intergalactic dialecticron

When asked, when it was her turn, she blushed. Because why not. It was a safe space to be embarrassed and awkward. She said, “Well, I would have to say it would have been Cliera, Krnis, Pen, Rmanf, and—” (after the faintest pause) “Snoshrsash!” Then blinked, eyelids side-lit by the unmistakeable glow of a Mwnshi sunrise.

This was all (of course) before the war. Before any of us knew anything about peace, because peace was not a concept we’d ever had a use for. Not because we were innocent, or noble savages or whatever, just because—

But again the clearing erupted with laughter as the distant volcano, the one on the nearest moon, erupted in molten methane again. It was definitely a day.

Mwnshi youths have a handful of teachers. Other people are there, of course, as they grow, supportive, nice, mean, healing, angry, objects of emulation or competition. But the core teachers are the ones who actually teach them the things they will later discover they needed to have learned. The thing is, though, they don’t know who these teachers are, until late in adolescence. On the cusp of adulthood they get a special day, like a birthday party almost, usually in the woods, when they get to find out. The big revelation. It’s not always who they would have guessed. It’s a party game—they have to guess. Most of the graduates get at least a few wrong but Wrin got all hers right. That’s a fun excuse to amp up the party even more! Dkrin negotiated with a boar who disappeared for a while, returned with donuts, nodded solemnly, and snuffled back into the underbrush. There was every kind of tea, every kind of sparkler. Music, unstoppable; dancing, hilarious.

Later someone asked Wrin OK sure, so you know who they were, but do you know which one taught which thing to you? That’s a harder question, let’s see how she does. Wrin posted up by the dutch oven in the fire pit, thought it over cutely, and finally spoke.

“Cliera taught me how to read, and Krnis taught me how to calculate. Pen taught me how to understand people. Rmanf of course taught me how to write and sing.”

And? And?? Everyone wanted to know, leaned in eagerly. What about old Snoshrsash? What’d he teach you? Glimmers of potential laughter circulated throughout the clearing. Many pairs of eyes bright, waiting for the moment.

“Well,” Wrin said, smiling with her pink cheeks, “Snoshrsash taught me how to not give up.”

Now there was so much laughter the valley shook. She’d got them all completely wrong, every single one! A score of zero on the matching quiz! Hugs and teasing all around, sausage rolls hot and ready out the dutch oven. Snoshrsash made his way over to her after everybody’s attention had dispersed, and gave her his biggest, grumpiest, best hug. What a rare, perfect evening. Armno bowed harshness right out of the tea, and we drank.