her heaven is only half alive i fell asleep in his, but he could not breathe in mine Here stood perhaps the largest thing Jendayi had ever seen. Its massive spire unfurled into the sky and almost touched the clouds, and perhaps Jendayi would have sought to climb it, if its sides weren’t so steep and icy. There were no stairs, no footholds she could use even after long moments of searching. What wanderlust compelled the fragile woman to want to seek the sky was something, perhaps, tied back to her roots—those of which she tried to forget, but could not deny their blissful surrender every now and then. Yet, she was fettered to the ground, and her neck had long soon begun to ache tracing her golden gaze upon its pristine peaks. It looked not built by nature, but by the Gods—some unspoken entity that spoke true of the spirits she once believed in, and so often rekindled her abandoned beliefs. Jendayi could not deny herself—she still knew her spirits existed, and she found herself often praying to them even when she did not mean to, but far too short had she left behind her home in favor of her insatiable curiosities. Subjected was she to her own self-inflicted punishment, and with it came the heavy weight that she was still fickle enough to sway her beliefs yet still. Eventually, she pried her eyes from the massive stone monument and instead looked at the sea beyond. The sky was clear and sunny, and while a small flurry was brought from the mountainpeaks in the distance, it was not enough to spurn a cold chill. She was able to see far past the icy ocean toward its horizon, where the deep blue met the pale sky. The sun was high above, creating a light with thin and short shadows, blisteringly bright given all the darkness shrouding the north. The winter had been unkind, but now at its northermost point, Jendayi had the relief of seeing a blissful emptiness. It was breathtaking. Behind her stood the massive glaciers and their rocky counterparts, and nestled in their valleys the long-frozen lake. Its illumination from the sun seemed only to reflect off the pure-white mountains, and created an almost blinding spotlight against the south-facing side of the spire. Each time she looked upon it, she had to squint in order to see. This, she realized, is what she had abandoned her old life for. It was worth it. Almost.

code & art by lynx

Walking through this land was almost too painful, if only because she wasn’t akin to being alone. Even back home she had always been surrounded by friends and family but being by one’s self-was miserable. Day after day she continued her trek onwards and while there was little to no scent of the one she followed, the girl continued forwards. 

It was when she had traveled through a land filled with snow and ice that she began to worry. The scent of her friend was here and there, distant but distinct, though she couldn’t imagine why anyone would be drawn to such beautiful danger. Then again, it held its awe with confidence and in that she could find the stilled beauty. So Manna followed adamantly into the swallowed stillness of the chilly air if only by the faint comfort that she might be reunited with Jendayi once more.

A fine chill rushed passed her and Manna halted, letting the hard wind push against her face with eyes closed and ears pulled backward. Only when it died down did she begin forwards and see the monument that seemed to rocket towards the sky. Mint green eyes focused upon the spire ahead, her legs spiritually gravitated towards the highest point she could see as her mind began to wrap around what it must be like to be so high. 

Only then did her attention shift upon a tiny movement, muzzle shot back down as she looked right at a white figure in the distance and her mouth opened in surprise and glee. “Ada?” a breathless whisper on the wind as she could not believe what she was seeing. 

her heaven is only half alive i fell asleep in his, but he could not breathe in mine Adah’len, ma’ da’len, Ada. Ada. At first, the words did not register. Jendayi had brushed it off as a trick of the mind, a distant and blissful reverie of what once was hers. But soon, the ethereal voice had become far more real, and accompanied with it was a scent—familiar, home. Her dreams had never allowed her to smell the forests and wildberries, especially not so far north. Perhaps she was dying—but perhaps… Jendayi turned, and the sudden silhouette soon took shape. The young maiden’s heart almost sunk in her chest, and the feathers of her heart tickled against her breast as it beat rapidly, far too fast for her to catch her breath. “Manna,” she breathed, and what once was familiar sounded foreign and strange off a tongue so trained on an alien language Yet, everything seemed to come back all at once. “Thu? Ahnsul? H-how did you find me?” she cried, her native tones slipping past the ones she had adopted to shut it all away. Jendayi had found peace in her self-made exile. She had not anticipated anyone coming after her. It was, perhaps, the worst and best thing that had ever happened. It gave her some selfish inclination that she was missed, but likewise it had severed the careful walls she had built to separate herself from them. Jendayi quickly, and harshly, learned that she could not build her walls out of paper and silk. Next time, she would have to use stone and iron. Next time, she would have to ignore Manna altogether. But her heart was ever so weak.

code & art by lynx