One Shy

 

Despite his earlier reluctance, Eloquence was glad he’d come. This boy had needed him. “May I ask your name?”

“Tenma Subaru.”

He was definitely calmer, but obviously embarrassed. Retaining his hold on his classmate’s wrists, he lifted them until the boy’s gaze jumped back to his. “Nice to meet you, Subaru-kun. I’m Eloquence Starmark.”

“R-really?”

“Quite sure.”

“Does that mean you’re related to Harmonious Starmark?”

“Closely.” Quen nodded to the embroidered crest on his shoulder—copper thread glinting against dark brown cloth. “Dad’s the spokesperson for the dog clans.”

“You’re a dog.”

“Yes.”

“And your mother’s human?”

Tenma’s grip had tightened, but this wasn’t fear. If anything, he seemed eager. His scent had brightened considerably. Eloquence smiled. “Yes, Mum is human. She’s my stepmother.”

“I saw that special. The one with all the interviews.”

“Who hasn’t?” Quen rolled his eyes. “They’ve aired ‘Heart of a Dog’ every year since my brother was born. It’s becoming an international Christmas Eve tradition.”

“You’re a dog.”

“Third generation. We covered that bit, remember?” Tenma’s scent was all over the place. “Hey, are you okay, Subaru-kun?”

But before he could quiz the boy further, Ms. Reeves called for attention.

“We’ll dedicate the rest of our morning to essentials. Let’s address a few matters of cultural diversity. As I said before, like a third of you, I’m a reaver. We’re an international community with no borders, and over many centuries, we’ve developed our own unique culture. Part of your curriculum at New Saga will involve learning about reaver history, traditions, and festivals.” 

Eloquence’s attention strayed to his other classmates. Twelve groups, with Amaranthine representatives from seven clans. He’d fully expected the support of horses and wolves, but the phoenix was a surprise.

Ms. Reeves went on. “Although the extent varies by clan, the Amaranthine are generally known for expressing themselves in tactile ways. They seek contact. So let me remind the Amaranthine representatives that all of our human students are Japanese. Local culture will require you to exercise restraint.”

Quen’s gaze drifted between the phoenix and his boy. The pair must have attended the all-boys’ school just down the road from the Starmark compound. It had been the first to welcome a small group of Amaranthine students. If they’d been roommates since then, they must have transferred together. That was interesting.

He dismissed their reaver partner at a glance. Hisoka Twineshaft must have cut a wide swath through the lower ranks of reavers at Ingress, choosing those with diplomatic leanings. These emissaries of the In-between were a far cry from the dazzling set still being groomed by the mentors and staff at the Academy. Was it a concession to the risk the clans were taking in yielding their young?

“Another potential source of discomfiture surrounds the use of names.” Ms. Reeves began writing a series of honorifics on the board. “Please bear in mind that our human students are accustomed to being addressed by their surname. Only use a classmate’s given name with their express permission, since it’s intensely personal. Wolves, you might consider it the equivalent of being asked by a casual acquaintance if they can touch your tail.”

Soft grunts and a quickly-stifled growl rippled from the three wolf clan representatives.

“Horse and gazelle clans, consider the presumption involved when someone asks you to transform so they can ride you.”

Pained expressions and more murmurs. Eloquence had to admire the diplomat’s use of examples that would serve as warnings to the human students. Those kinds of requests were as common as they were rude.

After a brief explanation of honorifics, Ms. Reeves moved on to Amaranthine forms of address. “Several clans do have titles that denote high rank or respect. You’ll be familiar with spokesperson, which is given to those who speak for their clan. Some assign lord and lady to their members of the upper rank. And other titles inform about age, role, line, expertise, or familial attachments. But we shall proceed as a classroom of peers. Humans, simply tell your partners what name you wish your classmates to use. Your opportunity will come next, for when dealing with Amaranthine, the first courtesy is a proper introduction.”

Tenma whispered, “That was in our registration packets. I forgot. I’m sorry.”

“Our meeting was not lacking in any way.” Eloquence withdrew a hand and placed it over Tenma’s heart. “You carry my sigil. You know my name. You have my loyalty. If anything, I am remiss; all of my questions for you remain unasked.”

“Is this important?” Tenma stared at Quen’s hand. “What does this mean?”

He frowned thoughtfully. “I’ve never tried to put it into words before. I … wanted to reassure you. To ask you to trust me.”

“Oh.” Tenma relaxed noticeably.

At the front of the room, Ms. Reeves said, “It’s simplest to demonstrate. Then you can go through a round of introductions within your triads. Hanoo-fel, would you be willing to assist?”

One of the adolescent wolves seated near the front of the room stood.

Their teacher offered her hands to him, palms up. “I’m Reaver Adelaide Reeves, diplomat class and a teacher at New Saga High School in Keishi. Welcome to Class 3-C.”

The wolf settled his hands atop hers. “I am called Hanoo-fel Nightspangle. If you can’t already tell by my garbling of the local language, I transferred here from America. I’m grateful for your mediation.”

Ms. Reeves smiled. “Hanoo-fel is your given name?”

“Yes. Nightspangle is my pack, and Hanoo-fel is my given name. In the language of wolves, it means ‘thundering moon,’ since I was born during a summer storm.”

“And how would you like your classmates to address you?”

“Hanoo is good,” he said, turning to include all of them in his invitation. “Please feel free to call me Hanoo.”

Their teacher nodded again and addressed the class. “At this point in any introduction, the way is made for other questions. Your curiosity and interest show your new Amaranthine acquaintance that you’re interested in becoming friends. Do any of you have questions for Hanoo?”

One of the reavers led the way. “What part of America does the Nightspangle pack call home?”

“We helped found an urban enclave in the Midwest.” He gave a little shrug. “I probably shouldn’t say anything else since we’re still in hiding.”

Eloquence knew that their people were having a harder time finding acceptance in the United States. In many places, stigmas and suspicion kept whole Amaranthine communities from declaring themselves.

Akira’s hand shot up. “How are you related to the other two guys wearing the Nightspangle crest?”

“First and foremost, we’re packmates.” At Hanoo’s signal, the other two wolves stood. He said, “Yoota-soh is my cousin, the son of my mother’s sister. I can tell him from Ploom by his scent and by the swing of his tail, but you might want to check for beads. Yoota’s are blue.”

The young wolf, whose tail swept wide in silent amusement, turned so everyone could see the collection of turquoise beads knotted into his long hair.

Hanoo continued, “Ploom-ret is also my cousin, the son of my father’s sister. He’s never gotten the hang of shoes, so he’s usually barefoot. You can tell him apart because he has brown eyes. Yoota and I both have yellow, which is more common for our pack.”

“And what’s your distinguishing feature?” asked Ms. Reeves.

Hanoo’s grin was all fang. “Rank. I’m acting alpha.”

“Which just means he struts more,” said Yoota. “But the way he spikes his hair is hard to ignore.”

“Hey!” grumbled Hanoo, running one hand over his bristling shock. “I don’t do nothing to my hair. This is natural.”

Ploom chimed in. “And his baby sister made him swear never to take off that bracelet.”

“And I won’t.” Without a trace of embarrassment, Hanoo raised his left arm, showing off a double-strand of pink plastic pearls. “Wolves keep their promises.”

A couple of the human girls made soft aww-ing noises that put a little extra lift in Hanoo’s tail.

Ms. Reeves seemed pleased with progress and set the groups to the task of formal introductions. “We have until mid-high before we need to move on, so take your time asking questions. I’ll be available to mediate as needed.”

“Mid-high?” asked Tenma.

All around the room, other students were asking the same thing. Ms. Reeves simply smiled and left the explanations to the group members.

Eloquence used a flat hand to describe the angle of the sun. “Halfway to the sun’s zenith, so midmorning. Amaranthine don’t rely on clocks, so we’ll reference the position of the sun, moon, stars, or tides, as appropriate.”

Tenma checked his watch, then glanced around the room. “Is it just me, or are we short a reaver?”

Quen slouched further in his chair. “Do we really need one?”

But a weedy, wide-eyed boy at the neighboring table had noticed the lone duo. “Reeves-sensei, those two don’t have a reaver.”

“What? Oh, my. Why didn’t you speak up, Eloquence?”

A couple of titters came from the same girls who’d approved Hanoo’s bracelet.

Ms. Reeves’ posture begged for patience. “I suppose that was rather ironic. But Eloquence is his given name. You’ll get used to the dog clans’ naming sense as you meet more of them. For instance, Sentinel Skybellow is head of our school’s security team.”

Conscious of the whole class’s interested scrutiny, Tenma turned and placed his hands on the table. Quen did the same, giving the boy some space.

“We should divide neatly.” Scanning the class, then peering at her roster, Ms. Reeves murmured, “Who’s missing?”

Every Amaranthine in the room turned their attention to the door.

Several moments later, the rest could hear the echo of running feet out in the hallway. Then the door slid open, and a girl entered. “Sorry!” she gasped, doubling over as she tried to catch her breath.

Quen tested the air, then leaned forward. This reaver—their reaver—was pink-cheeked from her run, bright-eyed with eagerness, and closely-kept by no less than three levels of warding. She was a slender, leggy pre-adolescent with an abundance of dark blonde curls, and her eyes picked up the willow-green of her tunic.

The girl straightened, then bowed to their teacher. “I apologize for being so late, Reeves-sensei. There was a mix-up in the office, and they wouldn’t let me through.” With a mischievous little smile, she added, “They seemed to think I was too young, but my mentor sorted them out.”

“I’m sure he did.” Ms. Reeves made a note on her paper. “We’ve been chatting about proper introductions. Will you make yours for the class?”

“Of course, Sensei.” And turning to the room with a warm smile, she said, “I'm Isla Ward of Stately House, apprentice to Hisoka Twineshaft. My designations are linguist, cultural liaison, and diplomat.”