The Last of Arrows

White Flag

Around 9 months later.

"That's absurd."

My voice sliced through George's sentence roughly. His light colored eyes snapped toward mine, digging holes through me. But I stood my ground.

All of the eleven pairs of eyes narrowed back at me. I took the opportunity to speak. I straightened. "Banning our dialect from the Rebel community is nonsense. It is not fair for the older generations to just leave their cultures just to pursue yours." I said, my voice not quivering one bit.

Some counsel members nodded. Others took notes. I gripped the metallic pen in my hand. Although I had little use of it, I still brought it to the counsel meetings. Most of the adults knew of me and how my persuasive ways worked.

But most of them also believed I was too young to be in the counsel. They believed I didn't belong there because I was not to be taken serious of. So I slowly taught myself how to write in the CL. I appeared more professional.

Seven and a half months passed and I did major progress thanks to the hundreds of books in the library at home. George frowned. "Keeping the dialect will skew our culture." He said in a clipped tone.

I frowned as two other Elites nodded. "How many Rebels over the past months have given up their tradition and culture for you? The Nomadic dialect will harm no one. Besides, it can help us all. The next generations can be bilingual." I said.

Low murmurs rose as people turned to each for comments. Zamora rose her hands for attention. Everyone quieted down. Everyone obeyed Zamora no matter what. It was quite an advantage having her by my side.

"Bilingual means being able to speak two languages. Back in the days of the Civic Age, it was common. There was people who spoke three! The war is among us and if we can train our soldiers and families to speak different languages or dialects, the government won't be able to know what we are planning." I said, meeting each person's stare.

Wavner nodded. "The girl has a point." He muttered. Donald murmured in agreement. Just as George opened his mouth, a little timer went off. The counsel looked around in confusion. It took me a while to realize it was me.

I glanced at my watch.

13:30es.

One thirty in the evening shift. I was about to be late for my afternoon fighting classes. With one pinch of the off button, I turned off the beeping sound of my digital watch that Esmeralda had given me for my birthday.

My chair dragged against the floor as I stood up. I began to pack my notes. "It was a pleasure talking to you all. Hopefully the next meeting will be longer. George, please consider my offer." I said, slipping my folder under my arm.

George crossed his arms. "Where do you think you're going?" He frowned. Wavner waved me away. "She has fighting lessons." He answered for me. I nodded and turned away. My hair flew around me, tickling my jaw.

The feather flopped against my skull as I quickly made my way to the door. I left the loud counsel room in a hurry. I walked out of the official building of the counsel. My cap flapped against the back of my legs as the door slammed shut.

The sun shone brightly down in Polis. Despite the lowering temperatures of the weather, it was a nice day. Winter was soon among us and yet it was still beautiful. I pushed a short stray piece of hair behind my ear.

I lifted my chin as I kept on walking. Soon enough, I made my way through the main grounds. The cooks were still cleaning up from the lunch meal the Rebel community had only two hours ago.