The Sun Dwellers

“Your father was killed during the Uprising.” A statement A

Maia takes a breath. “It was a normal day for us. The Uprising was something happening far away, never getting close to our subchapter. Father sent us messages on an almost daily basis, reassuring us that he was alive and well and that the Resistance would win in the end, that good would conquer evil. He loved using language like that, righteous and grand.” Maia clears her throat, swallows, continues: “No message came that day, but that didn’t worry me, as some days there was no mail at all. We knew there would be a message the next day. We were just sitting down to di

“And yet I’ll never forget the look on my mom’s face: utter fear. I’d never seen her face so white—ghostly is the only way I can describe it—her eyes like the eyes of a stranger. It made me shiver when I saw her, and just like her, I knew. There was no friend at the door. No neighbor. No client. Only death.”

“The Resistance came to give you the news?” A

Maia nods. “Sort of. All they said was, ‘I’m sorry,’ and then, ‘Turn on the news.’ We did, of course, and we learned that the Uprising had been snuffed out by the Sun Realm in one foul swoop.”

“‘The Massacre’ they coined it. A name given by the President himself.”

“Yes. My father died in the Massacre.”

Wait. Something doesn’t make sense. “How old are you?” A

“Twenty-nine,” Maia says.

Twenty-nine! A

“Yes. At that age I still thought my father was invincible. I didn’t understand. Yes, I know, Daddy’s dead, but when is he coming home? My mother didn’t know how to respond to my questions, which were relentless. Yes, you said yesterday that Daddy’s not coming home, but this is a different day. Today he’s coming home, right? I remember hearing her crying at night and going in her room, asking her What’s wrong? A couple of years passed and I grew up, finally gaining an understanding of death and what it meant for our family. Daddy was never coming home, because he wasn’t in the Tri-Realms anymore, was somewhere else where we couldn’t see him.”

“You’re religious?”

“Not really, but we always talked about how Daddy was in a better place, how he was still watching us. I loved talking about him, but I think it was hard for my mother.”

“What happened next?” A

“I got older. When I turned twelve my mother changed. She started disappearing at night, while I was sleeping. I never questioned her about it, but one night, I decided to follow her. She didn’t go far—just down the street.

“She approached a house, said something through a stone door on the side, and the door opened. I stayed in the shadows, watching the door for a few minutes, as a dozen other women did the same thing. When ten minutes passed without anyone else appearing, I moved in.”

A smile forms on A

“I tried the door, but it wouldn’t budge. As a kid I always liked climbing things, so I wasn’t scared at all about clambering up the high stone wall surrounding the property. The top of the wall was rounded, so I had to balance very carefully as I crept along to the back of the house. Before I was halfway, I heard sounds: women talking, occasional grunts and groans, a thud or two.

“When I cleared the edge of the house and my line of sight was no longer obscured, I was shocked at the sight before me. There were four or five lines of women—perhaps thirty in all—dressed in black battle fatigues, like the ones I’d seen Father wear. Perfectly synchronized, they were punching and kicking and swinging staffs, mimicking the movements of a woman dressed in white battle gear, who was leading them.”

A

“Yes,” Maia says. “Although I didn’t know that at the time. And you know what? The woman in white was you.”

Chapter Five

“Really? It was me?” A

“Yes,” Maia says. “It was the first of three times I saw you. I followed my mother at night several times after that. She always went to the same house, and the same thing always happened. The training was different each time, and I found myself practicing the movements around the house when my mother wasn’t watching.

“There were different instructors most nights, but you never came back. I suspect you were travelling around, conducting similar training all over the Moon Realm.” Maia stops, looks to A

“That’s correct. I loved those times, for as dark as they were, we were a part of something important, something special. A group of women with one goal: to restore liberty and equality to the Tri-Realms.” A

“I joined the WLM,” Maia says, and A

“When?”

“That same year.”

“That’s not possible. Sixteen years old was the age requirement. You said you were twelve.”

Maia grins and then twitches. Rubbing her ankle, she adjusts her position. A

“That was the requirement. Primarily because of concerns that younger children might blab about things. Secrecy was of the utmost importance.”

“Right. We’d had problems with spies in the past. The Uprising was stopped so quickly because of them, did you know that?” A

“No. What happened?”

“The Resistance had everything pla

“Which is why you were so careful to maintain the secrecy of the WLM,” Maia notes.

“Exactly. Which is why a twelve-year-old wouldn’t be permitted to attend our meetings, or even know about us, except by sneaking around in the shadows and climbing stone walls,” A

“What can I say? I was a curious little girl. But I also joined the WLM that year.”

“How?”

“Well, I continued my sneaking and climbing,” Maia says, one side of her lip curled up. “And then one night I got too complacent. I was hugging the wall, watching the women train, so tired I could barely keep my eyes open. And then I couldn’t anymore. My eyes closed for just a second, or maybe it was longer—I have no idea—when my eyes snapped open and I was falling, tumbling from the wall. I scraped at the stone, splitting a few of my nails open as I tried to hang on, but I’d already gathered too much momentum. When I thudded onto the hard rock patio, all eyes turned toward me. I was wheezing, trying to get my breath back, dazed and afraid and bruised.”