Realm of Token

A gentle leaf blowing in the wind often goes unnoticed. Ignored. Left abandoned in the dirt. A leaf is a lot like a person. All different colors, shapes, sizes. A leaf is only worth so much to a tree. But a person? They are worth something to everyone. They have so much potential. They can change the world. The leaf has one chance to be beautiful, one chance to show its true potential. But it takes time. A leaf must change color before it can become what it is meant to be. It must sacrifice itself by releasing its grip on the tree and plummet to the ground, to start its new life elsewhere.

Wherever the wind chooses to take it.

The pitter-patter of small feet trampled piles of leaves scattered along the ground, kicking them into the air with a cacophony of laughter to follow them. The leaves fluttered to the ground like feathers after their brief flight. Red, yellow, orange, and brown flurried all around as the little girl danced about the piles, her smile as wide as the sky and just as bright.

Her long, scarlet colored hair fell past her shoulders, her big carmine eyes squinted as her face as she tried to decide what to do next. It wasn't often that she was allowed to leave the confines of her house and take a walk, so she wanted to make the most of it. So she darted down the old dirt path, ignoring the twigs and rocks stabbing into her bare feet. Her hair flowed behind her as she ran, her wide eyes taking everything in as she ran, her excitement bubbling through her.

A large, looming tree stood at the edge of the dirt path. She came to a stop and gazed up at it, her eyes filled with wonder. The large, dark brown tree trunk seemed to stretch on forever, and she couldn't see the top for all the leaves blocking her vision. Her pointed ears twitched as she heard the shrill cry of birds off in the distance, and she jerked her head in the direction, trying to spot where they had come from. Leaves rustled on their tree limbs, and the bright sunlight filtered through the gaps in the branches, creating small spotlights on the ground.

The little girl reached her hand out and placed it flat against the trunk of the tree. It was rough and calloused, as it had seen years and years of good and bad weather, animals, and those hunting those animals. Her hand felt everything that the tree had felt, and her eyes almost saw what the tree saw. Stepping forward, she rested the side of her head on the trunk, feeling the warmth from where the sun had been beating down on it. Closing her eyes, she let out a sigh, feeling more content than she had in a while.

She didn't know why, but there was just something about this tree. Maybe it was because of how big it was. Maybe it was the color of the leaves, shining a bright kaleidoscope of colors. But her child mind told her that the tree was beautiful, and that she should give it a hug so it would know how beautiful it was. So that was what she did.

"Jester! Jester, get back here! I told you not to run away from me! Mother is going to be very upset."

The little girl jumped and flipped around, then giggled and ran further down the path, the white gown she wore billowing out behind her like a cape. Her feet slapped the ground, leaving imprints of her toes in the soft soil, and she could hear her sister getting closer to her. She had longer legs, and was faster than her. She could always catch her. But Jester loved a good chase.

Jester laughed loudly as she tried to hide in a bush, but her sister had spotted her before she could fully bury herself in the spiky branches and pulled her out, placing her feet on the ground and gripping her shoulders. Her sister was older than her by five years, so she was not only taller, but held more responsibility when it came to Jester and what she did when away from parental supervision. She looked into her sisters dark red eyes with such an innocent look on her face that it almost made it impossible to get angry at her.

Almost.

"What did I tell you? I told you to stay by me, but the second you got a chance, you ran away! One of these days, I'm not going to chase after you. I'll let you get lost and you'll come crying home." Her sister snapped, flicking Jester on the nose.

"Sorry, Kurja." Jester said with a wide smile. "I won't do it again."

"You said that last time," Kurja grumbled, standing up. "Come. Father is working, and Mother wants us to help her wash the laundry."

"Can I have a snack?" Jester asked in her sweetest voice, batting her eyes at her sister.

"Maybe, if you stop talking and hurry up."

"Yay!" Jester said, running ahead. She heard her sister mutter a curse and stomp behind her.

The two girls walked up the path, towards their home. It was a small house jumbled in with the other identical ones, each nearly impossible to differentiate from the other. All were the same size and made of the same wood and stone. Only the family symbols on the door made them easy to tell apart. Jester and Kurja's family symbol was from the first letter of their last name, Kere. Plastered on the door was a large red K with a jagged circle around it, and it was the only way Jester was able to tell which house was hers. That and the little patch of red flowers by the porch that their mother had planted last Spring. They stood tall now, the petals a deep red like blood.

Bellcrest was a small village, roughly about 40 acres. It sat on a sloped hilltop, completely hidden from outsiders by the thick forest all around. The houses were of a simple design, with small, slightly lopsided chimneys atop each roof. Small wooden fences sat behind each house, where leisure activities often took place. Near the opposite side of the village, a large building of a fairly different design sat, with an arched doorway and vines crawling up the sides like hands reaching upwards towards the sky.

No one could find Bellcrest unless they knew where they were looking, which was very rare, as no one wanted to go to Bellcrest.

It was where the Demons lived.

Bellcrest was split up by the different Demon breeds. The Demi-Demons, the weakest and smallest Demon race, took up a majority of the population, and lived in the main center of the town. Then there were Deity Demons, who were natural born leaders. They were tall, powerful, loud-spoken, and incredibly intelligent. The Demon Queen was a Deity Demon, and was said to be the most powerful. Those Demons were automatically summoned to join the Council of Demons, no questions asked. The Havoc Demons were the biggest Demons size-wise, with huge muscles and large, thick horns on their head, arms, elbows, and so on. Those Demons were always reserved for the army, regardless of skill. It was their sheer size that did all the work for them. They lived in the larger part of Bellcrest, with more room to roam and mingle. 

Finally, there was the Dark Demons. They were rumored to be the most powerful Demon race ever recorded, but after the Elven-Demon war, little had been seen of them. They were brutes, capable of overpowering the Havoc Demons as if they were children. No Dark Demons lived in Bellcrest since the war, as they had mysteriously disappeared. Most thought they had all died out. Others had different theories.

Kurja glanced at Jester as they walked along the crowded dirt path that ran straight through the village, looking her up and down. "You are impossible sometimes, I hope you know that."

"You tell me everyday, so of course I remember, silly." Jester giggled as she kicked a small pebble along the path.

"You better keep that in mind. You're eight years old now. Time to start growing up."

"But I don't want to."

"We all have to grow up at some point." Kurja crossed her arms firmly. "I did. So you must as well."

Jester tugged on one of her horns with a pout, dragging her tail along the ground. "Growing up is no fun."

"Says you." Kurja said. "You can't stop yourself from growing up. Soon, after you fight in the arena, you'll be eligible to enter the army."

Jester quirked up a brow, then turned her head to the far side of the village, where the stone arena was located. It was large and oval shaped, but Jester had never seen the inside. In a few days, when the arena would start up like it did every year like clockwork, Kurja was going to fight. It was what every young Demon had to do to prove themselves not only to the other Demons and their parents, but to the Demon Queen, who would decide if they were worthy of entering the army or not. Kurja was very confident that she would make it in. She had been training her whole life, after all.

But the thought of her sister leaving her and their parents to go fight and possibly die scared Jester. While she wanted to enter the ring herself, she wasn't sure how she felt about Kurja entering. But she kept this to herself. While Kurja was confident, she was also just as nervous, and Jester knew this. She didn't want to make her sister feel worse.

"Do you think you'll make it into the army?" Jester asked, picking up a small rock and tossing it.

Kurja smirked, crossing her arms. "Of course I will. Those damn Elves deserve to get their asses kicked. I still can't believe our Queen actually signed that Peace Treaty."

"Mother says it was because she had no choice. Something about taking over our land...I think." Jester stuck her index finger into her mouth, sucking idly. "I don't remember, I wasn't paying attention."

Kurja rolled her eyes. "You never do."

Jester shrugged.

The two of them walked the rest of the way in silence.

When they reached their house, Kurja opened the door and pushed Jester inside, and they both took their shoes off and put them away on the old shoe rack that had seen better days. Inside, the house was quite quaint and scarcely decorated. It consisted of the living room, a small dining room with a table barely big enough to fit the family, and a kitchen. Upstairs was the bedrooms, which included Jester and Kurja's rooms. Down the hallway from the kitchen was their parent's room, and a small door that led outside to the backyard, where their mother grew her vegetables and kept the chicken pen.

Their father, Kaleb, was a carpenter, and he had been working hard on a chair for a local Demon family. He had served his time in the army and had since retired, not due to age since Demons were immortal once they hit the age of 20, but because he had other visions of what he wanted to do, and fighting wasn't one of them. He was an excellent carpenter, and shared his expertise with the rest of the village by making whatever they requested for a minimal fee. His chair was in the corner, unfinished, and waiting to be glazed.

The mother, Dahlia, was a stay-at-home parent. She cooked, cleaned, gardened, and looked after Jester and Kurja while their father was away. She was a professional at making bread and pies, and even had a recipe book she had been working on. While she didn't show her skills off to many people, everyone in the village knew that if they wanted a delicious pastry or some freshly baked bread, all they had to do was knock on her door.

Kurja stomped into the kitchen and whirled to face their mother, who sat writing something in a notebook. Her thin red hair was held in a messy bun, and her eyes held large bags underneath them. She looked up at her children when they entered the room, setting her pen down gently.

"Mother, tell Jester to stop running from me when I take her for walks. I'll leave her next time, I promise." Kurja demanded, pointing a finger at her sister.

Dahlia sighed and scooted her chair back, resting her hands in her lap. “Jester, I thought I told you last night not to wander from your sister.”

"I'm sorry, Mother." Jester mumbled, staring at her feet.

"Don't apologize to me," Dahlia said. "Apologize to your sister."

"I'm sorry, Kurja." Jester mumbled, refusing to make eye contact. She hated getting in trouble, because she enjoyed being the favorite child. Despite all the times that both her parents had told her that they had no favorite and loved each daughter equally, she still viewed herself as the favorite because in her head, she was cuter.

Kurja huffed and crossed her arms, turning her head away. “It’s…fine. Just don’t do it again.”

Jester beamed and bounded over to her mother, climbing into her lap. “Mommy, can we go out to eat tonight? I promise I’ll behave!”

Dahlia chuckled and stroked Jester's hair. "I'm sure. You know how your father is when he comes home from work. He doesn’t like waiting for a hot meal."

"But Mommy, it’ll be super fun!” Jester pleaded, batting her eyes.

“Jester, do not be annoying to mother.” Kurja said, placing her hands on her hips.

Jester pouted and rested her head on her mother's chest. "Sorry."

Dahlia smiled and booped Jester's nose. "It's alright, sweetie. I know you are just excited. Everyone gets that way sometimes.”

“But why is she different from everybody else? No other child in the village is as inattentive and easily distracted as her. She may not even make it into the army.” Kurja sat down at the table across from her mother with a heavy sigh. “And in a few months, I’ll be out of the house and won’t be here to watch her.”

Dahlia placed her hand on Kurja's, rubbing gently. "Sweetie, you shouldn't worry so much about your sister. She is not as bad as you make her out to be. She is only a child, you must keep this in mind.”

Kurja sighed. “Whatever you say, mother.”

Jester let out a quiet breath, chewing absently on the inside of her lip. "Mother, I'll make it into the army, right? I'll be super strong and stuff?"

Dahlia looked down into the powerful innocence of her daughters eyes and smiled tightly. "Of course, my dear. Of course."

***

The muffled shouts of Dahlia and Kaleb echoed throughout the house. Every syllable was heard as if it was shouted through a megaphone. From where she lay in her bed, nestled under the white sheets, Jester could make out the movement of their shadows from under her door.

"She's a lost cause, Dahlia!" Kaleb shouted, and Jester heard his feeble attempt to remain at least a little quiet. "She runs away, she doesn't pay attention, she breaks things. The last thing she needs is to be thrown into an army of professionals."

"She is our daughter!" Dahlia shouted back, and her shadow moved, her arms waving through the air. Her voice was pressured and wavering, like she was on the verge of crying. "We can't just toss her aside! She will learn!"

"No, she won't!" Kaleb insisted, and Jester saw him stomp his foot. "She is just as bad as she was when she was born. I'm sick of it."

"I'm sick of you! You blame Jester for every bad decision you've made in your life! You can't do this to her. Throwing her out will get her killed or worse, don't you see that?"

"She won't survive a day in the army!" Kaleb roared, and there was a loud bang, like he had punched the wall. "She won't survive a day in Bellcrest, for fuck's sake!"

Jester's door creaked open slowly, and Kurja slipped inside, quietly shutting it behind her. She wore her regular pajamas, consisting of a simple silk nightgown and slippers. Her hair was neatly combed back, giving Jester the impression that she hadn't gotten much sleep either.

Kurja tiptoed over to Jester's bed and joined her under the covers, moving so she was facing her sister. "They're arguing about you again"

"Yeah," Jester mumbled, pulling the blankets up to her chin. "I heard."

Kurja sighed and rolled over, facing the ceiling. "I think Father is wrong. You're only eight, after all. He can't expect you to be some genius."

"Is he going to get rid of me?" Jester asked, poking her sister until she faced her again.

Kurja opened her mouth to answer, but the shouts from their parents rang louder now, silencing what she would have said.

"You are just as bad as she is, you know. You run away, you break things, and you don't pay attention. She gets it from you, you know! You can't blame this all on her!" Dahlia snapped. "Remember when you were in school? You always got in trouble. You always had to stay after school and serve detention. You quit the army, Kaleb! You quit!"

"I did not quit, Dahlia, I retired! I'm not army material and neither is Jester! Now, I make good money and we live in a nice home. We would have been living on the streets if I didn't! The army would have killed me."

"You don't know that. You ran away."

"And I'm glad I did. They wouldn't accept Jester anyways."

"That's not true."

"Yes, it is!"

The two girls jumped as they heard the sound of something getting knocked off the wall. Jester clutched her pillow, holding it close to her chest, her heart pounding in her ears. She hated arguments. It made her nervous and uneasy. Her ears pricked with every loud bang and clash, and for a second, it almost sounded like an army was in the house. Jester gave a small whimper and buried herself in her blankets.

For the past month now, Kaleb and Dahlia argued. Sometimes it was about small things, like bills and market prices and annoying customers. But most of the time, it was centered around Jester. Her father seemed to have a very low opinion about her, while her mother was the exact opposite. Kurja often played referee between them, trying to keep the peace, but even she was starting to lose faith in her abilities. Jester tried to believe that her Father wouldn't actually abandon her, but as the fight drew on, she was uncertain, and that made her scared. In school, she always played the role of "brave Demon" because she'd pretend that nothing scared her. But in reality, her biggest fear was that her family would get rid of her, and she would be left all alone.

She had asked Kurja multiple times what would happen if they were to get rid of her, but she had always refused to answer. Jester often thought it was because Kurja didn't know. But now she wasn't so sure. She always avoided the question, and now Jester believed it made her uncomfortable, much like it did for Jester herself.

The room suddenly fell silent, and for a minute, the two girls lay still, staring at each other with wide eyes. Then, they heard their parents move, their voices becoming hushed. They could hear them moving through the house, back to their room, and their door closed quietly behind them. The two sisters stayed where they were until the silence became unbearable, and Jester sat up, letting the blanket fall to her lap.

"What did Father mean by saying I'd get killed in the army?"

Kurja sat up as well, brushing her hair over her shoulder. "I believe he meant that you would get distracted and...well..."

"Get killed?"

"Probably." Kurja admitted. "But that's only because you would be fighting Elves. You would be too busy staring at their pretty faces to pay attention to them stabbing you. Elves are masters at beauty, after all."

Jester looked down at her hands. "Then I'll just look away. I don't want to be killed."

Kurja laughed. "Yeah, that's a good idea. Just look away from them. But if you did that, how would you know where to aim for the kill strike?"

Jester tapped her chin, deep in thought. "I would...um...oh! I would throw dirt in their eyes to get them all stumbly and stuff, then I would pounce!"

"Pounce?"

"Yeah, like this!" Jester leapt forward and tackled Kurja, knocking them both back into the bed.

"Ow," Kurja mumbled, pushing her sister off with a laugh. "It did hurt, so I guess it's not that bad of a strategy. But you must think hard, Jester. Why can't you focus like all the other kids?"

Jester huffed and jumped off the bed, shuffling around the room. "I don't know. I just...everything distracts me. Birds, butterflies, everything! It's stupid!" She gave her dresser a hard kick, driving a sizable dent in the polished wood. The bang reverberated throughout the house, the both girls froze like deer.

"Jester, knock that off! You'll get us in trouble if they find out we're awake at this hour!" Kurja hissed, motioning for her sister to climb back into bed.

Jester huffed and hopped into bed, crossing her arms. "I hate Father. He's mean and he doesn't like me."

"He likes you." Kurja assured her, patting her head. "Mother says that he's just being overly protective."

"Then why would he want to throw me out? That's mean!" Jester grumbled.

Kurja sighed and rolled over on her side, facing away from her sister. "Go to sleep, Jester. Perhaps tomorrow will be a better day"

Jester pouted and stuck her tongue out at Kurja, then did the same and faced away from her. "This is my bed, Kurja, so I get the blankets."

"Oh? Then you wouldn't mind if I left you here alone and went back to my own room, now?"

Jester yelped and rolled over, clinging onto her sister's waist. "No! Please don't leave me!"

Kurja smiled. "Thought so."

They lay still in the dark, listening to each other breathing and the chirping of the birds outside as they slowly fell asleep.

***

The next morning, Kurja got Jester ready for school. Jester had refused to even attempt to dress herself with help, and Kurja couldn't stand listening to her crying all morning, so she caved and helped her out. Jester had made it very clear that she wanted to look nice on this particular day, so Kurja had no choice but to comply. So, while Jester ate her breakfast, Kurja picked out a dress and matching shoes for her to wear and helped her dress. While Jester had a problem dressing herself, she did well when it came to eating.

Once they were both dressed, Kurja combed out her hair and did the same for Jester, giving her a small braid on the left side. Kurja was always known to put quite the effort into how she looked. She was beautiful regardless, but she insisted that makeup and beauty products made her look even better. This morning, she wore a simple blue dress with a white hem, and slim heels that clicked against the ground wherever she went. Jester, however, always said that she was young and didn't need the stench of lipstick and blush. She hated that stuff, and her mother agreed, saying that she didn't need to grow up so fast.

"You look wonderful, dear." Dahlia said as they passed her on the way to the door. She looked tired and mismatched, and both Kurja and Jester knew why. Neither said anything about what they heard last night for fear of starting another argument. But the exhausted and worried look on her face made Jester wonder just how late they stayed up yelling at each other about her welfare.

"Where is Father this morning, Mother. Off to work already, I assume?" Kurja asked, and Jester pinched her arm to silence her.

"I believe so." Dahlia rubbed her eyes, then sat down at the dining table. "He was already gone when I awoke this morning, and his work case was missing, so he must be at work."

"Oh," Kurja said, then looked down at Jester. "He didn't plan to wish us a good day at school like very morning?"

"I'm sorry, dear. He is very busy, you know. But I am sure he wishes you both a good day." Dahlia smiled and picked up her coffee mug, sipping quietly.

Jester scoffed, planning for it to be silent, but it was much louder than she had intended, and both her sister and mother stared at her with questioning eyes. She looked down at her shoes and kicked at the ground.

"Jester, is something wrong?" Dahlia asked, setting her mug down.

"No, Mother." Jester mumbled, then turned on her heels and opened the front door, slipping outside. "Bye!"

Kurja hurried to follow, grabbing hold of Jester's hand as they quickly made their way along the dirt path strewn with light from the sun above. Everyone had risen to begin the new day, as was evident by the crowds beginning to gather. The chatter of the many Demons around them filled their ears, and Jester stuck close to her sister, trying to block the noise out. Kids ran from the houses laughing loudly, mothers headed towards the market to plan the nights meal, and fathers went off to their jobs. So many conversations thrived at once, and the easily distracted Jester had a hard time maintaining her train of thought.

"That was rude of you." Kurja said as they walked along, and she squeezed her hand gently. "Mother has done nothing but look after you. Why are you so mad at her?"

"Because Father isn't here." Jester said, kicking a pebble along the ground. "And it's because of me."

"You cannot assume that it's because of you. He left early for work, that's all there is to it." Kurja said firmly.

"Then why did he leave without saying goodbye?"

"I'm sure he was just in a hurry to get to work. He's never done that before, so he must have had a good reason this time."

"Okay..." Jester said, deciding not to argue with her sister. Kurja was smart, so she trusted her. If she said that Father had a reason for leaving early, then he must have. Right?

They reached the school house, which was located near the center of the village. It was a large building, made of the same material as the homes, but the windows were made of a more expensive glass and the doors were made of fine oak. A tall flagpole stood outside the school, displaying the flag of Bellcrest, a deep red background with the first letter of the Demon language stamped on it in a darker red. The flag flapped lazily in the light breeze, and Kurja watched it for a moment before looking down at Jester.

"Alright, now you be good while you're in school." She said firmly. "Don't go running off. Just pay attention and learn what you can. I'll come back for you later, okay?"

"Okay," Jester nodded, hugging her sister tightly. "Please don't go fight in the arena without me. I wanna watch you win."

Kurja smiled and bent down, giving her sister a pat on the head. "Silly. I won't be fighting for a few more days. They select the matches based on age. Today. I’ll just be training like the other Demons my age.”

"Will you beat them up?" Jester asked with a playful look in her eyes.

Kurja smiled. "I sure hope so, now you get on to class. I don't want to hear about you getting in trouble again, understand?"

"Yes ma'am," Jester said, saluting her sister, then darted up the steps and into the school.

The inside of the school was very simple. The main entrance led into a large lobby, which split off into two separate hallways. One went right, and the other went left, both leading to the classrooms. Inside was the same drab grey color as the outside, since Demons didn't have easy access to fancy colors and building materials like the Elves did. The floors were the same polished wood as the door, and the walls were lined with old portraits of the past Demon Kings and Queens, all in black and white, making it impossible to tell their hair colors or eye colors and so on. Some of the portraits were of past leaders that the Demons had taken down and slaughtered, and while no one spoke of this, everyone knew.

The school was divided into sections, depending on the race of the Demons. Demi-Demons attended regular standards-based classes, while young Deity and Havoc Demons attended the more rigorous and advanced classes. It wasn't exactly favoritism, but it was selective teaching at its finest.

The classrooms were very small, with only enough room for one teacher, 15 students, and several desks. A chalkboard hung on the farthest wall, stains from recent lessons permanently drawn on the black surface. No windows or vents were in the rooms, and the heat was often stifling, especially in the summer. The teacher, an elderly Deity Demon with wrinkled skin and deep red eyes, sat at the front desk, looking over a book. Jester didn't like her very much. She was bossy and strict, unlike the more lenient teachers who allowed children to actually laugh and enjoy their free time. In this particular classroom, free time was a foreign subject.

Jester's desk was right next to the door, and while she usually took pride in having the closest desk to the exit, she often got scolded for "attempting to sneak away and play" and "distracting her classmates with her rambunctious behavior". But Jester didn't care what her teacher thought, or any of the students for that matter. She just liked to have fun. What was so wrong with that?

Jester was the first student to arrive that day, and the teacher didn't even notice her walk in. Her old, saggy face was deeply engrossed in whatever book she was reading. Jester huffed and set down her bag, wiping small flecks of dust off the top of her desk. She could hear laughter coming from the hallway, which meant that other students were arriving. She smiled and happily sat down in her desk. She disliked being the only one in the classroom. It reminded her of detention, and she did not like being reminded of detention.

The first student to enter the room was a tall, skinny Demi-Demon boy named Garrick. He had red eyes, a round, pudgy face, and curly black hair that hung to his shoulders. His walk was heavy and slow, and remnants of what he had for breakfast still clung to his lips and chin. Jester watching him take his seat on the far side of the room and finally released the breath she had been holding. Garrick wasn't exactly known for his excellent hygiene. Garrick and Jester shared a few conversations over the years, but she didn't see him as a friend, more of a talk-buddy when school got boring. Needless to say, the two have indulged in hundreds of meaningless conversations since school had started.

Another boy walked into the room, followed by several other students. Soon, the room was filled with chatter and conversations and chairs scraping along the old wooden floor. The teacher, who went by the name of Mrs. Tavish, finally put her book down and stood up, walking to the front of the room. She was tall, skinny, and always looked angry. Her eyes scanned the room until everyone found their seats, then she cleared her throat.

"Good morning, class. I hope you all did the homework I assigned you?" Mrs. Tavish's old croaking voice rang, making some students wince.

Jester let out a sign of relief as she reached into her bag. The perks of having a smarter older sister was being able to get help on homework. She set the finished piece of paper on her desk along with the other students, forcing her wandering eyes to remain glued to Mrs. Tavish. It was hard to focus on school when so many things demanded her attention. Today, it was a fly buzzing around the room.

"Good. Now, I want you to get into groups and read your favorite part of the history book we are currently studying, then give a quick speech about why it is your favorite and what you have learned from it for the class." Mrs. Tavish instructed, sitting down at her desk.

Immediately, hands went up into the air, and Jester sunk further into her seat as the class erupted in a storm of voices. Of course, there was always something she would forget. Remembering the homework was a miracle in itself, but remembering to do the required reading was another story. She stared down at the history book sitting in her bag, trying to remember what she was supposed to have read. The first chapter? No, maybe the second? The third?

Panic started to set in, but right as she was about to attempt a speed-read, the fly she had spotted buzzing around the room landed perfectly on her desk. It's eyes were a brilliant blue, and its small body glistened as if it had just gotten out of the water. The delicate wings fluttered, and the fly let out a little squeak as it inspected Jester's hand. She started at it as if she had never seen anything like it.

A tap to her shoulder made her jump, scaring the fly away. As usual, Garrick wanted to partner up, since no one would volunteer to be his partner for any assignment. He smiled down at her, his uneven teeth stained yellow from lack of proper care. "Did ya read the chapter last night, Jes?"

"Don't call me Jes," Jester said, trying to sound firm like her sister, but her naturally high-pitched voice prevented its full effect. "And...well, did you read the chapter last night? I totally did, I'm just...making sure that you did."

"I sure did." Garrick squeezed himself into Jester's seat, slapping his book onto the table. "Hey, did ya hear about the arena? My brother is gonna fight an' win the whole thing."

Jester scoffed. "You mean your brother is going to die?"

"Nah, he's gonna win." Garrick said, flicking through his book. "My brother is pretty strong."

"No, he's not. My sister is super strong. She'll defeat everybody." Jester said proudly. "And she'll bring back all the loot and stuff."

Garrick rolled his eyes. "My brother is bigger than your sister. He could totally beat her."

"Yeah? My mother says size doesn't matter." Jester said matter-of-factly.

Garrick seemed to lose interest in the argument, because his gaze wandered from Jester to the book, then to Jester again. "What was your favorite part of the book?"

Jester blinked, then gave a feeble shrug. "Um...I liked...all of it. Lots of fancy words and...commas and stuff. Really good read."

Garrick smiled wide. "Hey, we have the same answer! Cool!"

Jester huffed and slouched down further, crossing her arms. She dreaded school, primarily because she had to sit still for longer periods than time than she was equipped to handle. At home, she could run around and climb things and scream at the top of her lungs, but at school, she had to be quiet and behave like everyone else. It was incredibly boring. At least she had Garrick to talk to, even if he was annoying and smelled bad and always had crumbs on his face. He wasn't the best company, but she supposed he was company nonetheless.

When I grow up, I'll make school better, Jester thought as she watched the fly wander around the classroom. Way better.