an expression from Cel. “She’s barely ten, Arthur. Let her be.”

Uncle Arthur steps aside so Teacher can draw Cel into a much gentler embrace. “Have fun, Little General,” he tells her, pinching her cheek and making her scowl. “That’s better,” he says on a chuckle as she bats his hand away. “We love you.”

She scuffs one of her new boots against the concrete, her excitement dimming. “Love you, too.”

Nora slips her arm over Cel’s shoulders and tugs. “We should get going, Cel, or you’ll be late.”

Cel lets Nora guide her into the nearest building. Even as they step inside, Nora glimpses Uncle Arthur and Teacher standing in the courtyard over her shoulder, watching them leave with pained expressions.

“You think they’ll be alright?” Cel asks as the door closes at their backs, and the crowded white hallway becomes their focus.

Nora tugs at a lock of Cel’s bangs, catching the curious eyes of a passing student—a pretty, pale girl with white hair and big blue eyes. When Nora shamelessly holds her gaze, the girl looks away, blushing. “They’ll be fine, Cel. I think for now, we should worry about ourselves.”

“Yeah,” Cel agrees, drawing herself up to her full height and nudging Nora’s arm off her shoulder. “I’m going to be the best.”

Nora pats her shoulder, in full agreement. “I’m sure you are.”