As the bells rang, dismissing high school students from their half-day of classes, teenagers flooded out of the large brick building and separated into school buses, parental cars, or the parking lot, eager to leave the grounds and spend the afternoon in freedom. In the parking lot as cliques separated out to hang around specific cars, or friends jumped into their rides and got in line to leave campus, a young blonde sophomore yelled across the lot in an attempt to catch the attention of a student intent on walking to wherever she was going.

“Brenna!” she yelled, cupping her hands around her mouth to amplify the sound when her first attempt failed. “Hey, Brenna!”

The slight female figure stopped and turned on her heel to face the group of her classmates from three rows away. Her face tilted skyward as she flung herself around, looking and sounding exasperated as she yelled back, “Whaaat?” Her hands hung pointedly by her sides, showing that she should have been caught for shorts that were too short, but had somehow managed to avoid the eyes of teachers throughout the day. The girl was on the pale-side and incredibly small statured, but her response hinted at an attitude that was anything but.

“Aren’t you coming? I thought we were working on that history project today?” the blonde called back, not so much screaming as projecting her voice over the crowd.

At the mention of a project, the small girl’s demeanor changed completely. Throwing both hands up as if to tell them to wait, she looked around to find the easiest path to use to get to them, eventually choosing to squeeze between cars parked a little too close. She moved so quickly, however, that she popped out between the parked cars and into a lane with an oncoming old Ford. As onlookers gasped, some preparing to scream, the short brunette simply reacted: she jumped.

Luckily for the squeamish in the crowd, Brenna had years of training in martial arts, some of which included jumping, all of which included shortening reaction times. She easily made it over the roof of the hood, touching down once in its center to propel her forward, and somersaulted on the way down to cut air resistance. She landed easily in a crouch, then got up as if nothing had happened, readjusting her backpack straps. She squeezed between another set of cars, ignoring the screeching brakes behind her and the some-odd-number of people clapping; her pale blue-green eyes focused solely on the slightly-dumbfounded group members.

She came right up to the blonde and slung her backpack to the ground, the cloth satchel leaned against her leg as Brenna took center stage. “Listen, all of you,” she started, her voice strong and nearly mesmerizing, “You have the talent, the vision, and the materials to see this project through.” Her eyes scanned the faces of the four-member group, the tall popular blonde girl, the shy and brainy brunet, the basketball player, and the anime-guy, “You can do this. You have our plan, and it’s a good one. I got the permissions from the teacher, our councilor, and the assistant principle; we hashed out what was required, skinned off the unnecessary, and what is left is a plan that will blow their socks off!” She pumped her fist in the air once, attracting their attention and giving them a burst of new energy. “You don’t need me to keep this going – you can do it, together! If you hurry, everything should be completed by five!”

The group was smiling, seeming inspired by her impromptu speech – something Brenna was known to make, occasionally – and so the short girl nodded once at them. “You can do it.” Without anything more, she hoisted her backpack over one shoulder and walked away, back in the direction she was going, through the parking lot and crossing the street beyond. There she sighed and rolled her eyes, Yeah, like she would spend any more time on that project. It was all she could do to force that speech out.

It was fun at first – the planning stage was her favorite time. The ideas, good and dumb, were fun to throw around and test against others. Assigning roles, fighting for teacher approval, designing what everything would look like – that was what she did. Now they could put it together without her. Why should she waste another afternoon, especially a free one like this? Besides, the soccer club was planning to meet early with all that extra time given to them. She put her backpack back on, slinging her arms through the straps properly as she walked, her tennis shoes gripping the pavement appropriately. She liked spring.

…..


Dusk was beginning to settle when the team called an end to practice. Brenna felt like she could keep going for quite some time, but the look on her team’s faces said otherwise, so she shrugged and grabbed a towel to dry off and sipped some Gatorade. It was a good practice – they were sure to win their match on Saturday. Especially with her working point. As the team broke for home, she did too, slinging her sports bag over her shoulder and taking a short cut through the kids’ park. Her home wasn’t too far away – lucky for her parents – so she constantly walked home, with or without her brothers for ‘protection’. The park was busy tonight; a little league baseball game was in the works, their families watching the show or chasing after younger siblings as they played on the playground equipment, laughing and running and having a great time.

These kinds of kids in this situation were the kind she wouldn’t mind babysitting. But anyway.

She had just passed the fields and was walking through the chain-linked tunnel that joined her neighbourhood to the park when a chill ran down her spine. She stopped, puzzled because she was still warm from the exercise and the weather was mild, wondering why else she would break out in goosebumps, but wrote it off to dehydration. She took another long swig from her Gatorade and started walking again when she heard the screams.

What in the world…?

The park was in chaos. Coaches were rushing to the dugouts, ushering the players off the field as their parents broke out in mass hysteria on the stands; completed families ran to the parking lot but were suddenly knocked down before they got there and stopped moving. Though she searched for the source, she could find nothing in the confusion. The unknown attacker both frightened and enthused her, made her heart grow cold even as her body reacted. Behind her were her sports bag and Gatorade, fading away as her legs pumped her forward, towards whatever threat had taken over.

What was she doing? She was being stupid! … and yet, she knew she wouldn’t have it any other way. Whatever this thing was, it was definitely a challenge. She was trained in Taekwondo and had had smatterings of lessons in other martial arts fields, she could take care of herself, and maybe help these people, too. Stupid – what chance did she stand against something that knocked crowds of people down? Probably none. … but then again, she was invincible, right?

It was a joke she used to use on her tormentors when she first started fighting back – “I’m invincible! No matter what you do, I will win!” Crazy, perhaps, especially when one considers that she was taunting boys nearly twice her size, but just crazy enough to make them think twice.

Her run brought her past the now-empty fields, but suddenly she was thrown backwards by an incredible force. It must have been the wind, right? She pulled herself to her feet; strange, that she was the only one who did so. Everyone else laid very still, breathing, but not moving, all fanned out away from a central point… where stood a man and a monster. In the man’s hand floated a blue glowing wisp of smoke, impossibly keeping in place, but he was then gone, flashing away but leaving the creature behind: It was a giant scorpion; the size of a bull-mastiff, as long as a car. Its stinger arched over its head menacingly. On six black insect legs it started to scurry away, stepping over, around, and on unconscious people as it made its escape. What could she hope to do against it? Fight.

“Hey!” she yelled, gaining its attention. As it slowly maneuvered its bulk to face her, she picked up a sizable stick and held it in front of her like a baseball bat mid-swing. Its red eyes alighted on her and it darted its tail forward. Instantly the grass in her direction started to bend; her reflexes allowed her to jump to the side, and she ran at it. In her head biology lessons, zoology lessons, early science classes, trips to the zoo and talks with that travelling-zoo man whizzed through her head, attempting to review what she knew about scorpions, but those lessons were so boring! All she could remember was that it was more of a spider than a bug (?) and its sting was poisonous. No matter, she wasn’t aiming for the sting.

It readjusted when it saw she was aiming for its side, and with another rearing of its tail she dashed aside again and kept running. It had nearly gone in a half-circle when she finally reached it and smacked it with the stick. … The wood broke on impact, splintering into a thousand pieces and doing little to no damage. She was screwed.

But just then a crow cawed above, distracting the scorpion enough to get her away unharmed. She wheeled around as she ran, keeping an eye on the beast as she looked around for another weapon to use on it, trying to keep it away from the downed people all around her. The crow balked again, but this time its cry was tinted with words, words that seemed to come out of nowhere.

~Why are you fighting?~

A fist-sized rock presented itself to her. She stooped down quickly, snatched it up, and threw it with all her might towards the scorpion, hitting it squarely in one of its many eyes. It hissed at her and paused for a moment, its tail darting forward over its body with menace, trying to keep her at bay while it recovered. She looked around for another rock, not wanting to give it a chance, but her search was derailed when the large black crow flew around her, his brown eyes seeming to stare right at her.

~Why are you fighting?~

She could be going crazy, but she answered the crow, hoping it would leave her alone, “Because they’re in trouble, and I can beat it!”

~Are you not worried about yourself?~ the bird asked, alighting on a branch over her head.

She scowled up at it, “Like it could beat me! Besides – they’re defenseless! Someone has to help them!” The scorpion’s tail twitched once more, then the giant bug turned as though looking for her, its eye recovered.

~Good; then let me help you. Take this, and yell “Saiph Star Power, Make Up!”~

She caught the silver hair chopstick deftly in her right hand and wasted no time. A talking crow was enough to convince her that either she had passed out – ha ha – or something incredibly weird was happening and she wasn’t about to let this challenge go. So she raised it high over her head and yelled, “Saiph Star Power, Make Up!”

A reaction started. Trickling from the tip of her fingers wrapped around the stick and travelling down her arm she felt a line of energy, like heat or electricity, engulf her. She closed her eyes instinctively; in seconds it was over and she opened her eyes to see the stick had disappeared completely. Her hands and forearms were encased in white gloves, ending in an olive band that kept them in place at her elbow; she felt a heaviness about her neck that reminded her of the  kerchiefs she wore as a girl scout, forever many years ago; she wore a supportive leotard around the trunk of her body – glancing down she saw an olive collar, a cream-colored frilly girly bow, and a three-tiered olive skirt lined in cream, and felt the choker at her neck and band about her brow. Her hair was swept back in a ponytailed braid, rather than her trademark bun. All in all, an easy-to-maneuver in outfit. .. Minus the boots. Huge boots, knee-height and white and not all that comfortable encased her feet and calves. All she could think was that they had better be easy to run in, when suddenly it was as though her body instantly recognized them. She didn’t pause to puzzle over the sensation, but instead turned back to the monster, who by now had figured out the ploy.

Words rushed into the forefront of her mind; she didn’t know where they came from, but it felt like she had known them since before she was born. Holding her right hand aloft, she just had to think and a sword appeared. It was huge, the blade about three feet long, its crazy bladed embellishments stretching to make its width nearly a foot and a half. It was as though a monstrous sword had been split in two, its halves separated like pinchers. It was intimidating, that was for sure, but her hands held it like they were born to do just that.

And that’s where the ease of using it ended.

The scorpion rushed forward, moving incredibly fast, and Brenna dashed to the side, learning at the point in time that her new costume had a long cape attached to the back. Great. She turned on her toes, thrown off balance by the sword and ended up staggering in the opposite direction. Super great. But it was slower to recover. There was an opening! She started running forward as an alien phrase made its way through her vocal cords, “Saiph Shining Sword Charge!”

The sword began to glow and she felt herself moving faster – incredibly faster! Charging forward with the brilliant green sword held up to be slashed forward. It connected! With a downward arc she managed to cut off the threatening tail of the black scorpion and actually kept going. She stopped and turned, panting, to see the creature spurting bright green blood that steamed, even in the relative warmth of the evening. Before it could have the chance to recover, she lunged forward and stuck it with the sword, her double blades piercing into its eyes. … and then it was gone. It started to disintegrate, collapsing upon itself until it became a pile of silver dust. She stood back and watched in amazement as the dust blew away.

~Good job, Sailor Saiph,~ the voice in her head congratulated, but when she looked around to see the crow, it had vanished. However, it had left behind a small watch with a circular, digital face. She picked up the trinket and put it on her wrist, wondering, as her strange outfit faded away to her soccer practice clothes, what she had gotten herself into. … and if there would be more fights like that.


Brenna went home that night to a news story about a strange flu that knocked out everyone at the park. Police and medical people advised that everyone take Vitamin C to ward off this new bug, but said that the risk of fatality was minimal. This wasn’t the first occurrence of the strange events, the reporter said, but by that point Brenna had already left the room, a bowl of cereal in one hand, a brand new hair accessory and wrist watch in the other.