Kronya was an… eccentric girl.
She bounced with extreme giddiness with every step she took. She'd ramble on about the buildings they'd pass, the people she'd recognize on the streets, and gush about how extraordinary her looks were.
Kronya had no off button to her motor mouth. Her great enthusiasm put Maquia aback a few steps back at the sheer happiness she radiated.
At first, Maquia thought it to be strange. It was incomprehensible.
...But it was refreshing, she admits. The years she's spent in this life was either with her mother or the quick checkups with the mages that come into her daily life twice a month.
But now she sees them every day.
She was uncertain, the mixed bag of feelings being fed the words Kronya says whenever she opens her mouth. She was unsure of what she was getting herself into. It felt too fake but it all felt too real to be something she'd regret.
Strangers. Everyone here were strangers.
She didn't have to get attached to no one.
I want to see mommy.
So Kronya's buoyant eccentric personality pulled her right in.
The food in Shambhala was hard to come by. Plain and lightly seasoned. Vegetation was hard to come by, too. Despite being underground, this subterranean society still managed to grow it too.
Magic was so wonderous.
Food was expensive to the point that only the higher classes could afford it. Plain food didn't seem all too good on Maquia's side but living here for six years was all she could ask for.
So she was surprised when Kronya gave her a stick covered in chunks of blue crystal. Literal sparkles and glimmers emitted from the crystals as they bounced from each blue jewel.
"...What is this supposed to be?" Maquia had a feeling it would one of those rock candies she avoided in her previous life. Her teeth back then were full of cavities and silver fillings, and anything would rot them with one candy… Yeah, let's not go there.
Kronya flicked her own stick, the crystals echoed a faint ring and created a spark. Maquia's eyes widened, blinking. Unsure, she extended her own stick far away from her.
"It's a candy!" The older girl exclaims loudly, waving it around. Instead of sparks, an icy breeze passed through Maquia. "I begged my Gramps to make me some so I can share them with you!" She cringes when Kronya takes a huge bite out of the sparkling sweet.
"It's really good. Food like this isn't really easy find, y' know? Gramps was really reluctant to make these since magic's hard to replenish and—" She tunes out the orange-haired girl, focusing on the candy.
She hesitantly licks it, brushing the rough edges and corners. She blinks when she feels her tongue cool, like having a mint strip in your mouth but less burning.
Magical candy. Whoever invented it was a genius.
Maquia takes a peek at Kronya, who was busy chowing down on her half-eaten stick. Strings of thoughts and unanswered questions flooded her mind.
She shrugged.
The girl took a bite out of the candy.
She supposes that the magical candy was just for show and the delight of children. It was just as she expected.
It wasn't as sweet but the magic popping on her tastebuds made it better.
She expects to see Kronya come into her room, ready to drag her out to sightsee Shambhala. Again.
It's not her, disappointingly. It is another mage, drabbed in red and black, and the bird mask clinging to their face.
"Kronya is at the Academy right now." The mage—a young, soft but rough, boyish voice spoke beneath the mask. "I will be her replacement when she isn't available."
Maquia gives a quiet, "Okay." and goes back to staring the wall in peaceful solitude.
The man stands there, silent and still as a rock. The more her eyes stare into the blank white abyss, the more her eyes wander ever so often to the mage standing near the door with his hands clasped behind him.
"..." She opens her mouth to say something—her tongue dry and her throat closes up. She stutters out her words. "Do you know when my mother will wake up?"
She still felt quite wary of the mages that were around her. Often they'd guide her by tugging her arm or lock her in her room in the dark if they'd see no use.
Her mother—her mother would've openly disliked the treatment, whether it is small and subtle or open and big of a deal. She'd linger around her, blocking her from the glinting eyes of the people that'd stare at her. Her eyes would sometimes turn into cat-like slits, the mages and civilians alike scurrying away like mice.
She recalls her mother singing to her, murmuring a soft, achingly familiar song to her ears.
She'd tell her stories of blue skies, a shining sun, and the strong smell of earth and vegetation that surrounded the world.
She would've done more if it weren't for her frail body. She would've grown into a strong muscled woman if she'd take care of herself and go to the mages for healing.
Was it wrong to worry for a woman she'd only known for six years?
(... Maquia knows something's wrong. The pit in her stomach, the gut that is trying to warn her. She pushes it to the back of her mind, as it is the least of her problems without realizing it… )
"You speak very clearly for a youngling. Did Kronya teach you?" The mage's hands come from behind his back, folding in front of him. She watches him blankly, an urge to remove that dirty mask of his face. "But your mother will be fine, with time and rest. Saint Zahras will give her closure."
Maquia doesn't say anything after that, the boredom lulling her to sleep.
"Hey, mom. I, um, made a new friend. Two of them, actually." The unsaid, 'I think' wasn't included, as it felt too wrong to mention.
Her mother was moved to a new room, with windows this time. Maquia could see the rest of the capital from her mother's room. It was quite lively, and normal at least. Smelled nice, too.
"The first one's Kronya. She's weird, but she's been my only company here." She paused. "But you're still my 'number one' ." Taking her mother's pale, bony hand she leaned on it and continued. "She made me run around Shambhala —the city, I mean. Not the whole capital itself—and showed me everything, really. It was… fun, I guess."
Silence flooded the room. The whir of machines in the background and the soft breaths Maquia breathed. Weakly, she asked, "Are you awake?" her small fingers prodding the sleeping beauty's eyelids.
"There's this weird part of the city Kronya brought me over to… it's got this awful feeling there, like—like it feels ancient but wrong. "
Maquia paused, picking her head up. Something lit up in her bright green eyes, and everything came rushing out in one babble.
"Oh! And there this mage that's Kronya's replacement," Here, she enunciated her words slowly. "Well, the replacement mage of another replacement mage for Kronya. He's—"
"—A friend to keep you company."
The mage who was currently watching her hands her a stuffed rabbit. It was childish with its baby blue button eyes and drawn in smiling mouth. Maquia dutifully takes it.
Kronya was out doing who knows what. Maquia was left to sitting in her room with another babysitter to watch her.
"Now, what do you say?"
This one particular mage had some sort of patience to come in and talk to her. Most of the time, they'd just stand outside the door like silent crows. This one was noisy and nice.
Just like her mom, but this noisy bird was so open .
"...Thank you, Mister Odesse."
Odesse nodded furiously, his mask bobbing along. She catches a glimpse of his face—a masculine and baby faced light grey tint that made her wonder hat he looked like underneath his mask.
The steel door was slammed open with a loud bang. Startled, Odesse jumped several inches from the ground. Maquia laughed, burying her face into the stuffed rabbit's fur to muffle the sound.
"I'm back!" Kronya, all in her dark combat jumpsuit and sharp high heels, comes barreling in with a sack over her shoulder. She shoves Odesse to the side like worthless papers, making him wheeze.
"I brought back from things too, so we can go through it together!" The teen drops the sack like a bag of potatoes and empties it next to her bed. "We can also decorate around here too, to—y' know, make the Bishops put us together more?"
"OH! We can also make Mister Odesse teach us some stuff from these things!" She proceeds to snatch something from the pile—a litter of books, worn devices, and pencils and crayons—and pulls out a book. She opens it, dust spraying everywhere.
Maquia sneezes.
"Please don't tell me you stole that from the Ancient Texts, you horrible child." The mage patted his robes for imaginary dust and adjusted his mask. He looked over the pile and reached for one of the books, shaking his head.
Ancient Texts were essentially the libraries here. Go figure.
Maquia spent a few minutes looking over Kronya's shoulder to get a peek at the pages. All in the place of the language she once knew, scribbles, symbols, and lines ended each line from top to bottom.
Maquia realizes that she's never seen the true language of this world.
Well, she's seen those magical tomes used on the streets but its pages were blank and bare.
"Psst, Maquia, what does this mean—"
She doesn't know how to read.
"Say, Mister Odesse, what's this say—"
She hears the mage's irritated grumbles and his slow shuffles. He takes-snatches-the book from Kronya's hands delicately like glass. Kronya's hands then scramble to take back her treasure. She let out a slight, high-pitched yelp when Odesse's gloved hand sparked with black energy.
His silence turned to mutterings, grumbles, and the crinkling of robes. Odesse clears his throat after a moment of silence, "Do you know what this book is about?"
Kronya scrunches up her face, "What's this have to do with—"
"This book is a biography of Agartha's second emperor, Zahras. He took over the first emperor after the Nabatean Invasion, mind you." Odesse tutted, "Now, Kronya, if your academics serves me right you'd be in your fifth year, yes? Well, do you know what this means?" He taps a column of elegant, blocky letters. With only his mask on, Odesse's voice grew a pitch higher.
It was as if he was thrilled about something, trying to urge whatever answer out of Kronya. Like a fanboy, trying to see if a random stranger knows all about their most favorite book.
Ugh.
Wait a minute, Nabatean Invasion? Zahras?
"Uhh," Kronya starts, "I don't know?"
Even with his mask on, Odesse's face fell and his shoulders slumped. He straightened back up again and stepped into the teen's bubble.
"You stupid, stupid child." The orange-haired girl hissed at him, taking a stance resembling a tiger ready to pounce. "Have you not been listening to your teachers?"
"What's it mean." Maquia cuts in, softly. Odesse had unfortunately fallen into Kronya's honey trap, luring in her victims so she can just make her own argument and win her way out. Their bickering was going nowhere, and Kronya looked like she was ready to end it in a plan B.
("I'm always right, right Maquia?")
"Whaaaaat?! Don't tell me you're interested in this—this nerd stuff!"
"It's—" She pauses, looking for a simple word that a teenager like her friend would understand. "I wanna know. About Zahras, I mean." She squeaked. The Nabatean Invasion, too.
Here, Odesse vibrated with excitement. The young mage contrasted visibly with the short-haired teen, who was groaning.
"As I said before, Zahras was the second emperor of Agartha. Though, to be honest, he's better left forgotten. It's why this ancient text was in the forbidden section." He paused, "He was said to be charismatic and knowledgeable, but deranged and full of savage nature, and said to have brought our ancestors here to live underground. With his status as emperor, Agarthans prospered."
"Oh." Maquia realized. "But why's this book forbidden?"
"A dictator, he was described as. Still is. I won't get into it much, but he is responsible for the Divide of Agartha."
The Divide? That sounded like a passage coming out from the Bible.
Seeing the confusion on her face, Kronya put in her own words. "Shambhala has two kinds of people. The ones that worship Zahras as a God, and the ones that just want to live a normal life." The teen crossed her arms. "Plus, I heard those Zahras weirdos created their own cult."
Then, Odesse grumbled out, "Your current emperor is one of those so-called weirdos." He was ignored, but Maquia caught it just in time. She opened her mouth—
"Who's emperor now?" Odesse shook out of his stupor.
"No one is."
She eyed him in disbelief. "But you just said—"
"No one is an emperor, child."
She blinked in surprise, taken aback. Kronya shot the mage a stink eye, grabbing several dull-colored crayons and pencils. The teen grinned, pointing at the blank white wall.
"C'mon! Let's add some color to your room!"
"—unusual. Odesse seems to know everything from historical facts to, just, unnecessary knowledge. It's as if he's got some split personality when I tried to ask him who was the current emperor of Agartha."
"And then, Kronya—" Maquia let out a small 'huh' when the hand under her own clasped around her wrist. "Mom?"
She whispers, full of uncertainty, "Are you awake now?" There was no response. The same old, same old.
Gently, she pulled away from her mother's grasp. There was a knock on the door, signaling her time was up. The pointy-eared child sighed sadly.
Not this time, I guess.
"Is something wrong?" Kronya asked, poking her cherub cheek. She pouted when she did get her answer from her smaller, green friend. The two walked down the narrow hallway, going down several stairs to get to the exit.
"Your mom looks pretty. Prettier than mine, actually. Mine looks pretty ugly."
Without holding it in, Maquia let out a small laugh. Her viridian, inhuman eyes sparkled with amusement at a blunt, childish comment.
The older girl gasped, "You laughed! Ohohoh! Are you gonna tell me all your hidden secrets now?"
"What? No."
"C'mon." The teen elbowed her, nudging her tiny body to spit out her secrets. "Aren't friends supposed to tell each other secrets?"
They stepped out of the automatic doors. The blue lights were dimmed, a sign that it was starting to get late.
"...Close friends are." She enunciated, uncertain of the answer.
"Am I a close friend?"
.
.
.
.
"Not sure."
From the depths of my mind, I have granted you all a 2K+ chapter. I now have to update all my other works.
Odesse is a real character by the way. He's not going to be as important but he's going to be here for a while. Zahras is a spell, too.
I lost my sense of taste and smell after a bad fever in April. I'm beginning to think it's permanent.
-zakuro