Shade's Sabre

Day 2

Uniformity. The word rang in Freyia's head as she adeptly wound through the crowd towards the school gates. For her people, the people living the Empire of the United Dragon,  it was one of the guiding principles, and logically, she knew why. Uniformity, discipline and community were drilled into children as much as sword practice and the times tables, and it made sense. The Empire had been at war for most of it's existence one way or another, and every citizen was trained to use swords and guns, and expected to maintain those skills, effectively meaning there was a standing army at any time. It was a given that you'd lay down your life not only for your family, but for your neighbours too, and she understood that a smart Alec asking questions under a barrage was not going to help matters. 

It didn't mean it sat right with her though. 

Freyia looked around critically at the crowd around her, seeing a mob of near identical people. Every-one was dressed the same, wearing white shirts, grey jumpers and grey trousers or skirts, and sensible black leather shoes. Pretty much everyone was the same height, the average height within the Empire at around 5 foot 7, with not a lot of difference between men and women. The all had the same almost grey-tinged skin, jet black hair and black eyes that tilted at the corners. Some days, especially at school where the conformity message was especially strong, it was like standing in a group of clones. Well, until you looked closer.

Freyia fitted in easily amongst them. She was 5 foot 6 inches exactly, putting her within an acceptable height range, with the accepted slender, wiry build and the signature black hair and fair skin. She had the same features in her oval face; full cheeks, a cute button nose, a little loveheart mouth and arching sharp black eyebrows that moved readily with her expressions. That was one of the first tells, compared to her solid classmates, Freyia's face often expressed exactly what she was thinking, and if her face didn't, her eyes would. They weren't the traditional so dark brown they're almost black of her school mates, but a misty medley of grey, green, blue and brown. That, and her name, told you that there was something a little unusual about Freyia's heritage.

She glanced around again. Everyone was resignedly milling towards the exit, meaning that progress was at a snail's pace through the narrow gate. Everyone was patiently and dutifiully taking their turn, all very carefully avoiding standing on each other's bondmates. 

Speaking of, Freyia looked down at hers. She knew that at this age, all bondmates were identical until they transitioned. While they had started out small enough to be held on the palm of your hand, by now all of her classmate's bondmates were about the size of a  puppy or a small housecat, with speckled grey and brown fur that made bizarrely effective camouflage, little pointed wolfish faces, big brown eyes and huge paws, but she still stubbornly believed hers was the most adorable. Freyia had had him nearly 2 years. The big wicker basket full of softly whining whelps came around a few times a year to present bondmates, with the occasional special one given to ensure that they were given to children at "the time of danger", which Freyia was pretty sure was a fancy way of saying 'puberty' as it was roughly around 14, or when the person progressed to the adult curriculum. She had heard of people bonding much younger, especially when a parent had passed away and their bondmate needed to bond again, but she had received him at the traditional time. 2 years on, he was nearing the age of transition.

Them, she corrected herself. You weren't meant to even think of your bondmate in gendered terms until they transitioned and showed you who they were to try to avoid biasing them, even if she did get a distinct impression hers was a boy. You also weren't supposed to name them, for the same reason. Her bondmate flipped their floppy little ears and tilted their head to one side.

"We'll never make it at this speed," she told them seriously.

They gave a nasal whine, apparently in agreement. She glanced around, then grinned, and crouched down, patting her shoulder.