Light filled the classroom with a nostalgic yellow.
The middle school students sat neatly, silently in rows and columns. The teacher stood in front of the classroom, clearly winding down.
"Are there any questions?"
As usual, nobody put their hands up. Slowly, a hand in the back rose, along with the teacher's grin.
"Miss?" His squeaky voice bounced around the room like a rubber ball.
"Yes?"
"Why do people hurt others because of skin color?"
"Because deep down they're scared of people who are different. That aren't them. That aren't their idea of the perfect person. Remember this, Rio, that no matter how a person looks…"
— — —
"It's the inside that counts."
I stand there looking at the man barring us entry into the shop. He points to the sign to his left.
NO CHANGED ALLOWED.
I roll my eyes and turn to walk away, Napoleon the giant lumbering after me.
"How many stores is that? Five?"
"Six."
"Where on earth am I going to get a sword?"
He shrugs. Good help he is.
"Apart from a magical shop or something…"
I mutter, looking around, praying for a shady alley with broken gear inside.
God knows I need it.
At my body's age of fifteen, padres get selected, and the Changed awaken their powers.
As for me, I'm supposed to have powers, but they haven't shown themselves yet.
So I'm screwed halfway up a creek without a boat or a paddle.
"F**k," I groan, raising my hand to wipe my forehead.
The charm on my arm jingles merrily.
Looking at the tiny weapons on it only strengthens my worried heart and mind.
Suddenly, a familiar smell wafts over me.
Unconsciously, I veer off and stand in front of the food stall that's making the offending smell.
"Mmmm. Food."
Napoleon and I sit—me on a chair and him on the floor.
Both of us are madly chomping down the rice presented to us by the stall's owner.
I'm eating out of the bowl the owner provided.
Napoleon's eating out of the stall.
The owner lets it go when I buy his entire stock of rice.
Hell, the owner is eating with us happily, going on about how kind we are.
I return the sentiment and thank him for allowing us to eat.
He looks at us, confused, asking why he wouldn't allow us to eat.
I tell him everything that happened to us today.
About the signs, the pointing, the angry faces made at us on sight.
He laughs.
And transforms into a werewolf.
We both look at the wolf, shocked. The spoons stop moving. I stare at the man-wolf—wolf-man?—who's still wearing an apron and gloves. He stares back, panting and waving his tail like a flag.
Napoleon laughs.
I join in.
All three of us—a Changed wolf-man, a blue giant, and a dark-skinned man without a sword—laugh and howl together.
I move to set my bowl down before it spills, and I see it.
My charm is… glowing.
I set the bowl down, and suddenly my other hand becomes heavy. Real heavy. I look and stare at the sword in my hand. It seems like a basic longsword. But to me… it looks like water after a marathon.
Napoleon stares at me.
"I thought you didn't have a weapon."
"I didn't think I did."
"It seems like the real weapon was inside you all along! And friendship—"
the shopkeeper's wolfy grin there for all to gaze at—
"was the key!"
Neither of them can hold it in for long.
"Hey, why don't you go make a couple more friends and then you'll get your powers!"
"Friendship is magicc!"
They roll laughing, making jokes.
I sigh, grin, and let them.
— — —
Hours later, long after I left the shopkeeper and returned to my dorm with Napoleon, the sword dissolves back into charm form.
We sit at the table and stare at it.
"Have you seen anything like…?"
"No."
"If it could transform into a sword…" I breathe, staring at the other weapons on the charm.
"What else could this thing do?"
He yawns. "Dunno. It'll show itself with time."
I pick it up off the table and fiddle with it again, like I've been doing ever since it changed back.
I'm just about to stand up and set it on my nightstand when I feel it.
Something different.
I flip it over and stare at the etching.
It's a single word.
"Désiré."