Klaya's Rainbow
On a very early morning in the 491st year of Hoborg's rule, a white klay girl appeared on the Neverhood. Nobody witnessed her birth. She just came to be in the middle of nowhere.
The girl roamed the Hood, looking for someone who could help her. She was confused. She hadn't received a welcome speech and, as a result of this negligence, she didn't know where or who she was.
Fortunately it wasn't long until she stumbled upon a group of four sleeping Hoodians. She shook one of them by the shoulder, telling him to wake up.
The Hoodian yawned and stretched his body luxuriously before looking at her. Then he squinted. It took him a few minutes to say: “I'm still dreaming, aren't I?”
“You aren't,” the klay girl assured him.
“No, I must be.” The boy rubbed his eyes and gaped at her. “I'm seeing an angel!”
To be on the safe side, the girl looked over her shoulder. No one there. Well, she thought, it would certainly be nice to be an angel. If that's what destiny had in for her, she'd take it.
“Hey guys,” the astonished guy regained his ability to speak and addressed his friends, “do you see her too?”
“Yup,” one of them replied. “She matches the description of an angel perfectly. All white and insanely pretty...”
The white klay girl was pleased to hear this. She knew who she was now – a pretty angel. Now, it would be nice to know where she was.
“What is this place?” she asked, gesturing around.
“Oh, you're on the Neverhood. The neighbourhood that will last forever,” her new Hoodian acquaintance answered. “We should introduce ourselves too, shouldn't we? I'm Kamzik, this is Katzca, the little guy is Kolya and finally this is Kalitch, who for some strange reason prefers to be called Ali. If you ask me, that's stupid 'cause the name isn't even Neverhoodian, but we just go with it 'cause he's our friend. By the way, have I told you that you're really pretty?”
“Hey I said it first,” a brown guy cut in.
“Both of you calm down,” another one stepped in. Which one was it? The girl couldn't remember. “She isn't the first woman you've ever seen, so give her some space, would you?”
“But Katcza,” the brown guy whined, “she's the only Neverhoodian girl who isn't married or downright creepy! Plus she's an angel, so why couldn't I say she's pretty?”
The boy called Katcza rolled his eyes and didn't bother to answer. Instead he studied the angel closely and asked: “What's your name?”
“I don't... um...”
“...know,” the brown guy finished for her. “That's okay. None of us knew our own name when we were born. You'll just have to come up with one. Or, I know, let me name you! I'll pick you the best name ever, just give me a second...”
“Ali,” a short boy squeaked. “You're making her uncomfortable.”
“Well excuse me for getting worked up,” Ali muttered, pulling back. “I suppose someone else will have to explain to her how Neverhoodian names work. Since you're all so full of it that you'll rub my nickname in my face on every occasion you've got.”
“Oh please, Ali doesn't even sound good-”
“Kamzik,” Katcza sighed.
“Oh sure, sure. I'll explain it. See, my little angel, the saying goes like this:
A name beginning with K is Neverhoodian.
A name beginning with Kl is nice.
A name beginning with Kla is awesome.
And a name beginning with Klay is an honour to have.
That's how we Neverhoodians name ourselves,” he concluded, staring at the angel expectantly.
The girl hesitated. She felt slightly overwhelmed – everyone was speaking at once, while she was still trying to memorise their names. Not to say she didn't enjoy the attention. She tried to gain some time by asking: “Do I have to choose a name beginning with a K? Since I'm an angel...”
The boys looked at each other uncertainly.
“Well...” Katcza began.
“You don't have to,” Kamzik admitted. “After all, there are a few beings on the Neverhood whose names don't begin with a K. But really, we would prefer it that way.”
“Yeah, 'cause names that start with a K are just sweet, don't you agree?” Ali beamed at her.
“Um. Sure.” Rubbing her lower lip, the white angel came to a conclusion. “In that case I'd like to be called Klaya.”
Ali and Kamzik looked at each other in awe before whistling.
“Brash,” Katcza murmured.
All right, that was confusing. Hadn't one of them just said that names beginning with Klay were the best? The little boy cleared his throat and spoke:
“You see... this name, Klaya, is the best name that there can ever be. When we Neverhoodians named ourselves, no one was brave enough to take it as his. But um... since you're an angel, I guess that you're allowed to have such a great name. Right guys?”
Ali was the first one to swallow his pride and envy, answering: “Right. Sorry miss, you've caught us all off-guard. Maybe we should have explained the naming thing better,” he said, glaring at Kamzik.
“What?” Kamzik shrugged his shoulders defensively. “Like Kolya said, she's an angel, she deserves such a name.”
“Fine,” Ali huffed. “But if you're gonna let her get away with calling herself Klaya, I don't ever want to hear you complaining about having to call me Ali.”
“What?” Kamzik began laughing. “What does that have to do with anything?”
Little Kolya tugged on Katcza's hand. “Aren't you going to stop them from fighting?”
Katcza didn't react at first. Then he slowly turned his head to Kolya and to the arguing pair. “No,” he said finally. “I don't feel like babysitting them. We should go see Hoborg.”
“Who's that?” Klaya asked immediately.
“He's someone really important,” Kolya gave her a smile over his shoulder as they began walking, presumably to see this Hoborg. Kamzik and Ali were left behind, too engrossed in their argument to notice their friends' departure. “Hoborg is the ruler of the Neverhood and our dad,” Kolya continued. “He's got a crown and everything.”
“Don't you already know Hoborg?” Katcza asked suddenly.
Klaya shook her head.
“Uh-huh,” Katcza said slowly, not close to convinced. Klaya frowned at him a little. Why didn't he adore her like the rest of them? Kolya's face lit up every time he looked at her and both Ali and Kamzik had called her very pretty. All Katcza did was brood and then ask embarrassing questions.
The Hoodian confirmed Klaya's suspicions when he asked: “If you haven't met Hoborg, then who created you?”
“I don't know,” Klaya replied, gaining quite some attitude. Katcza irked her.
Kolya turned around to see Klaya and Katcza glowering at each other. “Guys... knock it off,” he said. “What's the problem?”
“Angels don't appear out of nowhere,” Katcza stated, crossing his arms on his chest and glaring at the white girl. “They're always sent out by someone to complete some kind of task. What's your task here then, if you're an angel?”
“Mind your own business,” Klaya riposted. “I didn't know where or who I was when I was born! Do you seriously think that I'd know perfectly what the goal of my life is?”
Either it was the sudden outburst or the profound reasoning; in any case it got Katcza to shut up. Kolya glanced at them fearfully but said nothing.
Klaya used the following minutes of silence to think. The truth was that, despite her unkind words, she reckoned that she indeed had some kind of task to complete. A feeling that she had something important to do was growing stronger with every passing minute, but she didn't know what and that irritated her even more than Katcza's nosy questions.
At some point of their journey Kolya began pointing out the landmarks they were passing. His voice trembled nervously but he seemed happy to be the first one to show these things to Klaya. The angel settled for ignoring him instead of telling him to be quiet and let her think.
At last they stood on a bridge before a big castle.
“Hoborg is in there,” Kolya informed the angel.
“Good,” she nodded. “I've got a few questions for him.” She had figured that the ruler of this place might have been able to tell her a thing or two – like if there was any need for an angel like her or if he'd had any part in her summoning.
Katcza said nothing but his frown darkened.
After entering the castle and passing through a few rooms, Kolya stopped in front of a fancy looking door. He took his brother's hand. “Katcza. You can't go in with a face like that. You look like you're thinking baaaaad things and you know Hoborg doesn't like that. Come on, smile.”
Katcza sighed and ran a hand over his face. “Alright,” he murmured and attempted to stop frowning. Kolya was apparently happy with it because he grinned and opened the door, but Klaya considered his new expression just as ominous as the old one.
“Dad?” Kolya called out tentatively once they were all in – what turned out to be - a huge throne room. “Hoborg!”
“It's still too early, he must be asleep,” Katcza observed. “I'll go upstairs and fetch him. In the meantime, Kolya, why don't you tell Klaya some of our history?”
“Sure,” Kolya gave his brother a thumbs-up.
Klaya was shortly briefed on such characters as Hoborg, Klogg and Klaymen before a pair of slender white legs began descending down a spiral staircase in the middle of the hall. The legs were followed by a block-shaped torso and a cube head, on which a shiny gold crown rested. Impatiently Klaya waited until Hoborg walked down the flight of stairs and came to stand before her.
For a moment, they just stared at each other. Klaya became a tiny bit nervous when she saw that there was no expression to read on Hoborg's face. The king was considerably taller than her (at least including the crown) and well-built. Imposing – and kind of scary.
“Wow,” the guy exclaimed and Klaya blinked with surprise. Wow? He sees a new being on his world and he says wow? “Katcza has told me that you were attractive, but seeing you with my own eyes is really something else. It's no wonder they mistook you for an angel.”
The white Hoodian gaped at the king. Out of all the thing she wanted to answer, she settled for one: “M... mistook?”
“Yeah. Don't tell me you actually believed them? Please, they are just children, they can hardly tell... oh. You did, didn't you.”
Well at least his voice was easy to read. But the things he said were not easy to hear. Not one bit! Klaya was pulling her face into an offended expression when she noticed that Katcza was smiling. And it was this malicious smile that told her everything. That jerk was jealous of her. She was too grand for his taste, so he sought every opportunity to humiliate her. Like this little failure to tell Hoborg that she was convinced that she was an angel. Katcza would watch her fall from the height and rejoice. What. An. Ass.
She kept that to herself though. No way was she going to let Katzca know that his dirty little trick had worked on her. Instead she asked Hoborg: “How can you tell I'm no angel?”
“I just can, child,” Hoborg scratched his cheek. “If there was anything unusual about you, I would know. To me you look like a normal Neverhoodian. But the question is...” he stepped forward and cupped her chin, “where did you come from?”
Klaya let him inspect her face for a while and then wriggled free. “I don't know. I was hoping you would be helpful about that.”
Hoborg shrugged. “Look at it from my perspective, child. I've just awoken to see a new Neverhoodian on my land and I'm just as eager for answers as you must be. Do you really not know who created you?”
Klaya answered with a question: “Can't you have, like, created me while sleep-walking?”
To his credit, Hoborg actually stopped to ponder that possibility. “It has never happened before,” he said, “but let me check anyway.” He took his crown off and shook it for a while. A single lump of klay fell out into his open palm. “See? This is my last life seed. I'm saving it for later until I decide who my last son will be. You weren't created from one of my seeds, child.”
“Then aren't there other people beside you...?”
Hoborg shook his head. His voice was level when he replied, but Klaya thought she heard a sad note in it. “None of the residents of the Neverhood but me have the ability to create or to have children.”
“Can't I have fallen down from somewhere?”
“You're made out of best klay. There is no best klay in the universe but on the Neverhood and the Mountain of Best Klay. And the Tickberger's belly I suppose.”
“Then it's settled,” Katcza cut in with a sarcastic smirk. “She comes from the Tickberger's belly.”
“Gross,” Klaya commented.
“And rude,” Hoborg added. “Be a little more polite to your new sister, Katcza.”
“What?” Katcza's mouth fell open. “Did I hear well? She's gonna be our new sister?”
“Until we can figure out where she came from, we can just as well suppose that she is my daughter,” Hoborg affirmed.
“But... she isn't even... her colours are off and everything!” Katcza protested. “I'm telling you dad: she is not a Neverhoodian!”
“Katcza,” Kolya, who had only watched so far, took Katcza's hand. “Don't get angry over it. Klaya's nice to have around. It's not like she's evil or anything.”
(Klaya settled for watching everyone telling Katcza off with a silent but nonetheless intense satisfaction.)
“But she isn't an angel either,” Katcza muttered.
“If that's the problem,” Hoborg interposed readily, “I can assure you that Klaya is a regular Neverhoodian and that I will say this to everyone as the first thing in the morning. In fact, could you two go and gather everyone in the throne room? I'd like to introduce your new sister.”
“Sure,” Kolya replied before Katcza could say anything and he dragged his brother out of the throne room.
“What an ass,” Klaya vented on Katcza's back. She glanced at Hoborg who pretended he hadn't heard her.
“So, your name is Klaya,” Hoborg began.
The not-an-angel-anymore uttered a non-committal humph and wondered if Hoborg was going to scold her for picking such a name.
“Let's sit down and discuss a few things.”
The king and the girl climbed up the spiral staircase and entered one of the many doors of the circular room above.
“This is one of my guest rooms,” Hoborg said offering Klaya a chair. “We'll have a bit more privacy here than in the throne room.” He plopped down on another chair and he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “The one thing that bothers me the most... is who created you.”
Klaya shrugged.
“What's the first thing you remember?”
The memory was still fresh, so the girl was quick to answer: “Standing in the middle of a plane, surrounded by green cones.”
“The North Plane,” Hoborg muttered. “Go on.”
“I tried to find somebody who could tell me where I was. And... who I was.”
“Uh-huh?”
“I wandered around and finally I found these four guys... who told me I was an angel.”
“I see.”
“They made me choose a name and they brought me here.”
“Yes.”
“End of story!”
Hoborg sighed at her tone. “You seem to be rather hard-headed,” he told his daughter.
“You don't say,” she smiled at him.
“Are you still mad about not being an angel?”
Klaya didn't answer that.
“I'm sorry,” Hoborg offered.
“...Yeah.” Klaya frowned at her colourful fingers tangling in her lap. “But you know,“ she added on a moment's impulse, “it wasn't that hard to believe. Angels should have a purpose, right? And I do feel like I have something important to do.”
Hoborg sat back in his chair and regarded the girl. “Like what?”
“I don't know. Maybe it has something to do with the time and place where I was born...?” Klaya shrugged. “Do you have any idea what I should do?”
“I think you should meet your new brothers and get to know this place,” Hoborg replied without hesitation. Klaya clicked her tongue.
“That's not what I meant.”
“I think it would help.”
The white Neverhoodian considered this option. Hoborg might have been right. Maybe she should simply wait until the problem solved itself. They did say: You find what you're looking for only after you stop looking.
But Klaya was too impatient to wait. “No way. You're the king of this place, aren't you? One of Quater's sons to boot, if Kolya wasn't kidding me. You ought to know a lot more than how to tell an angel apart from a Neverhoodian.”
“You're also cheeky,” Hoborg observed.
“Don't change the topic,” Klaya retorted.
Hoborg laughed. “Cheeky indeed. I should introduce you to Nike when he gets back. He'd appreciate your attitude.” He quickly sobered under Klaya's stare though. “As you wish. Let me meditate for a while, please.”
With that, Hoborg grew silent. Klaya stared at him for a while, fascinated by how inanimate he looked once he stopped talking. He was hardly breathing too. He looked like a statue. A handsome statue.
The white girl shook her head. She had better things to do than marvel at the local royalty's physique. When she got tired of examining the room from her chair, she got up and explored everything up close. A good ten minutes passed and Hoborg was still frozen. Judging that he had fallen asleep again, Klaya turned her attention to herself. She had never had the chance to study her body.
She walked over to a mirror and she regarded her form. Pretty indeed. At least that was a constant, even if she wasn't an angel anymore.
Turning her body in front of the mirror, her eyes were caught by a circular button on her chest. She tried turning it and, when nothing happened, she pressed it.
“Whoa!” She jumped up when, with a soft click, a door opened in her belly. She looked over her shoulder at Hoborg but the king didn't budge, so she rolled her eyes and gingerly touched the door with her fingertips. Even angled out of place, it still felt like a part of her body. Moving the door back and forth resulted into a similar feeling to bending her elbow.
“Weird,” she mumbled, gazing inside her opened belly in the mirror. The opening was dark and she pondered if her entire torso was hollow like this. Carefully she placed a hand inside. Touching her inner walls made her shudder but she quickly got used to the feeling and set off to find out if the space was empty.
To her surprise it wasn't. Lying on the bottom were several small lumps of klay. She took one of them out, inspecting it. She'd already seen an object like this – on Hoborg's palm. He had called it a life seed.
After a quick search, Klaya discovered there were five life seeds in total in her belly. Holding them in her hand she wondered: If Hoborg only had one last life seed, did this make her rich? Was it something that made her special again? With hopes that it was, she closed the door in her belly and turned to Hoborg.
“Hey Hoborg, you awake? Look what I found,” she said, holding the life seeds out in front of Hoborg's head.
Hoborg jerked violently, startling her. She recoiled, pressing the seeds to her chest.
“Wha- Where did you get those?” Hoborg spat incredulously.
“I found them in my belly,” Klaya told him, pointing to her torso.
Hoborg sprang up and took a step toward the white Hoodian. When he saw her retreating another step, he changed his mind and began pacing across the room.
“Then you must be...! But no, why would Quater do that? He said that they would protect those in need... Is the Neverhood in danger then? It can't be. But... the seeds...” In the middle of his heated monologue, he spun around and faced Klaya. “Were there exactly five life seeds?” he asked her.
“Yeah.” She cocked her head. “Why get so excited over it?”
Hoborg shook his head. “You don't know what you're talking about, child. You're the White Mother!”
Honestly Klaya had preferred being called an angel. “What's that?”
Hoborg continued pacing around the room, descending into incoherent mumbling. Then he stopped. He took a deep breath in and then out. After a few seconds he said:
“I'm sorry. I was startled. I'll explain everything to you, so please take a seat.”
Klaya did so, reading deep worry in the king's voice. She guessed that she wasn't all good news and she felt mildly ashamed for taking such pride in being special.
Hoborg, on the other hand, remained on his feet. He stood by the window, gazing out over the Neverhood.
“The White Mother,” he started, “is a being who appears only once in a generation. She's an albino who eventually gives birth to five boys. Her sons have supernatural powers which they use to protect their home world. The Mother's task is to bring them up until they can take care of themselves. The five boys,” Hoborg inclined his head toward the five seeds in Klaya's hand, “are called the Guardians and they always appear on a world that is in need of protection. Now...” Hoborg gulped and his hands tightened on the window sill. “Does that mean my world is in danger?”
Klaya had no answer to that. She opened her hand to gaze at her seeds. Would these be her children? Five boys that she'd bring up and have them protect this world? The more she thought about it, the more satisfied she was with the prospect. So this was what she was supposed to do. This was her task.
“I have to contact Quater as soon as possible,” Hoborg proclaimed in the background.
“Heyy,” Klaya drawled, never tearing her eyes from the life seeds. “How do I give birth to these thingies?”
“Huh?” Hoborg said absent-mindedly. “You plant them. Throw them on the ground with the intention to create.”
“Uh-huh,” the white Hoodian said slowly. “But you said that no one on the Neverhood had the power to create.”
“You might be different,” Hoborg waved her question away, his mind focused on something else entirely. He abandoned the window and sat down on the bed, staring off into space.
Thinking about the single life seed in Hoborg's crown, Klaya suddenly felt for the poor king. Such a pretty world and nobody could give birth to anything. The king himself was holding onto his last life seed, his last chance to feel that he was creating a child. The last chance to make a difference.
“You know...” Klaya spoke, “I could plant them right away.”
“Don't be rash Klaya,” Hoborg admonished her.
“No, I mean it. Hoborg, listen to me.” Moving to stand before the sitting king, Klaya placed her hands on his shoulders. “You're worried because this place has hardly any self-defence, aren't you? You don't think you're prepared for what's coming.”
Hoborg's shoulders tensed before he nodded once.
“Then shouldn't I plant the boys right away? If they're supposed to protect their home world with supernatural powers, then they're the best shot you've got, aren't they?”
Hoborg said nothing. Klaya waited impatiently.
“Oy. Don't freeze up on me,” she told him finally. “People might be waiting for you downstairs by now.”
Hoborg twitched.
“Don't tell me you forgot,” Klaya rolled her eyes.
Hoborg wiped his face with one palm. “The decision I'm making is a lot harder than you think. It isn't easy doing it on my own.” He paused. “I wish Klaymen was here.”
As if on cue there was a knock on the door. Hoborg got up and cracked it open.
“Come in, guys.” He turned to the white Neverhoodian. “Klaya, this is Klaymen and Willie Trombone. They're my closest friends and the saviours of the Neverhood. Klaymen, Willie, this is Klaya. She was born a few hours ago and I'd like to take her in as my new daughter.”
“Wow, it's a girl,” Willie exclaimed, grabbing Klaya's hand to shake it. “Me Willie! Welcome to the Neverhood!”
Klaya returned the handshake only curtly and let go of Willie's hand. The hoophead continued shaking hers however, until Klaymen tapped his shoulder.
“Of course, Klaymen can shake hands as well,” Willie grinned at his friend and passed Klaya's hand on to him.
“Welcome,” Klaymen said, pressing her hand firmly – but thankfully only once.
“Thanks,” Klaya replied. “Nice to meet you both. Kolya has already told me about you.”
“Likewise,” Klaymen said. Before Klaya could ask what else Kolya had rattled on her, Klaymen turned to Hoborg.
“Are we in danger?” he asked the king.
“Frankly, Klaymen? I don't know.” Hoborg scratched his head and glanced at Klaya. She could only assume that it was an apologetic look, considering what followed. “How much have you heard?”
“Enough,” Klaymen replied. Great. So they had been eavesdropping. And Klaymen didn't even blush while he was owning up to that.
“Then I don't need to explain anything. Klaya's offer is tempting but there's one thing that bothers me.”
Klaymen nodded. “Caline.”
Wondering if all Klaymen ever said were one word sentences, Klaya asked: “What's Caline?”
“You should ask who,” Willie corrected her. “Caline is sister. She has children. Little babies, they're so cute.”
“But you said that no one on the Neverhood...” Klaya began to protest.
“Caline does not live on the Neverhood anymore,” Hoborg interrupted her. “And the problem lies elsewhere. When Caline had children, she also found the life seeds in her body compartments. The problem is that they were tiny babies when they were born.”
“Willie said that,” the hoophead crossed his arms over his chest.
“Yes, you have Willie. I apologise.” Hoborg turned to Klaya. “Do you understand my hesitation now? There's a chance that when you plant your sons, they will be born as infants. And in that case, they will be no good defending the Neverhood. In fact, they'll be a...”
“...A nuisance,” Klaya finished for him. She sighed. “I get it.”
“And in this situation, do you still want to plant them?” Hoborg asked.
The thought to reconsider crossed Klaya's mind. But it was very brief. “Yes!”
“Klaymen, Willie, what do you think?” Hoborg asked his friends.
“I like babies,” the hoophead clapped his hands. “If babies, they are much more fun. If big, they help. It's good on good, so Willie's good.”
“What are the chances?” Klaymen asked. Klaya noted that he could say more than one word sentences after all.
Hoborg scratched his cheek. “Considering everything... I'd say about 3 to 1 that they will be babies.”
“I'll take that chance,” Klaymen replied, flashing Klaya a smile. The girl smiled back, thanking her charm for gaining the boys' support.
“Well, if you both agree to it...” Hoborg sighed and straightened up. “So be it. Klaya will plant the Guardians as soon as possible. “
“Yes,” the klay girl struck the air with her fist. Hoborg glared at her but she ignored him. How many beings got to fulfil their life's goal in the first three hours of their life? Not many. And, she had to admit, she was drunk on the feeling of being special again. In fact... “Say, Klaymen, do you think I could plant the guys in front of everybody? I'm sure the crowd would love it.”
“Klaya!” Hoborg cried out in exasperation. “Oh Quater, you're growing over my head.”
“Hoborg relax,” Klaya told the king. “They're my kids, you don't need to worry about them. Besides I asked Klaymen...”
“Obviously I have to worry about them, child, because you won't,” Hoborg struck at her. “You should try and put yourself into your sons' shoes! New beings don't react so well to being crowded right after they're created. They need some time to accommodate to their existence and that isn't so easy in a room full of people.”
Klaymen stepped forth, placing his hand on the king's shoulder. “Hoborg,” he said, “don't worry so much. Really.”
Klaymen nodded at Willie, who got the clue and came up to Hoborg's other side. “Klaymen is right,” he supported his friend. “Hoborg all pale and in pain. Willie can see it. So letting things go will do good. For everybody.” Willie looked up at Klaymen.
“We can handle it,” Klaymen assured Hoborg.
“Yeah, we help,” Willie beamed. “What do you need?”
Hoborg took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. There was a smile in his tone when he said: “Thank you, guys. Sometimes I wonder how I could get by without you.”
That made Klaya wonder just how responsible Hoborg felt for his world. To her it seemed like the prospect of danger coming to the Neverhood was tearing him apart from the inside. He must have loved the place and the people more than himself.
“Anytime,” Willie dismissed Hoborg's thanks with a wide grin. “What needs to be done?”
“Right.” Hoborg thought for a while. “Could you two check if everybody's gathered downstairs? Tell them I'll be there in a minute.”
Klaymen bowed and exited the room. Willie Trombone waved at Klaya before following.
“The three of you are really close,” Klaya observed.
“They've both saved my life once,” Hoborg answered, adjusting a leather strap on his chest. “I trust them completely and they help me with my duties. Now...” he faced Klaya. “Are you ready to go?”
“Impatient to go,” Klaya corrected him.
“Of course,” Hoborg smiled.
Halfway to the spirally staircase they encountered Willie. The hoophead's eyes were shining with excitement as he told them that everybody was gathered and waiting impatiently. Afterwards he hopped down the stairs yelling: “They're coming, they're coming!”
Klaya peeked down the circular opening in the ground. The foot of the staircase was flooded with Hoodians, each of them striving to catch a glimpse of who would be coming down.
The girl felt heat rush to her cheeks and she pulled back. Her heart was beating fast as a lopsided smile spread across her face.
Hoborg looked at her quizzically. Klaya chuckled, saying: “Go down already.” The king inclined his head to the back, probably his version of rolling his eyes, and descended into the hole. Gulping, Klaya followed.
She could hear the crowd chattering before she could see them. Then she emerged from the ceiling of the throne room and she could finally see them all.
So many faces looking at her. So many sparkling eyes and smiling mouths. So this was the entire Neverhood.
She chanced a smile and she waved at them. Instantly a forest of hands shot up, waving back. How many must have been there? Twenty, thirty? She was too dizzy to count. She clutched the railing firmly, focusing on not slipping on the narrow staircase.
When they reached the floor level, the crowd made way for Hoborg to pass through. The king held out his elbow to Klaya and it took her a few seconds to realise that he was offering her his arm. She smiled at him, lacing her arm through his, and the crowd murmured feverishly. She caught the words “so beautiful”.
And even in the highest high, as they walked toward the throne like she was the queen already, she realised that this was the first and last time they'd ever look at her like that.
But she quickly shook the thought off. It didn't matter. As soon as Hoborg was finished with his speech, she'd have five other things to worry about.
She was looking over the mass of Neverhoodians while Hoborg was introducing her. Mostly earthly colours, wide eyes and wide grins, but there were a few exceptions. Aside from Willie the yellow hoophead, there was an orange guy with a very long stem on his head. And then she caught sight of another figure. This Neverhoodian wasn't trying to be as close as possible to her, like the others were. She was leaning against the wall in the corner of the throne room, watching Klaya like a hawk. Or, considering the black flowing hair around her face and the unreadable, looming expression on her face, like a crow.
Klaya shuddered and focused on Hoborg's speech instead.
After a while of listening though, she grew confused. Hoborg wasn't talking about any danger at all. His voice was light and happy as he spoke about six new siblings, one sister and five brothers. Klaya blinked, staring at the king. He wasn't going to tell them. He wasn't going to share one bit of his concern and worries with them. Either he was very protective, or... She decided that she didn't want to finish that thought. No. This was his business. Whatever he chose to tell his kids, she wouldn't get caught up in it. She had five sons of her own to bring up.
And speaking of the devil, Hoborg wrapped up his speech with telling the Hoodians to make space in front of the throne. Their five new brothers would be born there and then.
This was her cue. Klaya stepped forward and down the stairs of the throne. She pushed the button on her chest with one hand and reached inside with the other. She counted the seeds on her palm. All five.
She stood at the bottom of the stairs, deep in focus. Throw them on the ground with the intention to create, Hoborg had said. Well, it was show time.
She threw the seeds to the ground before her.
For a moment, everything was still. And then the seeds sank into the purple floor and the earth spat out five figures. They threw out their arms to catch balance as their feet connected with the ground and they looked around, wide-eyed. Klaya stepped forward, outstretching her arms.
“Hey kids,” she greeted her sons into existence. “I'm your mom and this is your new king. Be nice to everyone, will you.”
The new beings stared at her before looking at each other. One of them inclined his head toward the throne. “We should introduce ourselves,” he muttered. His brothers nodded and spread out into a line before the throne.
“We are the Guardians,” the one Klaya assumed to be the leader said.
“Gome,” a fat purple boy at the left end of the line began.
“Usha,” a skinny one continued.
“Arig,” a green Guardian spoke.
“Ruze,” the leader introduced himself.
“And Dake,” an orange boy finished with a grin.
All together, they said: “At your service, sir.” With that they knelt before the throne. A row of fighters – no, warriors, who would protect this world at all costs.
Klaya threw Hoborg a smug grin over her shoulder. “Told ya this would work out,” she asserted.
Hoborg seemed stunned for a moment. He quickly recovered though, rising from his throne and proclaiming: “Welcome to the Neverhood!”
The crowd broke into cheering. “Welcome, welcome!” they repeated. Hoborg's voice was barely heard above the ruckus as he said: “Let's throw a party!” The Neverhoodians seemed to hear it nonetheless because the joyous jubilations intensified. Before Klaya knew it, she was surrounded by Hoodians who were talking to her, marvelling at her, tugging at her hands and demanding all her attention as they dragged her out of the throne room. She barely had time to see that her five sons were being treated in a similar fashion before she lost sight of them. While this unnerved her, she also realised that her sons knew a lot more of their situation than she did when she had come to life. They knew their names, their purpose and whom they served and she guessed that they needed nothing more.
Klaya enjoyed the first party of her life immensely. Everyone smiling and laughing and – naturally – being kind and courteous. She wished that every day could be like this. And from what she heard from the older Neverhoodians, they probably would. There was never a reason too silly to throw a party on the Neverhood. A world without pain, without suffering or death. A world of eternal, happy life. Who wouldn't want to live here?
It was only in the murky twilight before daybreak that Klaya remembered her talk with Hoborg. She thought to herself as she lay below Hoborg's section in the Hall of Records: Why was she needed on this world which had an abundance of everything? Why was Hoborg so scared of the prospect of a danger coming to the Neverhood? And why didn't he tell anyone but his closest friends about it?
As exhausted as she was, she couldn't sleep with these thoughts flocking in her head. She got up and walked through the Neverhood as morning light filled it. Precisely a day before, she had been born on this land. But had she come any closer to understanding the reason why?
One after another, she found her sons scattered across the land, sleeping and snoring to their hearts' content. She took a while to examine each of them. It was almost funny how different they looked. From a bony, light blue boy who looked like a gust of wind could blow him away, to a huge purple guy who reminded her of a big fish pulled out of water. Hoborg had said that they all had elemental powers and she'd already heard several stories of their showing off. She supposed that their bodies reflected their respective elements. Her skinny son could do various tricks with the air. The fishy one had splashed his friends with water without the need to touch it. The fierce looking guy, who she had deemed to be the leader, seemed to be able to shoot bolts of lightning. There was also a lean orange boy who kept asking if any girls lived on the Neverhood – his element was apparently fire. And the last, fifth boy, who was the hardest to find because he had climbed a tree and fallen asleep in its thick branches, could control anything made of earth.
Yes, they were the reason for her existence. But they were a reason that had already been fulfilled. There was no more upbringing to do – they were already as mature as she was, maybe even more. So what was she to do from now on?
“Console a lost soul?” someone said behind her.
Klaya jumped up. She spun around to see the crow girl from the throne room, leaning against a rock with her arms crossed. Klaya thought that she had spotted a sad expression on her face, but when she looked again there was only concern as the girl leaned toward her.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you,” she said, coming to Klaya's side. She was taller than the white Neverhoodian.
“I've seen you at the castle but not at the party,” Klaya observed, jutting her chest out to show she wasn't the least bit frightened. “What's your name?”
“They call me Tao,” the other Hoodian smiled. “And you're Klaya, the so-called angel of the Neverhood.”
“I thought Hoborg's clarified that,” Klaya frowned.
“He made a point out of it,” Tao agreed. “So why are you up at this hour?”
Klaya waved the question away. She wasn't going to talk about her early existential crisis to someone she'd barely met.
“Can't sleep?”
The white Hoodian grunted, coming up with an excuse. “I'm looking for a place to sleep. Do you happen to know about anything?”
“Well,” the black girl was taken by surprise, “most Neverhoodians just sleep wherever they want. Perks of being of best klay.”
Recalling her attempts to sleep in the Hall of Records, Klaya shook her head. “Cold hard ground doesn't really do it for me.”
Tao grinned a little. “Some lady, aren't we?”
Klaya bristled immediately. “Got a problem with that?”
“Not at all,” Tao raised her hands defensively. “There are beds in the castle.”
Klaya smacked her forehead. Of course – the bedrooms above the throne room. “Thanks for reminding me,” she told the crow girl. “I'll sleep there.”
“Are you sure?” Tao asked dubiously.
Already on her way to the teleporter, Klaya turned around. “Yeah. Is there a problem?”
“Some say that the castle is haunted by Klogg.”
“I don't believe in ghosts.”
“Others say that those rooms are for royal guests and not common Neverhoodians.”
“I don't see a problem with that.”
“There are also rumours that Hoborg snores horribly.”
Klaya was silent for a few beats. “...Hoborg sleeps there?”
Of course he did. She had seen him coming down those stairs in the morning, how could she have forgotten? Her memory was a mess at this hour.
“Well. All the more reason to sleep there, right? Make sure he doesn't get lonely.”
When Tao didn't object, Klaya resumed finding the nearest teleporter.
Behind her back she heard: “You're a peculiar one.”
Rolling her eyes she replied: “Yeah, you too.”
Reaching the throne room took Klaya more time than she had expected. It was already broad daylight when she climbed the spiral staircase in the middle and came to a halt in the circular room above. One of the doors placed symmetrically around its perimeter bore the sign of a crown. She placed the side of her head against it, listening for any sounds. But there was nothing. Not even the rumoured snoring.
“Scaredy cats,” Klaya mumbled. She found the room where Hoborg had taken her in the morning and slipped inside.
Before she fell asleep in the soft, warm bed, she wondered what awaited her and her sons on this world.
Great things for sure.
