Here I am, at my favorite testing spot, working on a new sword for the revolution. This one is supposed to light on fire when it’s swung, to pack that extra bit of punch. It’s not anything revolutionary, but it’ll help me break into weapon design and really start helping. I’m excited about it; I’ve been working on it for weeks, and it’s my first time testing it out. Hopefully, if everything goes well, it will work without issue. I don’t want to keep Ted and the others waiting. I tuck the exposed wires back into the hilt, cover the opening with the removable plate, and stand up. It’s time to test.

I flick a small switch on the bottom of the hilt. The runes on the sword start to glow orange; a good sign. This matches what the runes are supposed to do, at least based on my reading. I take a quick breath in, and swing the sword. As I swing, it lights ablaze, leaving a bright orange trail in its wake. Pleased, I stand there for a moment, sword at my side, and think about what just happened. It worked! And then, I look at the sword.

It’s still on fire.

Worse, in my inattentiveness, I had let the tip touch the grass at my feet. I hastily stomp out the small fire before it can spread, and look to the sword. It’s difficult to tell through the flames, but the glow of the runes has deepened into a darker red color. This was not in the reading. I panic as the runes start to flash. The sword is still ablaze, and I fear the worst. In a last ditch effort, I throw the sword to the ground and smother it in my jacket. I can see the runes glowing through the fabric, still flashing brighter.

As I try to douse the flame, the sword reaches some critical point, and I feel a sudden burst of force, sending me and the jacket flying. I land on my back, and look up to see soot flying in every direction. What a mess. After some time, I notice that I’ve been covered in soot, too. At least I came out here, where nobody could see. This is a humiliating failure, and if the queen found out I’d be in serious trouble. This incident will stay between me, the sword, and my jacket.

“Are you alright?” A voice calls out from behind me.

It’s over. I’m doomed. Everyone’s going to find out, and then the queen is going to have my head. Ma and pa are gonna lose their kid because he got too reckless and tried to help the resistance. It’s all over.

“Everything’s just fine!” I stammer out, my voice shaking a bit. It’s a bad lie. At least the person can’t see my face.

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“I heard a loud noise, and you’re on the ground. Do you need help?” This person seems kind, at least. Maybe there’s hope for me yet.

I stand up and start dusting myself off. It helps me gain a bit of composure. “I was just working on a little hobby project, and it backfired. Nothing to worry about.” I turn around and see a woman, about my age, standing next to one of the trees at the edge of the clearing. It takes every ounce of self-control I can muster to keep my composure and not beg for her to leave and pretend she never saw me.

She laughs a bit. “You’ve got soot on your face. Would you like a handkerchief?”

My mind is racing a million miles an hour. Does this mean I’m not in trouble? Could she be trying to lower my guard somehow? How long was she standing at the edge of the clearing? Why haven’t I seen her in town before?

After a pause, I manage to let out a small “sure, thanks.” She walks up to me and offers a handkerchief. It’s a pink thing, with a floral pattern delicately woven into the fabric.

I can hardly bring myself to touch it. “Do you really want to get soot on something this pretty?”

She gives me a confused look. “That’s what it’s for, isn’t it?”

“It looks like it cost a lot of money, though. I don’t want to ruin it. Where did you even get something like this?”

At this, she seems to lose a bit of patience. “Would you like the handkerchief, or not?” She pushes it a little further toward my hand, as if to indicate her willingness to sully the thing.

I stare for just a little longer before taking the handkerchief. We sit in silence as I wipe my face. Once I finish, I look at it in my hand. The entire thing has taken on a darker tint, and parts of the floral pattern are completely obscured by soot. The woman speaks again. “See? It cleaned your face just the same. It’s still a handkerchief, even if it’s fancy.”

Now that I’ve calmed down a bit, I take a closer look at her. Her hair is well-done, possibly by a professional. The clothes she’s wearing have no real signs of wear, and the colors are brighter than the standard fare I see in town. “Who are you?”

She gives a smile. “I’m Zhuli. And you are?”

For a moment, I consider using a pseudonym. I decide against it. “I’m Adrian.”

“Nice to meet you, Adrian!” She reaches out her hand to shake mine. My hand is still smudged with soot and grease from working with the sword. After some thought, I reach out to return the handshake. She takes my hand eagerly.

“Nice to meet you too, Zhuli.”