2404 Tull 12, Reshpe

Blue was the color Kennen had grown used to seeing the moment he woke up until the moment he slept. It was the same color accompanying him as he tore down the hall leading to where his lessons usually were. At some point, he had grown tired of it.

"Do you think the world above us has more colors than this?" Kennen thought aloud, knowing his friend, Merko, would hear it as they walked alongside each other.

Merko snorted, his pale brown hair bouncing against his forehead. "What's gotten into you this morning, Ken?" he asked, referring to him by his shortened name. It was considered taboo, with Kennen being the only heir to both the Chieftain and the Grand Marshal seats, at least until he found someone to bond to. Still, he had known the boy since they were in loins. He had to give Merko the pass.

Kennen sighed, craning his neck up to the pastel blue ceiling. The glowing sheets of ice shone above them, lighting their way and the whole capital as their lives went. There has never been a time these lights malfunctioned and maintenance has always been diligent. Worse, the lights made him realize he never could tell whether it was early morning or late in the afternoon. All the rest of them knew was when the lights turned off simultaneously, it was time to sleep. The next morning, they would be awakened with the ceiling coming alive above them.

It's like these walls kept telling them what to do and when to do it.

People dressed in loose, pale robes and wide, knee-length trousers flitted in and out of Kennen's periphery, carrying on with their duties to the capital. Some hefted huge rolls of textile on their shoulders. Others dragged woven baskets filled with produce the foragers have collected from the world above. Kennen clenched his jaw to avoid asking them for lindenmeres or any kind of pastry they were able to bring back. Perhaps, he'd hunt down Arren and see what he found. That was, if the forager even made it through the eastern stocks at this point in time.

The geometric patterns carved from blocks of ice holding up the ceiling whizzed by them. After all, the fifty-second floor was known for them. Kennen's room was down on the hundredth floor but his lectures were somewhere in the forties. Why the Chief insisted on that arrangement was beyond him too. This made Kennen grateful for Merko's company even though they'd part ways at around the fiftieth.

"I don't know," Kennen ran a hand over his face, smoothing strands of his black hair off his forehead. "It just sucks that we're the ones who have to hole up in this place. Don't you think it's unfair that we're the ones under the ground while the rest of them are frolicking under the real sun?"

Out of all the things Kennen envied the fairies living aboveground, it was seeing the sky and its wonders sitting at the top of his list. Not that he was keeping one. Probably just in his head but that's beside the point.

How did the breeze feel against one's skin as it blew? Was it true that the sky aboveground changes color in response to which moons were out? How many moons were even there? How many stars, constellations, and astrological phenomena were present in the Umazuran sky?

Like the rest of the ice sprites hiding inside the Ice Capital, Kennen didn't know. He really wanted to, though.

Merko scratched his chin. Despite the cold, their skin remained supple and smooth. Kennen had seen emissaries from Penleth and Alkara, cities of the only fairy race they could trust—the brownies—and they didn't look good after spending mere hours in the Ice Capital. Was it too cold? It felt normal to Kennen. It might be cold but it wasn't something that would grip his limbs and freeze them to the point of stiffening. Weird.

"It's dangerous out there," Merko glanced at the ceiling, knowing up was the only way to go if they wanted to get out of this place. "You know how we ended up in the Ice Capital. It's never going to go well with us if we step out."

Kennen bobbed his head, sidestepping an ice sprite carrying a basket of leafy greens on her head. A forager, by the looks of her tighter-fitting tunic and trousers meant to disguise themselves among the brownies. Foragers were the only ones allowed to go back and forth the world above and the Ice Capital. From what he heard, they require extensive training including combat lessons so they could protect themselves from something.

Were the other fairy races—people who should have been like them having stemmed from the same type of thoughtdust—really that hideous? Whatever happened to them along the way? What made them so different compared to his people, the ice sprites?

Kennen bit down on his lip, not knowing what to say to his friend after Merko brought up their shared history. It wasn't a hidden tale, how they established the Ice Capital as their home, fortress, and most important secret to keep as a whole race.

During the Human-Fairy War, and before the sprites split into four territories, the Ice Sprites fell victim to a blood sport instigated by the sprites themselves. There were recorded accounts present in the archives taken from their ancestors who were able to experience the whole thing. Every year, during the Day of Remembrance, these testimonials were read aloud in the auditorium in the hundred and fiftieth floor. It's done so no ice sprite, whether they were born later down the line, could forget and make the mistake of letting Umazure know their kind still existed.

A hand tapped against his shoulders and he looked up to meet Merko's kindly blue eyes. "Don't think too much about it. We don't have a choice but to accept it at this point," he said. "Besides, the Ice Capital offers so many fun things the world above wouldn't ever."

"Oh? Like what?" Kennen arched an eyebrow.

"What part of the island had access to perfectly blended hot chocolate?" Merko said.

Kennen rolled his shoulders. "I don't know. Never been to it."

Merko chuckled and gave Kennen one last pat. "This is my stop," he said, jerking his thumb in a vague direction behind him. Kennen eyed the familiar stairs and the spot in the wall where he knew Merko's division worked during the first few hours of the day. "Got to help Danda weave the spun threads. Can't have anyone walking around naked, if you get what I mean."

The image of the ice sprites running out of clothes and therefore having to walk around in the cold without any covering sent amusement in Kennen's gut. The chances of that happening would be close to nil but it's still funny.

"Yeah," he nodded towards the wall as Merko waved his hand over it, his magic no doubt flaring to the surface. They both watched the sheet of ice slide back to reveal a spacious stock room inside. "Go help your grandmother. I'll be up as always. See you later?"

Merko hummed. "Lunch?"

"Lunch," Kennen echoed, stepping backwards closer to the stairs that'd take him up to the forty-ninth floor.

His friend chuckled, ducking inside the room. The wall shone and groaned as the door slid back into place, ultimately locking whoever was inside. Kennen tucked his hands inside his wide sleeves by habit and tackled the stairs, one step at a time. The hallways blurred and zipped by faster without Merko's presence. It was a whole lot quieter too.

When he got into his lecture hall for the day, his tutor was already waiting inside. Lydin Beldove stood behind a lectern carved out of ice, a sheet of ice imposing behind her. The tapping of a chisel stopped when Kennen shut the wall behind him.

"Kennen," Lydin said. She looked even more elegant than yesterday with her belted robes, braided orange hair, and the earrings glinting on one ear. Kennen paid attention to her jewelry more than he did during the actual lesson. Today, she insisted on wearing tassels, hoops, and cuffs. As expected from a member of the chiefdom's council. "You're early today."

He settled in on the only seat present in the room. It was something he carved himself with his magic out of necessity. "I woke up earlier than normal," he said. "Greeting everyone and thanking them for keeping our stronghold safe one more day while I walk at least sixty floors would take a lot of time so I figured I would start early."

"Does Merko mind?" Lydin asked. She was one of the rare people who knew or cared about Kennen's friend.

Kennen shook his head. That seemed to be the only answer Lydin was looking for because she turned to the sheet of ice behind her and raised her chisel. "Where did we leave off yesterday?" She braced a hand on her hips.

"The establishment of the Ice Capital," he rested his chin on his palms. He knew all of this from all the Days of Remembrance he had to attend as the Chieftain's heir. He didn't need Lydin pounding it further into his skull. Then again, it might be easier for him since he didn't need to invest too much energy and understanding into his lectures for a while.

Perhaps, he'd even take up Master Hornori in his offer to teach him about the ores and minerals they were able to mine on their way to expand the Ice Capital further down. Should be interesting.

Lydin blinked as the memory flashed in her face. "Ah, yes," she rubbed her fingers. "As per our module, after the establishment of the Ice Capital, you'd get to learn about its features and parts. It's like learning about your own territory. Wouldn't it be fun?"

Kennen resisted rolling his eyes. He walked each floor every day. It wouldn't be fun if he could learn it just by being here. Who even decides what goes into these modules? He'd have a word with them. Less heirs after him would suffer the same fate as he did.

"To start, let's talk about the main compartments of the Ice Capital," Lydin started and off they went for the next half hour.

Just when Kennen was almost certain he had slipped into a stupor for a few minutes, Lydin said, "Of course, that's where the Hall of Symbols is located. This is the place where almost all our material culture as a race is stored."

Kennen straightened in his seat. "Where was it located again?"

Lydin turned back to him, her eyebrows arched. "Aren't you listening?" she tapped the head of her chisel against the rough sketch she carved into the sheet of ice. It looked as if the Ice Capital was chopped in the middle. "It's right here. On the two hundredth floor."

His mouth crept into a small circle. "Should I drop by after all my lectures are done?"

"That's funny," Lydin crossed her arms and leaned against the lectern. It hadn't even registered to Kennen that she had stepped down from it to scrawl on the ice sheet behind her. "Access has to be approved by either the Chieftain or the Grand Marshal. It's too dangerous to just let anyone in. There are secrets not meant to be stumbled upon."

Kennen tilted his head to one side. "Do you know its secrets?"

Lydin clicked her tongue. She seemed to have taken his statement as an insult. "My job is to help the Chieftain make decisions regarding the betterment of our people," she said. "It's not my job to nose around and find out secrets our leaders fought so hard to protect."

He grinned. "Or you just never tried," he crossed his arms, leaning back against the cold board of his seat. He could use some cushions on this thing. "Perhaps I could ask my parents for permission and beat you there."

"That's a challenge, then," Lydin matched his stance, her grin a reflection of his. That's what he liked with her. She was just up to almost every antics Kennen came up with. Their challenges were always interesting. "Get your parents' approval, visit the Hall of Symbols, and perhaps, I'd let you have your own lecture one day."

Kennen rubbed his hands together. "Deal," he said. It'd be easy from here on out, at least.