Stories and Book Talk

Author: Elly in Nairobi

  • Theria Guild Guardian: Code and Courage – 5

    Theria Guild Guardian: Code and Courage – 5

    Zev’s work at the Village Center on voting day felt straightforward. He answered questions from voters, explaining how to use the voting machine, and shuttled bottles of water to other volunteers. In between, he coordinated with security to keep order in the lines.

    During a trip to the supply room, he noticed the metal shelf holding water bottles wobble precariously. With a sigh, he grabbed a power drill, an electric screwdriver, and extra bolts from the adjacent tool rack. Crawling beneath the shelf, he tightened the bolts until it felt secure.

    Just as he finished with the last screw, something jostled his left leg. “Who’s there?” he called out, voice echoing under the shelf.

    No answer came, so he muttered a soft curse, made sure the bolts were firm, and inched out, only to bang his head on the corner above. Rubbing his temple, he scowled when he emerged to find Jiru, the son of Malachi, the Village Head, leaning against the worktable.

    Jiru was a puzzle: never entirely friend, never quite foe. He sat perched on the table that held a basket of bread buns destined for the voting hall staff, his polished black boots propped on the only chair. His hair, styled in a precise box cut, only added to the self-assured aura that Zev found vaguely irritating.

    “What?” Zev asked, still rubbing the sting on his forehead.

    Jiru grinned. “Word is you’re set to join Santi Corp’s apprenticeship at the Swala Oasis,” he said. His tone hovered between genuine curiosity and veiled mockery.

    Zev stood, returned the screwdriver to its case, and stretched, ignoring Jiru’s stare. “You sound interested,” he said, only half-joking. “Thinking of applying yourself?”

    “No,” Jiru replied flatly. “Will you see the Theria Guild cadets while you’re there?”

    Zev dropped his arms at his sides and leaned on the tool shelf.

    “No, actually,” Zev said. “All I saw when I visited for registration was their transport vehicles.”

    “That’s a shame. I’d go find them if I were you,” Jiru said, his tone smug.

    Zev sighed. The conversation was typical Jiru, vaguely smug, perpetually needling. Without another word, Zev picked up the basket of bread buns he needed to deliver. He headed for the door, not bothering to hide his annoyance when Jiru followed.

    Outside, the sun shone brightly on the lines of voters milling about. Many families waited with children, and the tension of the day mixed with a polite hum of conversation. Zev felt a flicker of gratitude knowing his mother and father had cast their votes. His younger brothers would be safe at home soon, and Amare, who couldn’t vote yet, was helping watch the children in a nearby center. His parents were somewhere on the ‘M’ line.

    Amare could not vote yet, so she had to be watching his brothers in the children’s center. The playground at the children’s center allowed kids to play football. He, too, loved the field behind the children’s center. He and Weru sometimes played when they had time. They hadn’t been able to play of late, too busy planning the future.

    “I bumped into your sister earlier,” Jiru said conversationally. “She’s volunteering at the children’s center. I hear she wants to enter the Education Class. My father’s got connections, you know. I could talk to him, help her secure a spot.”

    Zev’s grip on the bread basket tightened. “Amare can qualify on her own.”

    “Sure,” Jiru said, giving Zev a sideways glance. “But I’m always happy to help a pretty girl. Maybe she’ll appreciate it more than you do.”

    That was too much. Zev stopped abruptly, swinging around to face him. Jiru was two years older—nineteen to Zev’s seventeen—and his interest in fifteen-year-old Amare set Zev’s nerves on edge.

    “Leave my sister alone,” Zev said, trying hard to keep his voice low. “She’s not someone you can toy with.”

    Jiru’s grin widened, unperturbed. “Make me.”

    Rage coiled in Zev’s chest, and he nearly spat out a retort when Malachi’s voice boomed from across the hall. Zev forced himself to step back. He found Malachi waving him over to the staff refreshments area. Casting one last glare at Jiru, Zev followed Malachi.

    “Finished with the store?” Malachi asked, stopping by a long table covered with bottles of water and paper cups.

    “Yes. I even secured the shaky shelf,” Zev said, setting the basket of bread buns among the drinks.

    Malachi checked his watch. “Your parents left a while ago. They took your brothers home and asked Amare to stay and help. It’s nearly four. Hand me your token card so I can log your hours. Then you can pick up Amare and head home.”

    Zev fished a small rectangular card from his pocket. Malachi swiped it against a device linked to his phone, nodded at the beep, and handed it back. A quick thumb scan confirmed his new total of four thousand tokens, enough for the next tablet upgrade.

    “Thanks,” Zev said, flashing a grateful smile.

    Malachi returned the smile. “You’ve done good work here, Zev. I know Jiru can be difficult, but try to be patient. He wants to be your friend.”

    Zev said nothing. He didn’t trust Jiru’s motives, but Malachi was oblivious to his son’s bullying. Changing the subject, Zev gestured toward the exit. “I’ll go meet Amare now.”

    “Go ahead,” Malachi said, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’ll call you if we need more help.”

    Zev snagged two bread buns from the basket and headed out, crossing the street to the children’s center. A short while later, he found Amare guiding a group of boisterous kids in a painting session. He lingered at the door, finishing one bun in swift bites as he watched her gently correct a child on using a brush. When she saw him, her eyes lit up with excitement.

    “Want to help?” she teased. “When’s the last time you played with paint?”

    He grinned, washed his hands in the corner sink, and joined a table of enthusiastic six-year-olds. They giggled riotously whenever Amare threatened to dab green paint on Zev’s hair. By the end of it, he had a streak of teal running across his left eyebrow.

    When the day wound down, brother and sister left the children’s center and started home at a comfortable pace. Zev carried Amare’s paint supply bag in addition to his own worn book bag. She chattered happily about the joys of teaching small children.

    “So, are you still going to run the Pink Piggy if you join Santi Corp?” Amare asked. “Mom mentioned that you might open a real shop one day.”

    Zev hesitated, memories of his mother’s advice mingling with a creeping anxiety about Santi Corp’s strict policies. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “If I work for Santi, all tech I develop might belong to them.”

    “I think a real Pink Piggy store would be so cool,” Amare said earnestly. “You help so many people with your code, imagine turning our entire village into a place full of your gadgets.”

    He snorted. “You’re too biased,” he said.

    She laughed. “I’m your sister. I have to be biased.”

    A burst of engine noise interrupted them. A motorcycle sped by, stirring a swirling cloud of dust. Zev instinctively maneuvered Amare to his far side to shield her. They were five minutes from home when a siren screamed across the village, loud and ominous.

    Zev looked toward the Village Center. Dark clouds gathered above the rooftops, and jagged lightning ripped across the sky. Thunder rumbled in quick succession.

    Amare went rigid. Zev seized her hand. “We have to run,” he urged, his voice tense. He broke into a sprint, half dragging her down the road. She stumbled several times, but each time he steadied her, and they kept going.

    As they neared home, a convoy of black Theria Guild vehicles roared past on the main road, heading toward the swirling storm clouds. Panic flared in Zev’s chest. No time to wonder what exactly was happening, only that it was terrible.

    They dashed through the open gate of their compound.

    Zev pushed his sister into the house. Amare collapsed just inside, breathless and terrified. Zev dropped their bags by her side and hurried deeper into the house, calling for his brothers.

    “Grey! Silas! Mama, Baba?” He checked the time on the kitchen’s digital clock. Five o’clock. His parents should have been home by now. His heart hammered even harder when he found every room empty.

    Getting his cell phone from his pocket, he paused in the corridor when he found a message from his mother. His parents had dropped the boys at their neighbor’s house. His mother needed to return to the conservancy center, and his father was meeting a supplier in the next town. Zev and Amare were to pick up the boys from Gen’s house. Zev shut his eyes, fighting back a wave of dread.

    He wished he had checked his phone earlier. Running back to the living room, he found Amare had gotten up, though she was clearly shaky.

    “They’re not here?” Amare asked, her voice trembling.

    “No. Grey and Silas are at Gen’s.” He opened a closet in the living room, removing a heavy jacket lined with a fine mesh of silver netting. Sliding it on, he winced at the weight, but it was their only real defense against a ghost wraith’s bite. Next, he grabbed a small axe stored in the same closet.

    Amare shook her head, tears pricking her eyes. “You can’t go out there. It’s too dangerous!”

    “I have to,” Zev said grimly. “Our brothers are out there. Mama and Baba aren’t back, so it’s up to me. You stay here in case Grey and Silas come home on their own and I miss them.”

    She hurried to retrieve a jacket, too. She struggled to wear the heavy jacket, so Zev helped her zip the coat, hoping it would protect her if something breached the house. Then he pulled her into a quick hug.

    “I’ll be back soon,” he promised. “Keep the door locked and watch for the boys if they show up first.”

    Amare wiped her cheeks, nodding despite the terror in her eyes. Zev grabbed the axe and stepped outside, activating the silver security net. An electric crackle rippled over the roof, forming a protective barrier around the house.

    Screams echoed from the direction of the Village Center. Dark acrid smoke billowed beyond the treetops. Zev swallowed hard, hoping his parents had found shelter somewhere. Right now, all that mattered was Grey and Silas.

    He ran, lungs burning, turning onto the main road. He turned left toward the Village Center.

    Gen was a family friend, and she had a son the same age as Grey. The boys liked playing together, so their mom often left Grey and Silas at Gen’s house.

    Gen’s house was only five minutes away, but each second felt like an eternity. Zev ran like a madman, ignoring the growing screams in the neighborhood.

    As he approached her gate, the sound of something massive striking stone made his blood run cold. A bloodcurdling scream came from Gen’s compound.

    Heart pounding, Zev rushed through the open gate and froze in horror. The cottage roof had a gaping hole, the walls collapsed in a jagged crack. Standing amid the rubble was the largest ghost wraith Zev had ever seen, nearly as tall as the cottage itself. Its slick black skin rippled like oily tar, and a long spiky tail flicked behind it in agitation.

    Before Zev could act, the beast turned to him, revealing a mouth streaked with blood. Its jagged teeth glistened under the storm-dark sky, and a thunderous roar tore through the air. Fear clutched at Zev’s throat.

    Then he saw Gen, desperately swinging a broken lampshade at a second wraith. Blood stained her blouse, and she screamed in pain as it lunged at her. She frantically hurled a chair at its head, then caught sight of Zev.

    “Zev!” she choked out, voice trembling. “The kids… they’re in…”

    Her words died as the second wraith clamped down on her shoulder, silencing her scream. In one horrifying moment, both wraiths descended on her.

    An anguished cry tore from Zev’s lips, but all he could do was watch, helpless, as the creatures ripped into the woman who had been like an aunt to him. Fury swallowed his fear, and he gripped the axe so tightly that his knuckles ached. Adrenaline pulsed through him like lightning.

    He sprinted toward the house, unthinking, determined to reach Gen, or what was left of her, and to find his brothers. If the wraiths killed him in the attempt, so be it. He would not stand by and watch.

    <<Previous | TOC | Next>>

  • Theria Guild Guardian: Code and Courage – 4

    Theria Guild Guardian: Code and Courage – 4

    On voting day, the sun rose with a bright, insistent heat. Zev was among the first in the household to wake, dressing in comfortable clothes before stepping into the kitchen. Elina was already there, her movements brisk as she prepared breakfast. She placed a steaming mug of milk tea before him, along with two slices of toasted brown bread and a serving of scrambled eggs.

    She paused in her work, turning to watch as Zev sipped his tea and eyed the fresh vegetables she had lined up for lunch. “Yes, Zev?” she asked quietly, noticing the thoughtful expression on his face.

    “Are you really against me taking that apprenticeship at Santi Corp?” he asked, careful to keep his tone even.

    Elina dried her hands on a worn kitchen cloth. Setting it aside, she pulled out the chair beside him and sat. “I have my reservations about a company so big it’s become a fixture in every home in Afrotheria,” she said, resting a gentle hand on Zev’s shoulder. “They provide so many jobs, but it’s hard not to worry about the influence they wield. Still, I know how gifted you are with technology. I believe the apprenticeship could help you grow your talents.”

    She offered a small, wavering smile. “All I ask is that you keep some of your energy for yourself. Don’t pour every waking moment into Santi. You already have your Pink Piggy venture in the Luna VR world, maybe someday you’ll create your own real-life tech company. One that helps ordinary people afford what they need.”

    Zev nodded. “You’re right. Maybe once I graduate, I can develop Pink Piggy into a real store.” His lips curved into a shy grin. “Although I’m not sure you’d enjoy shopping at a place called ‘Pink Piggy1.’”

    Elina laughed softly. “I’d go if you owned it, but do consider changing the name,” she teased. “Meanwhile, I’ll trust you to make the best decision for yourself.”

    Her gaze shifted to the hallway, where the faint sounds of his siblings stirring could be heard.

    “As for Grey… we’ll just have to hope he changes his mind about wanting to be a Guardian. You know how children are, they see the armor and the weapons, and it seems exciting.”

    “It’s definitely not an easy life,” Zev said, finishing the last of his toast. “But you never know, maybe he’ll find something else to love.”

    Elina brushed her hand over Zev’s short hair. “When you were his age, you wanted to work in the village greenhouses,” she reminded him. “Look at you now, leaning toward a future in code. People change as they grow, and priorities shift with time. One thing that will never change, though,” her smile deepened, “is how proud I am of you, Zev.”
    He returned her smile.

    As she leaned in for a warm hug, he caught a faint hint of lavender from the soap she used to wash the vegetables.

    “Eat up,” Elina said, rising from the table. “Malachi from the Village Center called earlier to confirm your schedule. Voting starts at eight, but he wants all volunteers on-site by seven. You have half an hour to get there.”

    Zev drained the rest of his tea and hurried to his room to grab his backpack. After a quick goodbye, he jogged out of the house and out of their compound.

    The Village Center lay about fifteen minutes to the east, a route he could cover in ten if he pushed his pace. The academy he attended with Amare was ten minutes from his house to the west of the main road.

    As Zev emerged from his home street and joined the main road heading east to the Village Center, he hoped his apprenticeship at Santi Corp would be as exciting as he imagined.

    Dalia gazed at the glowing voting console in front of her, scrolling through the list of candidates vying for Elderon. She frowned at her father’s name, Izra Taj, paired with his running mate, Kakura Jafar.

    For a fleeting, rebellious instant, she considered selecting the opposition. She was certain that if Izra won, her life at KISTech, and everywhere else, would never be the same. Already, people looked at her differently, and she dreaded the added scrutiny that would come once “Elderon Taj” became reality.

    Yet her parents’ voices echoed in her mind. Family comes first, her father always said. When one member of the family wins, we all win, her mother echoed.

    Dalia exhaled, tapped the tick box next to her father’s name, and signed her name with a digital stylus. The console verified her signature, and she could practically feel the cameras clicking from behind.

    Slipping out of the booth, she forced a quick smile when a photographer captured her exit. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, but she resisted the urge to check it just yet. The city center hall was bustling with voters, each queued according to last name at fifty identical booths. She spotted her best friend in line at the “D” section, and he waved cheerfully. She tried to wave back, but a voice behind her broke through the noise.

    “Dalia,” her mother, Sophina, called out.

    Turning, Dalia found her parents waiting for her by the exit. Her father was careful not to greet or smile at anyone in the hall. He watched Dalia with expectation, his arm tucked around Sophina’s waist. He refused to engage with passersby, no doubt wary of what anything he said or did might imply on such a pivotal day.

    “All set?” Sophina asked as Dalia approached.

    “I am,” Dalia confirmed, ready to head home.

    “Then let’s leave,” Sophina said gently.

    Izra started to mention monitoring the voting progress on the overhead screens (an open feed that tracked the tallies in real time), but Sophina cut him off. “No, love. You’ve done all you can. Today is for family. We’ll head back to the hotel, have a good meal, maybe watch something mindless or take a swim. But no more talk of politics.”

    Dalia couldn’t help smiling when Izra took a moment to process the command, then nodded in agreement, rubbing his stomach with a rueful grin. “I am starving,” he admitted.

    Sophina’s lips curved with triumph. “I’m always right,” she said, reaching for Dalia’s hand to guide her swiftly through the exit.

    They navigated the crowd, ignoring the curious stares and whispered conversations that inevitably trailed them.

    Outside, a black armored vehicle waited: a government-issued ride for Elderon candidates. Afrotheria was generally peaceful, but zealots existed in all nations, and Izra had received a disturbing number of threats in the past week.

    Once inside the cool, tinted interior, Dalia finally checked her phone. As expected, there was a new notification showing a photograph of her stepping out of the voting booth. The caption noted her simple, “utilitarian” style: her white trouser suit and low-heeled shoes. She was dressed in a white trouser suit, her braids in a tight ponytail. She had tried to look conservative, even worn flat shoes.

    “Taj’s only daughter at the polls looking utilitarian. She’s one to watch even as we wait for voting results.”

    Her stomach twisted at the thought. She missed the days of anonymity, when she could bury herself in research, code, and the potential support from the Pink Piggy’s program. Now every move, every outfit, seemed subject to public scrutiny.

    She turned off her screen and shoved the phone into her bag, leaning back against the seat. If her father lost, she could slip into obscurity again, free to focus on the next stage of her project at KISTech. If he won… She pulled in a steadying breath. If he won, there would be no escaping the spotlight, no simple return to the quiet life she loved.

    Her mind drifted to the Pink Piggy. Had he cast his vote yet? Would he choose Izra Taj for Elderon, or would he scoff at the idea, the same way he seemed to mock everything else? She almost laughed at the thought of that mysterious coder standing in line at a polling station.

    The hum of the armored vehicle rumbled beneath her feet, but her thoughts were filled with the Pink Piggy’s tarp stall and a logo of a grinning pink pig. With a sigh, she reminded herself that she needed his decision on that code, no matter how the election turned out.

    <<Previous | TOC | Next>>

    1. The Pink Piggy is the online venture and avatar of Zev Mablevi within the Luna VR world. Zev’s avatar for this venture is known as the “Pink Piggy”. He wears a signature pink pig’s head mask and a uniform of black slacks, a plain white T-shirt under a black vest, and combat boots. His virtual shop in the Luna VR marketplace is distinctive, built with black tarp and marked only by a pink pig’s head above its entrance. ↩︎
  • 3 Manga With That Shōjo Toxic Love We Love To Read

    3 Manga With That Shōjo Toxic Love We Love To Read

    Some days you want wholesome fluff; other days you crave a hero who’d burn the world for his girl—then ask if she’s eaten yet. If you’ve been missing the delicious drama of Unhinged heroes, buckle in. I’ve unearthed three titles that deliver that “this-is-so-wrong-but-I-can’t-stop” adrenaline hit: Firefly Wedding (Vol. 1–3), Yakuza Fiancé, and Yakuza Lover. Grab your emotional popcorn.

    It’s been a beat since Hana Yori Dango, so it’s always fun to uncover interesting manga with that toxic love energy that we all love to hate, but actually love to read about, and I feel like I’ve unearthed three titles that fit right in to this trope. Either way, when the hero says, ‘I think people who hurt my wife should be erased from the world.’ We’re there for it. It’s the love for that totally unhinged hero who is totally crazy to read on the page, but we all refuse to meet in real life. So, let’s jump in!

    Firefly Wedding (Hotaru no Yomeiri) by Oreco Tachibana

    Firefly Wedding Volume 1

    On the surface, Satoko has it all—she’s beautiful, the daughter of a nobleman, and at a prime age for marriage. Unfortunately, she is also quite ill and only has a short time left to live. Before she can secure a marriage that will redeem her worth in her family’s eyes, she finds herself the target of the mysterious assassin Shinpei, and her plans are put in jeopardy. In order to save herself, she makes a desperate proposal—of marriage! When it comes to love, however, Shinpei takes “until death do we part” seriously.

    Why it clicks: Satoko has a weak heart, but she has a strong will and does all she can to survive in the face of unprecedented danger.
    Read if you like: damsels-in-distress, instant “I love you” demands.
    Age : Firefly Wedding is marked ‘Teen Plus’ 17+

    Yakuza Fiance (Raise wa Tanin ga Ii) by Asuka Konishi

    Yakuza Fiance Volume 3

    In this critically acclaimed romantic crime drama, a yakuza granddaughter is sent from Osaka to marry the grandson of a rival family in Tokyo.

    Yoshino grew up the sheltered yakuza princess of the largest crime family in Osaka, the Somei. Due to her resting bitch face and dangerous family, no man has ever approached her. When her grandfather signs a truce with the Tokyo-based Miyama crime family, he offers her up as a truce bride to the Miyama leader’s grandson! Kirishima Miyama is popular, charming, and seems totally normal.

    But behind his smile is a violent sadomasochist who thirsts for her dominance even more when she impresses him with her moxie! Even though she knows how bad yakuza can be, she’s stunned by Miyama’s viciousness. She can’t turn him down with the East-West peace treaty on the line…so instead she steels herself to play ball!

    What it is: A political engagement between rival crime families, think Romeo and Juliet with more knives and fewer apologies.
    Why it clicks: Both leads are terrifyingly competent in their own dark ways, so the relationship feels like two predators pacing the same cage.
    Read if you like: power couples who treat threats as foreplay, strategic marriage pacts, heroines who can shoot straight.
    Age: Yakuza Fiance is rated Teen Plus 17+

    Yakuza Lover by Nozomi Mino

    Yakuza Lover volume books

    When feisty college student Yuri is attacked at a party, she’s saved by Toshiomi Oya, the underboss of a yakuza syndicate. Despite her obvious attraction to him, she convinces herself that she’s not in the market for a bad boy type. But when they meet again, she finds herself irresistibly drawn to him—kicking off a steamy and dangerous love affair that threatens to consume her, body and soul.

    What it is: A college girl meets a Yakuza boss during a brawl and tumbles into an all-consuming romance of silk kimonos, scarlet tattoos, and constant danger.
    Why it clicks: This is pure, high-octane fantasy: the heroine’s sweetness collides with the hero’s lethal devotion.
    Read if you like: possessive declarations, R-rated chemistry, “ride or die” loyalties that could actually get you killed.
    Age Rating: Yakuza Lover is rated Teen Plus 17+

    Toxic-But-Tempting: Why We Keep Turning Pages

    This trope is fascinating in that there is a thrill to reading danger on paper, as there is the perceived buffer that fiction creates a safe distance. However, any friend experiencing these things in real life, and we would be the first to seek help for them. So, red flags are not beautiful, cannot be sugar-coated, but we can say that we read them so that we can identify them in real life (Yes, we’re going with this to the end of that last chapter, don’t judge).

    There is the fantasy of absolute devotion. We can’t lie. There’s a serious guilty thrill in a hero who will raze down obstacles for love. We totally can’t resist an unhinged hero.

    At the end of the story, there is always growth potential. A well-written one will nudge the couples toward mutual respect, eventually.

    Your Turn

    Which “love-to-hate” manga has swallowed your weekend lately?

    Theria Guild Guardian: Code and Courage

  • Theria Guild Guardian: Code and Courage – 3

    Theria Guild Guardian: Code and Courage – 3

    In the Luna VR, the “He-Goat” Dalia had encountered removed his mask and gestured toward the closed door.

    “Who was she?” Waweru asked.

    Zev toggled a command, removing his Pink Piggy mask. The dingy stall vanished, replaced by a bustling virtual workroom where Zev developed custom code for his clients. Two large tables bore piles of tools and digital cards, some completed, others at various stages of programming.

    Waweru sometimes helped wrap up these projects, but Zev spent most of his spare time here alone.

    “Her user ID is ‘Dahlian.’ She wants permission to use code I uploaded to the KISTech database,” Zev said. “I’ve been upgrading it for weeks. I’m not sure if I should give her the version I posted initially or hand over what I’ve been working on now.”

    “The difference between us,” Waweru said, collapsing onto the couch opposite Zev’s worktable, “is that you won’t put it up for bidding in the Luna Marketplace. So, what did you want to show me?”

    Zev paused his tinkering with the greenhouse model he was designing for his sister, then pulled a digital card from the desk and passed it to Waweru.

    “What’s this?” Waweru asked, uploading the code into his own virtual console. He studied the lines of text for a few moments before his eyes brightened. “This is a framework for mapping and calculating gradients.”

    “I saw that soil-testing device you’ve been building,” Zev explained. “Not sure if you finished it, but this analysis framework will help architects figure out how best to develop that data. If you can’t fight your father about going to KISTech, you could focus on specialized construction apps there.”

    Waweru arched an eyebrow at him. “And you’re just giving this to me?”

    “I’m not enrolling in KISTech,” Zev said, leaning back in his chair. “I applied for an apprenticeship with Santi Corp, and the academy counselor messaged me today. I got in. That means I won’t have to move to Kirit.”

    Waweru let out a low whistle. “You’ll be more valuable than the rest of us stuck in KISTech. An apprenticeship with Santi Corp means you can really climb the ranks, Zev. Congratulations. I’ll miss you, though.”

    “Did you talk to your parents about switching classes?” Zev asked.

    “Ms. Leya helped me fill out the forms,” Waweru said, “and even wrote me a recommendation for Jenga Construction Technical University. But before I could bring it up at home, my dad handed me an envelope with a KISTech ID tag, an enrollment packet, and keys to a dorm I’m supposed to share with a family friend’s son. He’s already paid for the first year.”

    “Damn,” Zev muttered. “I’m sorry.”

    Waweru shrugged, holding up the digital card Zev had given him. “Thanks for this. I’ll put it to good use.”

    “It won’t be easy,” Zev warned. “All KISTech cares about is research on ghost wraiths, finding ways to fight or eradicate them. Every student ends up focused on ghost wraith projects. You sure you’ll be all right?”

    “I’ll manage,” Waweru said with a tight shake of his head. “Not like I have a choice.”

    Zev nodded. “I’ll miss you too. Won’t be the same without you at the next desk.”

    “We can still hang out here,” Waweru said, motioning around the virtual workshop. “Plenty of ways to call and message each other.”

    “True,” Zev said, smiling. “By the way, Dahlian really did pay five hundred credits just to get into this shop.”

    Waweru grinned. “Her outfit looked great, though. Five hundred credits is a tidy sum.”

    “That fee covered three months of our shop membership on Luna VR,” Zev said. “I was worried I’d have to downgrade to a private room soon.”

    “Think she’d chat with me?” Waweru teased. “She looked like she wouldn’t mind.”

    Before Zev could respond, a long beep echoed in his earpiece. “I need to go,” he said, quickly saving his greenhouse project. He stood, stretched his arms, and offered Waweru a parting grin. “See you at the village center tomorrow.”

    “Sure thing,” Waweru replied. “Meanwhile, I’ll see if Dahlian wants to chat.”

    Zev flashed a knowing smile and logged out. Removing his Luna VR visor, he tapped the monitor to confirm his logout. A green light blinked on the wall behind his setup, it was the household call signal. His sister was buzzing him.

    It meant his parents were home and looking for him. He pushed away from his desk, his stomach rumbling. Straightening the hem of his dark T-shirt over his gray sweatpants, he hurried out of his room in search of something to eat.

    The Mablevi home was neither lavish nor modest. Built in a ranch-style on an acre of land, it had grown alongside the family. When Zev was four and his sister, Amare, was just a baby, the house had two bedrooms, a kitchen, a shared bathroom, and a living room. Now, those rooms had expanded into a cluster of bedrooms for his younger siblings and a larger main living space that opened into a dining area.

    Zev headed down the long corridor toward the kitchen, pausing in the doorway when he found his father, Luca, engrossed in a story. Zev’s younger brothers sat on a bench, listening wide-eyed, while Amare was at the kitchen table peeling potatoes alongside their father.

    Their mother, Elina, stood at the counter, kneading dough.

    “And no one truly knows why Mount Njaro began spewing molten lava,” Luca was saying, his voice measured yet tinged with mystery. “But after the eruption came lightning and thunder, and when the skies finally cleared, the ghost wraiths appeared.”

    Zev’s thoughts wandered to Dahlian, the mysterious VR user who wanted code that might help end the ghost wraith menace. The wraiths were hulking, wolf-like terrors with slick, oily black skin in place of fur and razor-sharp teeth capable of shattering a human in one bite. They moved in packs, leaving devastation wherever they prowled. When the storm ended, so did the ghost wraiths, vanishing until they struck again.

    “It is said Afrotheria became a realm under siege,” Luca continued. “It’s been over a century since that first attack, and yet no permanent solution has emerged. The Sable Council, the empire’s highest authority, poured its resources into defenses for threatened provinces, small villages, and the capital itself.”

    He took a breath. “They bolstered the Protector Class to form the formidable Theria Guild,1 tasked with keeping every citizen safe.”
    Zev frowned, thinking of the men and women of the Theria Guild. They were hailed as heroes for battling ghost wraiths, yet many people still feared and avoided them. Because of this, Guardians often lived in specialized compounds known as oases, each named for the team stationed within.”

    “The Theria Guild is our greatest treasure,” Luca said, leaning in. “Those who survive endless battles advance in rank. The strongest and most fearsome join the Strike Force; the newest recruits start in the Swala Force.”

    “I’ll join the toughest oasis one day!” Silas, Zev’s youngest brother, piped up. Elina gasped.

    Zev bit back a laugh. Their mother would never want any of her children joining the Theria Guild. He glanced at Elina, who stood at the counter, clearly troubled by the idea.

    Grey, third-born of Luca’s children, glanced up from his seat, eyes bright with curiosity. “Has our village ever faced a reckoning?” he asked. A reckoning was the name locals used for a full-on encounter with a pack of ghost wraiths.

    Luca paused, exchanging a glance with his wife, Elina. A quiet remorse settled in his gaze. He continued peeling potatoes, although his grip on the peeler tightened. It was not unusual for him to help with chores; he often did so purely to see Elina’s appreciative smile.

    Amare, their second-born and only daughter, was nearly finished with her share of the potatoes. Grey and the youngest child, Silas, sat nearby, both listening closely. Yet Luca’s gaze drifted to his eldest, Zev, noticing the wary look in the young man’s eyes. Zev was old enough to recall their family’s own reckoning2; there was no sense of mystery or awe in his face, only the lingering memory of loss.

    Luca drew in a deep breath, steeling himself. He finished peeling the potato in his hand, placed it on the tray, and met Grey’s expectant stare.

    “You weren’t born when our village endured a reckoning,” Luca said. “Your mom and I had only Zev and Amare then. They stayed at home with my parents when the thunder and lightning came. The Strike Force Guardians happened to be running maneuvers nearby. They fought off the ghost wraiths and saved us.”

    “Not all of us,” Zev said softly, reminding Luca that the Guardians’ intervention had come at a grave cost.

    “You’re right,” Luca murmured. He looked down, recalling the stark pain of that day. Zev had been five at the time, Amare three. They both still remembered their grandparents with an ache that never faded.

    Luca set down his peeler and wiped his hands on a cloth. He squeezed Zev’s shoulder gently.

    “We lost your grandparents in that attack,” he told Grey and Silas. “We weren’t the only ones in the village to lose loved ones, but our home was spared. Not long after, the Theria Guild built a training oasis here in Teru Province to prevent more tragedies.”

    Grey, who was seven, nodded, his expression solemn. Silas, five, seemed to lose interest, wandering over to the open hearth. He poked the burning firewood with a stick until Amare took it from him, earning a quick pout.

    Luca glanced around the kitchen, comforted by the warmth he and Elina had cultivated. The pit fire built into the wall glowed softly. Elina, standing at the counter with a pot simmering on the range, kneaded dough for chapati. A steel grate installed under the roof offered protection from potential ghost wraith attacks. It was a product from Santi Corp, though Luca silently prayed they’d never have to test its effectiveness.

    “Baba,” Grey asked, “what’s the name of that oasis they built here?”

    “Swala Force3,” Luca answered. “It’s where Sokwe Recon trains new recruits. They may not be the strongest force in the empire, but they’ve kept Teru safe for ten years.”

    Grey exhaled in relief. “I’ll join them when I’m old enough. I want to protect our town, too.”

    Luca felt his heart clench as he met Elina’s worried gaze. Neither had imagined one of their children wanting to become a Guardian. He offered her a small, reassuring smile, hoping Grey’s ambitions would change.

    “What about you, Zev?” Luca asked, turning to his eldest. At seventeen, Zev stood on the brink of adulthood, set to choose a future path. “Where do you plan to enroll after the academy?”

    “The counselor helped me apply for a tech apprenticeship at Santi Corp,” Zev said.

    Rising from his seat, Luca carried the peeled potatoes to the sink, where Elina rolled pieces of dough into thin discs for cooking. A label reading “Santi” gleamed on the tap’s knob. He turned on the water, rinsed the potatoes, and closed the tap when the bowl filled.

    Santi Corp4, Luca thought with a trace of apprehension. The company was a powerful giant in Afrotheria, rumored to have secret research labs near the treacherous lands around Mount Njaro. It rivaled KISTech in Kirit, the capital.

    “Why does your advisor think you’d fit in at Santi Corp?” Luca asked, drying his hands with a paper towel before discarding it in a bin also emblazoned with Santi’s logo.

    “She says I have the imagination they’re looking for,” Zev replied with a satisfied smile. He brought the tray of potato peels to the compost bin, then returned to rinse the remaining potatoes. “I’m glad they accepted me. I’d rather stay here in Teru with you all than move to Kirit for four years. Besides, Santi Corp always needs talented tech apprentices.”

    “I wish you’d consider the Conservation Class like your father,” Elina said with a frown. “Santi Corp has labs in the Deserted Lands, the provinces near Mount Njaro5. I’ve heard it’s too dangerous there.”

    Zev shook his head. “I’m a trainee, Mama. They won’t send me off to the most secret labs on day one. My apprenticeship is based here, sharing a compound with Swala Force. All my classes will be at that oasis, and it’s a scholarship, so there’s no cost.”

    Elina braced her hands on the counter, her unease obvious. Luca couldn’t blame her. Their evening had revealed two unsettling possibilities: Grey’s dream of joining the Guardians and Zev’s acceptance into Santi Corp, an organization known for pushing the boundaries of research, often beyond the edges of safety.

    “All right,” Luca said decisively, hoping to dispel the tension. He clapped his hands once. “Enough talk about the future. Zev, help your mother with supper. Amare, take Grey and Silas to the living room. Make sure they finish their homework first. Then, they can watch a few toons. I renewed the subscription just yesterday.”

    Amare gave Zev a small smile and ushered the younger boys away. As Zev turned back to the potatoes, Luca slipped an arm around Elina’s waist. She let out a quiet sigh and looked up at him, her expression a mix of pride and fear.

    “What if Grey really goes through with this Guardian idea?” she whispered. “He’d be away all the time. People treat Guardians strangely.”

    “He’s seven,” Luca murmured, pressing a comforting kiss to her cheek. “You have years to show him why your work in conservation is so important.”

    Elina managed a quick laugh. She was a brilliant scientist, running a small agricultural lab in Teru Province. Outside this cozy kitchen, she carried the weight of countless experiments and research projects, yet she still radiated warmth for her family.

    “Maybe Amare will follow your lead,” Luca teased. “She’s the only one who loves plants as much as you do.”

    Elina started to smile, but Zev interrupted with an easy grin. “Amare wants to teach little kids,” he reminded them, setting a round iron pan on the lit stove.

    Elina and Luca both sighed in mock disappointment. Zev laughed at their reaction and shrugged. “There’s always Silas. Maybe he’ll turn out to be the future conservationist.”

    A soft chuckle spread around the room. Elina passed the first flattened dough disc to Zev, then guided him as he swirled oil into the pan. The dough sizzled, and Luca, standing beside them, offered gentle instructions on timing so it wouldn’t burn.

    In that moment, amid the comforting heat of the stove and the reassuring presence of family, Zev felt a warmth that transcended the physical.

    Though the future looked uncertain and full of risks, especially with ghost wraiths lurking beyond Teru, the bond they shared here in this small kitchen promised a measure of hope. It was a memory he would carry forward, no matter how far his path led him from home.

    <<Previous | TOC | Next>>

    1. Theria Guild is run by the Protector Class. It is like an army of guardians who learn how to fight the Ghost Wraiths and protect the provinces undergoing a reckoning. ↩︎
    2. A Reckoning -a full-on encounter with a pack of ghost wraiths. It is a term used by locals for such an event. Ghost wraiths arrive with thunder and lightning an attack villagers. ↩︎
    3. Swala Force: A training force set up by Sokwe Force to train young cadets as they join the Theria Guild. Each province in Afrotheria has a force that protects them from ghost wraiths. Some forces are more prolific at this like the Strike Force/black force, or Sokwe Recon. ↩︎
    4. Santi Corp -It is a powerful and influential company in Afrotheria, primarily involved in advanced technology and manufacturing. ↩︎
    5. Afrotheria’s provinces – Afrotheria has 12 zones or provinces. Each one protected by a Theria Guild Guardian force.
      -Zero Zone ( Njaro Mountain) beyond Zone Zero there is a beach.
      – Zone 1 ( Wild Lands)
      – Zone 2 (Wild Lands also where Santi Corp has its headquarters)
      – Zone 3 ( Wild Lands)
      – Zone 4 ( Wildlands)
      Zone 1- 4 are behind a blue barrier made of Concrete and steel
      – Zone 5 – Tigre City ( protected by Impala force)
      – Zone 6 – Kirit Capital ( protected by Sokwe Recon| holds Strike force + black ops base) Kirit has a lake called Lake Kirit.
      – Zone 7 – Thuka Province ( protected by Simba Force)
      – Zone 8 – Yole Province ( protected by Tiger Force)
      – Zone 9 – Teru Province ( protected by Swala with help from Sokwe Force) Also Gathu Village is in this province) Teru has a lake called Lake Teru. Zev’s home.
      – Zone 10 – Palan Town ( protected by Hawk force)
      – Zone 11 – Tenge Province ( protected by Nyati Force)
      -Zone 12 – Maan Province ( protected by Chui Force) ↩︎
  • Six Timeless Fantasy Reads Every Young Dreamer Should Discover

    Six Timeless Fantasy Reads Every Young Dreamer Should Discover

    From the wardrobe that whisks us into snow-dusted Narnia, where we meet Aslan and outwit an ice-cold witch, to Charlie’s wonder-filled tour of Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory, these classic fantasy reads spark every child’s imagination. Add The Golden Compass, a daring tale of kids rescuing kids from adults with terrible plans, and you have stories that pulse with courage, magic, and heart.

    These six books aren’t just entertaining; they invite young dreamers to explore deeper themes of friendship, bravery, and hope.

    Stories are the first passports we’re handed as kids. These six books stamped my childhood with magic: wardrobes that open into snowy kingdoms, chocolate rivers that bubble with possibility, spiderweb messages that spell out friendship, and secret gardens that teach resilience.

    The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis

    Chronicles of Narnia book cover

    Journeys to the end of the world, fantastic creatures, and epic battles between good and evil—what more could any reader ask for in one book? The book that has it all is The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, written in 1949 by Clive Staples Lewis. But Lewis did not stop there. Six more books followed, and together they became known as The Chronicles of Narnia.

    For the past fifty years, The Chronicles of Narnia have transcended the fantasy genre to become part of the canon of classic literature. Each of the seven books is a masterpiece, drawing the reader into a land where magic meets reality, and the result is a fictional world whose scope has fascinated generations.

    Charlotte’s Web by E.B. White

    Charlottes Web book cover

    This beloved book by E. B. White, author of Stuart Little and The Trumpet of the Swan, is a classic of children’s literature that is “just about perfect.”

    Some Pig. Humble. Radiant. These are the words in Charlotte’s Web, high up in Zuckerman’s barn. Charlotte’s spiderweb tells of her feelings for a little pig named Wilbur, who simply wants a friend. They also express the love of a girl named Fern, who saved Wilbur’s life when he was born the runt of his litter.

    Eragon by Christopher Paolini

    Eragon Book Cover

    One boy…
    One dragon…
    A world of adventure.

    When Eragon finds a polished blue stone in the forest, he thinks it is the lucky discovery of a poor farm boy; perhaps it will buy his family meat for the winter. But when the stone brings a dragon hatchling, Eragon soon realizes he has stumbled upon a legacy nearly as old as the Empire itself.

    Overnight his simple life is shattered, and he is thrust into a perilous new world of destiny, magic, and power. With only an ancient sword and the advice of an old storyteller for guidance, Eragon and the fledgling dragon must navigate the dangerous terrain and dark enemies of an Empire ruled by a king whose evil knows no bounds.

    Can Eragon take up the mantle of the legendary Dragon Riders? The fate of the Empire may rest in his hands.

    Charlie & The Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl

    Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Book Cover

    Charlie Bucket’s wonderful adventure begins when he finds one of Mr. Willy Wonka’s precious Golden Tickets and wins a whole day inside the mysterious chocolate factory. Little does he know the surprises that are in store for him!

    Can’t forget the Oompa Loompas! This book has a lot of nuances when you read it as an adult. A lot of commentary on social and economic factors, but from a childhood perspective, it has a lot to give too.

    The Golden Compass by Philip Pullman

    The Golden Compass Book Cover

    Lyra is rushing to the cold, far North, where witch clans and armored bears rule. North, where the Gobblers take the children they steal–including her friend Roger. North, where her fearsome uncle Asriel is trying to build a bridge to a parallel world.

    Can one small girl make a difference in such great and terrible endeavors? This is Lyra: a savage, a schemer, a liar, and as fierce and true a champion as Roger or Asriel could want–but what Lyra doesn’t know is that to help one of them will be to betray the other.

    The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett

    The Secret Garden Book Cover

    In a house full of sadness and secrets, can young, orphaned Mary find happiness?

    Mary Lennox, a spoiled, ill-tempered, and unhealthy child, comes to live with her reclusive uncle in Misselthwaite Manor on England’s Yorkshire moors after the death of her parents. There she meets a hearty housekeeper and her spirited brother, a dour gardener, a cheerful robin, and her wilful, hysterical, and sickly cousin, Master Colin, whose wails she hears echoing through the house at night.

    With the help of the robin, Mary finds the door to a secret garden, neglected and hidden for years. When she decides to restore the garden in secret, the story becomes a charming journey into the places of the heart, where faith restores health, flowers refresh the spirit, and the magic of the garden, coming to life anew, brings health to Colin and happiness to Mary.

    Do you remember which of your childhood fantasy reads shaped your earliest daydreams?

    Check out Theria Guild Guardian: Code and Courage

  • Theria Guild Guardian: Code and Courage – 2

    Theria Guild Guardian: Code and Courage – 2

    Reading Time:

    10–14 minutes

    Theria Guild Command, Kirit — Afrotheria’s Capital

    Glass screens mounted along the walls flared with brilliant-blue laser fire, illuminating the vast command dome. Officers manned support stations, responding to orders and sifting through footage for any detail that might tip the scales in the ongoing fight against the empire’s mounting threat.

    “What’s the count?” Demus Kiima demanded, his voice cutting through the steady hum of data feeds.

    “One hundred fifty,” came the reply from an officer stationed at a central console. “Now one forty-nine… forty-eight…”

    “How far out is support?” Demus asked.

    “Ten minutes, Commander,” another officer said evenly, delivering the grim news without hesitation.

    Demus cursed under his breath and turned to the overhead screens, which tracked the Simba Recon Team’s progress. The ghost wraiths—a vicious breed that plagued the outskirts of Afrotheria—were racing toward Thuka Province’s villages. Demus had every available Guardian on site, but Sokwe Recon was still en-route from a training exercise in Palan Town.

    “We cannot lose the barricades we’ve built in Thuka Province,” said Kiel Iram, Demus’s second in command. “They’re the only real protection for the outer lands. Yole Province and Teru are wide open. Those wraiths move too fast.”

    Demus’s gaze flicked to a display of vital signs, where three Simba Recon members now registered critical. Their distress alerts pulsed like beacons of danger across the screens.

    “We should have increased surveillance in Thuka,” Demus muttered. “Who else is close?”

    “Teru Province has trainee auxiliaries,” Kiel said, “but Yole still depends heavily on Simba Recon.”

    Two more Guardians went down. Demus stiffened.

    “Report,” he barked.

    “Fifteen active officers, five injured,” an officer called. “Ghost wraiths are at one hundred twenty now and accelerating.”

    “Air support?” Demus asked.

    “Sokwe Recon is two minutes out. We’ve launched twenty-five lightning drones from Simba Base.”

    Demus folded his arms, eyes locked on the screens as a swarm of drones swept into the forest clearing. The Simba team retreated toward their stone barricade and the steel entrance to the military base. They carried the wounded on improvised stretchers, while two snipers desperately rained down bursts of blue laser fire to hold back the wraiths, a chaotic, writhing horde at the tree line.

    Each time the lasers burned the wraiths’ slick, dark hides, they shrieked and spewed green blood onto the forest floor. The snipers’ shots were steady, but the team’s retreat allowed the creatures to gain ground. Five men ducked through the steel gates, hauling their fallen comrades, while three more paused at the entry to cover the snipers.

    Demus exhaled in relief when the last sniper scrambled through, slamming the gates behind them. The drones hovered in perfect formation, bombarding the wraiths, who howled and clawed at the weathered stone dividing the dense forest from Thuka’s settlement.

    Demus’s relief evaporated when three wraiths gouged deep grooves into the steel gates. At the sight of an opening, the rest of the pack converged, attacking the vulnerable spot.

    “Activate the highest-ranked trainees from the auxiliary camp,” Demus said. “Authorize Sokwe Recon to take command of Thuka Base Ops. General Kinya can deploy the weapons from Santi Corp. Kiel, send him the codes.”

    “Yes, Commander.” Kiel hurried to a nearby console to upload the codes.

    Demus pressed two fingers against his eyes, recalling that the empire was set to vote the next morning. Entire families, like those in Teru and Yole, would be out in force, casting ballots. Many had no idea how close the danger truly was.

    “Send a red alert to all branches of the Theria Guild,” Demus said, his tone heavy with urgency. “Include the Black Ops Protection Force. We can’t allow a ghost wraith attack to reach any village tomorrow, not when everyone is out there voting.”

    He cast one final, grim look at the footage of the battered barricades and marred steel gates. He could only hope the Protector Class, with all its training and firepower, would be enough to keep this menace from carving a path straight to the empire’s most vulnerable families, families who had no idea how close the darkness lurked.

    ****

    Dalia Taj logged into her Luna VR 1account and guided her avatar to the bustling market center. She had to track down a proprietary app from someone known as the “pink piggy,” hoping to secure the proper permissions for her latest project. KISTech2, her institute, was strict about illegal code usage. Every bit of software there needed to be documented and attributed to its original developer.

    She was knee-deep in a scientific experiment that involved analyzing ghost wraith DNA, a bold effort to design a biotech weapon that might halt the creatures’ reproduction. She knew others at KISTech were on similar research paths, many far more advanced. After all, she was still a student, and her work would first count toward her class grade. Still, a girl could dream of a breakthrough that would change Afrotheria’s future by ending the ghost wraith scourge once and for all.

    She smirked at the thought as she spotted the stall in the virtual marketplace. Unlike the sleek glass or polished wood of surrounding shops, this one was built with black tarp, marked only by a pink pig’s head above its entrance. Suspicious as it looked, Dalia slipped inside without hesitation.

    The interior was awash in flashing lights. Customers crowded around a wooden counter, calling out orders to the two men working behind it. Pink piggy’s code shop was always busy, prized for efficient, user-friendly Luna VR accessories and plug-ins.

    Dalia waved to the assistants and hurried to a bright-pink door at the back of the shop. A faint beep sounded as she touched the handle; she took out her virtual card and pressed it to the lock. Five hundred credits later, the door clicked open.

    “I’d expect a grand welcome, considering how much you charge just to get back here,” Dalia said, stepping inside. She found the pink piggy seated at a desk, engrossed in constructing a virtual greenhouse. “Does it really have to cost five hundred credits for an audience with you?”

    “You’re the one who needs me,” he replied, not looking up from his projected display. “Tell me, do you think women like white?”

    “It depends on the occasion,” Dalia said, crossing to the chair opposite him. “Why? Are you building that greenhouse for a girl?”

    “Maybe,” he said, shrugging. He wore his signature look—black slacks, a plain white T-shirt under a black vest, and sturdy combat boots, as though prepared to bolt at a moment’s notice. She’d never seen his face; the pink piggy head was part of his bizarre mystique. But no one could question his coding talent.

    With a quick click, he switched the greenhouse color to a garish pink that made Dalia wince. Then he glanced at her avatar.

    “You look stunning,” he said. It was odd how she could sense his grin behind the cartoonish pig face. “Do you keep your real-life looks here? You must be dangerous to meet in person.”

    Dalia chuckled. Her avatar was indeed designed to reflect parts of her real self, but not her true face. That would be too risky, given her father’s high-profile reputation. She allowed herself the same curvy silhouette, wore a tailored coat belted at the waist, a pinstriped skirt that ended above her knees, and knee-high black boots with a four-inch heel. A gold masquerade mask concealed her features, and her braids fell long down her back. Reaching into her coat pocket, she withdrew a card.

    “I need permission to use this, Pink Piggy,” she said, holding the card over the table.

    He eyed her long red nails, which stood out vividly against her dark skin, and took the card. “I’d love to know what you look like offscreen.”

    She shrugged. “Same goes for you.”

    He shuddered. “Let’s not joke. If I show my face, half the empire will beg me for cheap plug-ins.”

    “Wouldn’t that just mean more money?”

    He shook his head. “It’s also about how it comes to you,” he said, his brows furrowed as he read the card. “What do you need this code for?”

    “It’s for a science project,” Dalia said. “I’m willing to pay.”

    “It’s not about the money.” He set the card aside, voice suddenly serious. “I registered this code in the KISTech Registry3 on a whim. I thought it might support the ghost wraith fight—”

    “It can,” Dalia cut in. “I can’t give details, but I believe your logic will mesh well with my own. If we manage to refine it, we might have something worth presenting to the Theria Guild. I’ll keep the source code intact and maintain your rights when I submit—”

    “It’s incomplete,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ve been tinkering with it for ages, but something’s missing. I guess I don’t have enough data.”

    “I’m fine with an incomplete version,” Dalia insisted. “Please—”

    “What will you do about the errors I haven’t accounted for? I don’t sell half-baked work, even to beautiful women.”

    She jumped to her feet. “You’re insulting me. You think I’m not as talented as you? I’m not here to grovel for your source code. I only thought you posted it in the registry because you wanted someone with a similar vision. If that’s not the case, I can find another approach.”

    “You have a temper,” he teased, folding his arms across his chest.

    Dalia bristled, folding her own arms. She stared at the oversized pig head he wore. Could he be a fellow student at KISTech? She prided herself on knowing every top-tier coder in her year. If he was one of them, he’d done an impressive job of masking his identity.

    “You must have Tech Class credentials,” he remarked. “Having the funds to open this door means you’re likely well-connected—high enough on the chain to unlock my registration profile.”

    “I’ve got nothing on you, Pink Piggy,” Dalia said. “All I know is that you show up in this stall in Luna VR.”

    “Frustrating, isn’t it?” he asked, chuckling.

    “It is,” she admitted.

    He tilted his head toward the greenhouse design. “So, about these colors—what do girls like?”

    “Not that pink,” Dalia teased with a short laugh. “A light green or an earth tone suits a greenhouse better.”

    “Hmm.” He adjusted the controls, and the greenhouse settled into a more tasteful pale green.

    “I’ll review the code,” he said at last. “I need to see what I have on the Registry versus what’s stored in my private database. I’ll let you know.”

    “How do I reach you?” she asked.

    “Your five hundred credits gave me your user ID,” he said. “I’ll message you.”

    “Please don’t wait too long,” she said, unable to keep the worry from her voice. She needed progress in the next three days—voting day or not. Her class mentor expected a status update right after the election.

    “How long is too long?” he asked.

    “Tomorrow?” she ventured.

    “I’m busy tomorrow,” he said with a sigh. “The day after, maybe.”

    Dalia nodded reluctantly. “I’ll look forward to it,” she said, turning to leave.

    She nearly collided with another avatar wearing a comically large goat’s head. He greeted her with a loud “Meh!” that startled a laugh out of her.

    “Stop scaring our esteemed customer,” the pink piggy said in mock reproach.

    “She looked ready for it,” the goat-man replied.

    Dalia shook her head, fighting off a second burst of laughter. “Looks like you’re building an animal farm in here.”

    “Are we?” the pink piggy mused.

    The goat-man chuckled, and Dalia wondered what it would be like to meet them outside of Luna VR. “See you around, Pink Piggy. And you too, He-Goat. I’d better not run into a giant chicken next.”

    “See you around, Pink Piggy. And you too, He-Goat. I’d better not run into a giant chicken next.”

    She left, logging out of Luna VR as soon as she stepped through the stall’s main door.

    Removing her VR glasses, she set them carefully on her desk, then stretched. Her gaze drifted to the muted television across the room. The news was on, and her father’s face lit the screen as he waved to a roaring crowd in an amphitheater.

    “Unmute,” Dalia said quietly.

    “...Izra Taj and his running mate thank their supporters on the eve of the vote,” the reporter announced. “By this time tomorrow, we’ll know how his campaign has fared. Mr. Taj has led the Tech Class for six years, winning that office three times. He’s expected to be joined by his family when voting begins in just a few hours…”

    “Mute,” Dalia said again. A knock at her door made her glance up as her mother, Amelia Taj, peeked in.

    “Your father wants us all together soon,” Amelia said. “It’ll be easier for the campaign if we’re at the hotel tonight.”

    “Okay,” Dalia said, feeling a pang of exhaustion. She eyed her bed, fully aware she likely wouldn’t return to it until the voting was over.

    “It’ll all be done soon,” her mother added gently, as if reading her mind.

    Dalia attempted a smile. When the door closed, she let out a heavy sigh. If her father won and became the new Elderon, life would not go back to normal. It would only grow more complicated. Still, she hoped KISTech would allow her to continue her research without interruption.

    Heading to the shower, she could only think of one thing: the pink piggy and whether he would grant permission to use his code. She needed that puzzle piece—and she needed it fast.

    *****

    <<Previous | TOC | Next>>

    1. Luna VR is a virtual reality platform within the Empire of Afrotheria, accessed by users through VR glasses or visors. It functions as a dynamic digital space with various purposes, from commerce to personal and social interaction. ↩︎
    2. Kirit Institute of Science and Technology (KISTech). ↩︎
    3. The KISTech Registry serves as a system for documenting and attributing proprietary apps and code to their original developers. KISTech has a strict policy against illegal code usage, meaning any software used within the institute needs to be properly registered and its source acknowledged ↩︎

  • Jenny Han’s Summer Trilogy

    Jenny Han’s Summer Trilogy

    Salt, Sunscreen, and Second Chances: Jenny Han’s Summer Trilogy

    I read this trilogy for its coming-of-age heartbeat and stayed for the way it lets you sit inside Belly’s messy, sun-drenched firsts: first love, first heartbreak, first real loss, and the first steps toward independence. Belly isn’t always lovable; sometimes I wanted to shout at her choices and her naïve ideas about love (and even her mom’s decisions). But there’s an honesty to how she stumbles and learns. The result is a story that’s painful, and sometimes painfully beautiful, in the way growing up really is.

    Snapshot
    Titles: The Summer I Turned Pretty, It’s Not Summer Without You, We’ll Always Have Summer

    Author: Jenny Han
    Genre: YA contemporary romance • coming-of-age
    Vibes: beach house summers • love triangle • family and grief • firsts that change you
    Heat Level: low (YA-appropriate, closed-door)

    Why it worked for me

    The courage to be imperfect.
    Belly makes choices that can frustrate you as you read. She’s impulsive, naïve, sometimes blinded by what she wants love to be, but that’s exactly why the arc works. The trilogy doesn’t tidy her edges; it lets her be wrong, learn, and try again. Watching her move from wanting to be seen to learning how to see herself, her family, and the boys who matter makes the story worth it.

    Firsts, rendered with honesty.
    The series nails the visceral feel of firsts: the dizzy high of being truly noticed, that painful moment of a first heartbreak, the ache of losing a second-mother figure, the strangeness of preparing for college when home still needs you. None of it is melodrama; it’s every day life. Even when the situationships hurt, it feels earned.

    Family as an anchor.
    Mothers, sons, divorce, illness, tradition, each of these family dynamics tug at every decision. The beach house isn’t just a setting; it’s a memory bank where love and grief live. That family bond anchored so deep at Cousins Beach gives the romance stakes and situates Belly’s choices within a wider web of loyalties.

    Summer as a structure.
    By returning to Cousins Beach year after year, the books show how time changes everything. How the same porch light can look different once you’ve been broken and rebuilt. The seasonal rhythm becomes a mirror for Belly’s growth. Each year, Belly’s experiences in life give Cousins Beach a new meaning.

    Favorite Quote

    “Sometimes it’s like people are a million times more beautiful to you in your mind. It’s like you see them through a special lens—but maybe if it’s how you see them, that’s how they really are.”
    ― Jenny Han, The Summer I Turned Pretty

    Read if you enjoy

    • Coming-of-age romance that feels lived-in, not polished
    • Love triangle dynamics with emotional consequences
    • Family-centered stories where mothers matter
    • Beach-town nostalgia threaded with grief and hope

    Content notes

    Grief/illness (loss of a parental figure), underage drinking, heated arguments, breakup/make-up cycles, love-triangle jealousy.

    Your turn

    Which coming-of-age heroine frustrated you at times, but still had you rooting for her by the end? And what’s your favorite beach-set YA romance?

    The Summer I Turned Pretty is a series on Prime Video.

    Theria Guild Guardian: Code and Courage

  • Theria Guild Guardian: Code and Courage – 1

    Theria Guild Guardian: Code and Courage – 1

    Reading Time:

    10–15 minutes

    “Afrotheria is an empire of diverse peoples, flourishing at the horn of the Afro Continent. Our economy has grown quickly, partly because of our relentless quest to rid the empire of the ghost hound menace, and partly due to our abundant natural resources and the fierce dedication of the Science and Technology Class. Now, can anyone tell me why our people are divided into classes?”

    Zev sat at a desk in the back of the classroom, half listening to Miss Leya as he fiddled with his drawing tablet. He scowled at the screen, which refused to render his schematics the way he wanted and realized with a deepening sigh that a visit to the Upgrade Center was inevitable.

    A sudden pinch on his right thigh made him hiss under his breath. His best friend, Waweru—whom everyone called Weru—arched an eyebrow in warning. Zev ignored him, still mentally tallying the shillings in his wallet. He had two thousand left after his last job at the Village Center, but he had promised his little sister five hundred for her upcoming Conservation Center trip and her beloved plant purchases. That left him with only fifteen hundred, and a tablet upgrade cost four thousand. Another part-time job was in his immediate future.

    “Zev Mablevi!”

    He jolted upright, looking up from the tablet to find his classmates staring at him with various degrees of amusement.

    “I pinched you,” Weru whispered. “You wouldn’t listen.”

    Zev exhaled, set his tablet on the desk, and stood. He tried for a disarming smile when he saw Miss Leya’s disapproving look.

    “Miss Leya,” he said, clearing his throat.

    Miss Leya, their History and Civics teacher, was known for her passionate approach. She expected her students to care about the subject as deeply as she did, a feeling Zev could never quite muster. He found the class dull, though he grudgingly accepted its necessity for his tech certification. It was a true tragedy that his technology training included History and Civics.

    It was a true tragedy that his technology training included History and Civics

    Zev Mablevi, Theria Guild Guardian: Code and Courage

    “Zev,” Miss Leya said, folding her arms, “what are you doing in my class?”

    She rocked on her heels, her braids swaying in a ponytail perched neatly on top of her head. Zev bit his bottom lip, suspecting there was no answer that would satisfy her.

    “I suspect you’ve been more interested in the tablet on your desk than in my lesson,” Miss Leya said, her frown deepening. “You might be the top student here, but that doesn’t give you license to ignore my lecture. Please answer my question.”

    Zev glanced at Weru for help, but his friend only shrugged. Zev stifled a groan. The last he remembered, she was talking about Afrotheria’s Classes.

    “Um, Afrotheria has nine classes,” he said, plunging in. “They’re Science and Tech, Social Welfare, Medicine, Education, Conservation and Agriculture, Justice, Protector Class, Construction and Works, and the Registarion.”

    Laughter broke out. Zev saw Miss Leya’s frown deepen further.

    “That’s thorough,” she said, “but it tells me you haven’t been listening. Read the question on the overhead, Mablevi.”

    Zev scratched his head, then looked at the glass panel on the front wall. It displayed an image of the Registarion Building in the capital city, Kirit.

    “Why does the Empire of Afrotheria vote in a new Sable Council to work with the head of the Registarion every four years?” Miss Leya asked.

    Zev grimaced at Weru, who swallowed a laugh. Resigning himself to Miss Leya’s interrogation, Zev cleared his throat and focused on the prompt.

    “We, the people of Afrotheria, vote in a new Sable Council every four years to encourage growth and development,” he said. “Our greatest hope is to finally rid ourselves of the ghost hound scourge.”

    “Who is the head of the Registarion?” Miss Leya prompted.

    “That would be the Elderon1, who has a second in command called the Chancellor,” Zev answered. “He leads the Sable Council and manages the Registarion2 for the people.”

    “And what is the Registarion’s main role?”

    “They assist the eight representatives on the Sable Council3,” Zev said. “They make sure the different classes have the resources they need. The Elderon also casts the deciding vote when the Sable Council is at a stalemate.”

    “Where are those eight representatives selected from?”

    “They’re each voted in from the nine classes,” Zev said. “They tend to be the top minds in their respective fields. For instance, the technology representative is Vin Saha, the inventor of the helmet used by the Protector Class in its fight against the ghost wraiths.”

    “And why is the Sable Council so important that it sometimes needs that deciding vote from the Elderon?” Miss Leya asked.

    Zev paused, wondering how to answer this question. The Sable Council was important, but it was also filled with politics and power fights. He could never quite fathom why their energy wasn’t wholly spent on helping the people—and dealing with the ghost wraiths.

    “Well,” he said carefully, “the Sable Council is supposed to be the collective voice of each class, working to allocate funding and manage crises, especially keeping villages safe from ghost wraiths. When they can’t agree, the Elderon’s vote breaks the tie.”

    Seemingly satisfied, Miss Leya changed the overhead image to a familiar “Vote Now” sticker.

    “You know your Civics, Zev,” she said, “even if you’d rather play with that tablet than pay attention. We have four weeks together before you move on to your beloved Tech Courses. One day, perhaps you’ll see the importance of these lessons. Now, are you going to vote tomorrow? You’re seventeen, aren’t you?”

    Zev shook his head. “No, Miss Leya.”

    Her eyes widened as though he’d confessed a great sin. “And why not? It is your civic duty to vote, Zev Mablevi. Don’t you want progress for your village?”

    “I’m actually working at the Village Center tomorrow,” Zev explained. “I’ll be assisting with the voting process, so I’m not eligible to cast a ballot myself.”

    Miss Leya brightened. “Well, that’s admirable. What an experience you’ll have. Very good, Mablevi. Sit down.”

    Zev sank back into his seat, exchanging a sheepish grin with Weru.

    “Pay attention,” Miss Leya warned. “I’d hate to penalize our top student for fussing with a tablet.”

    Sliding his tablet into his bag, Zev pulled out a notebook and sat up straighter. Miss Leya continued.

    “Zev has already given most of the answers I’d planned to ask about our governing system. I’ll only add that the Elderon and Chancellor are a pair. Both earn their positions through the people’s vote. Thus, when there’s a stalemate, the Elderon’s vote ultimately reflects the empire’s majority opinion, but not necessarily the entire empire’s. Which leads to an important question: what about those who did not vote for the current Elderon or Chancellor? Weru, care to tell us?”

    Weru stood, clearly reluctant. “They have the minority leader?” he ventured.

    “Exactly,” Miss Leya said. “The minority leader forms a sort of ‘silent branch’ called the Opposition. His role is to monitor the Sable Council and raise concerns on behalf of those who did not vote for the Elderon or Chancellor. This ensures accountability. It’s not a perfect system, but it keeps Afrotheria relatively stable. Some of you will one day work in the Registarion. I hope you’ll fight for progress, both in government and in our ongoing struggle against the ghost wraiths. We all must face that darkness together to protect our homeland. I’m sure you’ll surprise us all with changes and improvements in the future.”

    She picked up a stack of forms from her desk and held them up. “We’ve reached the end of class. Before I dismiss you, pay attention to this.”

    Miss Leya stepped between the rows, handing each student a form. “You’re all at the end of your semester here in our small village academy, eighteen years old, or for some close to eighteen, and just three weeks from senior high graduation. You should know your grades by now.”

    The classroom filled with chatter and a few groans. Zev glanced at Weru, knowing his friend had middling grades but plenty of potential. The main pressure on Weru came from his father, who desperately wanted him to enroll in Kistech, the prestigious Kirit Institute of Science and Technology. Kistech researchers worked closely with the Protector Class, helping develop tech to defeat ghost wraiths.

    Weru wasn’t so sure he wanted that life. Teru Province, quiet and peaceful, offered its own kind of security, a world away from the bustle of Kirit.

    Miss Leya cleared her throat. “This form is critical. It’s an application to change the class you selected at sixteen. After graduation, shifting classes will be incredibly difficult. I encourage you to think hard before committing to a future you might not enjoy. The Science and Technology Class is elite but mentally consuming and demanding. If you don’t genuinely love research, design, and coding, you could end up maintaining basic tech for companies, households, stuck doing grunt work in labs. I’m not trying to frighten you,” she added, her voice softer, “only to prepare you.”

    I encourage you to think hard before committing to a future you might not enjoy

    Miss Leya, Theria Guild Guardian: Code and Courage

    Reaching Zev’s row, she handed Weru a form and turned to Zev with a teasing grin. “Of course, we expect top students like Zev to stay in Science and Tech. Who knows, he might invent the ultimate ghost hound–banishing weapon.”

    Laughter and whistles rippled through the room. Zev grinned. He did love tech, though not necessarily the high-powered pressure of Kistech. He hoped to work at the local lab with his parents and remain close to home.

    Laughter and whistles rippled through the room. Zev grinned. He did love tech, though not necessarily the high-powered pressure of Kistech. He hoped to work at the local lab with his parents and remain close to home.

    Miss Leya finished distributing the forms and returned to the front. “You don’t have to submit this form immediately. We have two days off for the vote and all the related activities. I want each of you to really think about what you want for your future. If you realize you’re in the wrong place, talk to me and I’ll do what I can to help. All right?”

    Murmurs ran through the class. Zev slipped his form into his backpack. He nudged Weru.

    “You could fill this out and switch classes,” he whispered.

    Weru shuddered. “My dad would kill me.”

    “You’re eighteen,” Zev reminded him. “You should be free to do what makes you happy.”

    “I can just imagine me telling Baba I want to move to the Construction and Works Class. He’ll have a heart attack,” Weru said with a sigh.

    “Try asking your mom for help,” Zev said.

    Waweru gripped his own tablet tight and shrugged. “I’ll think about it,” he said, folding the form from Miss Leya, and slipping it into his shirt pocket.

    At the front of the room, Miss Leya rapped a knuckle against her desk to get their attention.

    “The credit belongs—” she began.

    “—to the man in the arena whose face is marred by dust, sweat, and blood, again and again,” Zev and his classmates chorused, finishing her favorite quote.

    This credit belongs to the man in the arena whose face is marred by dust, sweat, and blood, again and again.

    Theodore Roosevelt, 1910

    “Now,” Miss Leya continued, “review the last two chapters in your history texts. We’ll have a quiz when you return. Zev, I’ll expect a full account of your time assisting at the Village Center. Class dismissed. Waweru, please come see me.”

    Zev patted Weru’s shoulder. Slinging his backpack over his right shoulder, he said, “Meet me in the Luna VR at nine tonight. I’ve got something to show you.”

    “Sure. I’ll message you before I log in,” Weru said, gathering his books as he trudged toward Miss Leya’s desk.

    Outside the classroom, Zev found his little sister, Amare, waiting for him with a clear ziplock bag of sugarcane strips. She grinned, handing him the sugarcane bag, and he took her schoolbag and slung it over his shoulder with his.

    “Are you working tomorrow?” she asked as they headed to the school’s front gate.

    “Yes,” Zev said.

    “Oh,” Amare said. “I was hoping you could help babysit our brothers.”

    “I need money for my tablet upgrade,” Zev said, biting into a piece of sugarcane. “Don’t forget. You’re going to the Conservation Garden, remember? I promised you five hundred shillings for the berry plants you’ve been eyeing.”

    “Zev, you don’t have to give me your money,” Amare protested. “I was going to earn a little cash by braiding Mom Ava’s hair.”

    “You hate doing hair,” Zev teased. “Don’t force yourself.”

    Amare chuckled. “Fine. But if you insist on covering my costs, then I’ll bring you lunch tomorrow. The brothers and I can hang back until Mom and Dad finish at the lab, and we’ll all head home together.”

    Zev’s eyes lit up. “Fried potatoes and beef stew?”

    She rolled her eyes. “I’m not taking orders.”

    “Or chapos and beef stew,” Zev persisted. “Or maybe pilau and beef stew. Actually, all three with beef stew would be perfect.”

    They shared a laugh. Walking side by side down the quiet village road, they basked in the midday sun and the easy companionship of home. The ghost wraiths might threaten distant provinces, but here in Teru—at least for the moment—life was sweet and calm.

    And as Zev knew all too well, moments of peace could be fleeting. Everyone in Afrotheria, even here in sleepy Teru, would eventually need to stand together against the darkness for the greater good.

    They walked on, as they always did after school.

    *****

    <<Previous | TOC | Next>>

    1. Elderon – The head of the Sable Council, leader of the Empire of Afrotheria. Voted in by the people with his Chancellor. ↩︎
    2. Registarion – the place where the Elderon works, sort of like Parliament, or an Emperor’s court. ↩︎
    3. Sable Council – A council that represents the nine classes of the Empire of Afrotheria. These classes are divided according to skill. They are: Science and Tech, Social Welfare, Medicine, Education, Conservation and Agriculture, Justice, Protector Class, Construction and Works, and the Registarion. ↩︎
  • Theria Guild Guardian: Code and Courage- Prologue

    Theria Guild Guardian: Code and Courage- Prologue

    Prologue: Njaro Mountain

    Reading Time

    1–2 minutes

    Njaro Mountain rumbled with a deep, earth-shaking roar that struck fear into every living soul. Dark billows of smoke swelled over its peak, thicker than the heaviest rain clouds, and rushed down the slopes as if guided by a malevolent force.

    Within minutes, wildlife erupted from the forests encircling the mountain. Men, women, and children in nearby villages felt their courage evaporate. After all, when lions flee, what choice does a person have but to run?

    Within the hour, seething red lava burst from Njaro’s core. Scalding and furious—hotter than any hell humankind can imagine—it poured down in rivers of molten fire, annihilating all in its path. Neither ancient trees nor birds, insects, or the last frantic animals escaped. Certainly, no human who remained, praying for divine deliverance, survived its touch.

    When at last the flow cooled, it left behind a silent expanse of devastation stretching a hundred miles. Yet out of those hardened vents crawled a calamity even worse than the lava. In a violent twist of nature, new creatures emerged; what the people of Afrotheria would come to call ghost wraiths. These massive, dark beasts sported oily black hides and jaws lined with teeth that could shatter a human body in a single bite.

    Thus, began a new era in the Empire of Afrotheria1, one overshadowed by the menace of the ghost wraiths2.

    TOC | Next Episode>>

    1. Empire of Afrotheria – A fictitious empire found in the horn of Africa with high-tech capabilities. It is the setting of the story Theria Guild Guardian: Code & Courage. ↩︎
    2. Ghost Wraiths – Massive, dark beasts with oily dark hides and jaws lined with teeth that could shatter a human body in a single bite. ↩︎
    Ghost Wraiths image from Theria Guild Guardian: Code and Courage
    Ghost Wraiths: Scary and deadly

  • The Veiled Investment by Felicita Churie

    The Veiled Investment by Felicita Churie

    The Veiled Investment book cover

    The Veiled Investment is a book that highlights the many cultural changes from 1945 to the present, encompassing the different generations. The information about these effects may not appear in history, but is told as stories. During our time, it was obligations and responsibilities; now, it is about rights and entitlements.

    Why She Calls Herself the Veiled Investment:

    In Felicita Churie’s community, a girl’s price was tallied in cows, not dreams. Eight decades later, that “veiled investment” has yielded returns no dowry could measure.

    She outruns an arranged marriage, wins a British Scholarship, teaches a generation of girls and boys, and—when her son’s life hangs in the balance—gives him her kidney. The child earmarked for dowry becomes a teacher, scholar, commissioner, kidney donor, and grief-tempered advocate. Each milestone proves her grandmother’s quiet prophecy true: a woman’s worth is compounded in resilience and service, not cattle or coin.

    Her life proves that the “investment” everyone else once claimed is, in truth, her own: education, faith, and an iron-clad will to keep going when tragedy strikes.

    The Veiled Investment is both a ledger and a love letter to women whose quiet labour bankrolls families and nations. It is Felicita’s luminous memoir of classrooms and hospital corridors, showing how one determined woman turns every setback into capital for those she loves.

    Available on Amazon: U.S. | U.K. | Germany Nuria Online Bookshop

    “I’m a member of the Silent Generation,” Felicita writes, “and my story is about my determination, resilience, wisdom, hard work, and independence—all rooted in my cultural background and the times in which I have lived.”

    new book alert banner

    And what times! The Veiled Investment paints a colorful tapestry of a woman who has walked step by step through eight decades of change. As I read her story, admiring her determination to attend school in a world where girls were not expected to, I realized that we, the children of the current times, often take such privileges for granted. In contrast, the Silent Generation fought for these opportunities, sought them out, and turned them into the norm.

    Felicita tells the story of a girl once viewed merely as a source of dowry, who transformed that expectation into an extraordinary life for herself and her family.

    In The Veiled Investment, Felicita demonstrates the value of the priceless, silent labor a woman gives to her family and those she loves.

    Our grandmothers and mothers of the Silent Generation hold remarkable stories that show us where we have come from. Felicita recalls asking her husband to sign her passport application so the government would know he had given his permission for her to travel. I marveled that I can now walk into a passport office as freely as I please and sign my own application. I promised her I would never take that privilege for granted again.

    I thank women like Felicita, who lived the struggle so that we might dare to take these privileges for granted. It falls to us, to every reader, to guard those hard-won rights and extend them to those who come after us.