Ayameko Misaki had been raised by her father and from a very young age had been instructed on the difference between right and wrong. He had taught her how to fight; for defense purposes only, of course. She had been brought up under his wing with the unconditional and never-ending love of a father for his daughter. From the very first time her father ever taught her anything, he’d always been firm in his belief that every one person was good on the inside. Even those that didn’t seem good on the surface had some kind of good on them on the inside. Raised from a youngster to be free-thinking and passionate in her opinions and beliefs, Ayameko’s first solo decision had come very young when she began insisting that she be called ‘Aya’ instead of her full given name.

Growing into adulthood, Aya continued to follow the teachings of her father and had picked up on some observational opinions of her own. First and foremost of these opinions- the Shogunate government was proving again and again to be no good news of any kind. She watched as her father grew more irritated with the way their lives were unfolding before them, all of which coming to wilt in its quality. It pained her to watch her father struggle to get them by on a day by day scale and, when he finally lost his job to a foreigner, Aya knew nothing would ever be the same.

Aya’s father had at first been tolerant of the foreigners and believed that everyone and anyone had the right to a chance at making a living. But when his livelihood, for which he had bled and sweat for, was practically taken away from him and then proceeded to be handed over to someone who hadn’t bled for it at all; she watched her father’s spirit die.

With his growing anger, he attended gatherings and speeches in crowds and had managed to keep his head low and out of harm’s way…until Day Three. That was the last she’d ever saw him. He’d been killed, of course…murdered is the term she used. Murdered by the very rule he so readily obeyed! This infuriation sent her blood into frenzy and swept her feet into the forests with the other civilians who had fled the city. She’d been fortunate enough in all her mournful rage to be discovered by a small group of civilians that had formed and rallied together as a camp and taken under their wing before she’d had any run-ins with any soldiers; for surely she’d rip as many apart as she could until her last breath.

That was then and this is now, she tried to convince herself. Though her heart ached with the very fresh gaping hole her father’s death created, she knew now that it was important to stay focused, be prepared, and help as much as possible. It is what her father would have expected of her; would have done himself. She vowed to not let his death be one in vain. She was needed here more than wandering without direction and crying.

Since then, the days following the end of her world, Aya spent her time tending to her fellow citizens, the other refugees in the camp, and kept a watchful eye on the men as they planned and practiced. She knew something was brewing. She’d been assigned as a guide of sorts, and had been spending these days—this very one included—helping new-coming citizens fleeing from Cizok. A sort of link in the chain, per say, she’d intercept fleeing people in the forests and act as a guide to safely run them back to the camp and hiding from any uninvited visitors in the trees. By this day, she knew the wooded lines well, and like an ant helping to build its home or bring food, she scurried back and forth from the camp and into the woods, helping to bring other citizens safely to their temporary sanctuary.

Today, at least one person out of the ordinary would come stumbling into the woods, with a disheveled look about him and with a weary stride. This man, Professor Keane Sigmund, had been stealthily searchng Cizok for his students, who had the tendancy to disappear completely when seperated from him during times of turmoil. And seperated they were, following the massive airship crashes in the center of the city on the infamous Day Three. For a good time, he had been sending out periodic signals high in the air, but as of yet, he had gotten no signals back from his like-skilled wards.

As could be seen visibly on him, even over his torpid mannerisms, he was very angry about this fact. In fact, every once in a while he would start yelling at forest creatures, blaming them for his oversights without any layer of cautiousness for who would hear. He was a nervous wreck at this point, for losing the only people he had any obligation to, and if he didn't calm down, he threatened (audibly) to level the whole forest until he found them.

By now she’d fallen into a routine that kept her busy through her days at the camp. There was always the process of trying to stay one or two steps ahead of the soldiers, which had them moving often and never being completely settled. It was part of her daily routine to take her first trip into the deep woods on the chance that she might cross paths with a couple—or sometimes more—of frantic people from the city. It seemed the more days that passed after Day Three, the more frantic and desperate the coming people seemed. Whatever was happening back within the city limits, it couldn’t have been anything good.

It was on this day, in these woods, did she hear the voice of a man. This man seemed to curse at the very plant growth of the forest…and he was trying to send some kind of signal?! Was he nuts? Surely, he must’ve lost it, under the pressure and the stress of everything that had been happening. Who, in their right mind, would mindlessly throw up signals for anyone to see? One who had a death wish maybe, or perhaps someone trying to lead the soldiers somewhere nobody else wanted them. A spy…

Ayameko Misaki hurried for the man’s form, hands balling into fists at her sides. “Are you crazy?!” she whispered harshly, “Or just plain stupid?” By now, she was right upon the man, and the anxious thought dawned on her again that he might be a spy, trying to lead the soldiers to their camp.

“Do you want to be killed? Or have the blood of many innocent civilians on your hands?” She didn’t quite think anyone would be running into the woods after her to back her up. If anything, they might’ve gathered everyone up once spotting the man’s signals and had begun to make a run for it. She would have to bluff on her own.

“I suggest you stop right now before you lead anyone here who isn’t wanted here,” she warned sternly.

The words issuing angrily from the woods around him surprised Keane to no end. For a good minute, he was entirely certain that he had finally cracked under pressure and was being talked to by a disembodied voice. however, he chose still to indulge it in conversation, specifically in regards to the questions being asked. Without checking in any direction to find where to direct his voice he would calmly, yet forcefully vocate: "Absolutely. Absolutely not. Absolutely doesn't matter. Preferably not."

It was at this moment that he, with a start, would notice that a person, a quite real one at that, was directly next to him. He'd stare for a second or two, trying to fall back into his social mores. He'd then speak with an absolute drive. "I care not if I am your friend or if you are my foe. I significantly hope for the former, as I do not wish to spend the time and refreshments removing you from the path to my objective. I will fully accept any responsibility for bringing anyone here that we don't want. But the fact remains: one way or another, I must contact my dear allies in scholarship. If you have a better idea than I do, which I must unfortunately count as a possibility at the moment, I am all ears, otherwise, I must continue my search.

At this time, Keane would sit on a nearby rock and await an answer. Unfortunately, it had been a good while since he had any sort of rest, and he almost immediately fell into a deep sleep upon sitting. It took all of his willpower to remain awake and attentive, eyes staring forward.

It was with a wagging finger that the woman held out in front of her as she spoke to him that she wagged scornfully at him. Such a finger froze mid-wag when the man finally spoke. His words came out in a whirly-twirly mess of…

???

"Absolutely. Absolutely not. Absolutely doesn't matter. Preferably not." What?

Aya’s mouth molded into an expression of surprise and confusion. The man had truly lost it, she believed. Not even his answers made any sense, he spoke in riddles and circles. At least his point, if anything, seemed to be made clear; no harm was meant to her for this moment.

When the man turned to look at her, she saw his own surprise. Maybe he wasn’t as loopy as she’d first assumed. Her hands lowered to her sides again and she listened to his explanation. She was sure they didn’t have much time. If any of the soldiers had seen his signals in the sky, they’d be on them in no time. Now in an accustomed hurry, she nodded swiftly and reached for him as if to persuade him to follow with her, and her words came out incredibly too fast.

“Surely you’re a Cizok citizen then, and you must follow me. Quickly, we haven’t much time. If it is people from the city you seek, you’ll surely find plenty and plenty more where I’m going to take you. Perhaps they’re already there, awaiting your arrival. But we must go now,” she urged. “We must go, and we must go now. Now, now, now!”

Her urgency wasn’t just for the fear that the soldiers might have seen his signal—or heard the ruckus he created—but also for the fact that if the people back at the camp had seen his signal and had decided to make a run for it, they’d be well on their way and the two of them would have to hurry to catch up. Either way, she had to let them know that it was a false alarm. The camp might not have been ‘hers’, but she felt she owed them, at the very least, what little comfort she could bring with her news.

It took a minute for the words the woman in front of him was saying to click in his head in his restless mind. Thereafter, a lucid state was brought upon him. Now having a purpose again, his mind threw the need of resting aside as a secondary priority and snapped into gear. He had a small fire going at that moment, so he would pull out a water container and splash the embers. He would then get up, brush the dirt off of his robes, straighten his lensless glasses and hair and say with a grin: "Good idea."

Happy to have found any sort of productive solution, Keane was more than happy to oblige and run along in the direction of camp. At this time, he would begin a salvo of questions, mostly unintelligible, ranging from descriptions of the people he was looking for to the topography around their destination. Frustrated with himself both for currently not making sense and his for dreadful behavior to the forest, he would start cursing at himself in the secret language he and his student's had developed long ago. He would simply finish with a quick but heartfelt "I'm sorry."

It figured that someone such as this man would be delivered to her doorstep, so to speak. With a silent, yet sarcastic ‘thanks’ to her father, Aya smiled and watched the man and his lens-less glasses as he extinguished the small flame. She supposed if they were going to be doing any kind of overthrowing, that they would need every able person they could gather. She didn’t fancy herself a Revolutionary by any means, but she’d be damned if she allowed such horrific things to unfold right before her eyes and not even lift a finger to try and stop it, to make it right again.

This powerful conviction of hers could be heard in the very way she spoke, the tone she held. Could be noticed in the very eyes she saw with, their striking color bearing a much comforting resemblance to her late father’s eyes, rest his soul. It was with these eyes, this voice that she orchestrated the moment now with this stranger who may or may not have lost his mind since Day Three.

Once they were off and heading in the direction of where she last left the camp, Aya’s feet seemed to glide over the soil they crossed. By now she’d come to know these paths she had made so well that even in the darkest of nights she would be able to find her way. Leading the way, she hardly took any notice to the unintelligible string of questions that were tossed her way. To every one question the man asked, she answered with a quiet but polite, “We shall see, we shall see.” For it was all she could offer him for the time being.

Disregarding the agitation in the man’s voice when he spoke gibberish once again, Ayameko kept her eyes ahead, watching for movement and searching for signs of the camp as she always did during trips like this. At his apology, she frowned to herself. Partly because was she not entirely clear what he was apologizing for, but also because truthfully, she always hated it when people apologized, she just couldn’t bear the vulnerable sincerity in their voice at those words—and his seemed to be drenched in it.

A quiet rush of relief coursed through her veins when she spotted the familiar makeshift shelters of their most recent camp up ahead. They hadn’t fled after all; but she wasn’t able to decide yet if that had been a good thing or a bad thing. Was the camp still perfectly intact because no one inhabited it anymore? Had it been kept this way as a trap by the soldiers for unsuspecting civilians to stumble upon? She felt the anxious dread seep into her then like a slow-moving poison and quietly crossed herself for having been away from the camp for such a long period of time on this trip into the woods.

Although the edges of the camp were in sight, they still had a little bit of a ways ahead of them.

Keane looked at the jury-rigged buildings that formed the camp and grimaced, recognizing it as another step in the possible downfall of Cizok. The whole thing cast a dim shadow over his hopes for the eventual revitalization of his homeland. Unfortunately though, while these depressing thoughts were bad enough, things would get worse as Keane would catch his foot on a root and minorly twist his ankle. It wasn't a grievous injury, but it would decrease his unaided running speed.

Without a word, he would pull out a container of water and remove the stopper. He'd point the opening at one of the sturdy branches of a nearby tree, and with the force of a fire hose, a stream of water would launch out and strike in two places, breaking off a sturdy, roughly four foot long section and then retreat back into the container. Putting the container away, Keane would limp over to the fallen branch and pick it up to use as a walking stick. He would then start back in the direction of the camp at a speed not significantly lower than if he was in full health.

It was with a much lighter heart and a soothed soul that Aya spotted movement ahead in the camp. Such an irrational joy overcame her that she almost felt like crying out in triumph—though no real victory had been made, yet—and make a sprinting break for the camp. Taking the reins to her excitement and jerking abruptly, the woman slowed in her pace when she no longer heard the man directly behind her as he had been for the whole way up until this point.

When she turned to look at him, he’d already used a forceful stream of water from a container to break off a section of a tree, which he then made into use a walking stick. An idle nod was given before she turned back into the direction of the camp and proceeded a bit slower in pace this time, providing her travel partner with some space and time for his hurting leg.

As the two neared the camp site they were first greeted by the handful of men who had first organized the camp when the citizens fled the city’s walls. Once greeted by the welcoming committee, they approached the newcomer with such phrases as ‘So glad you were able to find your way’, ‘Long live the idea of a glorious, untainted Cizok’, and ‘Will you be joining us in our movement?’ All these phrases and questions thrown to the new man, Ayameko only gave a thoughtful half-smirk; she remembered most of the men being greeted like this, whereas the women and children were just welcomed and tended to.

A busy buzzing of people moving about, tending to their own duties and such for another day in the camp. There were women who cooked and gathered things such as supplies and anything that could be used for rations. Men could be seen huddling in the most random places, discussing and plotting. Some could be seen practicing any battle moves they might need in the future. Children giggled and chased each other around, their cheeks stained black with dried mud and whatever else they’d been able to get themselves into.

After the group of people that had greeted them left them to their business again and continued forth with carrying out their day, Aya turned to her newest arrival and began asking the basic, foundation questions. “What is your name? What did you do in Cizok?”

Keane, glad to see some type of civilzation out in the woods, answered everyone's questions and comments happily, even the ones that expected no answer and the ones asked by peple who had already milled off in another direction. Afterwards, already feeling much better and having no more real reason to run, he would toss away the impromptu walking tick and move at his reduced pace through the camp.

In stark contrast to the makeshift housing he'd seen earlier, he now found people, laughing, working ad thriving even in such harsh times. This steeled his resolve in thinking that the nation could heal itself quite well, even without any help from Keane. However, as long as that help was available, Keane was happy to provide.

Keane would turn back towards the young woman in time to hear her questions, to which he had formed a stock response. He would bow in decidedly Algerothian fashion before her. As he got back up, he would reach into his dark blue robes, now slightly sullied with dirt, and reveal a slightly bent business card and a rolled-up flyer, both extolling the virtues of study and describing Keane's profession. This took both sides on the business card. He would hand them both to the young woman and say: "Read whichever one you prefer, or both if you are feeling ambitious.

"I am Professor Keane Sigmund of Cizok. As to what I am doing in Cizok currently, the answer was vacation a small while ago, but has now grown to be fighting on the akinai fishing docks and in the infamous Day Three battle, as well as recruiting and exploring business opportunities for my school of elemental magical arts, aiding the revolution and searching for the sole five students of said school." Having finished his monologue, Keane would catch his breath.

Ayameko watched as the man bowed before her, something she wouldn’t have expected or deemed customary for trying times like these, but she offered him a smile in return still and extended a hand to receive his card when it had been given to her. Scanning the front side quickly and then flipping it to its reverse and scanning that side as well, she listened quietly to the professor’s story and his background in Cizok.

During his story Aya remembered when she was a young girl, and how she used to investigate and background stories of everyone she met through her father. She fancied herself some kind of detective in those days and sought out the information that would answer her unspoken questions about the person. For as far back as she could remember, she always enjoyed the stories and history of one’s life and travels.

After the professor’s introduction, she picked up where he left off, gently turning the business card between her fingertips. “Nice to meet you Professor Keane Sigmund of Cizok. My name is Ayameko Misaki of Cizok, but I’d much prefer you just call me Aya, please.”

Backtracking through his story, she noted upon something she thought worth bringing up again. “Such a shame that all of this had to happen while you were on your vacation, much less that now you have missing students that you’re worried about.” She began to shake her head slowly as if in disappointment, “I don’t know if you’ll find the people you seek here but, we’re receiving new arrivals all the time and there are already a nice handful of citizens here. It wouldn’t hurt to have a look around…”

She was about to continue on and reveal to him a piece of a rumor she’d come across in her days so far at the camp, but something mentioned in his introduction made a much belated dawning in her mind. A revolution? How would he have known of any such a thing? Nothing had been talked of out loud so far as she knew. Even now in the earliest of its stages, she believed that only the men in her camp had been quietly murmuring over the idea of something along those lines! Did this mean that the rumor she’d been ready to disclose to him was true? Before now, she hadn’t believed it personally, but had allowed it to flicker in the back of her mind as a means to help keep hope alive.

Then, as was to be expected when it came to her thoughts—the skepticism and suspicions that bloomed in her head. Was he a spy after all? Planting seeds of hope in their heads and getting them all riled up for failure? She sighed lightly. Damn her thoughts!

Still fidgeting with the card between her fingers, Aya looked to the professor and her expression wrinkled. “You shouldn’t speak so openly and thoughtlessly about some things, Professor. You might get people’s hopes up, or find yourself on the receiving end of something very, very bad” she whispered quietly.

Keane would look rather disapprovingly at the young woman's comment and reply intensely with a piece of wisdom collected in his many travels and years. "In my experience, in this sort of situation, there is no such thing as getting people's hopes up. Anything that provides hope to the people makes them that much more difficult to subjugate. Anything that incites that little spark of passion in the people can greatly increase their chances of livlihood.

"Furthermore, as to recieving something 'very bad', that something has always been on the way. And there comes a time when all must admit it's time to stop running, or at least stop hiding. A dark shadow looms above us, threatening our very lives. The light of hope and order is all that can pierce it. If you wish to flee, that is fine, but where does it stop? Would you leave the city to avoid that shadow?" Done rambling, Professor Keane would adopt a soothed mannerism, happy to get that admonishment out.

Scanning the crowd for his lost friends with his calm grin, he would speak finally: "Nice to meet you Aya."

She still wasn’t completely sure how to take the man she’d just recently exchanged introductions with. On the surface, he seemed down right mad—and it wasn’t the angry type, either. However, as she’d learned from her father growing up, wasn’t there very well, and rightly so, a spark of true light coming from within him? A sort of knowledge and goodness that she couldn’t look past. If every person was good in their core, then shouldn’t a man who seemed good on the outside be just that much better within? His talk of revolutions had her head spinning, though, and she wasn’t ready for such a thing. She tried to ground herself, remind herself that no one in the camp had started speaking of such things yet.

“All I’m saying, Professor, is that no matter how wise you may seem it is not wise to run around a camp such as this and declare things such as revolutions” she continued in her soft tone, almost a whisper. “Such…things have not been mentioned aloud here yet, though it seems the idea of one could be on the tip of everyone’s tongues.” She glanced around before continuing again, “I will not run, I can assure you that, but I will not throw the lives of everyone here right out into the open, right under the feet of the soldiers.”

“Professor,” she began and then at once hesitated, unsure that if he was in fact some kind of spy, if her next question would give her intentions away for sure. “If I may…what made you think anything about a…revolution? What have you heard? If anything. Is there something you know?”

“I ask because, well…there have been rumors going around the camp” by now she had made her way over to one of the small fires the camp had going. She seated herself lightly at the edge of the fire on a large log that had been dragged from somewhere in the woods and placed here as a means for sitting. Once on the log, Aya took the business card that still rested in her hands and began to bend the tiny corners methodically.

“Rumors of…well, other camps, such as this one. Scattered through the woods. I have seen no other camps myself when I’ve been in the woods, but the rumors continue. I didn’t believe the rumors personally, I figured our camp was the only one and I just shrugged it off, you know? Let the people have their hope, and I’ll have mine. But now…do you know anything about them? Maybe the people you search for are there and not here.”

After hearing Aya's rebuttal, Keane could do little else but reply with a sigh: "No, you're right. I should go no further into detail, and I swear I will speak no more of it in mixed company. You asked who I was and I did nothing but answer honestly. Truth be told, I only argued for the sake of arguing, as it has been a good deal of time since I've had a good argument. But I can tell you that this is not the only camp if I have my facts straight."

The professor would immediately pull out a disheveled notebook and worn pencil, then begin jotting down features of the terrain around the camp. "I have been thinking, and perhaps my signal did attract unwanted attention. i am not certain, but in these situations, it always helps to prepare for the worst case scenario. This brings me to one question of monumental importance. Is there a lake or river nearby? If there is, then I can defend us against an army. And if worse comes to worse, i think an army is exactly what will be coming."

Immediately after winning her argument and hearing the professor confirm that she was right in what she said, Aya felt her cheeks flush red. “I apologize as well; I didn’t mean to come off so…strongly in my words.” She could prove to be a little too passionate in her convictions at times it seemed. So much so that she might push her point until the person she argued with was just forced to agree. In fact, maybe that is exactly what had happened in this case, she couldn’t be sure. “My father always said he thought it was good that I spoke with such strong opinions and arguments, in fact he raised me as such. But sometimes I think that he wished he would’ve taught me to bite my tongue at times.”

At his mention of other camps, she almost cut him off straight away but, remembering what she’d just said a moment prior; she held her tongue. Poor man, she thought. Maybe he wasn’t absolutely batty like she’d thought before, but he certainly wasn’t correct about this. There were no other camps, she had to keep herself reminded of that else her hopes might cloud her judgments. She didn’t know what the other people thought, where their beliefs stood, but she had to remain realistic about this. The realistic side of these things was that there were no other camps. After the professor spoke of the other camps and his confidence that they existed, Aya turned her unusual eyes to the flame. The rest of his words faded into the distance from her mind.

Something or other about rivers, lakes, and armies. In the moment, she couldn’t bring herself to hear of such things and strategies and plans. It was all that the men had been doing since they first got here, and she didn’t want the professor’s new views to change anything, make any of their routines different from what they had been since this all started.

“Professor,” she said finally, long after the man had finished speaking, “If anything comes, we’re going to do the exact same as what we’ve been doing when unwanted company arrives” she removed her eyes from the fire and looked at him. Her eyes burned with a type of certainty and tightened as though with them she stood her very ground.

“We will abandon this camp and move further into the woods. We will run from here and head for safer areas. We have people set up just to keep an eye out on our perimeter and to warn us so we have time to escape. We’ve got everything planned out, but we must run if something comes, not stay and fight—not here. This is not our place, we hold no advantage here. This is not the place for our fight, if a fight is what it comes to.

We will move from this camp and deeper into the woods, like I said, as we’ve done before, and we will set up camp again, keeping everyone out of harm’s way. That is our only option for now.”