Christiana slung her book bag over her shoulder and marched toward the main building of the school. Two other young people, a boy of extraordinary height and a girl of extraordinary beauty fell in step beside her, obviously bound for the school's administration office as well. The boy had two book bags that looked, though as overstuffed as hers, light as a feather to him. When they reached the door, he hurried ahead to pull it open, the girl that was with him acting as if it was expected. He did not let the door go but continued to hold it for Christiana and when she looked up at him as she passed he flashed her one of the kindest smiles she'd ever seen.

            The desks were arranged in five rows of five, twenty-five in total.  The two she’d 'accompanied’ into the building and then to the room, took seats in the fourth row from the front, he in the line paralleling the windowed wall, she one row in.  Christiana selected the second seat back also close to the window.  Interlacing her fingers she rested her hands on the desk and stared blankly at the old-fashion blackboard, her mind drifting off into a meditative state.

            I am the warrior of God.

            I have been chosen to battle His enemies. 

            I am the Huntress, the Venatrix, the Slayer of Evil in its many forms.

            The young giant sat cross-legged on the grass beneath a windswept pine tree, the girl with the movie star face leaned her back against his body her knees drawn up to support the book she was reading. He watched Christiana as she moved across the quad looking for a place to sit. His gesture to her seemed a genuine invitations but she hesitated until he shrugged. She stepped up onto the stone wall to reach them and sat just within the shade of the tree a meter from the two. The boy grinned, displaying brilliantly white teeth in a face as tanned as any she'd ever seen. His voice was softer than she expected when he spoke.

            "Hi, I'm Nat and this is Wren."

            "Christiana,” she replied.

            The boy, Nat, looked at her for a long minute, silently, as if appraising her.  His blue eyes felt hot on her skin and she fought down an urge to fidget.

            "Stop staring, Nathaniel,” the girl said without looking up from her book.

            Nat smiled shyly, "Sorry.”

            "Did you have a question for her,” Wren asked him at last looking up at Christiana.

            "You aren’t like us,” Nat said and it wasn’t a question.

            Christiana flushed, irritation creeping up her spine.

            "Like you?” she almost snapped.  "Why would I want to be like you?”

            The big surfer held up his hands.

            "Easy,” he said calmly.  "I meant it as an observation, not a criticism.”

            "Then what do you mean?” Christiana wanted to move, to get away from these two.

            "Since you are in our class, you know we are all 'special’.” The word dripped sarcasm but his tone shifted as he added gently.  "But you have a different aura.”

            "You have taken up aura reading now?” Wren said watching him out of the corner of her eyes.

            "I know I ain’t as good with words ..."

            "I’m not,” Wren corrected.

            "I’m not as good with words,” Nat continued, accepting her syntax alteration without rancor.  His blue eyes touched Christiana’s and held.  "There’s something more to you, something ...” he shrugged.  "Holy.” He finished.

            Christiana stared into this boy’s eyes, unflinching.

            "What do you mean?” she asked.  Did he see God’s Mark on her?  She wasn’t even sure if such existed.

            Wren closed her book on a slender finger and regarded Christiana.

            "Are you a metahuman?” she asked bluntly.

            "No . . .” Christiana replied in a small voice.  She had no intension of continuing but something in the big guy’s eyes touched her.  "I am a Warrior of God.”

            Nat nodded as if to himself while Wren opened her book and resumed her reading.

             "Then we are on the same side,” Nat said offering his hand.  She took it, surprised at how carefully he shook her hand.  "What do you do for fun?”

            He caught her off guard and she had to think about it.  For so long all she’d ever done was train.  Now, confronted by such a question, she couldn’t really answer him.

            "I don’t know,” she admitted.

            "Wrong thing to say,” Wren said without looking up.  "Hope you can swim.”  Laying her book in her lap she tousled Nat’s short sun-bleached hair.  "You don’t think he got this out of a bottle do you?”

            Nat blushed but almost preened under Wren’s fingers and the look on the other girl’s face flashed with tenderness Christiana would not have expected based on what she’d seen from Wren to that point.  They didn’t hang all over each other, or even hold hands but there was a bond between the two even Christiana with her limited experience with boys could see.  For an instant she was jealous but she didn’t know of what.

            "Swim,” she said at last.

            "I give him until Sunday,” Wren said.  "By sundown, you will find yourself on a piece of floating fiberglass watching a huge wave chase you toward the beach.”

            Christiana shook her head, "I don’t surf.”

            "Neither do I,” Wren admitted.

            "YET!” Nat said with a huge grin.  "I’ll get you on a board yet, Wren.”

            "I prefer my limbs in their current condition, thank you,” she replied.

            "Beach party this week-end, Wren,” Nat said, leering.

            "Beach party every week-end, Nathaniel,” she replied.

            "You wanna come along,” Nat said to Christiana.

            She shook her head, "I have an appointment for training over the week-end.”

            "Training?”

            "Yes,” she left it at that.