Chapter 7: Crystals of the Land

Laima woke to the rhythmic sound of water running in the bathroom. She had slept in the same bed with Elliott yesterday and she felt a sense of relief. She had committed so many mistakes in her newly founded hobby called parenting that she didn't want to continue her streak of failures. On the bed, she was sprawled on her back; her hair was tied in a messy bun and she hadn't found the time to seek out pajamas to wear. Thus, she remained in her sandy attire, having only discarded her shoes. The blanket was dangling from the bed and a small part of it was on Laima’s abdomen. She blinked a few times and rubbed her face with both hands. Then, she turned her face to the right and looked at the scenery by the windows. In her narrow periphery, she could just see the walls. Big, dark, and crystallized. She already yearned for the sky and clouds, but with a lengthy sigh, she straightened up.

The sound of water still echoed from the washroom on the right side of the bed. She raised one eyebrow slightly, rolled her eyes, and compelled herself to rise. She dragged her feet to the door where the noise was so loud for so early in the morning. She banged her fist and shouted, “Elli, please, I’m begging you to finish your bath. I need sleep, baby. Please.” She thumped her head against the door. “Please,” she murmured. The sound suddenly stopped, surprisingly. Elliott wouldn't normally indulge in such a long bath; perhaps he'd become spoiled living in such a huge palace. The Queen was a bad influence…

Laima rushed to the bed and threw herself down, face first. She needed more rest, more food, and more water. But there was not enough time. Just as she was about to fall asleep, lost in thought, the door to their room burst open. Laima swiftly lifted her head and looked at the girl waiting by the door, arms crossed, one finger constantly tapping. Her face looked bothered, one eyebrow raised. Her sand-touched curls dropped onto her shoulders. Queen Iselda was dressed in a beautifully tailored pink gown, draped high on her waist and belted with diamonds underneath the bust. The neckline was a classic V-shape that showed her perfect brown skin that could almost be used as a mirror. Before Laima’s eyes stayed lower, Queen Iselda cleared her throat. “You done staring?”

Laima felt herself blushing at the comment. She immediately rose from the bed and stood like the soldier she is. “Sorry, My Lady, it wasn't my intention.” She just stared at the floor, not daring to look at the Queen herself. Probably never again. “How may I be of service to you?”

The Queen looked fed up with Laima’s attitude altogether, and she had only just arrived at the palace. She replied leisurely, “Laima, darling, stop talking to me like” she wriggled her fingers “like I am a higher being. I just happen to be the ruler.” She mocked, but after seeing no reaction from Laima, she continued, “Okay, I think that’s a big thing for you. I am the Queen, blah blah. Whatever. But for today,” she faked a cough into her fist as if she were presenting something, “we are going to have a discussion about certain topics, as you may understand. I need to know every little detail of you two.” She pointed her finger first at Laima, then the door of the bathroom. “And, my servants will bring you some new clothes. So, try to look neat and more presentable. We will have breakfast, then we can talk about everything until the end of my days.” Her bright smile didn't reach her eyes.

Laima was… strangely okay with this plan. It looked pretty good. She was promised food, clean clothes, and a helping hand. What more could she ask for? Even though she was perceived as a mature and intelligent person outside, inside she knew that she would have screwed everything up if she were alone in this fight.

Queen Iselda was still waiting for a response patiently, her lips forming a thin line. “That is,” Laima forced herself to take a peek at the Queen’s face, “a splendid plan, Your Highness,” she said shyly.

“Great, then. I’ll see you both in the garden in an hour.” She turned and left the chambers in a graceful manner.

At the same moment the Queen left the chambers, the bathroom door squeaked. Laima turned to look at Elliott, freshly cleaned and dressed.

“Are you scared of her?” Laima asked boldly. “Why were you hiding?” She inclined her head toward the door.

“No, no. I wasn't scared. I just…” Elliott trailed off, staring at the dresser where his secrets were buried deep below the clothes.

Laima followed his gaze. “Are you hiding something?”

Elliott quickly locked eyes with her and pleaded, "Don't tell her, please!”

“Tell her what? I don't even know what you are hiding, Els.”

Elliott looked guilty and was playing with his fingers, something he does when anxious. Laima kneeled. “No need to fidget; just show me your secret and I will keep it as my own. My lips are sealed.”

Reluctantly, Elliott moved toward the dresser. With every step he took, he turned and looked at Laima, his eyes remorseful. When he reached the dresser, he took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He rummaged through several neatly folded clothes to reach the wrapped flower and the enchanted mirror. He pulled both items from the drawer and carried them to Laima. She extended her hand to examine the mirror first. It was an ordinary mirror… its silver frame reflecting the light in the chamber. Some vine-like green ornaments grew from the handle, covering the silver frame. The mirror itself, though, showed how unkept Laima was. Her hair was sticking out everywhere; the bun was gone, and so was her hairpin. Her eyes looked like they were marinated in salt. Grains of sand were still in many places on her face and hair. She was disgusted by herself and ashamed. She had greeted the Queen with these clothes and this look. Such a disgrace…

Her trail of thought was cut off by Elliott’s tearful voice. “Is it that bad? I am sorry. I’ll break it or, or give it to Iselda. I know she doesn't like mirrors. Laima?” He tilted his head slightly to the side. Laima pursed her lips and approached Elliott with a soft smile. “No Els, that is not something bad. I don't know why Queen Iselda wants you to break the mirror or why she hates mirrors, but that is the last thing that could be harmful,” she assured him.

“No!” Elliott shouted, shaking his head violently. “Iselda was enchanted once with mirrors. I can't do that to her, but I just… can't break this one either. It looks beautiful, doesn't it? And, and why should I have to live with the consequences of someone else's actions? I want a mirror.” He tilted his head confidently.

“Okay, okay. Calm down, champion. I get it. We will keep this as a secret under the clothes. No one needs to know. And of course, you can have all the mirrors you want. She is not that complicated of a Queen.” Laima gave the mirror back to the boy and looked at his other hand. There was a little White Morning Glory. Elliott didn't want to pass the flower to Laima; his expression looked sorrowful. “I kind of feel what it feels. It wants to connect with soil…”

“The flower?” Laima asked patiently.

“Yeah, I don't know if you can feel every fiber of the flowers, but from the things I’ve learned… you can't. I am different. I can hear nature. I can touch it. I can give this flower life too. I don't want to be apart from it,” he sighed. He looked at Laima with teary eyes. “I am the only one, right?” His lips were trembling from holding back his tears.

“I don't know, Els. I wish I could,” she fumbled with her words, “but I will try my best to not make you feel like you are alone.” Laima's eyes met Elliott's, and she gave him a warm, loving look. She lifted up his chin slightly. “We can plant some flowers here too. You can have as many as you want. And don't worry, Iselda wouldn't say a thing to you because you have one of her flowers.” She gave a kiss on his cheek.

“But let me shower, please. I feel like, and most probably smell like, garbage. Huh, Els?” she joked to relieve the tension. Elliott was so deep in his own head that he just nodded and sat by the windows, caressing the flower petals carefully.

After a long shower and an even longer process of getting dressed, Laima and Elliott had finally arrived in the garden for breakfast. Queen Iselda was reading a thick, hard-covered book looking like an encyclopedia. She sat on one of the white handmade chairs, probably made from a crystal Laima didn't know. The garden in question was not what Laima was expecting. She was accustomed to ever-expanding green bushes covered in snow and trees being frozen solid. Queen Iselda's garden was dimly lit, resembling a beautiful garden of light created by illuminating crystals of different colors. Instead of flowers, crystals of the same color were arranged side-by-side like a field. In the part of the tunnel that covered the sky, plants that could survive without sunlight had spun their webs everywhere like spiders. It was far too bright for a dark tunnel.

Laima held Elliott's hand tightly and began walking toward Queen Iselda. As they walked, she could see Elliott's surprised expression. He hadn't yet gotten used to the uniqueness of this Tunnel, and Laima was just getting used to it too. She knew very little about the Crystallized Tunnel, but she liked this crystal garden, not just Elliott. Of course, there was no other choice in such a challenging tunnel. Crystals didn't form in sunlight; they needed dark environments. Sunlight weakened not only the crystals but also the powers of all crystal power wielders. But now, as they walked toward Queen Iselda, the path didn't seem devoid of sunlight at all.

As if Queen Iselda sensed their approach, she flipped her book shut and stood, opening both arms in a welcoming manner. “Welcome! You both look lovely!” She sounded genuine and relaxed. “Come sit, please. I had my favorite breakfast items prepared, just for you.” She sat on her chair again; her gown was the same as this morning.

Laima first pulled out the chair for Elliott and made sure he was comfortable, then sat down herself. She had styled her messy brown waves into a half-bun; her freckles toned with a little makeup and her hazel eyes accentuated by soft pastel blues. She put on a gown carrying the quiet remembrance of a forgotten Tunnel, where ivory lace clung like mist to the collar and sleeves. Beneath it, a deep sapphire skirt cascaded in layered ruffles, heavy with gold embroidery that glimmers. She looked stunning and she knew it.

Queen Iselda started speaking without waiting any longer. “So, Laima, where are you from?”

“Cyren Tunnel, Your Highness,” she said while biting into her omelet.

“Cyren… hmmm… They are quite a Tunnel, huh? I thought the folk there were loyal to their royal family, weren't they?”

“We are, My Lady.”

“Such a short answer. Pfft.” She rolled her eyes, clear that Laima’s unwillingness was hurting her pride. “You were cute when we first met; could you just transform into that girl? Because like this,” she pinched the bridge of her nose, “you are insufferable.”

“We have a power dynamic here, My Lady. You possess a very valuable trump card, a weapon that could destroy me. You are the Queen of the Tunnel I inhabit. You are powerful. And you can leave me with nothing whenever you want. Forgive me if I'm being a little cautious towards you," Laima said, unable to hide the irritation in her voice. For the Queen, everything was so easy. She always mocked them. She didn't even understand the difference in their status.

Iselda softened her voice. “I apologize. It is also my first time doing something like this. I am just twenty-six and a newly crowned Queen. I make mistakes. You surely know that I don't socialize with people here. So, yeah, I'm sorry if I really seemed like someone who would cause you trouble," she said, taking a sip of her tea. "I really want to build a future for Elliott. I want to unravel the mysteries surrounding him and help him." She gave a sweet smile to Elliott. Meanwhile, Elliott was eating his avocado tortillas too quickly and trying to drink water to avoid choking. He wasn't listening to what was happening at the table. "Oh, by the way, you look lovely and healthy, Laima. I'm really glad to see that. And drop the honorifics please; call me by my name. I won't have your head." Her ear blushed a rosy pink.

“Thank you.” Laima really felt grateful after hearing the Queen talking in a mature manner. “I—I found Els near my house last year. It was chilly outside; his little body could have frozen at any time. I—I just… wanted to help him.” Laima stole a glance at Iselda. She was still sipping her tea nonchalantly, but her ears and eyes were on Laima fully. “I took care of him for a week. It didn't take too much effort for me to figure out that he didn't belong to Cyren at all. I knew about the Naturalist people and their cannibalistic ends. Our Tunnel hated their kind and the royal family would not want any of them to reside in their walls. I didn't have a choice. I want him to live. I…” She fell silent for a while, holding back her tears. She brushed Elliott’s hair slowly. “I want him to tell me what happened in that tunnel. How is he still alive?”

“I want to know that too. So, we are partners in crime.” Iselda wiggled her brows, eyes crinkled; she smiled ear to ear. She reached out her hand to shake Laima’s to show it was a deal. Laima looked at Iselda's extended hand and glanced towards Elliott, stuffing food into his mouth. She chuckled. “Yes, we shall, Iselda.”

She shook Iselda’s hand, warm and soft, nothing like her own. They stared at each other for a while, then Iselda asked, “So, what’s the plan, partner?”