A Birth Unheard Of

“The summer solstice is unequivocally a time of celebration for the Chiefdom. Whether it means a wedding, a festival, or something else entirely, almost every citizen in the country awaits this day with excitement.”

—Robin Benz

While Roo makes his way toward a towering shelf of shoes snug in the back corner of the shop, I continue to try on the other things. I wear a robe that looks way too warm for the current weather, a revealing tunic that makes me burn with embarrassment, and a skirt (a skirt!) that swishes against my knees. Of course, I instantly move to kick it off. Mirei would make fun of me for hours. Before I can do so, however, shoes rain down on my head.

“Ow!” I hiss. Irritation burns my blood, hot enough to make me yank open the door to my dressing room. “Roo, stop throwing stuff over the door! God, one of them had heels!”

Roo’s familiar reply doesn’t come immediately, though. Instead, I’m met with widened eyes, not focused on my face, but on my waist.

Oh, I think despairingly. The skirt.

“Do. Not. Say. Anything.” I grit out behind my teeth.

“That skirt suits you. Really, it does,” He mutters quietly with a subtle smile.

“I don’t care. I’m going with the first outfit I wore.” I slam the door shut behind me.

Roo’s subtle cough is muffled, but I hear it nonetheless. What a piece of work, he is. Just as I grab a pair of boots, he says through the door, “You did say you’d wear anything I brought you, Haruki.”

I groan loudly.

* * *

We trod out of the shop, adorned in fresh clothes and an air of satisfaction. I had surreptitiously glanced around before going out the door, looking for a pair of gloves. I wasn’t successful though, so now I stand before that claustrophobic main road. My hesitance must show on my face, for Roo jerks his head to the side, telling us, “Let’s stay by the shops as we walk. Less people.”

Inwardly, I sigh in relief as we start the trek up the steep incline.

Before long, Roo’s steps slow and cease altogether in front of a small, wooden building. This building is not like the others, though; its planks are a reddish tint and speckled with initials by the arched entrance. I haven’t seen anything so personal on our entire walk of the village, so I lean closer.

“What is this place?”

“Arenah’s workshop. She is the Master Craftswoman of Chekagi, and one of the most skilled in the entire country of Lade.”

Mirei punches her fist into the air. “We finally made it! Does she sell food?”

Roo raises his eyebrows before pushing open the door. “I said it's a workshop. No food, just her inventions and products.”

Mirei sulks behind Roo. We follow him inside and a blast of the smell of wood hits my nose like a punch. It’s incredibly overpowering, but not to the point where I would be so impolite as to cover my nose. Mirei doesn’t have a good grasp on manners, though, and plugs her nose, grimacing.

“It smells so strongly…” She wines.

I nudge her foot with my boot. “Don’t plug your nose like that, it’s rude. Just breathe with your mouth.”

Mirei shakily drops her hand, revealing a face contorted so deeply that it shocks me to my core. I never knew my little sister could make such an ugly, vaguely unsettling expression.

I mutter, “You know what, plug your nose after all.”

Mirei’s hand shoots back up to her nose.

As Roo leads us between shelves full with wooden toys and tables displaying extremely complex and intricate machines, I find myself subconsciously searching for a woman. Anywhere from corks to ticking mini-clocks to furniture fill the shop, full of wondrous and innovative ideas. Roo was really emphatic about getting us to see her back at the lake, even if it was just to talk about air conditioning. Now that I’m seeing all the things she builds, I find myself admiring her. This is without a doubt the work of a master wood-worker.

Eventually we happen upon a counter cluttered with bolts, wood scraps, coins, and other things I’ve never seen before in my life. Roo kicks the counter once before announcing, “Arenah, get out, I brought some people from another world!”

I gasp. “Roo, what the— why would you just say that?!”

Roo’s eyes flickered with mirth. “Don’t worry, no one else is here but us and her.”

“That doesn’t answer my question!”

Roo fully faces me. “It’s okay. She won’t tell—“

“ROO BROUGHT OTHER-WORLDERS!? MY LIFE IS COMPLETE!” A shrill voice shakes the entire building with the force of an earthquake. I slam my hands over my ears. Booming vibrations of stomping get more and more violent until a tall figure emerges from the floor behind the counter. My stomach drops. This woman ripples with muscles, shines with sweat, and whips a bush of blonde curls over her shoulder. Her grin is blinding.

“Yes, your dream has come true. Now be quiet,” Roo drawls. His emotionless tone does nothing to douse Arenah’s enthusiasm. She leans her whole frame over the counter, face stopping mere inches from mine. Mirei yelps.

“Wow, it really is a pair of foreigners… I can’t believe it!” Suddenly, tears pool in her violet eyes. Her voice shakes as she screams, “Roo, maybe it was worth knowing you after all. All the crap you’ve put me through, especially that one time you shaved my head while I slept…”

I do a double-take. Roo did what?!

“Now, now, Arenah, don’t tell them that stuff. Just get back and listen to this—” Now it’s Roo’s turn to lean inward. He knocks me to the side and stares into Arenah’s eyes, a mere sliver of air separating them. “—they know how to make devices that automatically blow cold air!”

Arenah is silent. She leans back, returning to her former standing position. She crosses a pair of thick arms, expression unreadable. “You said they can blow cold air with machinery?”

“Yes.”

“Um—“

“SILENCE, BOY!” Arenah roars. My mouth clamps shut. She narrows her eyes at Roo. “Are you playing with me? If so, today will be your last.”

“No. I’m serious.” Roo has never looked more serious.

I never said we knew how to make anything! I scream internally. They start gushing about the possibilities, the paradise that stands right before them. It’s Mirei who cuts them off.

“We don’t know how to make air-conditioners, you guys. Sorry to break it to you,” She shrugs her shoulders, then skips away toward the shelf of toys. I slap a hand over my face. Leave it to Mirei to say anything without fear.

Arenah glowers at Roo. I can almost see the fire in her menacing aura. “Today, Roo Benz will die a gruesome death.”

Roo throws his hands up into the air. “I never lied to you!”

“You did!”

This back and forth continues for several minutes, sometimes so loud that the lights above flicker. Before long, Roo marches out of the workshop, completely incensed. I peer at Arenah. She scoffs and leaps over the counter, right in front of me. The floorboards groan under all seven feet of her. I almost can't see her face behind her hair.

“Just forget about that kid. He needs to learn how to respect those older than him.”

This piques my interest. “‘Kid?’ How old is Roo?”

Arenah looks down at me, eyebrow raised. “Well he looks about as young as you.”

“So eighteen years old?”

Arenah cocks her head to the side. “What the heck are ‘years?’ Wow, you really are not of this world!”

I scratch my scalp, unsure how to best explain it. I end up saying, “One year is equal to three-hundred-fifty-six days in my world. A person’s age is based on the number of years they’ve lived.”

Arenah hums, low voice rumbling. “In that case…” Her eyes dart this way and that, as if she’s doing several equations in her head at great speed. “…Roo would indeed be about nineteen years old. So, similar to you.”

I nod. This information doesn’t shock me. But then, what Arenah says rocks my whole perception of Roo.

“Although, he’s at the age where he must marry. You’re still one year away from that, kiddo.”

Something clanks to the floor at the other end of the workshop. It’s Mirei, who dropped a toy Xilio. “Roo has to marry someone this year?!” She exclaims.

Arenah nods her head solemnly. “Yes. In this world, once someone becomes nineteen years of age, they are considered at the precipice of adulthood. Once they reach twenty, they are full-fledged. However, for Roo, he is the Chief’s son.” I freeze momentarily. How does she know that? “It’s a long-held tradition for the future chief to marry a worthy person on the summer solstice. For him, he has nine full moons yet.”

Nine, I think. The fabric inside my pockets is balled in my hands. I never realized Roo had such a responsibility weighing over him. I feel a little bad for troubling him thus far. He should be spending time with the one he plans to marry, not with us stragglers.

“Is Roo… excited?”

Arenah sighs. She motions towards the furniture corner of the shop. I sit on a stool, and she flips into a loveseat with teal cushions. “It will surely be the worst day of his life.”

My brow furrows. “How so?”

Arenah props her elbow up on the armrest and slots her chin on her knuckles, staring at nothing in particular. “I have known Roo since his first array trip. Back then, he was such a bubbly kid, totally unaware of the chaos his birth created.”

Arenah casts a searching glance my way, as if looking for something. I tilt my head to the side, wanting her to continue, but afraid to make her irritated by asking. After giving up her search, her eyes shutter closed.

“Roo was born with only a wisp of magic— completely unexpected from a Chief’s child, and a son at that.”

My eyes widen. Roo, who navigates arrays with aloof confidence, who easily identified the mess of magic inside Mirei and I, who nearly tore us to shreds that night— was born with almost nothing? I can hardly believe it. I search Arenah’s face for the lie, but I don’t find it. It seems it’s really true.

Wonder creeps up my spine like an unwanted spider.

“To avoid the country’s anger with this, Chief Pons sought to hide Roo’s identity. This way, no one would know that the weak kid they walked past on the street was actually the future leader of their country. All that the world knew was that this son was training in seclusion.

“Before long, though, Roo’s limited trips out into the other trees grew in number. He couldn’t resist escaping the dreary life he had cooped up in Forre Tree. I still remember the first time he snuck out, me yelling at him to get back to his room. He nearly failed that array trip with the way he was flailing and tossing his magic everywhere but the array.”

Arenah releases a soft chuckle. This is incredibly unexpected. Roo made fun of Mirei and I for having weak magic. For him to mock the same kind of person he used to be…

“Anyway, I digress. The point is, Roo loves his freedom. When he is out here, where hardly a soul recognizes him, he can be himself. He is not worried about every flick of his eyes being seen as a political scheme. But when the day of the wedding arrives, his face must be revealed. He will no longer have access to his second life of freedom. Everyone will realize the guy that’s been coming into their shops, chomping on their meat, and frequenting their clothes aisles has actually been their future Chief all along.”

Arenah lets her hand fall over the armrest and leans back fully into the loveseat’s cushions. “Roo says he has a speech prepared to explain it all. But we both know a lot of people will be pissed about the truth of his ‘seclusion.’”

“…What will he do?”

Arenah waves a hand in the air aimlessly. “Enjoy his last Rooted Xulte Festival of Dance and Song, find a beloved, cultivate his magic further… though I don’t know why he keeps doing that so often. He’s far beyond many Life Magic Masters of this era.”

The image of that pond resurfaces in my mind. But instead of the fish, I see a younger version of Roo, padding back down the path his feet have beaten for years, weaving brilliant green between his fingertips.