Chapter 3: So… The Boy

After that ominous incident with the Queen, nobody dared to make a mistake around her anymore. She had become frivolous and more demanding than usual. She shattered all the mirrors in the palace as well as in her Tunnel. New regulation: No Crystallized resident had the right to bear a mirror of their own. How beautiful!

Queen Iselda was always in her chambers. Sleeping most of the time, wandering the halls, and overthinking every detail of the reflection. She was starting to lose her mind; she could feel it, but didn't have the remorse to do something about it. She declined most of her meals and daily care routines. Sometimes she was so paranoid that the servants found her under her bed, hugging her legs in a fetal position. The palace felt like the dead little sprout of White-Morning Glory in its ruby vase. Unmoving, dead, and dreary. Observing the Queen at her worst.

One day, unlike the gloomy ones, Queen Iselda jolted awake from her sleep. With her eyes still drowsy, she squinted to observe her same old chamber. No change. She slowly pushed her blanket aside and touched the soft fabric of her rug. While she was intensely studying each pattern on the rug, an idea struck her. She was going for a walk! A certain path led to a certain farm. It would be good for whatever she was in right now. Yes, that would totally be the solution.

She pushed herself up from the bed and started to get ready. This time though, she didn’t put on her best gown or dress or jewelry. Just a pair of brown boots that came up to her knees, a decent white flared dress, a very simple pink rose quartz which every resident probably had, and lastly her royal cloak that shone in bright brown colors. Then she headed toward the gate.

Queen Iselda chose only one guardian for this mission. She didn't want many soldiers to witness what would probably happen next. So just one was probably a great choice. She had already embarrassed herself enough these days in front of her servants and soldiers.

On her way to that charming farming girl, ahem, the charming farm of course, she was greeted with sneers from her folks. Shocked, Queen Iselda increased her pace and stayed close to her guard. People stared at her with malicious eyes, as if saying she was not welcome in their lands. What had happened though? Yes, okay, she had been in her own mind for a couple of days, but she hadn't done anything outrageous. Banning the mirrors had caused this perhaps? But why? The Queen did not comprehend the sudden hate toward her. She didn't think she had done anything wrong. Did she? If she had done something wrong, would anybody in the palace dare to tell her? Was this how regnancy worked? She was way too young to understand it, she guessed. She would talk about this with the farmer girl. She wouldn’t have a reason to lie to her Queen, right? Yes, yes, that was okay. Everything would be under control. The Queen was still a good one, and would be the best.

After all this self-monologue, Iselda realized she was right in front of her destination. There were still White-Morning Glories on the right side of the farm. And she was still very much amazed by how these sun-loving flowers grew in her Tunnels. She couldn't wrap her mind around it.

Deliberately, she walked down the path to the farmhouse door. Iselda knocked once, shyly. Her heart had already started to pound. Pretty harshly. Yet there was no response. Taken aback, Iselda was almost on the verge of crying. What a foolish thing to think that some random farmer girl would relieve her worries and solve all the queendom’s problems. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door again. This time louder. No response again. A little tinge of annoyance started to build in her body, but she ignored it. Instead of raging away from the farm, she sat on the porch with wooden parquet flooring, a little pout on her lips, one hand propping her head. While waiting, ill thoughts came into her mind. What if the girl was sick? Or something worse had happened? Maybe she was in dire need of someone? Maybe? Maybe… Everyone, and Queen Iselda herself, knew that it was just an excuse for her to barge into the farmer’s house. But how could you say no to the Queen herself? Iselda justified her wrongdoings in her mind and tried the doorknob. The door made a click sound that announced it was indeed not locked. Most residents in her Tunnel didn’t need to lock their front doors due to the assurance and trust they had for one another. So, it wasn’t a surprise to the Queen. She pushed the door open slightly and gazed at the surroundings through the little gap. It was pretty dark. There was one candle on the far-left side on a stool, illuminating the whole house. And next to the light, there was a figure. A frame of someone? Crouching? Maybe hiding? But it couldn’t be the farmer girl. The body probably belonged to a child. Iselda slowly approached the light, the shadows flickering across her eyes. She navigated the house with her hands on each side of her body, her feet searching the floor before stepping. When she closed the distance, she called out in a very soft voice: “Hello, are you a… ah… child?”

Nobody said Queen Iselda was good with kids. She had been an only child and a spoiled one. She tried again: “You know the girl with freckles and auburn hair. The one growing the flowers. You know her?” They were in the kitchen as far as Iselda could see. She supported her body on the aisle and crouched so she was at the same height as the kid.

The scared little one didn't say anything. Just looked at her with tired eyes. Their hands were so small, and they were holding onto something. Iselda didn't quite decipher what it was. She thought about how to ease the kid’s worries so she could understand what happened to the farmer girl. She started: “So… ah… what is your name, little one? Mine is Iselda.”

The kid still looked terrified and unable to speak.

Iselda started blabbing her mind to the kid. She talked about her worries, her life, the queendom, the farmer girl, her mother, and so on. Now sitting on the floor cross-legged, Iselda felt like the kid didn't understand her language. And with closer inspection, she could see the kid had white strands of hair. No one in these lands, except the Naturalist people, had white hair. Either this kid had dyed their hair or they were one of them. Not that Iselda had anything against the Naturalist people. They were soldiers of the realm: brave, strong, and passionate. She had learned at school that Naturalist people spoke the same language, but she could be wrong. Or the boy could be mute… or just scared.

Iselda thought to herself that maybe if she made some magic show for the kid, they would come out of this frozen state and talk to her. “Did you ever see any precious gemstones? Hmm? I can make you some.”

She clasped her hands and looked at the kid mischievously. “Now focus on my hands. I will make a white topaz like your hair.” She locked her eyes with the kid.

They started to feel curious and stepped closer to Iselda.

She continued, “You know, topaz is not a rare kind of gem, but it is semiprecious.” She twisted her hands so she could focus on making the gem. Her expression hardened while putting her power core to use. She was rusty. However, the kid was now close enough that Iselda could distinguish their features. They were a boy. His mid-long white hair barely touched his tiny shoulders. His expression was rather inquisitive.

As the boy was about to say something, an explosion-like abrupt sound came from behind and deeply shook both of them. The kid instinctively drew near to Iselda, hugging her and trying to find comfort, but shaking terribly. Iselda turned around, unsure, and looked around the house. There was no one or anything in particular that could have made that sound. Then, looking down at her lap, she saw the boy embracing her with one arm in a death grip while holding something in the other. A smile tugged at her lips while she caressed the child’s back.

The guard, who had long been forgotten outside the house, came hurriedly, looking for his Queen. He shouted into the half-dark house: “My Queen, Your Highness, are you okay?”

Iselda answered, annoyed, “Yes, yes, I am okay, guard. What happened back there?”

“I don’t know, Your Highness. It came so suddenly and left at the same pace. I couldn’t even see what it was. It wasn’t something to touch or see. No one seemed to hear it, my lady.”

“What do you mean?” Iselda asked, puzzled. “Was no one in the village alerted? Was it just us who heard the sound?”

“Yes, I assume so. No villagers looked like they heard it. They continued their routines as always.”

Eerie. Just the three of them had heard the sound, and it was something Queen Iselda had never heard or experienced. It was like something high up in the sky, which they couldn't see, had crashed, and that explosion had been thrown into these lands. It was as if the sky was angry. As if the clouds wanted to scream.

“Th…er” the boy whispered against Iselda’s abdomen, his voice muffled.

Iselda looked down at the boy and asked, “What is it, sweetheart?”

The boy slowly looked up at Iselda, meeting her eyes. He whispered again:

“Thunders.”

Queen Iselda, in her twenty-six years of life, her experience in these lands, and her education, had never heard something like that. She wasn’t quite sure it was even in her language, let alone its meaning. She scrunched her face and repeated the word in an asking manner: “Th… thunder?”

The boy hugged her loosely and repeated: “Thunder!”