In this mist-maw, it became gradually difficult to distinguish night from day. Ultimately, it did not matter; the next time the sun were to rise on the horizon, it would arrive, in its aureal adorn, with her twenty-sixth birthday in tow. Twenty-six. In the eonian-eye of a fox, it begged the question: what, precisely, did twenty-six mean? Was it just young or was it awfully young? Their fate was never to age. Nova envied it. Not their agelessness, but the certainty. Neither fox, nor human… What did it mean for her?
Location: the bitter-frost of the northernmost point on Earth, the North Pole
Facing the window, dusk-lit eyes flickered to the nearby row of silhouettes hidden, properly, in the nocturnal embrace; someone, something was outside, hiding, enveloped in the night.
Nari. Nova was—sworn, albeit the word would not have willingly left her lips—to find her, to indulge the childlike play of hide and seek, but she didn’t. Limbs stock-still, a reflection in the dormer-like glass glanced back at her. Familiar. Familial. Lashes bat; close and tear open, panicked, momentarily. A morning visit to the market… hence the glassy-eyed face. Adjusting, the appearance, the apparition of another self, shifts into an identifiable shape: herself. She sighs. Her foxhood was ever-described in halves. Fox. Human. The part of her that was human had to make peace with it: the fabricated faces, the forgetfulness, and the certain uncertainty.
Twenty-six. Twenty-six. Twenty-six. Twenty-six. Twenty-six. Twenty-six. Twenty-six. Twenty-six. Twenty-six.
Buried beneath piles of papers, pens, and a myriad of post-it notes, a low-vibrational, albeit equally violent sound emerged from her desk. The device—Nova knew no better word for it—lit up with a message. The holographic display signalled a sense of urgency, stating, ‘come over, bring Nari — now, Nayoon’. Hyerin. The twenty-first century was characteristically modern; Hyerin’s definition of what it meant to be modern, however, surpassed even the modern meaning of modernity. Hyerin was brilliant. Hyerin was bright, but brutal. The messages did not cease; it was never an expectation that they would. Nova looked away from the window, and towards the source of the sound.
Nari was found half-way down-the-stairs. “ Nari, ” a murmur, spoken matter-of-factly. “ I am. ” A bunch of black clothes were thrown at her cousin. “ And so are you — Hyerin wants to see us, get dressed.”
