An hour later, Arenya was writing in the final answer on her homework. Drav and Cartalis had each headed off to their next class, leaving her and Zelzad to finish the work alone.

They sat silently for a moment, enjoying the afternoon sun, when Zelzad asked, “So what was it like growing up?”

Arenya blinked. “Huh? What do you mean?”

“Well…” Zelzad hesitated a moment. “I mean… you didn’t grow up in the city. Or any city, for that matter. Almost everyone here did, though. And you’re a Follower, but you're not much like Ya'el. So what was it like growing up?”

Arenya grabbed her water bottle, muttered a quick prayer, and took a long sip before answering. “It was nice, but a lot of hard work. There was a lot of work to do on the farm, but a lot of enjoyable times, too. I remember spending hours with my Dad showing me how to do the morning prayers.”

“I thought…” Zelzad looked away. “No, I shouldn’t ask that.”

“Go ahead.”

“Well, I really don’t know much about Followers. Most of it I realized was pretty wrong when I met Ya'el, and found out was even more wrong when I met you. Like, how Followers are always sitting on piles and piles of gold from dragon hordes.”

Arenya winced. “Nobody told me that to my face growing up, but almost everyone I know has a story of the time they were accused of hording wealth.”

“Right. Lotsa crap, I realized, some of it just made up.” Zelzad paused. “So I’m sorry if this is another fake one, but you said you did the morning prayers. I thought Follower women weren’t allowed to pray because the men rule the household?”

“It’s… It’s complicated.” Arenya reached into her bag and took out her prayerbook. “Women are in charge of the household, usually, but they usually don’t say most of the morning prayers, and if they do in a group of men they… It’s not that they don’t matter, but…” After racking her brains for a few seconds trying to find the best way to explain, she simply said it bluntly. “If you’re doing something that needs a whole group, they have to all be men, usually. I asked my mother about it once and she said that she used to think it was a punishment until she realized that she got to spend so much time with me growing up while my dad was always so busy, and she realized she was actually rewarded with time to raise her daughter.” Arenya bit back a sigh, looking out at the grass.

Zelzad shook her head. “I don’t get it. Are you saying she came to terms with being not important enough to count because she was a woman?”

“No… You won’t get it. Nobody in this school is going to, except for Kazurist.” She paused. At that moment, even though she’d hated it last time, Arenya found herself craving a cigarette to take the edge off the conversation. “Men have to do them every day, but women don’t. Some people say they shouldn’t, and others say it’s not required but they are allowed to.” She opened the book to a well-thumbed page and pointed to the text. “But I wanted to, and my parents said it was okay, and so do lots of people. My parents encouraged me to say them all, though my mother didn’t do more than the first part, which everyone says. My friends generally thought it was weird that I did them all, though. You start here, and they go to…” She pointed about fifty pages further. “Here.”

“That must take forever to do.” Zelzad peered at the book before grimacing at a particular line which was marked “Men say…” with a corresponding “Women say…” to its side. “Wait, your father would say that? And you were okay with it?”

“It’s complicated.”

“What if someone isn’t a man or a woman? What line do they say then?”

Arenya shrugged. “They would just pick one, I guess. It never really came up at home.”

Zelzad looked both extremely confused and extremely interested. Arenya was startled to realize this seemed so alien to others, when this life and this book seemed so utterly normal to her. “I never thought I’d feel so out of my element here,” muttered Arenya. She tried to keep the frustration out of her voice, but she could hear it in each word. “I knew it’d be different in the city, but not like this. You and Cartalis are the only people I can talk to about these things, and even then I have to defend it every damn step of the way.” Arenya bit back a single tear.

“What about Professor Kazurist?”

“I like him, but he’s so much older and comes from a totally different group. Some of the stuff he does is totally different from what I did growing up, which is fascinating, but not that familiar. We can have fun talking about these things, of course we can, but he’s not a friend like you are. Not really.” A deep breath. “I should have known I wouldn’t have any Follower friends here.”

Zelzad was silent for a moment, before abruptly asking, “You said you had friends back at the farm who thought it was weird that you did all the prayers?”

“Yeah, I did.” Arenya wasn’t sure whether Zelzad had changed the subject deliberately or not, but was thankful for the opportunity. “I had two really close friends there. They were both three years older than me. Bachshesmatz and Tzegas.”

Zelzad blinked. “Those don’t sound like traditional Follower names that I know of.”

“They aren’t. Neither is Arenya. My parents just liked the sound of it. But those weren’t their real names, just silly nicknames we came up with. They called me Tagtematz.” Arenya barely suppressed a giggle remembering the ridiculous way they came up with those nicknames. "They were both half-dragons, so a lot scalier than me. They were never all that religious, and didn’t want to go out of their way to do more prayers than they had to. They always thought it was strange I tried to do so much. I was usually the only woman there who did all the morning prayers.

“Still, we did a lot together. They often came by to help on the farm, and I helped out with their animals sometimes. We studied together and spent time together during the holidays a lot, up until they both left for a different school. I haven’t heard from them in a while… I wonder how they’re doing now.”

Arenya’s stomach grumbled as she thought of the farm and its massive collection of apples. “I wish I could go back there for a bit and see how the apples are coming along. We’d just gotten some new seedlings that were supposed to make this big, sweet red apples. I hope the trees are growing well so I can try one when I visit.”

“And when are you going to visit?”

At that, Arenya paused for another moment. “…I wish I knew,” was all she could say.

Zelzad was quiet for a moment. “Must be nice, having grown up in the same place the whole time. We never had much money - my parents were always having to pick up odd jobs to make ends meet. We kept moving around to wherever we could find work, so we never stayed in the same place for long.” She lit a cigarette before continuing. “At least it gave me practice for when we tour. Hope my parents won’t be too pissed when they find out that’s my plan.”

“I… I…” Arenya took a deep breath. “I never really thought about the idea of someone in the city not having a lot of money. This was always where the rich people lived, who didn’t have to spend hours on farmwork every day.”

Zelzad grinned sardonically. “That’s what the city folk want you to think, that we’re all aristocrats. But it isn’t true.”

“Yeah… I’ve come to realize the city isn’t what I was told it would be.”

“Few things are.” Zelzad stood and stretched. “Maybe we should follow Cartalis and Drav now. We’ve still got a bit of time left before they stop serving lunch.”

Arenya smiled, stood, and followed. “Let’s.”

But the smile was only skin deep. Her frustration at - well, a lot of things - remained as a core in her chest.