The Child of the Sea

The girl’s concerned expression instantly turned into a pout.

“MNAAAA, I’M NOT A LOST LITTLE GIRL!!!” she shrieked, her voice a perfect match to the sword’s high pitch telepathic wail.

It was Maren. She had turned human. Or, at least, human-shaped.

“I AM ARS MAREN, THE SWORD OF THE—!” she declared, puffing out her chest, before immediately lunging forward and trying to yank off Anna’s mask with her tiny hands. “MNNAAAA! Take this off! I want to see your face when you’re surprised!”

“Yeah, yeah, stop it!” Anna yelped, batting the little hands away. “Don’t take off my mask!”

She stared at the tiny, pouting figure before her. A girl, little one. Her legendary, thirty-two-million-mana holy weapon had the physical form of a grade-schooler. Anna had expected something more… grand.

A final, weary thought drifted through her mind. No wonder she whines like a child all the time.

“KYAAA! I can still hear you! Take that back!”

Anna batted away the small, surprisingly strong hands trying to pry at the edges of her mask. “I said, stop it! The mask stays on.”

“But you’re not surprised enough!” Maren whined, her voice now coming from a pouting mouth instead of Anna’s mind.

She gave up on the mask and became utterly fascinated by the hands she had just been using. She held them up in front of her face, wiggling each finger individually. “Anna, look! They bend! I have… bendy parts again!”

Anna's entire body ached as she dragged herself to walk. She looked at the small figure in front of her, who was now making happy little noises as she stomped her bare feet in the grass. 

“Ooh, the ground is so… squishy! And pokey!”

“A legendary holy sword,” Anna muttered under her breath, her voice dripping with exhaustion and disbelief, “and it’s a child. Isn't this what they called loli?”

Maren’s head snapped up, her blue eyes wide with indignation. “MNAAA! I heard that!” she shrieked. “What is a ‘loli’?! Is it a term for something incredibly powerful and dignified?! It sounds small! I am not small! I am… strategically compact! For aerodynamic efficiency in combat! Look at this... Imperial... MIRAGE!” She punctuated her sentence by trying to strike a pose made by Obsidian Halo from Suzuha's memory, wobbling precariously on her inexperienced legs.

Anna just stared, “I wonder where you learnt that pose from...” she thought.

“So what now?!” Maren asked, her indignation forgotten as a new thought took over. “Do we fight more bad guys?! I can punch them now! Look!” She threw a clumsy punch at the air, lost her balance completely, and tumbled backward into a pile of corrupted leaves.

Anna didn’t move to help her. She just watched as Maren sat up, covered in dirt and leaves, and grinned. “Okay, punching needs practice! But I can kick!”

“No,” Anna said, the single word cutting through Maren’s boundless energy. “No more fighting. No punching. No kicking.” She started walking back towards the barracks, her steps heavy. “Now, we go back. And you are walking. Quietly. I don’t want to risk my life again doing something stupid.”

“But my feet are getting all dirty!” Maren whined, scrambling to her feet and hurrying to catch up.

“Then you should have thought of that before you decided to get legs,”

“Mnnaaa! You’re so mean! I didn’t decide! It just happened! And it’s your fault anyway!” Maren huffed, stomping along beside her. “I only got this ‘strategically compact’ body because you are my master! So, you’re responsible for my feet!”

Anna stopped and looked down at the pouting, dirt-covered, legendary weapon of the sea.

“Then just turn back to your normal sword form...”

“Noooo!!”

The walk back was a strange mix of triumph and exhaustion. Maren, in her tiny human form, complained about every single root, pebble, and stray leaf she had to step over.

“Mnnaa! My feet are tired!” she whined for the tenth time. “And there are so many pokey things everywhere! Being a human is all pointy!”

“Usually humans used what we call shoes. Have you heard of such technologies?” Anna said without sympathy. “And isn’t it You the one who wanted legs?!”

“Well, I’m tired of them now!” Maren declared. With a soft pop and a flash of blue light, the little girl vanished, replaced by the familiar, elegant form of the holy sword. She immediately zipped up to Anna’s side, snuggling against her coat.

“Anna!! Hug me!” the sword demanded, her voice now back in Anna’s mind.

Anna let out a sigh, but her arms still went around the sword’s hilt, holding it close. “Fine.”

“So, you actually can just turn back whenever you want?” she asked, “How convenient.”

“Of course!” Maren replied proudly. “It’s my true form! Being human is exhausting! So many… limbs to keep track of.”

“You had them for all of ten minutes.”

“The most exhausting ten minutes of my entire existence!” Maren insisted. “Now hug me properly! I did a good job!”

“Yes... you did great...”

After a moment of this lighthearted bickering, Maren’s tone grew more serious. “Anna… what about him? The other one. Demidicus.”

Anna’s expression hardened slightly as she walked. “Just forget about him, for now.”

“Forget him?! He almost killed you!”

“Exactly,” Anna countered, “He almost killed me.”

They arrived at the barracks' edge. 

In the deep shadows of the outside wall, Anna stopped and reached up to pull her mask off and put it in her hood. Deliberately avoiding the loose stone where she had concealed Pietta's communicator, she began to make her way to the gate.

“Anna!” Maren’s voice was a panicked whisper in her head. “The stone! You’re forgetting it!”

“No, I’m leaving it,” Anna sent back, not breaking her stride. “People here are already suspicious of me, especially Olomyar and Baltram. If his men decide to search my room and find a strange, dark magic artifact, it confirms all his worst fears. It’s safer there for now.”

“Oh…” Maren said, her confusion giving way to awe at Anna’s foresight. “Ok.”