Land of Aria

Chapter 4

Fortunately, the uniforms weren't cumbersome metal attire. Instead, they sported form-fitting, long-sleeved black shirts secured with harnesses around their waist and shoulders. Slim black cargo pants adorned with the Arias flag stitched onto one of the side pockets, paired with sturdy black combat boots, completed the ensemble. Their pants were cinched with a brown belt equipped with compartments for weaponry, be it guns or swords, along with a badge proudly proclaiming "Aria: Trainee."

Each shirt bore a specific identification number. Ariels' read "N.90-Q.A.R," while Sam's displayed "N.50-Q.A.R."

"What's 'Q-A-R'?" Eleanor inquired from behind Ariel. "What does that mean?"

"I've heard it stands for Qualified Aria Resident," Sam replied with a chuckle. "That's how you know you're stuck here for good."

"N, ninety," Ariel murmurs, peering down at the number emblazoned on her shirt. "Number ninety?"

"Yeah, I think it indicates which number kid you were when they locked you up down there," Scarlet responds matter-of-factly. She turns to Sam and adds, "Sam was the fiftieth kid to join. You, Ariel, were the ninetieth. I came in right after Sam, as number fifty-one, and Eleanor followed as number sixty."

Sam, the first among them to be confined, had been there the longest. With over a hundred kids now, Sam's tenure underscored her depth of knowledge about the place.

The doors swung open suddenly, revealing the female guard who had escorted them to the room, followed closely by another guard whose gender remained concealed behind an all-encompassing mask. Unlike the female guard, the accompanying figure's identity remained shrouded. Carrying a tray holding two pairs of scissors, the masked guard stood silently by.

"Form two lines," the female guard instructed briskly, gesturing to herself and the silent figure beside her. Without hesitation, the four girls went to take a place in the long forming line, realizing with a sinking feeling that their hair was about to be chopped off, as forewarned.

The process unfolded rapidly since all each guard did seized a handful of hair in their hands and swiftly snipped through it with the sharp scissors, resulting in a uniform shoulder-length cut.

Ariel cast a final glance at her long, red locks before reluctantly surrendering them to the shears. As she looked up, she witnessed Sam's turn.

The guard deftly spun Sam around, grasping a fistful of her hair before the decisive snip echoed in the room.

The severed strands joined the growing piles on the ground, and Ariel observed as Sam's once-flowing blonde locks now rested just above her shoulders, a tangible symbol of their collective sacrifice.

The haircut seemed to have little effect on Sam's beauty. Despite her once-long, straight, and silky blonde locks that cascaded like a sunlit waterfall down her shoulders, her new shorter style accentuated her oval face and soft features. Her face possessed an otherworldly charm, reminiscent of a soft pixie's allure.

Sam beamed up at Ariel. "How does it look?" she asked in a hushed tone, flashing a smile before stepping aside.

Now it was Ariel's turn. Spinning around, she presented her back to the guard and closed her eyes as the scissors glided through her hair. In that moment, her mother's words echoed in her mind: "Take it from me, my little Ariel, never cut your hair. You'll love it when it grows long, you wait and see."

And just like that, Ariel's once waist-length bright red locks lay scattered on the floor beneath her.

She tentatively touched her shortened hair, feeling like a stranger to herself. Running her fingers through her hair, she noticed the absence of the familiar tangles that used to ensnare her. They would fall out easily now.