Image above: A dress making its debut in this chapter.

"If you are grateful, I will give you more." [Qur'an, 14:7]

Jack slashed the tree stump with his blade, and took a step back, panting slightly. What? Nearly no impact.

Just cause he ran off from home – eh-hem, moved out- Didn't mean he'd let himself get out of practice.

Time he honed one of his best moves. There were different 'styles' in Brynnland Armed Force martial arts, which used characteristics from nature and animals. His specialty wasn't lion or tiger, or even wolf though.

It was Butterfly. The fastest. The one he'd chosen because  speed actually hadn't been his specialty. He'd wanted to change that.

So, here it came. Butterfly Style - Hurricane. He jumped, shot a right-leg kick to the front, simultaneously rotating 90 degrees in mid-air, and landed on the earth. He then struck a roundhouse-kick with his left leg, spinning his scarlet and silver rod (his morphed Nyfe) in the air at eye-level until it became a whizzing circle of pink blur. Feet planted firmly on the floor, shoulders straight, he leaped high and, while rotating another 90 and moving the spinning staff over his head, he performed a vicious front kick in mid-air. 

180 degrees in 1.5 seconds.  He repeated the two moves in another second (or two maybe, he admitted; he was getting slower). Now he'd rotated 360 degrees, and facing the wooden stump, all charged up, adrenalin and cortisol flowing, he high-jumped in the air and swung the 4-foot rod down on the stump before him. Milliseconds before impact with the hunk of solid cellulose (turns out Syeda's lessons had some vague application), the staff shifted to a blade form and cut down on the wooden structure.

Jack leaped back, trying and just about managing a loop-de-loop in mid air, to have a clear look at his handiwork. He landed on his feet with one hand on the ground before him, and lifted his head to look in front of him. The stump was cut cleanly in two (and the land around it), the cut's indentation reaching deep into the earth. 

A bit too deep. Oops.

"Well done. Might as post an SOS sign: runaway Nyfe-possessor on the loose." Jack rolled his eyes.

Syeda came up to Jack and the tree stump, hand on her hip, and looked from it to Jack disdainfully.

"Nice new toy."

"It wasn't just the toy, it was me as well!" Jack effused. He cocked his head to left.

"Say Sarah, you still do martial arts, amiright?"

"Shotokan Karate."

"Shame. Kung Fu's better. Even Tai Chi has more promise. Though may I suggest, Kali is re-"

"You may not." Syeda threw a see-through plastic packet with some clothes inside his way, that whistled like a missile until Jack caught it.

"Here's the school uniform I told you I was coming to give. There are," Syeda checked her watch "eighteen minutes till school opens. There's no time to go back to your Air-Pro BnB to change. It's straight to school or miss school now."

Syeda wrinkled her nose as she looked at him. "You must be sweaty."

"This?" Jack objected, referring to his practice area and his own abdomen. "This is nothiiing! Naaaah, takes way more to make me sweat!" Jack placed his hands behind his head and whistled serenely.

"Alright Khabib." Syeda resisted an eye-roll as she swept to the park entrance swiftly, looking behind her once before leaving a scurrying Jack who rushed to catch up.

"Hey Sarah!" He reached her side. "You learn karate, and you assume it'll help you (ensure you're unstoppable, yada yada) in a streetfight, amiright?"

Syeda looked wary but carefully nodded. Her interpretation was slightly different, but arguing over technicalities with Jack could take days. She had experience.

"Well, there's a saying of this ancient guy called Bruce's Lee's right, that says: "If you want to learn to swim jump into the water. On dry land no frame of mind is ever going to help you."

Syeda thought she knew where this was going.

"You prepare all these years for a real fight, do all these pretty katas and learn all those creeds, but how will you ever know they work in one? You're preparing all your life for something you never want to be a part of." Jack ended with a smile.

"Karate is about discipline too." 

'Yeah but it's not like you lacked that before', thought Jack. 

"And I am convinced it could help-"

"Sarah, didn't you once tell me that you are a scientist, not a sportsperson? So really, you'll never know if it will. If someone really wanted to knock you out, they'd bring a taser, a gun, go pew pew, or even a big stick, whack you from behind and go 'There. Boom'."

"What's your point?" Syeda stopped and asked, eyebrow arched. They'd been walking as they spoke, so were now halfway to school, the sea of blazers, shirts, and occasional wonky ties was now visible.

"Why waste your time with something that's not gonna help? Sarah, karate (and most weapon-less traditional martial arts) don't prepare you for real-life brawls. In our times of tech-do-it-for-me and peace, the katas haven't been modified to be applicable to the new world.

Now, it's just for laymen, to feel armed and good about themselves and to add something on their CV. I agree, it teaches good discipline and morals (and a few cool kicks to impress your family and friends), but you already have that." Jack seemed at a loss as to how to put into words what he wanted to say next, and licked his lips, eyes darting around nervously.

"You think that if I hang around with you, I'm going to need to get ready for a real fight?" Syeda discerned. 

Jack hesitated, then reluctantly nodded. 

"Sure, I have Slifer with me-" Syeda looked at him questioningly.

"I named my Nyfe Slifer. Slifer – el Dragón del Cielo, technically." Jack smiled a wide, nervous smile, teeth showing. "Yeah, it's after one of the dragons in my favourite kids show, okay. Don't laugh."

Syeda knew that if she reacted to every ridiculous decision in Jack's life, it'd become a full-time job, which is why she didn't bother anymore. "Why does it need a name? It's not animate."

Jack shot her a quick unreadable expression, before remembering to carry on.

"Names are cool! Anyway, me and my red beauty are obviously enough to help me out, but you might be by yourself sometimes."

He looked at her intently. "You should spar with me, Sarah. Or with someone on a good level. I'm warning you though, when I'm sparring, I'm aiming to kill right until the moment I don't." Jack ended with a goofy smile aiming to put her at ease, but Syeda had already given him 'the look of not taking him seriously' (he wondered if he could make a better name for it – ah! The viper look!). She continued, walking on ahead of him, through the school gates and into the building, heading for the reception. 

To register him? He followed.

"What are you doing?" Syeda hissed when he caught up to her. "You're meant to be changing into your uniform!"

Ah. That. Jack scurried off to obey her orders.

Chris walked through the school corridors, his allies walking behind. Summer chewed gum loudly and blew bubbles. Angel wore his red jacket hanging just off his shoulders, white shirt underneath. Dexter-Suleman was quiet, as always, looking unusually smart today.

"So apparently, the Syeda girl may be heading up-" Chris began, when he was interrupted.

"An anti-BFA youth rebel movement? Yeah, you mentioned a few times." Summer chirped.

There were so many things she was supposed to do today. Those brats would be having a party without her at the base. Especially Dopey and Happy; she hoped Grumpy kept them in line.

Some of them were getting older and more rebellious too; she knew for a fact that Bashful dared to buy himself lunch sometimes with some of his earnings. She narrowed her eyes. Maybe he'd have to spend some time in the castle cellar to fix him.

"And we have to find evidence of it and then report it to Special Forces, hey?" Angel asked lackadaisically.

"Yes." Chris replied, eyes focused ahead. "And Summer," She looked at him curiously.

"Interrupt me again and you're removed from the mission." It really was the sixteenth time. Yes, he'd counted.

She scowled, and turned away, crossing her arms. No one here deserved her skills.

But Chris had promised her a rich reward for her help, and given her a deposit. He'd taken interest in her social ability, her skill to coordinate and manoeuvre people. She just wasn't used to being coordinated and manoeuvred herself.

"What do you think about all this, Dex?" Angel thumped Dexter-Suleman on the back, hard. Summer couldn't imagine why he cared; she knew he called Dex 'Ex-S' behind his back.

"Summer's annoying, isn't she hey? She should definitely be kicked out, right?"

"I don't think so. She is just passionate." Dexter-Suleman replied solidly. Before Summer could rub it in Angels' face, Angel's eyes lit up at something he saw in front of him.

"It's them!" he nearly yelled, before quieting down. Chris's eyes narrowed resolutely. Showtime.

In front of them were Syeda, Jack and Frank, walking together and talking (something about a Halloween party). Actually, Jack talking while Syeda and Frank were suffered upon to listen. Syeda was checking the time repeatedly, and Frank had started to follow suit.

But Angel's eyes glowed like a tiger that had found its prize. Its precious prey.

He strode up to Frank, facing him front-on, smiling widely. "Francis, bro! We meet again!"

Francis's eyes widened, mouth hanging slightly open, and he was silent for moments before he sputtered out-

"What are you doing here?"

∞

Syeda looked at the scene in front of her with confusion. What was Chris, the Duke of Woburn's son and respected school guest just a few days ago, doing here? In full school uniform no less?

Along with him he'd gathered quite a crew, one of whom had advanced to stand directly in front of Frank with a nasty smile.

"Why don't we catch up, my friend?" He took hold of Frank's arm and proceeded to pull him along down the corridor from where Syeda and Jack been coming from. Frank strangely agreed to go along with him, looking a bit dazed. Odd; nothing usually shook him.

Angel turned his head to look at Chris and held up a forefinger, mouthing 'I'll be back', before striding off.

Syeda inspected the two; now that she looked closely, the two of them did loo-

"Syeda Johansson, enchanté! Lovely to see you again!" Chris held out a hand for Syeda to shake. She politely smiled and shook her head a little. "I tend not to shake hands. Particularly with men." she said coolly, but seeing how Chris didn't look surprised, he already knew. Why did he bother asking then?

She could see that the silvery-pink haired girl, with bows and barrettes sprinkled over her hair and uniform, a pink winter scarf still around her neck, had engaged Jack in conversation. Her voice was annoyingly high pitched.

"No matter!" Chris breezed, smiling his regular, plastic smile. 'He could give the robo teachers a run for their money.' Syeda thought lightly.

"You're probably wondering what I'm doing here! You'd wonder right!"

'Why does he sound like an advertise?' Syeda thought, annoyed.

"I'm intrigued with the passion and devotion the staff and students at this school possess! In this light, I would like to know what it is like to be a part of the student faction here at Faireville Secondary! To this end, I will be attending here for some time as a student, and at the end of my stay I hope to observe and implement ways in which I can help this school grow further and better! What do you think, Syeda?" He asked blithely, pushing up his glasses.

'That you're a prick.' She thought. But recently, one of her goals was to be nicer to (and about) people. She couldn't help being one of those people who was irritated easily by the inane and cretinous people she had the misfortune to be accosted by in her day-to-day life. But then she remembered a hadith (saying of the Prophet) that always made her feel a bit guilty:

Abd Allah ibn 'Amr said, "The Messenger of Allah (peace be upon him) was never obscene or coarse. Rather, he used to tell us that the best among us were those with the best manners."*

Ah yes. Hard. But from now on, abide by it, she would. Syeda tried her very, very hardest to smile politely, saying every word nice and slowly. "I think, that I am late for class, Chris. Goodbye, Chris. Have a nice day, Chris."

She had caught Jack sending her stealthy pleas for help with his eyes while the silver-pink-haired girl was talking to him (mainly about herself), and now, she took him by the blazer arm, smiled goodbye at Chris (had she ever smiled this much?), and walked off to first class, English.

"Wait, Syeda!" Chris was walking quickly behind them. God, what did he want now? Syeda breathed out heatedly, it making an audible, aggravated sound.

Jack looked sympathetic. "You know, I feel like I've seen this guy somewhere before... This 'Chris'... Excepting that time he visited this school when I got bored and decided to ghost you guys." Jack smiled widely, hoping Syeda wouldn't be angry.

Syeda rolled her eyes. "Yannow, some day those are eyes gon' stay that way." Jack predicted.

'Why does Jack feel that talking like a Yankee is cool. Always these imbecilic trends, ever since he was young.' Syeda steamed internally.

"Your thoughts are literally written on your face, you know." Jack chirruped. "Don't worry, I'm not offended!"

"How lovely, I never asked."

Chris had finally caught up to them, fixing his glasses, and carefully avoided looking at Jack. "My fellows! We are in the same first class! In fact, I checked with the secretary, and I believe we are in the same class for everything!" he almost sang.

Syeda and Jack's eyes widened to dish-plates.

∞

"Damn parties." Elyka huffed as painstakingly as she re-sewed the lining her peach-pink outfit for the Halloween party coming up. The whole school was coming (except probably Syeda, who bunked every social event she could get away with).

"Elyka, Anong ginagawa mo (what are you doing)?" Her mother asked in Filipino, opening the door slightly to peer in, looking at the dress

"Inihahanda ko ang aking mga damit, ina (I'm getting my clothes ready, mum)." Elyka replied.

"Darling, you said you were ill today and couldn't go to school. Rest, my child. You already prepared your outfit and put it aside a week ago." Her mother sat on the bed, looking at her worriedly.

"I know... but it doesn't look right." Elyka said, worriedly. She looked at her school timetable stuck on the wall. Double Science. That would be hard to catch up on. "And I think I'll go to school this afternoon; I feel a bit better now after all. I'll just take the wings off the princess gown before I go. They look silly."

Her mother looked at her solemnly. "Matagal na itong ginawa sa kanila (It took a long time to make them).", she replied, worried about how her daughter had spent days on just the wings themselves.

"I'm grown up now, ina (mother). I can't be into these childish things. They'll just laugh at me like last year." Elyka's eyes were emotionless, but her mother could see the worry twisting her lip.

Her mother placed her hand on her head and brought it closer, kissing it.

"You are perfect dear. You've done and achieved so much. Your father and I are so proud of you, though we forget to say it sometimes. Don't ever believe you're less than you are. Remember, you don't need the approval of strangers."

Elyka grinned through tears, unable to say her thoughts. But of course, she didn't agree.

René Descartes, the mathematician and philosopher, said famously, "I think, therefore I am." But he also said "I think, therefore you are."

'So doesn't that mean we are what people's perceptions create us to be?' thought Elyka. After we die, people's perceptions are all that'll be told about us; they were all that lasted.

So they were worth carving, and honing, and crafting and molding with your own hands, tirelessly.

She would never let herself be laughed at again.

Little did she know that just then, her mother could read her every thought from looking at her face. Because mothers could do that sometimes.

'Oh darling. Time will teach you.' she contemplated sadly as she kissed her daughter's head again and left the room, with one last look back. 

Angel threw Frank against the locker, gripping the teen's collar tightly.

"We meet again, hey?" He smirked. "I missed you, little cuz." Angel's hand raised towards Frank's head.

Frank smiled lightly back, mirroring his relative. He may have been caught by surprise, slightly dazed, launched into a situation that was going from 0-100 real fast - but the one fact that whirred in his mind, spinning at atomic speed, was that this was a serious confrontation.

For some reason, Angel, the cousin he hadn't seen for years, was at his school. 

He also wasn't happy. 

Why?

Seeing the glowing, fiery intent in Angel's hazel-yellow eyes, getting the answers would meant fighting him first.

Frank caught Angel's arm that was advancing towards him, and twisted it downwards near his leg. Angel's other arm came from above but Frank caught that, until both his cousin's arms were in his tight grip, one caught near his face and one parallel to his thigh.

Students were watching and gesturing to each other, and some began to yell. "Fight! Fight! FIGHT!"

Once upon a time, Frank and Angel had watched a load of action movies together. Frank grinned wickedly at his cousin who glared angrily back, smile finally gone. 

Luckily he had always been the one who paid attention to the details.

Angel eventually wrenched his hands violently out of Frank's grip. "You know something, Francis?" Angel spat out.

"You think you're so bloody great."

Blind to the gathering crowd, Angel whipped something out of his pocket, a short rod, thick at one end but narrowing to a point, like a wand. What was odd was its dazzling colour; it was gold with yellow streaks running through it.

Frank's eyes widened. Angel pointed the rod towards Frank's face, his face contorted, each word hatefully laced with all the spite he could finally release as he spoke.

"I'm going to make you regret being born."

A hand placed itself firmly on Angel's shoulder.

"Stop." 

* (Al-Bukhari)

A/N:

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