Roger woke up with the sun. The strong rays were pleasant, warming him after the cold night.
He did not dream that night, his hunger disrupted his sleep too much for that.
He lazily raised a hand to block the light and catch a couple more minutes of sleep, but the action was mostly unsuccessful. He swatted his hand into the air in a mock challenge, but let it fall down shortly after.
Roger didn't have enough energy to fight the will of the sun, although one day he would certainly try!
'Maybe I should add the sun to my list of enemies? I could even make an oath of sorts against it.'
The star, ever uncaring, didn't react to the thoughts of another insignificant ant.
He groaned and rolled to his side in dissatisfaction.
He felt a strange new substance under his head. It was stringy and soft, and he found himself enjoying it.
Until his brain realized it had not been there the night before.
His eyes shot open and he rolled away, jumping to his feet and drawing one of the blades around his waist. It left the sheath with a ring, but the action was clumsy, causing Roger to stumble backward with the shifted weight.
Looking at the substance, he noticed it was something he recognized.
Hair, golden blonde hair.
Roger's eyes widened as he noticed it was also attached to a body.
Thin, pale, shoulders lightly shielded with a cloth shirt stood just beneath the hair, leading to a long torso and legs.
His mind momentarily shut off as he realized it was a woman.
No, not a woman, the body was too little for that.
It was a girl?
He was unsure of what to do, so he slowly stepped around to the other side of the resting figure, keeping a wide berth. His sword was held out, ready to strike should anything leap out at him.
His eyes were a story of fear and confusion as he moved. He had little experience with women, but the way the other inmates described them, they were a threat no weaker than the greatest of beasts.
He had heard dozens of men explain that their lives inevitably turned for the worse after a heartless woman destroyed them emotionally, leaving Roger confident that if he ever met one he would do everything he could to stay far away from it.
Finally able to view her from the front, his breath caught in his throat.
She had delicate and smooth features, looking more like a fallen angel than a human. Her soft lips and perky nose were adorable, and Roger couldn't help but feel an obligation to protect her from the sight of them alone.
Her forehead was scrunched, and he assumed she was dreaming. She looked angry, but that just added to her charm.
Tracing down the rest of her, he assumed she was maybe five and a half feet tall, just a little shorter than Roger was. She was also wearing clothes very similar to his own, and he put two and two together.
'So another was sent to Avar? Was this done on purpose? Does the Administrator want someone to help me, or is he wanting to mess with my plans of isolation?'
The girl was a wild card. She could have different views of society, and try to seek it out.
If that happened, she could reveal Roger to the government, and they would come capture him.
He would become a prisoner again.
'Maybe I should just leave. She hasn't woken up yet, I could take my stuff and get out of here!'
Even as he thought it, he knew that he couldn't take everything. It had taken him half a day to bring the tools and tiger to the glade.
Without knowing where else to go, or how long the girl would remain asleep for, it was just too risky.
'Then I just take what I can and leave the rest to her? She seems nice enough, I bet she deserves a nice little starter package. Something to maybe spare her the same challenges I faced?'
His own greed stepped in with that thought, and he realized he simply didn't have it in him to leave so much he had fought, and almost died for, to a random girl he had never met before.
'She has probably destroyed many men emotionally anyway! I owe it to the boys back in prison to not help her! If I did, they would never let me hear the end of it when I free them!'
The thought stilled him as he realized he had been subconsciously planning to help his former "co-workers" the entire time.
It also helped him realize he had not taken in air since he had first looked at the girl's face.
Embarrassed, he inhaled deeply, purposefully keeping the sound limited to try to not wake her up.
Looking back at her, he considered the impact of waking her up.
Would she be happy? Scared? Angry? He didn't know.
Thinking back to her golden hair, he suddenly understood that she was not like Roger.
She was a free girl, not a prisoner. Her hair was neatly combed and textured.
It was also long.
Hair never grew too long in the prisons, it was a workplace hazard. Not to mention short hair was easier to keep clean and maintain.
Roger could only assume that a small fortune had to be spent to maintain the girl's glossy, soft, luxurious…
He shook his head to banish the unwanted thoughts, unwilling to go down that road just yet.
'The inmates never warned me about the power a girl's hair held! In the future, I will make sure to pay particular attention to the hair of women I meet! You must not touch it, or some magical curse is placed on you!'
Women seemed to be an increasingly good argument for magic having spread from Avar to Earth, at least around Rogers's lifetime.
The prison was full of stories of the men subjected to the evil witchery.
Her hair also allowed him to come to another conclusion; he would never be able to try and guess what her reaction would be.
She did not grow up in confinement or service, and Roger didn't know anything about a life outside that.
The last time he was considered free, he had been barely ten, too young to internalize and understand how reality worked.
There was no way he could put himself in the girl's shoes as they had lived lives that had no overlap.
He took a few steps back, uncertainty clouding his judgment.
Leaving the girl seemed to be the safest option still, but some strange force compelled him to stay and protect her, even if it was the riskiest choice.
'There has to be positives, right? What if she is nice and understands I can't be discovered by the government, so she doesn't tell anyone? Or maybe she is like me and is running from the government too! Then we can work together to survive here in the wilderness! There is strength in numbers, after all.'
His mind raced to try to come up with other justifications, and when given a specific goal, his brain easily came up with a plethora.
The girl could have information on Avar, or how the government worked. She could have survival knowledge and be a skilled huntress.
He even tried to justify it on the grounds the Administrator could return and introduce her to the world like he did Roger, allowing him to try and pull some more answers out of him.
Finally deciding that he would stay with her, he then had to decide if he would wait for her to wake up, or if he should try and do so himself.
'Maybe I try and pretend I woke up here with her? That it's my first day too?'
He shook his head at that idea.
'No, that won't work. Too much is already here. She would be curious about where I got the tools, books, and swords. Not to mention the tiger's corpse, those don't just fall from the sky!'
He tilted his head.
'Or do they? I wouldn't put it past Avar to have a beast that can do that.'
Roger knew that he had to be honest with her, at least so far as having already been there for two days, but past that he didn't have to say anything.
He could even change his name if he wanted!
'I have always thought the name Ojero sounded cool, maybe I try and convince her to call me that?'
The thought brought a sly grin to his face, and he noticed too late that the girl's eyes were now open.
Two blue orbs stared at him before she rocketed up and backed away quickly.
A harmonious voice left her lips.
"Who are you? Where are we? What have you done to me!?"
Before he could think, Roger answered, his smile growing wide as he spread his arms out to the side. His sword was still held in one, making for a threatening sight.
"Hey, I'm Roger. Welcome to Avar!"
Inside, his mind was screaming.
'Gods damn it what the hell was that for a first impression?'