The Foundations of Stratum

A lively murmur of voices drifted from inside the large house at the edge of the Upper District as Singe stopped before its ornate front door.

The remaining duffel bag slipped from her shoulder and hit the ground with a dull thud.

For a moment, she simply stood there, staring at the pale wood.

Slowly, she raised one hand in front of her face.

A faint green glow crept across her fingertips, forming a shimmering surface that reflected her face back at her.

Red-rimmed eyes. Dark circles. Dried tear tracks on her cheeks.

Singe grimaced and hurriedly rubbed her face with the back of her hand.

I can’t go in there looking like this, damn it.

She lowered her hand, and the magical mirror dissolved into green sparks.

Maybe coming here was a mistake...

Maybe I should just go back to the orphanage. Some of the caretakers still know me there.

A burst of laughter erupted from behind the door.

Or perhaps I could just return to the Grapevine. Wouldn’t be the first time.

Singe hoisted the duffel bag onto her shoulder again and turned.

Yeah. I think that’d be better...

Just as she was about to leave, the sounds behind the door drew closer.

The door swung open.

“...Doesn’t bother me at all. You’ll have plenty of time to take out the trash on your own once I’m back on the Grape...”

Tong cut herself off mid-sentence when she spotted Singe.

The dark garbage bags in her hands slipped to the ground.

“There you are at last!” she blurted out, sounding equal parts relieved and reproachful. “We were starting to think you weren’t coming.”

She marched over and grabbed Singe by the wrist.

“Dinner’s almost ready, so come on, before...”

She stopped.

Only now did she take a closer look at Singe’s face, and her expression changed instantly.

“Are you okay?” Her voice softened. “Did something happen at...”

Before she could say it, Singe plastered on a broad grin.

“What? No, not at all.” She pulled her wrist free and waved dismissively. “Everything’s fine. I just went for a bit of a walk, that’s all.”

She brushed past Tong and let her gaze wander over the house.

The large roof. The bright windows. The carved wooden beams.

“Man,” she said, a little too loudly, “sometimes I forget how rich your family actually is.”

Tong didn’t answer right away.

She simply studied her for a moment.

Eventually, she bent down, picked up the garbage bags, and sighed.

“My family isn’t that rich.” A faint smile crossed her face. “At least not rich enough to buy my way out of military service like those Coven-Kids...”

She nodded toward the open door.

“Go on inside. I’ll be right behind you.”

Then she disappeared around a corner, her voice fading into the night.

“The others will be happy to see you.”

Singe watched her go for a moment, and her grin slipped away.

She looked toward the open doorway.

Voices, footsteps, laughter, and the smell of roasted meat and sweet Chu-Rai drifted out from within.

She took a deep breath.

Slowly, she forced the corners of her mouth upward again.

Here we go...

Then she stepped into the brightly lit entrance hall.

“Hey, everyone! Heard you missed me?”

***

Hours later, the table had long been cleared away.

Only carafes, delicate crystal glasses, and small sweets remained.

“...and then those damn crawler parts just started raining out of the sky. In pieces! Everywhere!”

Singe’s eyes sparkled as she recounted the events in vivid detail between mouthfuls of food.

Especially whenever she talked about Hermann.

She sat between Tong and a little girl who, despite barely being able to see over the table, hung on every word.

Singe took a long drink of Chu-Rai from her glass, set it down, and leaned across the table again, a faint blush on her nose.

“But that's not even the best part. Hermann said there are a lot more weapons like that. Bigger ones. Stronger ones. We just have to make them, and then we could...”

“For heaven's sake, Singe!” Tong shot upright. “Did the part about ‘top military secrecy’ and ‘violations will be severely punished’ go completely over your head?”

She leaned forward.

“At this rate, you're going to get us all sent to the mines.”

The little girl beside Singe looked up curiously.

“What are the mines, Mom?”

A middle-aged woman with round glasses sitting beside her quickly placed a hand on her head.

“Nothing children need to think about during dinner, Madin.”

“But...”

“Eat your jelly.”

Madin looked sadly down at the small greenish dessert, wobbling slightly under a poke of her spoon.

Meanwhile Singe crossed her arms.

“But people deserve to know what we’ve discovered! The commander can insist on secrecy all she wants, this won’t stop me.”

Several adults glanced at one another.

“If you’re telling the truth,“ the woman with the glasses began slowly, “it would indeed be difficult to justify keeping this a secret from the people.”

“Aunt Rinba!” Tong exclaimed in disbelief. “Don’t encourage her! Besides...” She leaned back in her chair. “...I don't think the commander intends to keep this secret forever. Why would she?”

“Because it turns the foundations of our society upside down.”

The voice came from the head of the table.

She sat upright with her hands folded before her plate, golden eyes calmly fixed on Singe.

Her grayish-brown hair was tied into a tight bun, and a stretch of scarred tissue ran from her cheek down her neck.

“What do you mean, Mom?” Tong asked.

But her mother didn’t answer immediately.

She poured herself some Chu-Rai, studied the dark liquid in her glass for a moment, then set the carafe aside.

“Singe,” she finally said. “You want these weapons to be produced immediately and on a large scale, don’t you?”

Singe blinked.

“Y-yes. Of course.”

“But do you even understand what that would actually mean?”

The question lingered in the air.

“It would mean we could finally defeat the Manylegs,“ she answered in irritation. “It would mean people wouldn’t have to keep dying!”

Tong’s mother nodded slowly.

“Perhaps. But what then? What would it do to Stratum and its people if weapons suddenly existed that surpassed even magic?”

The question caught Singe completely off guard.

“Well... um...”

“Stratum is a matriarchy,” she continued without waiting for an answer. “Women make up nearly ninety percent of our population, and for good reason. It is us women who risk their lives day after day to ensure humanity’s survival.”

Thoughtfully, she swirled the drink in her glass.

“As for men... we need relatively few of them to sustain the population. Over generations, that reality has produced a society in which women occupy nearly every position of importance. Men serve almost no purpose.”

She took a long drink.

“Except, perhaps, to provide us with a little... entertainment.”

“Auntie!” hissed a young woman a few years younger than Tong, covering Madin’s ears.

“Oh, don't be so dramatic, niece Cana. Your little sister is old enough to know what men like her cousin Myko spend all day doing...”

“Where exactly are you going with this, Sister?” Rinba asked at last, pushing her glasses higher up her nose.

Tong’s mother sighed.

“My point is... these weapons create a kind of warfare that doesn’t depend on magical talent anymore. The moment that happens, people will begin asking whether men should fight as well. And once men become soldiers, they won’t remain politically irrelevant for long...”

Her golden eyes settled on Singe once more.

“A great many people will not accept that quietly.”

Her words hung in the air like lead, and for a moment the only response was a series of thoughtful looks.

Singe sank back into her chair.

Are there really people who care more about their power and status than our lives?

She jumped to her feet and fixed Tong’s mother with a blazing stare.

“Yeah, maybe it changes Stratum! Maybe it turns everything upside down! Maybe people in the Upper District get scared because men can suddenly do more than look pretty and make children!”

Her breath trembled.

“But if it means nobody ever has to stand at someone’s front door with a second duffel bag on their shoulder and explain why their daughter isn’t coming home...”

Her voice broke.

“Then I don’t care what changes!”

Her desperate outburst echoed through the dining hall.

Tong’s mother regarded her for a moment with an expression that was almost approving.

She had just opened her mouth to reply when...

“Well, this place feels like a graveyard.”

Every head turned.

“Brother,” Tong remarked dryly.

The young man stood casually in the doorway, hands tucked into the pockets of an emerald-green coat embroidered with gold thread.

Beneath it gleamed an ivory brocade waistcoat woven with delicate silver patterns.

His slightly tousled honey-blond hair fell across his forehead in unruly strands, while his amber eyes swept alertly around the room.

Eventually, they settled on the soldier with the long black hair and the tired, emerald eyes.

The confident, easygoing expression on his face softened at once.

“Singe...” he said quietly.

By then, little Madin had already leapt up and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Cousin Myko! You’re finally here!”

Smiling, he ruffled her hair without taking his eyes off Singe.

But Singe held his gaze only for a moment.

She sat back down and pointedly resumed eating her jelly, refusing to give him any further attention.

Great. Just what I needed...