Chapter 34 "Curiosity of a Child"

The scent was distinctive, tasty, just strong enough to tickle his nose and arouse him from slumber. Slowly, Noah pried his eyes open to see an empty bed across the room from his own, and soon his ears began to pick up what sounded like something bubbling in a pot. It didn't take him much longer to discern that Mio, his now permanent housemate, was cooking in the kitchenette after having awoken earlier in the morning.

Five days had passed since the two deserters had cleared and moved into their apartment, during which time she'd acquired cookware and a small desk. Besides their beds, the only other furniture in their possession were a couch and low table in the front room and a dining set in the kitchenette, all of which had more or less been buried beneath the boxes prior to their occupancy. It was a modest space at best, but they were happy to have it at all. After standing and stretching, Noah ventured out of the bedroom to see what exactly Mio was brewing.

"Mornin'," the zephyr greeted him cheerily.

"Good morning," her trusted partner drew closer to the stove.

"Clam chowder," she informed him, stirring slowly. "You want some? I made enough for both of us."

"Um, maybe later," Noah took a seat at the dining table. "I don't really like eating so soon after waking up."

"Oh, I didn't know that," the tenth-termer sat on the opposite end with a full bowl. "You've never said as much during our travels."

"I suppose now I can afford to wait until I'm ready," the pacifist attempted to piece a plausible reason together, "since we don't have to hunt for food or follow somebody else's itinerary anymore."

"I think I understand," Mio blew the steam off a spoonful of soup before bringing it to her lips. "Ah!"

"Huh?" the rest of his sleepiness snapped away upon her yelp. "Too hot?"

"Yeah, I used to burn my tongue a lot when I made this at Colony Rho," the older soldier explained before braving a sip again. This time she could enjoy it, though soon Mio noticed Noah still staring at her. "What?"

"Sorry," he temporarily averted eye contact. "I'm appreciating your company. We really made it, huh?"

"We did, with quite a bit of help," she smiled in agreement. "Speaking of which, I'd like to go to the orphanage today. Will you come with me?"

"Of course," Noah consented without hesitation, much to her delight. "And tomorrow I'd like to return to HQ, see what's been going on with the militia."

"It's a plan," the moonblades-wielder was equally willing. After enjoying another sip, Mio scooped up more of her soup and pointed the spoon in his direction. There was something sweet about her little offering, one which Noah couldn't refuse and thus leaned forward to reach it with his mouth. With breakfast finished by the end of the hour, both deserters got dressed and headed southward for the orphanage.

Letting themselves into the lobby, Noah and Mio found nobody there to greet them but heard plenty of voices elsewhere in the building. Thusly, they continued down the hall until they discovered the commotion in a kitchen four times the size of their own. Children were lined up by the sink, each one waiting for their turn to rinse a dirty, empty plate in their equally grubby hands.

"Mio, Noah," Terelda, the matriarch of the establishment with silver hair in a bun spotted them first. "You've just missed breakfast with us."

"Oh, hello," the cat-eared Agnian had hardly noticed her back. "It's fine, we ate before coming here."

"Will you be volunteering, then?" the old woman pressed her palms together.

"Yes," Mio nodded before briefly looking over her shoulder to Noah. "Now that we're settled in, we can start to return the favor."

"Wonderful," Terelda hid none of her glee upon hearing her say so. "As you can see, we're about to move onto the next activity."

"Ah, and what might that be?" the ponytailed soldier watched some of the orphans scurry through the doorway.

"Morning lessons," her response was brief as she motioned for them to follow her. "You can assist our visiting educators."

Passing through the doorway themselves, Noah and Mio entered a slightly larger room with a whiteboard, several desks, and a couple of boxes marked toys. Once the rest of the children had filed in as well, they were divided into three groups seemingly based on age range, each one supervised by an aforementioned instructor.

"Is this… a classroom?" Noah wondered aloud as he and Mio scanned the humble scene.

"May as well be." Answering this time was Finn, Terelda's husband and the bald patriarch of the establishment. "Since they don't have parents to enroll them in school, we try to provide them with an education ourselves. Although, the youngest ones haven't yet grown past the playing stage."

"I never realized how far back they'd have to start," the zephyr remarked with a tinge of sympathy.

"You soldiers are born with the basic knowledge of a ten-year-old," the old man reminded them of the comparison. "And then your education was skewed towards warfare."

"Indeed," the ninth-termer confirmed disdainfully, "plus anything else that would benefit a colony."

"At least those skills can be useful in the City," Finn latched his thumbs to his belt, looking to the bright side.

"Anyway, you said we can assist the educators?" Mio steered the conversation back on track, eager to do her part.

"Yes," the silver-haired senior extended her arm to each of the three groups, "whether it's by reading to the children or handling materials."

"Even picking up after them would be a huge help," her husband flashed their guests the okay sign, "especially since bending down does a number on my back."

"We'll do what we can," the pacifist promised with the same confident tone which Mio was accustomed to hearing from him.

And thus, school was more or less in session at the orphanage. While Mio spent the opening hour building miniature block forts with the youngest group, Noah took particular interest in what the oldest kids were learning. It fascinated him to observe and occasionally help them solve basic arithmetic, among other things that he'd known right from birth thanks to Moebius. Occasionally, he'd glance across the room to Mio who seemed to be taking lessons herself in speaking with those who could barely form sentences.

In due time, the two deserters decided to move onto the middle group which was by far the largest. Ranging from ages four to six, these children were just putting their picture books away when their instructor, a short, brown-haired woman with glasses, noticed that they had company.

"Hello, may we join you?" the cat-eared Agnian politely inquired.

"Oh, certainly," the visiting educator in charge of this group approved after briefly pausing to observe her and Noah's term marks. "You're liberated soldiers, aren't you?"

"Yes, I'm Mio," the older volunteer took the opportunity to introduce herself.

"And I'm Noah," the younger one spoke next, now with all eyes of the group on them.

"Mio and Noah," the children's instructor repeated to herself, forming a smile moments later. "You can call me Dot, and you're just in time for our next lesson."

"Ah, that's good," he adopted her sunniness. "What is it?"

"Well, we were about to have a little review session," she informed him and Mio before huddling with her charges. "Kids, would you like to tell our new friends what you've learned this week?"

"Yeah!" bellowed roughly half of the group while the rest appeared too shy to react.

"Splendid!" Dot cupped her hands together while Noah and Mio joined her up front. "Now, who would like to go first?"

"Me!" shouted an eager, dark-toned boy.

"Alright, Marketh," the bespectacled educator gave him the opening spotlight, "what did you learn?"

"You can make things… um, be in your hands!" he claimed proudly with his palm open.

"Ah, er, that's neat!" the moonblades-wielder maintained the energy despite not quite understanding him.

"What sort of things can you make?" Noah sought clarification from the sharing child.

"Uhhh… a lot?" the little boy wasn't prepared to explain, continuing to gesture with his hand instead.

"Blades," the ponytailed soldier deduced to Mio, "I think he means Blades."

"Ah, yes, Blades are what citizens and liberated soldiers use to defend our City," Dot imparted on her students, even though it wasn't something that she'd taught them. "Okay, who would like to share next?"

"C-can I?" a girl with pigtails raised her hand.

"Yes, you may, Kelma," her superior rewarded her good manners. "What would you like to tell our guests?"

"I… l-learned that… uh…" the slightly distracted child's eyes drifted towards Noah's hand, "marks are bad."

"Marks? You mean like this?" Mio pointed to the side of her neck, taken aback by the broached subject. "Oh, and why are they… bad?"

"Because… they mean going away," the little girl answered in her own callow way.

"Right…" the tenth-termer's gaze and hand both dropped slowly.

"Soldiers from outside the City have them, but all of you do not," the children's instructor assured them, hoping to quell any fears that they might've had. "Moving along, does anyone else want to share?"

"My mama went away," a different child spoke openly without waiting to be picked.

"Mine too," their classmate beside them followed suit, "a-and papa."

"I suppose this group is old enough to understand a little bit," the contemplative Kevesi concluded to his Agnian counterpart.

"Does that mean you will go away?" another kid asked the two soldiers point-blank.

"Uh…" Noah appeared stunned for a response even though such a question had seemed inevitable.

"Yes, we will… eventually," the zephyr put on a brave face in front of the sea of stares.

"I'm sorry about this," Dot apologized for her students who by now had quieted down. "They're naturally curious."

"We understand," Mio nodded after she and Noah had recomposed themselves.

"Alright, would anyone else like to say what you've learned this week?" the bespectacled educator softly clapped her hands once, hoping to restore order to their activity. Further responses were of the innocuous sort for which Noah and Mio were grateful, however, they remained a little vexed throughout the rest of their time in morning lessons. Although volunteering at the orphanage was what she'd wanted, both soldiers were relieved when the children were eventually dismissed for outdoor recess.

"There they go," the bald senior watched the youngest ones run through the kitchen. "So much energy bottled up from being cooped in there."

"No running inside, please," his wife called to them before addressing Noah and Mio who'd slowly brought up the rear. "So, how did it go?"

"It was… rather interesting," the cat-eared Agnian momentarily struggled to find the right words. "For knowing nothing at birth, their imaginations seemed to go everywhere."

"The curiosity of a child is a winsome thing," Finn summed it up simply. "So much to learn, so much to share."

"I'm almost jealous," the pacifist commented next, arms crossed and smiling. "Their innocence is apparent and rather comforting in a world like this."

"It is," his special mate concurred with a similar expression before facing her hosts. "Anyway, thanks for letting us participate."

"And thank you for volunteering," Terelda reciprocated the gratitude, nearly bowing.

"We'll keep coming back," the moonblades-wielder promised, with no objections from Noah.

"You're welcome anytime," the old woman gave them her blessing as they turned to leave.

Mental exhaustion set in soon after Noah and Mio had stepped outside. The late summer air almost felt cool on their faces after having spent hours inside the orphanage's busiest room. With nothing else planned for the day, they returned to their apartment to decompress and further discuss their enlightening experience amongst themselves.

"Can't say that went as expected," Noah dragged his feet across the front room first. "Then again, what did we expect?"

"I think I learned more than the children did today," Mio scratched the back of her head, equally bewildered. "How unusual it was… putting myself at their level."

"It makes sense that they'd be curious," he concurred with earlier sentiments, now seated on the couch. "Everything is new to them."

"The concept of life and death must be difficult for them to comprehend," she conjectured before continuing into the kitchenette, "even though their parents were soldiers who'd reached homecoming."

"Perhaps they don't have a complete grasp of it quite yet," the swordfighter started to wonder himself, hands on knees, "unless they know that going away means not coming back."

"It must've been distressing for them to witness their own parents' lives scattering in the breeze," the cat-eared Agnian lamented while she prepared some tea, "whether or not they understood why."

"I still feel uneasy whenever I see motes rising," his eyes were momentarily closed, head slowly shaking.

"That doesn't surprise me," the zephyr joined him on the couch, now with a cup of tea in front of her. "Anyway, since we've volunteered at the orphanage today, shall we sign up for a mission tomorrow?"

"Yes," the ponytailed soldier turned to face her, "if you're still up for it."

"I am," she returned his marginally concerned gaze. "Are you?"

"Of course," Noah nodded slowly, rumpling his forehead soon after. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Never hurts to check," her own expression hardly changed. "You would know, huh?"

"I suppose I would," the ninth-termer easily conceded while she proceeded to sip her tea. "By the way, there is one thing we've been neglecting."

"Oh?" she peered at him through the remaining wisps of steam. "And what might that be?"

"Our Ouroboros enhancements," his pensive gaze descended to his open palms.

"Ouroboros?" Mio set her teacup down, eventually mimicking his position. "Huh… now that you mention it, I don't think I've actually used my Blade since coming to the City."

"I've used mine during practice, when we were separated," the pacifist recalled from his recent mission to the Great Cotte Falls, "but I didn't notice any differences at the time."

"Hmm…" a spell of silence ensued while an idea or two ran through her head. "Could it be due to not actually fighting anyone?"

"You think that's the cause?" his eyes widened at her suggestion.

"If you're just practicing, you're probably not putting forth your best effort," the moonblades-wielder expounded further.

"That's a pretty sound theory," he activated his Blade, staring contemplatively at its intricate design.

"Shall we test it?" the older deserter stood and faced the younger one.

"Test?" Noah peered up at her with one brow raised. "You want me to spar with you?"

"Yeah," she rested her hands on her hips. "How else?"

"I'm not hitting you," his weapon dissolved upon quickly retracting his hands away from her.

"That's sweet, but suit yourself," Mio smirked before leaving his company, almost in a saunter. "I'll be reading in the bedroom if you need me."

"Okay, and I'll be right outside," the ponytailed soldier got up himself.

The afternoon sun was beginning to stretch the shadows across the residential plaza by the time Noah reemerged from his and Mio's apartment. With the neighborhood being relatively sparse, there was plenty of space for him to swing a sword. Arming himself again, he proceeded to practice his maneuvers like he'd often done previously. Initially unsure of how to change it up, Noah focused on a tree five metri away and performed multiple aerial slashes immediately in front of himself. It seemed to stabilize his balance at least, though he still wasn't feeling anything different yet.

Far from frustrated, Noah relaxed his stance with his Blade now held vertically. A few deep breaths and a clear mind were what he needed in this solitary moment. Occasional chatter could be heard in the background, though none of it seemed to bother him. Never before had he stood so still, thus preparations were complete for his next phase of sword kata.

Ever focused, both soldier and Blade soon became coated in the faintest of glows. An audible grunt escaped Noah's mouth as he put one foot forward and stabbed the air. All at once, the light manifested into an afterimage of himself holding the same, aggressive pose before gradually fading away. Also gone was his breath upon settling back down, likely as a result of what felt like an expulsion of stored power. Perhaps this was the Ouroboros enhancement that members of the City's militia had touted.

"Whoa…" someone's reaction to his performance sounded from behind.

"Huh?" Startled, the formerly concentrating Kevesi spun around to find a brown-haired boy of about half his height standing nearby. "Ah, sorry, I didn't see you back there."

"You did it," the sociable child proclaimed not quite loudly.

"Oh, um… I guess I did…" Embarrassment washed over Noah who hadn't anticipated attracting any onlookers. Remembering his experience at the orphanage earlier today, however, he saw an opportunity to interact with someone whose knowledge was rapidly growing. "Do you know what it was?"

"Dad says it's… Orbors…" the little brunet attempted to say the tongue-twisting word.

"Ouroboros, right?" the pacifist assisted him with the rest, impressed that he'd known it in the first place.

"Uh-huh." By now, it was becoming clear that the yet unnamed boy's stare wasn't going anywhere else.

"Well, er… I hope you were entertained," the swordfighter rubbed the back of his neck. "Clearly, I'm still getting the hang of it."

"Can you do it again?" his audience of one requested eagerly.

"Samuel!" a sharp voice intervened, belonging to a woman approaching with a bag of groceries. "I told you not to wander off!"

"Mum!" the little brunet snapped to attention and quickly ran to her side.

"Must you always worry me?" she grumbled at him before briefly addressing Noah. "Sorry he bothered you."

"Oh, he was no trouble at all," the ponytailed soldier withdrew his Blade and displayed his palms genially. Nevertheless, the seemingly abashed woman marched away with her son in tow.

"What was that all about?" the zephyr poked her head out the front door, having just caught the end of the ruckus.

"That boy," her trusted partner watched the child steal glances back to him. "Seems he took an interest in my swordplay."

"Ah, children really are curious about things, aren't they?" Mio recalled what Finn had remarked to them earlier. "So, was your practice productive?"

"It was, eventually," he relayed his limited progress to her. "I didn't experience anything until I focused on my Blade."

"Your Blade?" she tilted her head slightly.

"I had to… become one with it," his eyes were temporarily closed, reliving the sensation in his mind, "like it was a part of me."

"So, you really had to concentrate on it, huh?" the articulate Agnian interpreted his explanation for herself as she summoned her dual ring swords.

"My mind was clear," Noah prepared to walk her through his experimentative procedure, "and once I felt like my grip was secure, I thought about where I wanted to strike."

"Sounds rather risky for me," she dropped her wary sights to the ground, "since I have to keep on the move."

"Maybe it's something that becomes second nature," the hopeful swordsman pondered while she moved a couple of steps away from him, "in which case you won't have to worry about it in a fight."

"I'll give it a shot, at least while it's safe." Now with ample room for herself, Mio assumed her usual fighting stance. Noah knew to keep his mouth shut while she prepared to replicate his success from a few minutes prior. The only noise besides the wind was the distant chatter again, hardly a distraction for the pair of liberated soldiers who'd spent all but the previous week of their lives in the warring colonies.

Poised to pounce for the first time since being liberated, Mio steadied her breathing and imagined a target in front of herself. Once ready, she let out a battle cry upon unleashing two backhanded slashes in the air with all her might. Such an exertion it was that the cat-eared Agnian hardly noticed her afterimage dissipating within seconds after it'd formed.

"I think you got it," he lauded her effort, "and on your first attempt, too."

"It felt… a little bit like when the Ouroboros stone was activated," his special mate brought up for comparison, winded from her very brief trial.

"Yeah." Noah's hands were extended towards Mio for support, however, she didn't appear to need it. "If we keep practicing, there's no telling how much we'll improve."

"Not here," the moonblades-wielder peered around self-consciously, her Blade no longer out. "I don't want to cause a disturbance again."

"Ah, right," he shared in her guardedness, even though they didn't have any immediate neighbors to consider. "There's plenty of greenspace outside the City, and I'm sure HQ has a training area, too."

"We can check them out some other time," Mio pivoted for the front door which had been left open. "Between the orphanage and this, I'm feeling rather tired now."

"I hear you," his tone began to match hers. "We'd better rest up for tomorrow."

Before following her back inside, Noah lingered long enough for the next weak gust to tease the end of his ponytail while he observed their fenceless, plated yard. There wasn't much to note besides a couple of empty, rectangular plots of dirt beneath their window and that of the next-door unit, both begging for a short hedge or some other low-maintenance shrubbery to add color to the monotony. The rest of their apartment could've stood for a little sprucing up as well, though they knew very little about home décor at present.

A few more citizens passed through the residential plaza, each with things of their own to do. It still amazed Noah that peace such as this could exist in Aionios, especially knowing that Keves and Agnus continued to throw unliberated soldiers at each other to fill Flame Clocks. Whatever the next mission had in store for him and Mio, he aimed to pull his weight and deal a blow for Moebius.