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Nostalgia.
Such a dangerous, yet beautiful, broad spectrum of memories and emotions. It carries a sort of length that can’t be traced; it’s incomprehensible in all its glory.
That’s why I despise it.
Like a child’s scribbles, I cannot evaluate the meaning or purpose. It’s just an endless loop - mainly of the past - that comes in so many different shapes and forms. Why bother if all you can do is tangle yourself in an illusion? To escape an abyss is to climb the ladder up, not down. Isn’t that obvious to mortals?
No, it’s not.
Because through the opportunities of escape, still some choose to stay; in a world where ideologies and morals overpower instinct is a future undecided.
Though I’m not eloquent on the subject of life and morals, I do believe that to be idealistic is to be hopelessly blind, and for someone to believe an impending catastrophe hidden behind the waking mind of the world is to be caught in a vicious bite from their own teeth.
Between said thoughts of life, however, was a keen, intelligent boy whose existence - in retrospect - consisted of constant trade and negotiation, no time set aside for belief nor morals. Through the eyes of the common folk he seemed intimidating; his distant, placid nature - along with his daring appearance - averted others away from the likeliness of socializing with him. All he was to be known for was his place, a skilled hunter, in this never-ending game of survival.
For the right price, as the young boy would state, he’d do anything.
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Upon the whistle and chatter of exotic animals lay the Scions of the Canopy in all euphonious light, resting on a cliff sturdy of stone. Small, oblivious creatures - yumkasaurus - raced and darted across the rough terrain; their mothers chirped in amusement. They scurried far and wide underneath the scorching sun, earning themselves a worthy practice for their endeavors in the future.
That is, if there was to be a future for the young ones with their mothers around.
However, emerging from a distant plateau was a hunter with a claymore by his side - opulent in green and yellow - darting from one spot to another using his grappling hook. His eyes were cut into slits like a lizard’s; his expression was doused with concentration and calculation. Every step he made sounded that of a mouse’s movement, light and swift thanks to his nimble build.
Within seconds, the old yumkasaurus screeched, interrupting the melody of birds with a deafening howl. Though it offered all it could to fight, the skilled hunter spared no mercy and finished it off, resulting in a body lifeless and immobile. He offered no distinct expression of regret nor sympathy, for this saurian had hurt others and may hurt its own children in the upcoming days.
“BORRRINGG!! SO BOOOORRRRINGGG! HURRY UP, KINICH!”
The young boy - Kinich - ignored the rambunctious voice of his saurian companion, Ajaw. (Its appearance was rather odd; only one could describe it as a ‘dragon’ or, perhaps, a mutated snail).
More often than not it moans and wails, as if that’s all it’s ever known to do. Each word that erupted from the saurian’s mouth carried no depth, making it meaningless to listen to its blabbering. Thankfully, with a flick of his hand Kinich could dismiss the creature into temporary confinement without hearing its further complaints.
It was like time-out, or whatever you call it.
Despite its non-stop whining, however, Ajaw did prove useful in battle in times where Kinich was found in a plight. Apparently, he was a ‘dragonlord’ before being sealed away for an ‘anonymous reason’ lasting around a millennia. No wonder he always has something to say, the odd little thing hadn’t spoken to anyone for centuries!
Now, Kinich untied a thick, coarse rope from his waist and proceeded to loop the yumkasaurus once, twice, three times before making a tough knot. Upon looking at the still body did Kinich feel a sense of sympathy, but that was simply human nature and he hadn’t thought much of it. This saurian was dangerous and fierce.
Hoisting the animal on his back, Kinich watched as the young yumkasaurus froze in fear, and for a moment, he could’ve sworn he saw himself in one of their eyes. Hurt. Lost. They hadn’t known it yet, but their parents were deadly. Sadistic, fierce creatures who choose food over love; like a shark, they saw no purpose or meaning in their own children.
Alas, Kinich averted his gaze and stumbled slightly on his feet - quickly adjusting to the weight of the creature - before grappling his body off the ground.
As Kinich swung around the terrain of his home, light scents of the forest danced around his nose, and the palpable light of the sun shone down on him like a warm shower. From afar, you’d think Kinich was flying as he fluttered from mountain to mountain so effortlessly. It was impressive, considering the fact that he had a rotund animal on his hands.
However, Kinich wasn’t particularly thinking about the hefty mora he’d earn as of now from this kill, rather the life of Natlan and its distinctiveness. He could hear the babble of nearby birds as they twirled and soared over the horizon. The grumble of ginormous saurians that chewed off a leaf from a resting tree. Such were the lullabies Kinich had surrounded himself with, for no one was there to hum and stroke his hair lovingly. The whispers that encased Kinich in a reverie of never-ending skies expanding from the very tips of his fingers.
If he closed his eyes, he could cultivate the Abyss into a distant nightmare that never flourished in the killings of humans and animals. With a snap of his fingers, all things war would fall into oblivion and never come back.
Such were the wishes of Kinich, quite idealistic compared to his contradicting personality.
Nonetheless, Kinich had always known he couldn’t be a hero like he’d read in comic books from his youth, zapping villains or defeating the Abyss entirely. Instead, he’d made himself a man of deals and contracts, one involving his own life.
Everything comes at a price.
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The combining melody of a thousand hums and drums spilled from the hands of the musicians, letting loose a series of ecstasy and excitement. Sand dug underneath the audiences’ feet despite wearing sandals, and their hips swayed to the rhythm of the gliding ocean. Music was everywhere, if you looked hard enough. Even if you studied the sky, you could hear the chorus of the stars as they joined together to make horoscopes - guides that told us about our world.
That was what Mualani loved deeply, the reassurance of one thing to another, the beauty of helping and caring. As such, she became a guide - a star amidst the horoscope - of the People of the Springs.
“Mualani!” Sang a voice, temporarily interrupting the blast of the band, “can you recommend the best spots for sightseeing? I’m stumped on what to do this evening.”
Caught slightly by surprise, Mualani turned around and yelped in happiness, immediately wrapping her arms around whoever was talking to her, now identified as Yana, one of her good friends - as if she wasn’t friends with everybody - and nodded enthusiastically as she spoke.
“You could go to Tequemecan Valley - the colors and sights are breathtaking. Just don’t forget to have a good time and let me know how it goes!”
Yana smiled in return and gave her thanks before walking away promptly, seemingly excited for her new idea of adventure.
After she’d left, Mualani sang along with the booming music and tapped her foot, swinging her body from side-to-side as the sky crept into a bleed of orange and yellow, spreading out towards the tribe like a cordial embrace. Mualani pushed her way through the crowd and found a crowded hot spring, - there was an abundant amount in the tribe - dipping her toes in and giggling when someone occasionally cracked a joke.
This life was practically perfect, aside for some downsides, but why focus on those when you have so many beauties to cherish and admire?
It wasn’t that Mualani ignored all the problems that constantly occurred in her everyday life, in fact, she’d take it head on and sacrifice herself if it meant saving someone she loved.
Such as the night she got her vision - the night when the Abyss attacked and rapidly caused mayhem within the tribe. Mualani stood up and so did her friends, and despite being face-to-face with danger, she still maintained her ground and defended what she knew.
Now, Mualani peered over her shoulder and observed the landscape crawling beyond her vision. It was astonishing, enchanting, even.
She had decided she would go to the Basin of Unnumbered Flames to explore with Kachina tomorrow, more specifically the Stadium of the Sacred flame. Kachina was overjoyed to hear that they were selling grain-fruit chips, so they had to go.
Kachina - one of Mualani’s bestest friends; a timid child from another tribe, the Children of the Echoes. Her abilities are overlooked, however, as Kachina is fierce whilst in the heat of the battle yet still misinterpreted as ‘weak’ or ‘shy’. Her persistent nature and eagerness to learn allows her to grow into what she wants to be, and Mualani is undeniably supportive of her determined friend.
Nevertheless, Kachina is but a child; the bitter words of others stick in her thoughts like glue on paper. Thus, Mualani has decided to set up an enjoyable, free day where the both of them could be boisterous and cheeky without the feeling of being judged or spat at. Where their hearts could unfurl and their voices could echo throughout the nation, where their smiles could shine and their hums be heard.
As if the thought intruded her thinking-space, she spontaneously decided to invite Kinich as well. It wouldn’t hurt to have the three of them together, and it benefited Kachina to have him with her. It was cute to see them both bonding and getting along.
Above the bloom of life drifted the night sky, swallowing the last dips of sunlight over the horizon; it unravelled the shine of stars dot across the sky. Mualani watched as the pinkish-white seagrass swirled underneath the crystalline-blue water, connecting together in a sort of beat to the music.
Blue and pink were her lucky colors - as said by Granny Citlali - and since then, she’d surround herself in everything colorful. It also helped that pink and blue floaters were her best seller, too.
This stems from the fact that Mualani is the type to be afraid of jinxing things - not necessarily superstitious, but she believed that everything had a sense of luckiness to it. That’s why you can often find the peppy guide at the Masters of the Night Wind tribe - seeking suggestions or recommendations from Citlali, a renowned fortune teller.
It always eased her mind a bit, knowing that what she was doing didn’t have a string of misfortune on it.
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Daylight arrived and so did the burst of chatter from crowds in the Stadium of the Sacred Flame; there were always merchants offering exclusive deals and luxurious items from Fontaine and Sumeru. Or, if you were feeling ravenous, you could take a stroll through the street vendors that offered savory treats and tender beef skewers. Maybe even stews enriched with all sorts of spices found across Natlan - some Kinich was well informed of - the broth melting and coating your tongue in an abundance of flavors. Safe to say, this place had it all.
Including commissioners looking for a suitable hunter for their needs.
Despite being a part of the Scions of the Canopy, Kinich always found himself here looking for missions involving mora or fine rewards. There were plenty of people - especially tourists - making it easy to accept dozens of commissions each day.
However, underneath the scorching sun and blissfully beautiful vibrant colors of nature, Kinich had decided to sit on the outskirts of the Stadium to gaze at the bountiful flowers.
It was an understatement to say that the weather was sublime, in fact, it was bewitching - intoxicating Kinich with each breath he took of the scenery. He could spend hours admiring the plants or simply staring, but he had a job to do.
What he hadn’t expected was the job to be spending time with Mualani and Kachina.
“GAH! Not you two peasants once more! Leave immediately or you shall face the wrath of the Almighty Dragonlord, K’uhul Ajaw,” screeched the saurian beside Kinich in an appalling tone, his once green skin a lavish of reds and oranges.
Kinich scoffed under his breath and promptly dismissed him, nodding at Mualani as she approached him cheerfully. She didn’t seem bothered by Ajaw, but if she was, she wasn’t showing it. Alongside Mualani was Kachina, equally excited to see Kinich, but her body tensed slightly at the sound of Ajaw. Such expressions were to be expected as Ajaw was generally disliked among everyone.
“Hello to my favorite Scions of the Canopy boy!” Mualani exclaimed, twirling and propping her hands on her hips. Kachina grinned from ear to ear, doing the same motion with a gleam in her eyes.
He first met the two after Mualani paid him to ‘train’ Kachina, which was rather odd at first, but they turned out to be worthy acquaintances. He couldn’t care less as long as he was being compensated.
However, Kinich didn’t view them as customers or commissioners anymore, rather as friends. Which was odd in retrospect - who would want to be friends with an intimidating, cold boy? But, these two saw past this fabricated image, reaching their hands out to accompany Kinich and his endeavors. They didn’t pity him or anything, just stood by his side.
Despite Kinich’s initial opinion of having friends - he’d thought they were pointless and would get in his way - he still spent some of his time with them for free.
It’s inspiring how much others could change your life, either for the better or for the worst, they leave an everlasting impact. They could paint vibrant colors on your blank, desolate canvas, or cover it up for no one to see. Like flowers and plants, each person is unique - different in their own, special way. It’s hard to replicate their eccentric marks through words or paintings, to trace each trait they have ever exhibited in their lifetime.
Humans live and forget. Move on and forgive. That was beautiful, all on its own.
“I was just wondering if you wanted to join along? Kachina and I found an awesome spot earlier today!” Mualani made some sort of motion with her hands, emphasizing on ‘awesome.’ She flashed Kachina her quirky smile and leaned down to offer her hand.
How could someone be so affectionate, so effortlessly loving? Her smile alone was so bright and for a moment, Kinich thought he’d go blind.
“Alright,” Kinich accepted, his heart drumming in his chest, anticipating the prospective adventure.
Though living here all his life, he still hadn’t explored as much as Mualani did and was always awestruck on the mystifying landscapes and terrain of Natlan no matter where he was at. Trust Mualani to find the best spots, that’s one thing Kinich was positive about.
After a while of breaking through tangled vines and the occasional intermission of singing from Mualani and Kachina, they finally stopped at what seemed to be a small pit of grass shielded by trees, the lucent rays of the sun breaking through the leaves.
It was breathtaking.
The view was enchanted with multiple rich hues of greens, blues, and reds, all a perfect mix. The coil curtains of vines and trees hung like towers over the three, and for a moment, Kinich forgot to breathe.
He felt so small underneath such greatness - engrossing him like a mouse in a cheese-trap. The chirps of grasshoppers and buzz of bees swirled like rich honey, blending with the background as seamless as a painting. It was so surreal. Looking up was like finding yourself in a trance - the baby blue of the sky complimented the deep, flamboyant greens of the landscape, and you couldn’t stop gaping. Kinich surely wasn’t.
Mualani giggled, instantly pulling Kinich from his temporary reverie but not his awe.
“What do you think, Kinichi?”
“It’s beautiful,” Kinich breathed, stepping over leaves coated with a variety of patterns, making his way towards Mualani and Kachina. They were now nestled underneath the canopy of the trees, poking at each other with twisted grins on both of their faces. He sat next to Mualani, keeping a respectable distance, and only then did he realize what Mualani had called him.
Kinichi.
She hadn’t called him that before - actually, no one had - but he didn’t mind.
Mualani swatted at him and he flinched slightly before regaining his composure, the tingling of a smile on his lips. She seemed to be always overflowing with joy, but it wasn’t an extreme, uncomfortable amount. It was more infectious.
Not only was she always brimming with kindness, she was resilient, not one to back down when given the opportunity to protect someone. Kinich liked that about her.
Leaning against the bark of the tree, Kinich breathed in the scents of the forest, closing his eyes to listen to the heartbeat of the animals. Apparently, he was tired, no, exhausted, making it easier for him to release all tension in his body. The wind whipped his hair around slightly, tickling his neck and providing him peace. It was oddly comforting.
Suddenly, Kinich heard rustling and felt something heavy on his arm, fluttering his eyes open to see Kachina nestled in his side. She also seemed rather tired, drowsy eyes and heavy breathing residing in her movement.
“I think we should take her back home,” Mualani said, voice barely above a whisper. She seemed cautious, careful not to break the enchantment of the forest.
He nodded in agreement, tilting his head up to look at Mualani, sharing a soothing moment of silence for just a heartbeat.
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Exploding like bursts of wild fireworks, people run and scream desperately for help. The calls of needing pound against her ears, and she announces loud and boldly, fighting back the fearness in her voice.
“I will stay back. I will help!”
She waves her hand around, raising her sound at the end of her sentence. Her teeth gnaw at the skin of her cheek; her body shakes uncontrollably. She is immensely eager to assist, but a hand grips her shoulder and pulls her inside her house before she could take action. Just moments ago they were all laughing, being witty, small children amidst the tranquility of the night. What had they done to deserve this terrifying outburst?
“No, stay with Papa, dear.” Her mom soothes, letting go of her shoulder, gliding a lone finger to guide the tears falling out of her eyes away. They still sting - piercing under her skin - and she lets out a hiccup full of saliva as she watches her mom sprint out of the door. She leaves behind a faint scent of rosemary and eucalyptus, though before the girl could breathe it all in, to try to ingrain its smell into her core, something tugged on her shoulder and she fell back.
Just at that moment did more screams penetrate the air and she flung her hands over her ears, yelling out loud as if it’ll distance the chaos away from her.
Searing her eyes shut did the serene of the night return; she was alone in her room, humming to a mellow tune whilst gazing out the window. Dots of life emerged from the carpet of black and she smiled softly, holding her own hand in hers. Fingers ran through her hair despite not using her own, and she flutters her eyes open to bleary sights of her father - tear-streaked cheeks and somber eyes hanging from his eye-sockets.
“Where’s Mama?” She asks, finding her voice at the last bits of her words. They were nestled in an abandoned corner full of dust and forgotten trinkets. “Where are we?”
“Promise me you’ll always look up in the skies,” he mutters, his eyes full with water, “and follow the brightest star.”
She tilts her head slightly, confused, but the words of her father carried over to her with unusual depth; she could almost feel the weight of his eyes on hers. She breathes out heavily before nodding, sucking in a shaky breath.
“Okay, Papa.”
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Shades of gray blended in the background as the sun rose and shone, taking the spotlight of what was the moon’s. Its fierce, lucent rays spread and tangled the sky in color; grabbing a hold of the clouds. Days had passed in minutes; weeks in seconds.
The sun’s beams of light blinded Mualani’s eyes for just a moment as she glanced up to study the sunrise, resting her elbows on the shop’s counter, her head on her hand. She hummed a sweet, gentle tune as the veil of the morning rose; the people of the tribe followed suit. Squeaks of young children and echoes of laughter were heard - the happiness so palpable Mualani could cup it between her hands.
As the day melted by like ice cream underneath a scorching sun, occasional greetings and smiles flashed to Mualani’s way. She’d return them with the equal amount of buoyancy, if not, more. Customers came and went; it was a steady, smooth day cruising along the brinks of nightfall. The sun wailed slightly as it reached for the moon, its fingertips closing around the stars of the sky. The moon held its head low and watched in anguish as the sun drowned in the midst of darkness, calling its name as though it would come back. However, it still continued its course, reaching the horizon and spreading its light like the sun had.
Only then did the tribe flourish underneath the everlasting moonlight, still keeping the remains of repose from the quiet beginnings of the day when the sun was still present. Mualani was getting ready to close the shop; she had cleaned and polished the wood before gathering her bags and heading off.
“Mualani!” Called out a high-pitched voice, and Mualani turned to see a woman just years younger than her. Her hair was tied into two loose, brown pigtails; she looked like she had been running for hours. Sweat ran through her face and her lips were dry.
Mualani was instantly alarmed.
“Are you okay? Is everything okay? Here,” Mualani smiled, trying to subside the rumbling panic stirring in her gut as she pulled out a rubber flask, “drink some water.”
“Thank you,” the girl wheezed, her breath short and her hands shaky as she practically snatched the flask. She spent a minute recollecting herself, flushed cheeks and harsh breathing dwindling as time passed.
“Take your time,” Mualani reassured, sitting on the steps of the store whilst signaling for the girl to do the same. Up close, she seemed to have freckles invading almost every part of her face, but it was hard to tell under the raw night.
When the girl seemed to have composed herself, she handed the flask back to Mualani and whispered a soft apology.
“It’s okay, you’re safe now,” Mualani soothed, giving the flask back to the young girl for her to keep. She hadn’t introduced herself or anything; Mualani took this silence as an invitation to speak.
“I haven’t properly metcha’,” Mualani grinned, nudging the girl’s shoulder softly. She didn’t gain any response besides a slight tilt of the girl’s head, so she continued. “As you know, my name’s Mualani. What about you? Unless you want me to give you a nickname? That’s okay, too!”
The girl mustered a weak grin at Mualani, accepting the gift and averting her gaze back to her feet - seemingly thinking for a moment before opening her mouth.
“Nickname,” the girl breathed, rubbing sweat off of her forehead. She was tapping her leg constantly as if she were wanting to do something. Mualani took this into account and tried to think quickly; she wouldn’t want to keep the girl waiting.
“How about…Tails? Like for your pigtails?”
“Tails?” The girl raised an eyebrow, swiftly dismissing the name.
“Hmm..” Mualani rested a finger on her chin, tapping it repeatedly before her mind latched onto a perfect, suitable name for the girl. “Star? Because all the freckles on your face look like stars, and I really like stars!”
Star nodded and thumbed with her hair, twirling it slightly before shuddering abruptly. She caught herself and despite looking content moments ago, her face dropped and her eyebrows were knit into a fine pattern. Star seemed to be in pain.
“Are you cold? We can go to my house where it’s warmer,” Mualani offered, rustling through her bag to check if she’d pack anything warm. But the girl simply shook her head, sniffling slightly.
“I can’t find my friend, I’ve looked all over, but she’s gone.”
Acknowledging this, Mualani stopped rummaging and she immediately took the girl in for a large embrace; squeezed her tightly to let her know that it was okay and that they’ll find her. That she was here for her, and that it was okay to cry and feel and be afraid.
“We’ll look for your friend and find her. I’m sure she was just exploring and got lost; she's safe, I know it.”
Mualani spoke with certainty; she wasn’t going to end this day without finding the girl first. If someone had sought her for help, she’d assist however she could, even if it took all she could give.
“Let’s go, Star. A beautiful, new adventure awaits us!”
“Now?”
Grinning from ear-to-ear, Mualani pulled the girl to her feet in reply and swung her around, promptly making her laugh and giggle despite the somber mood seconds ago.
It was magical, how contagious laughter can be, how fast joy could spread. It was magical how it seemed like time flew by like birds in the sky as that happiness flourished; the moon lost its balance and fell, letting the sun enchant the skyline and emit its light once more. They had found Star’s beloved friend, and Mualani had promised to stay in touch. To her, every ‘stranger’ is just a friend you haven’t met; without a doubt she’d see Star and her friend once more.
As animals whistled and people sang, Mualani spent most of the morning snoozing; the adventure she had the night before drained every ounce of energy in her body. However, as soon as her bleary eyes opened to meet the daylight, she felt instantly recharged and eager to dance along new horizons. It was a blessing yet a curse at the same time - she was itching to explore nonstop.
Packing her bag with fresh water from the springs as well as home-cooked food, she set off to the Scions of the Canopy.
Blades of grass brushed against Mualani’s legs as she skipped effortlessly against the cliff’s edge, whooping and giggling lightheartedly. The wind whipped her braids around, briskly letting hair fall on her eyes. She blinked them away, spreading her arms out as she twirled.
Mualani felt like she was unbound from the chains of life and its disturbing secrets, instead dancing on the surface like a ballerina. Everything was imperfect, everything had its flaws. Mualani loved that so much. Each music note she’d hit she’d never make it flawless, instead mixed with pure bliss and infatuation.
Flaws were what made each day so wonderfully distinct; what is better than to embrace them? To conquer the manacles of desolate voids and unleash broad bands of colors, to spread your wings, even if they’re tattered and injured. Mualani, in her own lenses of life, believed that through the adversity of despair does courage thrive, and in the dry deserts of anguish does optimism rain.
After her moment of serenity in the fields of the distant tribe, she found herself stumbling to a nearby tree, panting heavily as she caught her knees. Groaning, she lay exhausted on the grass, sucking in quick breaths of the sweet air. She wasn’t the best at running around unlike Kinich - she was mainly adept with the tides and waves of the ocean. She twisted her body to look for her bag, but it wasn’t there. In fact, it wasn’t anywhere.
Aromas of desserts and savory foods were tickling her nose; Mualani’s mind a fog of exhaustion and hunger. Where had her bag gone? How long had she been out here?
Surely not long?
Unfortunately, Mualani’s eyes felt sticky - they seemed stuck in their place as she tried to avert her vision to the sky. She hadn’t meant to be out here longer than a couple of hours; any expert adventurer would know that it was foolish to be out in the wild without proper food or equipment.
However, Mualani simply dismissed it as a minor mistake, and laughed at herself.
She’d been too carried away and found herself underneath the shade of a tree, utterly weary with something needed to slake her thirst, but it all felt so comforting. She was a human, she made a mistake, so what?
Hopefully this didn’t bring misfortune, though, as she’d have to make another long trip to consult Granny Citlali.
Suddenly, quick, tapping noises rent through the melodies of nature. They seemed to be close to her left side as she lay on her back with her eyes closed, legs and arms sprawled like a starfish. Great, now she was hallucinating.
Yet she felt something rustle by her side; instinctively flung her eyes open and jumped back in alarm, hands close to her chest as she scoured her surroundings frantically.
“Kinich?” She’d yelp in surprise, heat rising up to her cheeks.
Stood just before her was the reserved, yet courageous hunter, his expression tight as if hidden by a veil. He seemed rather dissatisfied, though Mualani knew better than to make groundless assumptions.
“I-it’s so good to see you!” Mualani stammered from all the adrenaline coursing through her veins, yet to settle and calm down. Once she regained her senses, the exhaustion hit once more like a boulder, and Mualani did everything in her power not to yawn.
Then, as she processed what had just happened, small hints of embarrassment crawled up her spine, stinging her skin and setting it ablaze. Or was that from all the energy a moment ago?
He seemed to notice this as something in his demeanor shifted, catching Mualani slightly off guard.
“It seems like you’ve overworked yourself,” he commented, though his tone was more acknowledging than fierce.
She’d expect him to continue whatever he had been doing, but he stayed, his sharp eyes locked onto hers.
Mualani flashed him a wide smile, assuring him that she was alright, but he kept his feet planted on the grass. He then unzipped one of his pockets and pulled out a small container, handing it to Mualani.
“It’s water.”
Then, he averted his gaze to a lone flower and crossed his arms over his chest. It was unlike Kinich to act this way - was something bothering him? Mualani took a long, refreshing sip of water, and watched Kinich with concern as she wiped her mouth dry.
“Are you alright?” Mualani blurted, recollecting herself as she approached him, braids swaying from side to side before she tucked them away.
“We can sit underneath the tree if you’d like?”
“Lead the way,” Kinich replied, and suddenly Mualani’s heart was caught in her stomach.
“Okay!” She said, slightly startled.
Kinich wasn’t exactly the one to be bossed around or told what to do, but just now, he had.
Despite being distant and reserved, he was never one to be pulled or tugged from one side to the other. It was endearing, how strong and committed he was to himself only, and Mualani grinned at that thought alone.
Lucky that Kinich hadn’t noticed.
Mualani yawned slightly as she slid down the tree’s bark, sitting down with an ‘oof’ and glimpsing at Kinich as he did the same, just a bit more controlled. She handed Kinich the small flask and exclaimed in thanks. He didn’t reply; Mualani considered that fact that he might be uncomfortable.
However - similar to that one time in the forest - Kinich didn’t seem so tense next to Mualani. He seemed content, even. Hopefully.
They both sat next to each other in assuring silence, Kinich’s fingers just a few inches away from Mualani’s. She turned her head to study his face; yellow-green eyes trapped in another world, unfocused, distracted.
At first, Mualani thought it was stupid, but she reached over to brush her fingers over Kinich’s. The touch was subtle yet Mualani could feel electricity sparking between her finger and his. His eyes seemingly emerged from the deep waters of a daydream as he snapped back to reality, quickly pulling his hand away. At the same time he tilted his head to face Mualani, and she’d look away instantly.
Had she done something wrong?
But, as if to answer her question, she felt something - Kinich’s finger - graze her finger and hook around it, the interaction so delicate yet powerful. She felt the spark again tingling and dancing in the palm of their hands, warmth emitting and melting the panic she’d felt before. Even though the action was subtle, it was still enough to set fireworks off in her heart, to fog her mind with a mixture of emotions.
As the trees started to sway against the blowing wind, leaves rustled and birds called to their chicks; summoning them to the nest for supper. The sun was reaching its final moments, but he had not let go, she had not let go.
They’d stay there, intertwined; they were one piece connected. Mualani’s heart fluttered and she looked back at Kinich, suddenly wishing she could pause this moment in time - to breathe and live like this forever.
However, Mualani knew well that not all days last forever, whether good or bad. There was always the necessity to move on; one of them had to say goodbye, to acknowledge the dwindling daylight, to leave the other.
“I think I should go,” Mualani murmured thoughtfully, though a hint of despair was hidden behind her words. She truly did not think she should go, nor did she want to go. But the longer she would wait, the more misled she would be, the more heartbroken.
“Wait,” Kinich began, the wind ruffling his hair, his eyes locked on to her, “can we meet here again?”
“Of course! Before noon? Tomorrow?” Mualani blurted almost too quickly, as if she had been anticipating him to say so.
Her excitement set off sparks in her blood as she got up, watching as Kinich did the same, taking back his hand. She’d forgotten that they were still holding hands - no, fingers - it all felt so natural, as if they’d been doing that for so long.
Kinich ran a hand through his hair, brushing aside loose strands that caught on his eyes. He seemed to ponder for a moment - his eyes caught on a faraway realm - before nodding his head towards Mualani.
“Tomorrow.”
*************************************************************************************************************
Kinich nearly sprinted out of his house the next day, ignoring Ajaw’s banter and boisterous attitude, his feet acting faster than his mind.
His thoughts had been racing since last night; they had been a plethora of skepticism and confusion. Most of all, though, pounding in his chest, straining its way out of the jungle of noise, he felt an increasing sense of mellowness.
She was incredibly considerate; her personality was intricate, woven of a thousand threads tied together to form a bouquet of blooming, flourishing emotions. She’d taken valuable time out of her day - something she won’t be able to retrieve - and used it to sit with him, talk to him.
Thus, Kinich, just before leaving the tribe’s campgrounds, filled a knitted sack with mora.
He’d decided that 10,000 was enough to compensate her for her precious time.
Once Kinich had found himself at the familiar, soothing spot underneath a lone, wilting tree, he caught his claymore in his hands and threw it aside, watching it for a second longer as it fell and tumbled through the grass. Mavuika had borrowed many of his weapons throughout the wars, and despite them always coming back misshapen, he’d never say anything.
Xilonen was rather pissed, however, when he’d constantly ask for a new one. The look on her face was always quite amusing - he had to admit that.
Kinich, bringing himself back to the rising sun and whistle of wind, situated himself underneath the tree. He felt some sort of pressure on his chest lift; it’s as if a saurian had sat on it for hours, then suddenly raised its giant paw, releasing him, to scour for other prey.
It was calming; a moment for Kinich to be blissful, to be ignorant even for just a minute in the face of all the horrors of the world.
He gazed longingly at the overhead cliffs, dots of life and plants dousing the green of grass. As time eventually quickened, Kinich found himself underneath the sun at its highest point, still no sign of Mualani. Had he misheard what she had said before? Was it before noon, or afternoon?
Disorientated, Kinich sighed, fumbling with the seam of the purse. He should’ve known that she wouldn’t show up. He should’ve known that Mualani was busy, that she didn’t have much time for anything, especially since she was a tour guide. Kinich should know that well himself; time was money and he couldn’t spend it all at once. It was more odd for him to spend it waiting for a girl when he could be earning stacks upon stacks.
That was how he truly felt, after all, he’d always think that way. Right?
Stumped by Mualani’s absence, he stared hard at the bag in his hands, ashamement seeping into his limbs, forming mold in the crevices of his bones. How was he so foolish to think that they had something special, that Mualani wasn’t so affectionate with everyone? It wasn’t her fault at all - it was his. He’d ruin their friendship by being selfish, by asking for more from her. His eyebrows knit together and beams of sweat trickled down his cheek, lighting its path on flames.
It had been 10 minutes.
20.
30.
Kinich watched the sun; its light seemed to dim and grass withered beneath his touch. Rotten, foul smells of flesh hit his nose like a punch, repulsing him immediately in response. He glanced around attentively, as if the scent had a trail for him to follow. The stench was overwhelming; it clogged his senses and wrapped its hands tightly around his throat.
His eyes caught on a grayish - green carcass sprawled in the clearing, maggots squirming and chewing away at its guts, flies swarming around it as if taunting it. Its bones had already given in to the inevitable end, decaying and almost melting away. Ingrained on top of what should’ve been the animal’s skull was an axe, its sharp side facing Kinich, grinning wildly at him.
Then, it went quiet. It was as if Teyvat had stopped in time - even Kinich found himself holding his breath as if he were frozen, too. Minutes seemed to unfold painfully slow, dragging him along with the faraway gusts of winds.
Just as though he thought he’d caught himself in a daydream, a tree branch snapped, taking a hold of his full attention.
In an instant, piercing shrieks and rumbling struck through and stung Kinich’s ears; the light of the sun was almost nowhere to be seen. Clouds covered its glory, unleashing a thunder of rain and wail of lightning. The air was thick with screams. The ground shifted beneath his feet.
Kinich swiftly brought himself up, unlocking his eyes from the corpse, instead bolting full-speed for his claymore. It was all a blur as he sprinted towards his tribe. He called for the chief and reinforcements; he could tell this was more than just an attack.
His breath was cut short as he frantically darted his eyes left to right, menacing cackles erupting, splatters of flesh as they were tossed and thrown.
The Abyss in all its murderous glory, standing before his people, the deafening fumes of anger pulsing within his chest.
He tightened his face as he launched himself at the nearest enemy, efficiently ending its existence with a huff. Kinich went through as many of them as he could. This was all he was to do; Natlan was doomed to be a bridge incomplete - to be pushed over a cliff to fall into oblivion, to be never heard of or seen again. The only way to prevent this was to keep fighting.
This was supposed to be normal. This has always happened, for as long as he could remember.
But Kinich never got used to it.
He thought of the elders of the tribe. The children. The saurians. Where were they now? In a bottomless pit full of rotten corpses? Hunched over their mother’s violet-stained bodies, hidden underneath their father’s lifeless body? Abandoned, forgotten, in a carousel spinning to the tempo of an endless symphony until their sanity drained?
Nothing but mere puppets for the Abyss, nothing but another set of detours.
Kinich felt sick, his mouth dry and his lips chapped - sticking out like shards of glass as he fought.
Adrenaline coursed through every vein in his body, and Kinich kept fighting, swinging, wiping his forehead free of sweat. Swinging, breathing, breathing. He was in a program that kept running, operating, a wired machine slashing and destroying anything it deemed unworthy for his sight.
Fighting, swinging, breathing.
Fight. Swing. Breathe.
*************************************************************************************************************
In the scribbles of her mind fell the world; crumbling into pieces as if it were mere paper.
The lasting silence was thick - suffocating, even - and the unyielding blackness of the void seemed to be inching closer, whispering to Mualani, hissing her name.
She’d open her mouth to scream, to make any noise, but nothing came out.
Restraints of agony had cuffed her wrists and ankles, disabling her movement.
There was no sun. There was no music. No moon, nobody, nothing. There was only the weight of not knowing.
“Mualani, keep fighting,” rang a voice, though as distant as it was, it had lit a spark of hope in Mualani’s chest.
I’m here! Hello?
In the attempt of communication she’d fail, only exhausting herself further. She fell hopelessly to her knees, gazing longingly at the panorama of nothingness. She was insignificant. She was holding on to something - anything - but that didn't exist. Nothing was here to pull her forward or push her backwards.
Was she going to be stuck here, for eternity? Is Kachina out there, safe, eating her grain-fruit snacks? Are her parents earning well, selling an abundance of antique items and valuables?
Is Kinich sitting under the tree, waiting, disappointed?
She shrieked - despite it being impossible - raising her hands to her ears, fighting back tears that would never come. What was she thinking?
Were her thoughts even hers?
In this torturous realm of nothingness she’d try to find herself, but is there anything left to find?
Clawing at memories that slipped underneath her very fingertips, losing a meaning of reality. She’d reach, outstretch her arms as far as they’d let her, but they drifted further and farther away from her grasp.
“Mualani!”
I’m not here.
Her own thoughts felt foreign, different.
Don’t come for me.
Who are these people?
“Mualani, it’s yer Auntie Atea,” another sharp, ragged breath rose, her breathing a whistle and words crooked, “S’okay, kid. You're fightin’ hard, ain’t you?”
Mualani paused - as if she could in this abyss - and listened, though it felt like something constrained her from doing so, the voice ringing in and out of hearing.
“Real bright girl, ain’tcha? ” Hoarse, choking sounds that were supposed to be a laugh flickered in and out of her ears. “Shoulda been there, with you,” the woman sniffed, “coulda don
much more than mopin’ here. Don’t even know if you can hear me.”
In the absence of the woman’s voice did it go quiet once more, an eerie, strangling quiet.
Then, a crack.
Another one.
More came, splintering, deafening Mualani’s ears with the sound of glass clashing against ground, even if there wasn’t any.
The stillness of the void was instantly shattered. Silence of the abyss seemed to ripple and yell, breaking down into pieces. Smells of flesh and ruin flooded her nostrils and she gagged, resulting in the tightening of the constraints on her body, overwhelming her senses and temporarily paralyzing her. Mualani’s hands were caught onto something solid - and when she’d looked down, she saw a decaying skull full of indescribable insects.
Her eyes widened in disgust, most of all, terror, but she couldn’t move her hand. In fact, she couldn’t move both hands, insects leisurely crawling up her arms, poking her raw skin with their greasy, slimy heads.
“Umoja,”
The voice was insistent, calling through drowned words and dirge. She flicked her head back up, breathing heavily, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. However, she couldn’t stop the inevitable panic welling up inside her chest, consuming her and filling her lungs with mold. It felt like she had been flipped inside out; her skin and flesh exposed, her heart rolling out on her chest to land on the ground with a ‘splat’.
“Umoja,”
The voice was tangible, looping its words around Mualani’s throat, choking the air out of her body. Her fingers were strained and curled into a permanent position. The insects were now covering her entire body - her skin hidden behind the rustling bodies of the creatures. They latched their mouths to suck the blood out of her skin, showing no mercy, hacking away at her limp body. Her eyes burned as she forced them open; if she blinked, she’d lose her progress. She’d lose herself.
“Mualani,”
It was now booming, the sound reverberating off what were supposed to be walls and ground, but the voice ended in a breathless whisper, an end to an opera of cries. Mualani listened intently as the echoes of the screeching chimed like multiple bells going off at once, fading, as the insects abruptly stopped sucking the blood out of her neck, as the skull dissipated underneath her human touch.
At that point, she could feel the invisible manacles clinging on her body melting away. The treacherous pain ebbed and the ceiling opened up, unleashing blinding rays of light. Mualani shut her eyes and clung onto herself, shaken and weary.
“Mualani?”
“Traveler! You did it, you did it! Paimon knew you could!”
“MUALANI!”
Something had punched her. Right in the stomach. Arms enclosed around her neck and she flinched - was the Abyss teasing her? Was this real? She was going to die, wasn’t she?
No. She wasn’t. She isn’t.
“Mualani you scared the hell outta me, you.” Someone had said, but she couldn’t wrap her head around the voice, she didn’t recognize the words and how they slung together.
The grip on her eventually released, and her bleary vision had shown some clarity - enough to pick out where she was. Towering over her were two people and one pixie-looking object. She attempted to raise her body, to feel her fingers, but it was all numb. Her head pounded like it had set off thousands of fireworks; the roaring of glass against ground stirring inside her guts. She escaped, but had she really?
The humans and Pixie were talking, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t make out a word from their mouths. Subsequently, one of them bent by her side, speaking in a calm, low voice with some sort of accent she’d never heard before. But then again, could she trust herself in this state in terms of knowing or not?
“Make sure you get plenty of rest. Don’t tire yourself, either.”
In her mind, she replied and thanked her for whatever she’d done, but her body remained still and unmoving. She hadn’t felt like herself at all.
“Yeah, Paimon thinks you should drink lots, too. Whatever happened must have made you tired.” Pixie echoed, her voice sharp and bird-like. Though high-pitched, it was melodic, and her words were arranged in a way she thought was magical. Who was this creature? She so badly wanted to talk, to say something, even if it was just a grunt.
Was she really just a spectator in her own body?
More words spilled out of their lips but she couldn’t keep up. It was like her brain had disconnected from her body, all in the hands of an unknown beholder, encasing it in a thickening fog. Some switch in her head had turned off and the world went silent.
The slick, smooth sweat of her skin trickled down her cheek, the blazing sun beating down on her, smothering her flesh in tiny needles of heat.
Her eyes felt heavy; one moment she was awake, the next she was in that horrific darkness again, consuming her once more.
*************************************************************************************************************
Fire.
There is fire. Everywhere.
It surrounds her and spreads as if it were a plague, which at that point, it was. Her bare skin gushes with cuts and bleeds. The fire drowns her in smoke and clasps its fiery hands over her throat and roars. Her eyes sting, and for a moment she cannot hear. Her whole body is senseless, unresponsive; her want to control is fleeting as the flames make their way up her back, they caress her body and infatuate her with its toxicity.
It’s a dream. Burning smells of eucalyptus and rosemary quivered and faded just as quickly as it had come, but even so, she felt comfort amidst the lifeless monster strumming her life strings, tugging at her melodies. It’s all a dream. Her eyes are pools of water and she chokes from the blazing fury constricting her airflow.
However, even through the untamed heat of a monster did she see the solemn, blue sky, and the brightest star.
At that very moment, the fire laps at her body and consumes her whole, blood curdling screams rupturing her eardrums. Her horror twists with agony as she registers that they’re her own. She tries to reach a hand out, to catch the streams and waters of the sky hanging high above her. She tries to swim, to not drown, to not succumb to this fate even if it were inevitable.
If only this were a dream.
—-------
Kinich’s grip on his marker is firm as he marks another tally.
Eighteen.
It had been eighteen days since the day everything had changed. It had been eighteen days since the horrifying, bloody battles. It had been eighteen days since he’d last seen Mualani.
The war had damaged his tribe and his people.
It never gets better.
He twists the cap off the top and shuts it tight, concealing the marker before throwing it somewhere. His guard never falters, but for a moment, he wants to let himself loose, to be caught in his own thoughts no matter how terrifying they were.
Most of all, though, he wanted to see Mualani.
Days felt hollow without her infectious smile and cheeky nature. He still continued his commissions, but they weren't done without a single thought or more about the electricity that washed over him like ocean waves when their fingers touched, about the odd pitter-and-patter his heart does whenever he sees her.
Nonetheless, he had to move on. It was apparent that she’d lost interest, or that he’d done something wrong. If it were the latter, however, he’d run across Teyvat and back if that meant their problem could be solved. Just something, anything, to let him know that she was still there, that maybe just maybe she would show up and drive him mad in the best way possible.
There was still a chance.
“The Almighty Dragonlord K’uhul Ajaw demands a proper dish right now. FETCH ME A STEW, KINICH!”
First, he had to deal with this unbearable creature.
—-------
The evening breeze caught his hair like it were in a riptide, whipping it around from side to side. He was gliding by the mountains and valleys, his claymore in his hands, his heart caught in his head. The war had damaged Natlan, but it had not damaged his people; he could still feel the flame of a thousand spirits igniting and engulfing the atmosphere.
With each battle, with each shed of blood dropped, did the fire burn brighter and did the people thrive. It has yet to reach its breaking point, but Kinich knew it was nearing it.
After what felt like hours of searching, Kinich had reached an open field - one not too far from the Tree - dotted with dandelions underneath the dimming gold of the sun. The swaying of flowers sang out to him like a melody, and he kneeled down on his knee to brush his hands against the weeds. It was like stringing a harp; each blade of grass had something to say. To sing. It didn’t have to be a lovely, enchanting tune, it just had to be raw. It just had to be filled with true emotion.
He lifted his head to study the scenery and exhaled slowly, opening his mouth to speak yet never letting a sound out. Maybe he didn’t have to sing to be heard. Maybe he just had to be there, in body; maybe even in spirit.
Heartbeats passed and he shifted himself on his back, and after what felt like centuries, he’d been able to breathe. Grass tickled his neck and insects chittered, sharing their own tune. Kinich felt the sun’s embrace coat his skin and make him shine brighter than he’d ever felt. It was just him, alone, in a clearing the Wayob knows where, but he felt a million songs and cries warping his heart into a mess.
It was as if they were singing to him.
One voice, however, stood out the most to Kinich, practically drowning out the other melodies. It was a weak, soft hum that slid underneath his skin and made him shiver. He could feel each note tighten a growing knot in his chest - the pain in their voice was evident, like someone had wrung them dry of all enthusiasm and life.
Kinich lifted himself, resting his hands beside his thighs as he listened intently, his ears straining to pick up on any hints. Was this an injured saurian? Someone from his tribe? The music died down except for that treacherous humming, growing distant and faint, a muffled sound.
As if on cue, Ajaw jumped right at Kinich’s face, proceeding to yell and throw a tantrum as if he were a toddler.
“You told me 10 minutes, DUNCE.”
“Correct.”
“It’s been MORE THAN 10 minutes.”
“Also correct.”
Although he didn’t mean to, Kinich knew he had a smirk creeping onto his face, and he had no intention of suppressing it anytime soon.
“I have THINGS TO DO.”
“Tell me. What do you want?”
“To feast on your soul, of course!”
Kinich scoffed softly as Ajaw burst into laughter, the sound unpleasant yet humorous. Although they hadn’t gotten along very well, Kinich managed to get used to him and their light-hearted banter. Ajaw wasn’t all horrible, either, sometimes he’d help. Sometimes.
“Kinich, do you see that thing behind you?”
“Are you messing with me?” He knew that Ajaw wouldn’t say something without having some sort of value to it, so he turned around anyway. Ajaw grumbled in response, dismissing himself without so much as a sound.
There, in the nestle of bushes and shadow of trees was the recognisable peppy, white-haired girl. Mualani. She was in a low crouch, the attempt futile as she stuck out like a sore thumb in the forest. Had she been watching the entire time? Strange, he surely would’ve known. He’d always have his guard up. Atleast, Kinich a month ago would’ve.
“Mualani?” He called over the noises of nature, his eyebrows furrowed. She just decides to show up out of nowhere, trying to sneak on him? How could she still be so playful as if she hadn’t ignored him for weeks?
Rustling.
With a huff she rose from the shrubs, that familiar, tanned surfer, though her expression was entirely different than what he was used to. Even from his stance could he see heavy stains of purple rest under her eyes. There was nothing playful here at all, and Kinich didn’t know if that was worse.
“Kinich.” Mualani croaked, and her hand seemed to move up to her mouth, her eyebrows creasing and eyes glossy. They’d been washed with the light of the sky, casting a great spotlight on her. “Can we talk?”
He hadn’t seen her ever since that one evening underneath the Tree. Ever since she had promised to meet him the next day, underneath that same tree. Only she had never shown up. Now, she was here, asking if they could talk, as if a few simple words could fix everything. He balled his fingers into a fist, the bumps of his knuckles turning white. Control yourself, Kinich.
“Listen, I know I messed up, I totally blew it, I was just so caught with a task that I had forgotten to see you. No, I hadn’t forgotten, it was in the back of my head,” her words were sloppy, pouring out of her mouth like an uncontrollable volcano. “And..” Mualani trailed off, her gaze fixated on a dandelion.
“So that was your excuse?”
“What?”
Kinich shook his head, sucking in the stale air forming like mold around them. His body had tensed and his thoughts deluged with a bubbling anger.
“18 days.”
“Kinich, what do you mean?”
“18 days since the war started. 18 days without knowing anything about you.”
He raised his voice slightly, his words stained with indignancy. Kinich knew this was his mistake. Having friends was never a good idea, it was never going to benefit him. What made him change his mind?
“Do you have to know everything?” Mualani cried, her eyes widened as if shocked by her own statement. Even Kinich was surprised, though with the way Mualani had been acting, it was useless to question it.
Moments of an unfamiliar silence settled upon them, suffocating Kinich with each breath he took. She stood there, her eyes searching for him, expecting an answer.
He wanted to give her one. He wanted to tell her that she was right, and that he had to leave, but something in his heart told him to stay.
Something powerful, something so palpable he couldn’t ignore it. That same feeling he had when he looked at Mualani in the forest. Under the Tree.
“Mualani.”
He attempted two steps as if he were walking across a tightrope, legs steady and eyes locked on hers. Only one wrong step and it would be all over. Her gaze faltered and she shifted slightly, fidgeting with the bracelet she’d always worn. He braced himself for any unexpected reaction; he couldn’t tell if the girl standing in front of him was Mualani anymore. She seemed so fragile, like at any moment she’d shatter into a million pieces if just a simple breeze swept the air.
“Look at me.”
She hadn’t moved, but after a lingering pause, she met his gaze.
Closer. Closer.
Kinich was standing in front of the bush of greenery now, studying the creases on Mualani’s face, traces of sleepless nights evident in the way her skin sagged and hung under her eyes.
“Tell me what happened.”
“What?” Mualani said, though her voice was thick. Her hands were caught behind her back. Her foot tapped restlessly. She hadn’t denied it. Something must’ve happened. Something so horrible it took Mualani away and buried her deep inside her own self, something so horrible it had drained the life from her body.
“Tell me, Mualani.” Kinich almost demanded it, it was unlike anything he’d known of himself. What came over him? But then he studied Mualani’s face just for a beat longer and knew.
“It’s nothing terrible, really, don’t worry about it.” Mualani assured, though her movement said otherwise. She hadn’t stood still once.
Though she was insistent, Kinich couldn’t put away the aching feeling that gnawed at his heart. It was like fire had been set off inside his body and a strong sense of defensiveness ignited the flames. He was the corpse and his consciousness were the maggots.
“If it’s not so terrible, why do you shut me out? why are you shaking so badly?”
“It’s cold.” She had avoided the question.
“We live in Natlan, Mualani.” He avoided repeating himself.
His gaze softened as her eyes seemed to shine brighter in a pool of tears. She turned away once more, her hands still behind her back. Kinich knew how vulnerable she was right now. Mualani is tough. Mualani is enthusiastic.
But even the brightest flowers dim underneath the shadow of a raincloud.
“Mualani?”
She was crying. In front of him.
Only now did Kinich realize he didn’t know how to comfort someone.
He tried to distract her, talk about something other than their current subject, but somehow that made her sob even harder. His heart ached for her as if it could feel her emotions, hear her thoughts. Even though that would be impossible, as Kinich should know.
Minutes stretched into eternity and Mualani was still crying, though the sound was muffled as she had her hand over her mouth.
Kinich panicked.
He leaned forward to catch her cold, frail fingers in his, enclosing them together, tight. He squeezed her hand hoping it would offer some sort of help, anything. The touch was electric, sending a shiver up his spine, more intense than before. Her hands fit perfectly in his, as if they were carved to be that way.
She hadn’t let go, but she hadn’t responded, either. Her eyes were still caught on some blade of grass. His heart had beat faster. His thoughts ran quicker.
“You don’t have to tell me, Mualani.”
“I missed you.” She blurted immediately.
For a brief moment, she didn't move. Then, she hesitantly raised her head and reached for his other hand, her tear-stained cheeks flushed and red. He felt her pulse in his palm. Her breathing. Everything around them had become a blur as her eyes were on his. The only thing stopping Kinich from pressing closer was the thorn bush in between them.
“I was in a void.”
“Void?”
“I was alone, Kinich. It felt like I was there for years.”
“I can’t say it’s okay because it isn’t,” Kinich murmured, taking in the quiet hums of birds and light of stars, “but I will be here for you. From the start to the end.”
“Same for you, Kinichi.”
It was just them two, together, in a world where together seemed impossible.
Kinich a month ago was more guarded. Kinich a month ago was more logical.
But, Kinich now secretly believed that the impossible could be achieved after he’d met Mualani. After he’d sat under the Tree for hours, realising how dangerous yet powerful love could be, a plethora of emotions and feelings he overlooked before. After he laid on the bark of a tree underneath a canopy of leaves, Kachina and Mualani’s laughter echoing throughout the forest.
Was he being idealistic?
Yes. But who says you can’t be?