Neuzhas, Krasnaluna, Sneg. The capital city of what used to be a large, snowy island used purely for research on the changing climate. From its humble origins, it turned into a country known for its calm atmosphere and cleanliness. The snow there was white, clean, and it sparkled in the sunshine.
Of course, to a grand city like Neuzhas, there were always downsides. One of which was that to maintain this clean and tranquil atmosphere upstairs, they put all the dirty trash underground. In 2075, engineering had progressed so far that the people in the cold country of Sneg could safely live in a ‘city under a city’. Though it had a proper name, it was most commonly referred to as the underground. And the people there, as moles.
The calm, cleanliness and cold wasn’t all Sneg was known for, however. Around the world, it was recognised as the place that the Religion of Solenste originated from. The place where their God, Solis, first showed Their face again after thousands upon thousands of years. This eventually morphed into Sneg enforcing mandatory religious practices and holidays upon their people, apart from tourists (though they are heavily encouraged to participate, and advised to not speak about their own personal religious beliefs). Many people disagree with the religion that has been enforced for over 50 years, but speaking out about their dislike of it would surely have them silenced in one way or another.
“Silence is for the weak, Isaak.” Alexei complained in a humorous tone of voice. Alexei was one of the few that accidentally was vocal about his dislike. At least, according to his (unfortunately restricting) government record of being a non-believer.
“Yeah, but do you think if you stayed silent, it wouldn’t have ended up like this?” Isaak said, staring up at the painting of a night sky that was blue-tacked Alexei’s apartment ceiling. Isaak was lying on the hardwood floor that extended everywhere but the bathroom. His tone was a little more somber, like he was contemplating it heavily.
“Maybe. But y’know, Isaak, if I had stayed silent, I probably never would’ve met you. And that would suck.” Alexei rolled over in his bed to look at Isaak. His chin-length auburn hair covered the one eye he could look at Isaak with, so it was one of the rare times that Alexei moved his hair back. Alexei changed the topic. “Like the painting?”
Isaak looked at Alexei, then over the painting a little more. It had an illusion of detail, though the moon had the most intricacies. In a city all about the sun, the moon being the focus of the painting was poetic, in a way. The stars in the painting were only dim. In Neuzhas, they believed after you died, your soul would become some sort of celestial object in the sky. Within a world full of stars, Alexei always joked that Isaak would be a planet after he met his end. Isaak would probably say the same to Alexei, but death was more of a sensitive topic when it went that way.
“Yeah. It’s nice.” Isaak replied to Alexei.
“Happy you like it.” Alexei smiled. “Probably better than seeing a bare white ceiling when you sleep there.”
“I always like your paintings.” Isaak looked up at the watermark. It was just Alexei’s initials, A.B.A.. Usually Alexei didn’t sign his paintings—let alone display them—so he must’ve been particularly proud of this one.
Alexei only got the resources to paint every-so-often, due to the expense of them. He did work at an Arts Centre (though Alexei himself didn’t actually work in the creative bit he wanted to work in—he intended to be an Art Curator, but in Neuzhas, there aren’t many jobs like that), where he got supplies to paint every so often if there were leftovers from workshops they held, or school excursions. The trick was to get to the leftover canvas and paint first, before the other employees did. Depending on his haul, he could really make a lot of things. He preferred to paint scenery, sometimes painting portraits and the sort, though.
Isaak, however, worked freelance. Graphic design, to be specific. He had shown Alexei his portfolio a few times over the years, and Alexei thought he was good at it. For a Neuzhas-based freelancer, Isaak had some pretty high wages, and some well-paid clients, at that. He had made a few posters for Alexei & Isaak’s favourite bakery before—a few times, actually.
“Hey, Alexei? It’s getting kinda late.” Isaak yawned, taking his eyes off of the painting and standing himself up. He tied up his chestnut-colored hair. It was shoulder length, so he did usually have it in a ponytail, but lying on his back with it up made him uncomfortable. After a pause, he continued. “I’m gonna get the mattress out.”
“Fair enough.” Alexei said, getting off of his bed to close the curtains. The light on the poles outside was near-blinding, though all the light in the Neuzhas Underground was artificial. He wondered if one day they would finally replace the lights with ones that dim automatically when it was meant to be night. Growing up underground he had grown used to it, but Isaak was more used to sleeping with only the light of the natural moon. “Don’t have any nightmares tonight, mo chuisle.”
