~ Episode Fourteen ~
Welcome to the Dreaming Tree:
The Star Warriors’ Official First Meeting!
“Seruma, Thompson!” As they passed the double doors of the second floor hall, Eri Seruma and Mackenzie Thompson glanced over their shoulders to find Shinji Izuma and Evan Williams heading towards them through the mass of noisy kids that crowded the stairs behind them.
“What’s with you and last names?” Mackenzie demanded when the boys caught up. “So formal.”
Shinji ignored her. “Just a reminder, our meeting is today at lunch.”
“Can’t we have our meeting after school?” Eri asked.
“No can do,” said Evan. He leaned forward on bended knee, extending an arm, and sang at the top of his lungs: “I have – choir-r-r-r-r practi-i-i-i-ce!”
Mackenzie shoved him out of the way, laughing. “You’re such a weirdo.”
“You got that big recital coming up soon, don’t you?” said Shinji, shouldering past as well.
“That’s right! You still coming?”
“Yeah, of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“But you would miss it to Seal Monsters if you had to. Right?”
“…Shut up.”
Eri giggled, following at Mackenzie’s heels. She threw a look at Shinji. “Has the Monster Dowser been acting up at all?”
Shinji flicked an annoyed glare from Evan to her, eyes softening. He tugged the straps of his backpack tight against his shoulders, shifting the weight. Eri couldn’t help but wonder if he carried the Monster Dowser everywhere with him. If it was in his bag now, as they walked to class.
“No,” he said. “And it’s got me nervous.”
The remainder of Class 208-B amassed around the Star Warriors and laid siege upon the coat rack outside of their classroom—hanging jackets and backpacks on plastic yellow pegs; throwing anything else onto the flat metal shelving just above; switching outdoor shoes with indoor shoes.
Ms. Youse was waiting for everyone atop an empty desk at the front of the class, the attendance folder splayed open over her crossed knee. Silent and military-grade authority gleamed in her eyes as her students entered single-file straight to their desks. She checked off names as quickly as she counted heads.
A single glance in their teacher’s direction stated the obvious to Eri: the solitary desk Ms. Youse sat upon was brand-spanking-new—ready to find a home among the already-crammed setup.
“The heck are you glowing about?” Mackenzie asked as they headed to their desks at the back of the class. “Eddi-chan!”
“N—nothing!”
“And I see Shinji is here today,” Ms. Youse stated, mostly to herself. She paused to scribble something in her notes. “Isa Keitel’s not here. That I already know…”
Whatever glow Macks thought Eri carried with her suddenly died like a smashed out light bulb. She sank into her seat with a disappointed sigh. Shinji, however, perked alert at the sound of the new and unfamiliar name.
After the National Anthem played alongside the regular song and dance of morning prayer and announcements, Ms. Youse crossed to her desk to gather a stack of graded papers into her arms.
“Oh, no…” Mackenzie shuddered and looked away.
“What’s wrong?” asked Eri.
“I think those are rubrics from our history presentations.”
Whenever Ms. Youse was finished marking work, she always had this sort of dark look in her eyes—like a starved shark in bloodied waters. Silent and graceful, she passed by the rows of desks—dropping rubric after rubric with each pair of students.
Eri watched Shinji’s expression as he read the sheet of paper that had danced into place upon his desk—a little taken aback, but otherwise unreadable. Evan rested his chin on Shinji’s shoulder and breathed a sigh of relief.
A whole decade passed before Ms. Youse finally came to Eri and Mackenzie. She handed off the rubric to Mackenzie without a word and moved right on.
“Not fair...” Mackenzie fell against her desk, face buried against her arms.
Eri tugged the rubric out from between her friend’s fingers. A big fat 68% sneered at her off the page, written in Ms. Youse’s infamous red sharpie marker. Eri’s eyes dropped to the Teacher Comments section:
VERY INFORMATIVE, BUT FLIMSY & ADDLED. LECTURE SHOULD HAVE BEEN SHARED EQUALLY BETWEEN THE BOTH OF YOU.
MOVIE CLIP WAS ACCURATE, BUT QUITE DARK FOR THE NATURE OF THIS CLASSROOM. PERHAPS TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD WOULD HAVE BEEN A MORE APPROPRIATE CHOICE.
TOO MUCH FOCUS ON AMERICAN DEPRESSION. NO DIONNE QUINTS??? NEXT TIME YOU WISH TO PROVIDE NOTES PLEASE COME ASK ME FIRST!!
“Oh, no! The Dionne Quintuplets! I knew we forgot something!” exclaimed Eri. “…Wait—Umm—what’s addled mean?”
“I don’t know,” Mackenzie moaned into the sleeves of her cardigan. “I don’t get it! We always work so hard, but she always, always, gives us a bad mark! Stupid Shinji. Stupid for being right all the time…”
“It’s okay, Macks,” Eri cooed, raking fingers through her friend’s blue-black hair. Doing so always seemed to calm Mackenzie down. “At least it’s a pass…”
~
Evan attacked his heaping order of nachos before the waitress even had a chance to remove her hand.
“Hey, careful!” Shinji grimaced, taking his basket of fries from her. “You’re going to cramp up again if you don’t slow down.”
Eri cringed at the enormous home-burger placed in front of her. “I dunno if I can eat this whole thing. Macks, you wanna split it?”
“Are you kidding?” Mackenzie eyed it with revulsion, forking through her chef’s salad. “No thanks.”
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“I’ll take half.” Shinji offered her a knife.
Eri beamed at him and awkwardly sawed the monstrous hamburger down the middle.
“Just plop it on here.” He held out the basket of fries to her from across the table.
“Mmkay. Um, how’s your nose?”
“Huh? Oh. Getting there, I think.”
Mackenzie watched them both, thoroughly amused, while Evan grazed on his meal like a goat in pasture, one knee bouncing out into the aisle. He scrubbed at his cheek, an unconscious act.
She asked him, “Hey, what’d you guys get on the project?”
“Oh, eighty-something,” Shinji casually replied, squirting ketchup everywhere.
“Eighty?!” Mackenzie screeched.
Eri fought to restrain her from diving across the booth to strangle both boys. “Macks, chill!”
Shinji frowned at her and craned a look over the backrest to make sure no one was on their way to kick them out. “Okay, marks aside, let’s get to business. So, as we know, Sufocus sent four Monsters after the Child of Destiny within the span of two days.”
Everyone nodded.
“Nagamani, the Monster of Bastion. Then Kyupo, the Monster of Velocity—both on the same day. Night before last, we faced both Cloria and Zorfus, the Monsters of Radiance and Darkness.”
“Are we even counting Cloria?” Mackenzie asked. “I thought you said she was a good Monster.”
“Yes, but technically she was still acting on Sufocus’ behalf. She joined his army willingly, remember?” Shinji reminded her. “This surge in activity is unprecedented. Before now, Evan and I fought a Monster maybe once a week—if that. The most obvious explanation is that the Black King is getting impatient. We’re winning, and he’s scared.”
“We’re winning?” Eri asked, her attention perked. “That’s good!”
Evan pondered this. “That makes sense. So, you think he’s trying to wear us down, you mean?”
“Or kill us,” Mackenzie muttered.
Eri stuck her hand in the air.
“This isn’t school, Seruma, you don’t need to raise your hand.”
“Ah … Um, why does this Black King guy, Viktor Suf … Sufocus? Why’s he keep sending Monsters after this … Child of Destiny? Why doesn’t he just go after her himself?” Eri exchanged looks with Mackenzie, who shrugged in mid-chew. “I mean, doesn’t it make sense to do that, since he’s supposed to be like this powerful sorcerer or something?”
“Does he even know what she looks like now?” Mackenzie added. “You said Child of Destiny, Shinji. What exactly does that mean, anyway? Who are we looking for here, a baby?”
“The Child of Destiny was sent forward seven centuries from the year 1286,” Shinji explained. “I think it’s a safe bet we’re looking for a kid our age.”
“A kid our age? That’s crazy!” Eri said, astonished by the thought.
“You’re serious?” Mackenzie blinked. “Shinji, you’re saying she could be someone from our school?—Oh, there’s that new transfer student, what’s her name again?”
“Isa!” Eri eagerly supplied—then froze. “Wait, you don’t think—”
Mackenzie shrugged again, taking a bite of salad. “Just a thought. I mean, her moving here works out, right?”
Eri’s chin dipped as she considered this. Shinji and Evan eyed her in silence from behind forgotten plates of food.
“Hey—how’ll we even recognize this kid?”
“Our bloodline,” Shinji answered Mackenzie, plainly. “What I mean is, our elemental connection to the Child of Destiny—and to each other, by extension. I assume we’ll just naturally gravitate towards her.”
“...You mean, like a magnet?”
“Exactly. Her innate magic combines all elements. And each of us carries the magic of a single element, carried down through our ancestry: Water. Air. Fire. Earth. Spirit. Our families ending up in the same town isn’t total coincidence.”
“No wonder Dad wanted to move back here…” Eri murmured.
“Sounds like a bad harem anime.” Mackenzie snorted, reclining against their booth. “Well, whatever. If it works, then that’s all that matters, right? I’m assuming the Monsters are drawn to the Child of Destiny in the same way?”
“Can’t say for certain. It could be that, considering they’re literally divine elemental manifestations. But it could also be due to the Black King’s influence. Who’s to say?”
They all pondered this for a time.
Shinji piped up again: “Seruma, to answer your question, I’m not sure why the Black King hasn’t shown up yet. What I do know is the Kenah’dai are all trapped in an alternate dimension with him, under his control. Makes sense he’d send them in lieu of a direct strike, even if it is a distraction to wear us down.”
Evan nodded. “Yeah. But, I mean—the guy’s human, right? He’s gotta come after our girl himself sooner or later.” He laughed. “Everyone’s got their limit for incompetency.”
“So either this Sufocus Black King guy is really patient or really stupid,” Mackenzie clarified.
“Thompson, this is serious stuff, okay?”
“I am serious!”
“Naw, you don’t really understand yet,” Evan said to her. “He’s like—I dunno—like, you know when there’s an annoying itch in your butt you can’t scratch, because it’s so far in?”
Mackenzie choked in mid-swallow. She pounded on her chest. “Evan!”
“It’s like that!” Evan said, snapping his fingers. “You know what I mean exactly, ‘Kenzie!”
“Shut up while you still can,” she wheezed, glaring daggers at him. Eri slid her a glass of water.
“Are you both done?” Shinji asked. “I think the best thing we can do is just keep a lookout. You know, like a patrol? The Monster Dowser is basically a medieval mine detector. Why not use that to our advantage?”
“Yeah, that makes sense,” Evan said.
“Why us, though? This feels like something for the military to deal with, not a buncha kids,” Mackenzie said. Eri wrinkled her nose at the thought.
“The only people who can stop Sufocus are sitting around this table,” Shinji said. “We were born to fight against the corruption of the Kenah’dai. We’re the only ones able to defy the memory charm invoked after the Monsters are Sealed. The fate of the Child of Destiny rests in our hands.”
“God, Shinji—”
“Macks!”
“—Do you at least know this kid’s birth name? Constantly calling her the Child of Destiny is giving me lock-jaw.”
“Oh. Yeah,” he said. “It’s—”
The bell over the diner entry jangled to life.
Eri’s heart fluttered with immediacy away from the conversation when Isa Keitel appeared in the lobby, heading straight for the take-out counter.
A woman followed her in—most likely her mother from the tall height and scarlet hair they shared. Both wore beat-up, paint-smeared, clothes. It looked like they were ready for a six-hour nap.
“Isa!” Eri craned over the table, waving.
“Eri, oh my God, what are you doing?” Mackenzie buried her face in her hands.
Shinji pushed up to gander over the booth’s backrest. “Who’s that? New girl?”
“Yeah,” said Evan peeking around the seat. “The heavy metal chick I told you about!”
“You guys, don’t stare!” Mackenzie hissed at them between her fingers.
Isa turned, startled by the sound of her own name. She found the Star Warriors all considering her with varying levels of interest and curiosity from the booth they shared at the back of the diner. She studied them behind cautious eyes and raised a hand just high enough to offer Eri a timid twitch of a wave.
The cashier handed a large paper takeout bag to Isa’s mother, who forked over some money from the butt pocket of her ratty-looking blue jeans. She gently urged Isa out the door.
But Isa hesitated.
She was spying Eri with rosy cheeks.
“C’mon, Izzy.” Mrs. Keitel took her daughter by the shoulder. Together they left The Dreaming Tree—but as the door swung shut behind them, Isa sneaked another glance over-shoulder.
“Anyway,” Evan said behind a yawn, “I think patrolling is a good idea, ‘cause who really knows when another … uh, Shinji?”
Eri, who’d been lost in confusing thoughts of Isa surrounded by blossoms, blinked alert to the sight of Shinji still staring out past the backrest. “…Shinji?”
“Shinji!” Mackenzie hammered him in the arm from across the table.
“Oww!!—Sorry. Did anyone catch the color of her eyes?”