Onya was awakened by whispers echoing behind her bedroom door.
The sun was rising outside, she would have woken up a few minutes later. Onya stood up, stretched a hand in the direction of her nearest dagger, then stopped. The first voice was that of her seken, Tris. The second, well-known for having been way too heard, was that of the Moon's Daughter.
"No, no, you gotta go like this. Fall, one, with the leg like this, one hand in front of you, head up, two, with the whip of the hair, like this, and then, you do whatever you fighters do. Got it?"
"Yes," Tris replied with concentration in her voice.
"OK, let's go, your turn. Go baby!" She said, clapping her hands in rhythm. "One, down! Two, head up! The hair, honey, the hair! That's good, good, great! Now, up and you go! Now, we do it together!"
Onya opened the door and found herself in front of her seken and Natshanagada, crouching strangely on the floor. Seeing her, Tris straightened up, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but the Skaigada only gave her a huge smile. She had one leg extended out to the side, one arm supporting her in front of her, and the other stretched back.
Onya raised an eyebrow.
"What are you doing?"
"It's a fighting pose," the Skaigada replied with a delighted smile. "Look, you jump from the ceiling or whatever, and then you go like this," she said resuming her pose, bouncing lightly on her heels before throwing her hair back. "And boom! Fighting pose!"
She gave them a huge, happy smile, Tris seemed to be holding back from laughing.
"Where did you learn that?" Onya asked as they set off, descending the stairs one after the other.
"Natasha Romanoff. She invented it."
"Who is this Natacha you are talking about? A warrior from your Ark?"
"Uh… Yeah, you could… Say that. She was a warrior, but she's not real, she's just a woman from a story."
"The people in the story are real," Tris replied with a frown, puzzled.
"Not where I'm from. We tell story do distract ourselves, doesn't matter if they are real or not. The more unrealistic they are, the better. It keeps us away from our miserable existence."
"Here, we tell the stories of the warrior," Tris replied, the discussion seemed to be very interesting to her. "Of the noble people."
"Are there stories about Lexa?" Asked the Skaigada.
"Yes. A lot," Tris replied.
"And Anya? Are there stories about Anya?"
"Alright, that is enough. Don't you have something else to talk about?" Onya intervened.
"Actually, yes. Where are you guys going?"
"Tris and I are heading to the training ground. I'll make sure she's not going to be influenced by your nonsense. "
"Natasha Romanoff is not nonsense! How dare you!" Natshana replied as they stepped outside.
The inhabitants of Polis were waking up little by little, leaving their houses to set up their small businesses. A few horses hissed in the barn, the sun was on the horizon. The sky, covered with gray clouds, heralded the more and more autumn. Onya crossed the place in front of the tower, absently spinning a dagger in her hand.
"Who's been messing up everything?
It's been Agatha all along!
Who's been pulling every evil string?
It's been Agatha all along!"
Annoyed, Onya rolled her eyes before turning around. Natshanagada was hopping behind them, Tris seemed to hesitate between laughing or asking who this Agata was.
"Don't you have somewhere to be?" She growled.
Natashana slapped her forehead as if she had just remembered something.
"Shit, you're right! Oxana is supposed to teach me how to make bread. She said it was way too easy for me to burn the tower down."
"You don't say," Onya muttered.
"I should go. Bye Tris! Bye bestie!"
She turned on her heel and jogged away. Onya and her seken watched her do it with curious looks.
"Are you sure she is not the Moon's Daughter?"
Onya gave the girl a puzzled look.
"What do you mean?"
"Well… Look at her. It looks like she has never had a body before."
Natshana stumbled over a rock, looked down in surprise. She immediately decided to shoot in it, which she failed miserably, her foot hitting the ground. The Skaigada hopped in place holding her aching foot, then stumbled and found herself lying on the ground. Still, she reached out and raised her middle finger to the sky.
Onya grimaced.
"I see your point."
"I mean… Seriously? She knows nothing about life here, she didn't even know what a storm was."
"There was a storm?" Onya asked.
"Yeah. Apparently, she barged into Heda's quarters yelling this was the end of the world and that we were all going to die. People say that Heda had never laughed so hard."
Onya frowned.
"How do you know that?"
Tris shrugged. Behind her, Natshana had risen and stumbledt in the direction of the tower under the confused looks of passers-by.
"I am twelve, Wormana. Nobody cares if I listen. And everyone only talks about her. Everyone believes that she must have some powers if she…"
She paused abruptly, placing her hands over her mouth, blushing in shame. Onya raised an eyebrow.
"Tell me. It's an order, "she said, using the deep voice that had always enslaved her authority over Leksa, when she was little.
Tris looked down, gazing at her shoes.
"That she must have some powers if she managed to bewitch Wormana under her cham."
Onya let out a sneer.
"Do I seem bewitched to you?"
"No, Wormana," Tris replied, her eyes lowered in shame.
"So stop believing all this nonsense and focus on your training. Come on."
She turned and walked towards the training ground, Tris trotting behind her.