Chapter Text
At first, there was nothing. The only thing the young boy saw was darkness. Silence greeted him as his consciousness started to take form. He then started to hear sounds. He heard a crackling sound bouncing off the walls, and strong gusts just beyond.
Slowly, that darkness behind his eyes began to dissipate as he began to open his eyes, being blinded by a bright, golden light. Squinting his eyes open and closed a handful of times, the light began to vanish and his eyes, adjusting to the room around him. He sat with his knees to his chest and arms wrapped around them, sitting in a soft, white, cushion-like ground. Glowing circles surrounded the ground around him, slowly fading from view as they lost their spark. Eventually turning completely invisible.
He raised his head, slowly taking in the new world around him. In front of him sat a grey wall painted in orange hues. The wall encircled him, creating a sense of safety. His eyes first travelled left, and then right after he was greeted with an empty wall. On his right he was taken aback by this dancing light of orange. It bounced in the wind, causing the light in the room to fluctuate, causing shadows to appear and disappear in seconds.
Fascinated, he watched the flames for a while. Seeing the sparks crackle, and watching how the loose flames fade away. His eyes follow one of the sparks farther right, leading his eyes to the entrance of this closed space. White specks were moving violently beyond the walls, angry whirls of wind rushed past the cave. But what caught his most curious eyes was the person standing in front of him.
A white veiled hood ran along her back, her body blocking the storm from behind. Long, golden hair covered the front of her body, matching the golden patterns on her white and black dress.She looked down at the boy and as his eyes wandered, her smile grew. “Why, hello there.” She greeted him with a warm voice.
“H-hello”
The woman’s expression changed to slight shock that was slowly replaced with confidence. “You can speak. How about movement? Can you move your arms?” She then demonstrated, bringing her hands up from her sides with her palms facing up. The boy then carefully unravelled his arms. Pushing them into the ground to turn his body to face her, then copying her motion.
Pleased, she continued. “And your legs, stand up.” The boy brought his arms back down, when he went to place his hands back on the ground to lift himself up, he saw the divots in the ground where his hands previously were. The ground most definitely wasn’t like that before, gripping the snow under his fingers and watching how it changed its shape. Eyes bright with wonder, he went to lift himself from the ground but his hands gave out from under him. Causing him to fall back on his elbows.
Sitting up, he tried again, and again, but his body was too heavy and slumped back down to the ground again. He realized he couldn’t get up like this, some kind of force was keeping him down, so he tried a new approach. He watched as he moved his legs so they sat underneath him. Cautiously, he brought one knee up to his chest and pushed off the ground once again. His back leg kept him grounded as he found his balance, and when he was confident in his posture he looked back at the lady in white.
She addressed him with a commanding certainty in her voice, “Homunculus made of chalk and snow, you will now be known as Kreideprinz. My creation.” The woman then approached him, inspecting his body as though she’d find a crack hidden within the crevasses of his body. Lifting his arms and running her hand down the back of his calf, allowing his creator to search. For what, he didn’t know, but there he stood exactly as she positioned him.
Arms straight creating a line that she dragged her hand from one end of his hand and across his shoulders to the other hand. His feet stood together as his eyes made an attempt to follow his creator's hands from behind. She then went to face him, looking at him from the bottom up. Finally she took his chin in her hand and tilted his head upwards, “tch, imperfect.” then pushing his head down to conclude her findings.
Kreideprinz stood there for a few minutes, watching the woman take a few steps back from him, pondering what to do. He just stared and made the conscious decision to slowly bring his arms down to his sides. He wasn’t told to, but it felt right. To his left an icicle hung from the cave entrance and when he focused on it, he could faintly see colours reflected back at him.
The reflection was warped and far too small to make anything out, but his brain could fill in the gaps. The orange line was a reflection of the fire just below it, and the other side carried dark hues of blue from the outside. In the middle-right he could see white and small specks of gold that he could guess reflected the lady in front of him. But he couldn’t place the colours that sat directly in the middle of the icy pike.
A peachy coloured blob looked back at him. He tilted his head to the side as the reflection moved with him, watching how his different perspectives made the light move. Before his attention was taken up more by this interesting dynamic of light, the woman handed him some cloth. Soft to the touch, it came in shades of purple and black. The boy's hands came up to accept the gift, looking it over.
Some holes were cut into the fabric and Kreideprinz’s curiosity had him stick his arm through one hole and out the other. The first hole was fairly big, but the second fit was a perfect fit around his arm. Realizing this, he gently placed the black fabric on the ground and then lifted the purple one up above his head. Pulling the shirt over his head and through his arms, he then bent down to pick up and inspect the black material. He found three holes cut into it and sat down on the ground to pull them over top of his legs.
A purple t-shirt and long black pants now adorned his body. He admitted that it was quite a plain outfit compared to his creator’s, but he felt no need to complain. The longer he sat in the snow, the more he came to notice the fabric getting wetter. The wet clothes he found weren’t the most comfortable, so he got back on his feet. He glanced over his shoulder as he gained his balance once again and noticed the shape he once more left in the ground.
He then lifted his right foot, pressing it into the ground, and lifting it. Again, the snow had changed its form to imitate his foot. A small smile graced his face at the discovery, and found himself doing it again. His actions made the beautiful white snow beneath him, “imperfect.” That’s all it took for him to understand what he was to this woman. An imperfection.
Feeling a pair of eyes on him, the boy looked up to find the lady's focused gaze on him. It felt as though she were making silent calculations, supposedly, about him. She had called him imperfect and yet he could see no faults. He followed her instructions and only mimicked her actions. Perhaps this dependency is what he lacked, and so he asked, “why, did you create me?”
The words came naturally to him, despite never learning the language. He understood what he was saying despite having never spoken it. However the woman was silent. He was confident he had used the right phrase, so he stood in the cold. Calculated blue eyes anticipating an answer.
After a heartbeat, her voice carried a sense of familiarity. “I simply wanted someone to carry on my teachings too.” So his purpose was to learn? In that case, he would learn all he could to prove he was no imperfection. This world he was born into fascinated him and his curiosity would only fuel his ever expanding mind. “Very well, where do we begin?”
His curious eyes stared into her cold ones, showing no sign of emotion. The winds howled in the pitch black of night and the sounds bounced off the walls. The flames lit inside the small cave danced and one strong gust of wind later, one of the torches went out. The room got visibly darker, casting more shadows over the two figures that stood facing one another.
“Hm, that won’t do.” the woman spoke, her breath now much more visible due to the cold. “Reignight the flame.” Kreideprinz’s head turned toward the warm coals, following her command. He walked up to the burnt out fire, observing the wood and steel that was in front of him. He took a knee next to the object so he could get a better look at how the structure stood up. His hand running along the rough texture, fingers tracing the twine holding the logs together.
His head turned on its side as he ducked under the metal plate, looking for some kind of starting mechanism. He pushed the plate up off its pedestal and back down to no such luck. There was nothing on the ground that indicated what the next step would be so Kreideprinz took to his feet once more. Eyes scanning the top of the plate now, black coals sat inside. Hand reaching out, he picked up one of the stones feeling the light weight in his hand.
His hands were bright red against the black coal. As he turned the stone over in his hand, he noticed some dark pigment left in place. It was chalk-like and grainy, smudging in his palm. Intrigued, he brought his attention back to the burnt out torch. Bringing his free hand up to the metal disk, his fingers dipped into the bowl, and under the coals he found more of the powdery substance.
He rubbed his fingers together, pondering as the ash fell from his hands. A strikingly loud cackle from the flame behind him snapped him out of his thoughts, capturing his attention. Perhaps if he could find the components that kept the other fire lit, he could reignite the other one. His feet guided him to the bright source of light that stood on the opposite side of the cave entrance. Humbled by the flame that danced in the wind he scanned it for answers.
From the outside, it all looked the same. The logs were tied with the same thin rope and a similar metal plate sat on top. It was smooth like the other one and the coals sat in the dip. The same ashy powder even sat beneath the coals. It all looked the same except, upon closer inspection, Kreideprinz noticed something else sat inside the flame.
Something tall would occasionally peak out from under the flame, but was far too bright to see. It seems that he’d have to identify what was inside the fire to recreate it, but how was he to diminish the light? Everything inside the pot seemed to be dry ingredients, so in hypothesis, what if he mixed it with wet ingredients? His pants were still a little damp from the ground, so he scooped up a handful of snow, patting it down around the base of the torch.
The action made the flame a little weaker and so he attempted to put the flame out again with more snow this time. Sure enough, by the third scoop of snow, he could finally see the small logs of wood that had been encased by fire. The light inside the cave was very faint now, only allowing the blonde haired boy to see what sat directly in front of him. The bottom of the wood had been charred, chunks of burnt wood were flaking off as Kreideprinz poked and prodded at the large stick. Taking note of how it matched the ashes below.
Quickly and carefully, Kreideprinz picked up one of the burning logs carrying it over to the first torch. As he passed the cave opening a strong gust of wind fluttered around the boy. He felt his hair move across his neck and cover his eyes, bringing a hand up to push it away. What concerned him more than his vision being momentarily obstructed was how even with his eyes open, the cave seemed to be getting darker. He looked down at the flame in his hands, slowly diminishing before him.
Alarmed, Kreideprinz covered the fire with his body before the storm could blow it out and placed it in the tray of coals. The boy waited patiently for the flames to once again rise, but to no such luck. With a hum, he pondered once more what he could be missing. Now both trays have a flame in them and yet the fire isn’t growing. The light inside the cave is only getting darker and soon, there will be no light at all.
He noticed that where the wood was wet, the fire refused to spread. He thought that with time the wood would dry on its own and relight itself, but it seemed like he had to acquire some dry kindling to keep the fire going. The torch needed all three pillars of wood to stay standing upright, so that was a no go. Kreideprinz looked up and around the shelter, maybe there would be something he missed earlier that could help? His head turned as his eyes squinted in the darkness of the room.
The first thing the boy noticed was the lady that stood near the wall with a deadpan expression was now nowhere to be seen. She would have been easy to see with her pale complexion even in the dark. When had she left? He must’ve been so busy thinking he never noticed her slip by him. Regardless, he had to figure this out without asking her for guidance.
Refocusing, he had to figure out how to navigate in the dark. The two torches on the right burned a little brighter than the singular one on the left he had brought over, casting a little more light. He could take another torch but would the flame even stay lit long enough outside the metal disc? That’s when he noticed the pattern in the snow.
The fire could produce just enough light to highlight the shadows left by his footsteps in the snow. So with his back to the wall, Kreideprinz walked to the back of the cave. If there was anything that could be of help, he’d have a much easier time seeing its shadow than the object itself. Feeling the rocks pressed against him, Kreideprinz scanned the room from the left to the right. Icicles reflected little dots of light from the ceiling, and footsteps buried deep in the snow.
Close to the wall on the far right where the lady previously stood, was a foreign shape. Inquisitive as to what it could be, Kreideprinz took steps toward the bumpy shadow. He couldn’t see what it was, but picking it up it was lighter than the coals. The texture was rough on his hands and poked him ever so slightly. He could tell he was dropping bits and pieces of something as he walked closer to the fire, but caring for the flame came first.
Holding up the object to the orange light, he could see it was a bunch of tiny sticks held together in a rope. A small ember caught the end of the bundle of sticks and when it caused a little flame to spark, Kreideprinz separated the sticks, throwing half into the fire. Very quickly the cave began to become brighter with light. Kreideprinz’s eyes shot up at his new discovery and now with the bright light, was able to quickly make his way over to the other torch, lighting it up once more.
Having successfully completed his task, Kreideprinz looked out at the blowing storm. The wind had calmed down and now light snowflakes danced past the cave. Reigniting the fire had been no easy task, but he proved himself capable. He would prove to his creator, to himself, that he could be the perfect creation, despite whatever flaw she had seen in him.