Chapter Text
Zenovia ran as quick as her leg and prosthetic could take her. She had no idea where she was going, but it had to be anywhere but her hometown in the Soviet Union.
She felt the wind run through the empty socket of her right eye (left if you look at her from an outside perspective), but didn’t flinch like she usually did. Zenovia had absolutely no time to flinch, trip or stumble. She needed to get away from the Soviet Union.
Days of traveling, and Zenovia found a boat. One that would be leaving soon. She couldn’t get on due to the boat being one for supplies, but she was clever. She found a way.
Zenovia climbed into a large crate, which was almost her height (around six feet) and hid under the packing peanuts. She stayed perfectly still, her one eye watching the surface she could see above. The packing peanuts felt horribly uncomfortable in her eye socket, but she had to ignore it. Finally, she held her breath as a light above shone, a crate being set down inside and more packing peanuts being piled on.
She then felt the crate being lifted up, and a remark from outside. ‘Черт! Это тяжелый ящик!’ [Damn it! It’s a heavy box!] Zenovia sweated. She hoped the people outside wouldn’t notice that the ‘heavy box’ as they said, was holding a runaway sixteen year old.
The crate was finally set down on the ship, and the journey began. Zenovia moved easy enough to sit up in a hunch in the crate. She opened the box inside of the crate and saw it was full of Vareniki. Zenovia’s mouth drooled as she eagerly ate a few, but was smart enough to only eat a bit every day.
It took three weeks to make it to a different land, and by the time she woke, the crate was already set down somewhere else. The air smelled of coffee, fruits and bustling voices. Zenovia peeked through the cracks of the crate and saw green. Tons of it. In the Soviet Union, there wasn’t much green. Just mostly white snow covering the place in blankets.
Zenovia finally confirmed no one was around before climbing out of the crate, finishing off the Vareniki before walking off to find civilization. She walked for miles, and miles, and it was hard on her one leg, since her prosthetic leg didn’t feel pain and all.
She was starting to get hungry, and her stomach was feeling not-so-great from the river water she drank. God, she probably shouldn’t have done that.
Soon, Zenovia came across some mountains. High ones. She walked around them before she found a tunnel that went through. She walked through, having to crawl out the last part, since the hole got smaller as she went through, but she soon came across a town in the distance. She smiled, one thing she hadn’t done in a while. At least, not since she saw that Vareniki in the box. God, that had felt like the best feeling ever.
She was gonna make her way to the town, get some food, drink some good water, but exhaustion and fatigue caught up to her, and she passed out.
The party was thriving, everyone having a great time while Camilo laughed and whooped and hollered with joy. Today was his sixteenth birthday, and boy, was he having a blast.
People danced, drums played and guitars thrummed. Beautiful Colombian music filled the Casita. Though, even birthday boys with a need for action needed a breather sometimes.
“Alright, Gente de fiesta [Party people], I gotta take five, I’ll be back!”
Camilo said coolly to the kids he’d been telling jokes to, who laughed and waved Camilo a temporary goodbye. They knew the life of the party would be back sooner than later.
Camilo walked along the path, feeling pretty good about himself. Birthdays kinda have that effect, ya know? Especially ones spent with friends, family, and the town he loves. Especially now that the whole fiasco with Mirabel and Abuela is fixed and everyone’s happy.
Camilo hadn’t even realized he’d gone far until he looked up at the sky and saw the many stars, unlike the slightly fewer stars near the Casita due to the bright lights. He shrugged and turned to head back, but noticed something from the corner of his eye.
A body.
Okay, fine, maybe Camilo accidentally screeched like a little girl, but he got over it quick, cautiously approaching the body. He carefully felt the pulse of the face-down person and sighed of relief when he felt that they were alive, just passed out.
Camilo carefully turns the person on their back and blinks at the sight. Eyes closed, a strange scar around her left eye, and a peaceful expression. She had short, thin blonde hair and pale skin, her body having a red hoodie and pants. He trailed his eyes down to find that the girl had a prosthetic leg with the word ‘Ангел’ carved onto it.
Camilo stupidly tried to read it out loud, horribly butchering the Russian words.
“Ahh-re…. What even is that last one? Is that supposed to be an ‘n’??”
Camilo mutters to himself loudly, but quickly ignores his thoughts and attempts to pick the girl up. He wasn’t strong like Luisa, but he could drag someone around if they were light enough! Good news is, this girl WAS light enough! Probably not a good thing though. But the bad news is, the prosthetic leg weighed the girl down.
Camilo dragged the girl with his hands under her arms and hooking her armpits, uttering soft ‘sorry’s on the way. Camilo soon made it back, some of the kids waiting outside for Camilo. They ran over and saw the girl’s body.
“Whoa! Who’s this? Is she dead?”
A particularly curious kid asked.
“No, dummy! She passed out, clearly!”
A snarky kid argued.
“Chill out guys, she’s just some girl I found. Definitely not dead.”
The snarky kid gave the curious kid a prideful huff.
“Can one of you get Tía Julieta for me? She’ll be able to help. And maybe Pepa too.”
The kids nodded and ran off to get the women, Camilo staying to help prop the passed out girl on a nearby bench, that way he didn’t get more dirt on her than there already was.
Camilo examined the girl. Man, she was lanky. Tall, too. Way taller than Camilo’s five foot four. That prosthetic leg looked pretty badass, but Camilo couldn’t help but wonder what happened to have the girl get her leg amputated.
Camilo was snapped out of his gaze when he heard his mother, Pepa calling out to him. Camilo looked up and saw that she was telling Camilo to bring the girl inside. Camilo nodded and did his best to pick up the girl, struggling for a moment before he suddenly thought of something. He shifted into Luisa, and despite not having her gift, he was still able to hold the girl up better. Camilo went inside and set the girl on the couch, shifting back into himself.
Some of the family was gathered around and some townspeople were headed home. Pepa stared in worry at the girl, a cloud forming over her head. Félix attempted to waft away the cloud, but he was too short and only ended wafting away a bit of the cloud. Julieta and her daughters had went off to gather some food for the girl, for when she woke up. Camilo simply explained how he found the girl.
“And boom! There she was! Out cold!”
Camilo says, gesturing dramatically. Dolores lets out a soft ‘hm’.
“She doesn’t look like someone from here, maybe she climbed the mountains and passed out from exhaustion.”
Dolores whispered, examining the girl’s face. She then perked up.
“She’s waking up.”
Camilo looks at Dolores before he looks back at the girl. Dolores must’ve heard her eyelids twitching as the girl regained consciousness. The girl finally opened her eyes, and everyone went silent. The girl only had one eye, the other having a gaping eye socket. So that’s what the scar around her eye was about..
The girl immediately covered her eye socket, not out of embarrassment, but because the air was swirling in her eye socket and it bothered her. The girl sat up, back pressing against the cushion of the couch.
“Какого черта..” [What the hell..]
The girl muttered in a different language, one that none of the family understood. The room was silent before Camilo piped up with a ‘huh’, earning a harsh nudge from his mother.
Pepa stepped forward, talking in a soft voice.
“Can you speak English, sweetie?”
The girl blinked at Pepa.
“Español?” [Spanish?]
Pepa asks in Spanish. The girl blinked again. She then spoke.
“Русский.” [Russian.]
Pepa tilted her head. The girl sighed, then said.
“I speak English also.”
The girl said in broken English, her accent heavy. She knew English, due to having studied the language, but she never really learned to speak English. Pepa nodded.
“So, you understand me?”
“Mhm.”
Pepa sighed of relief, mostly because she wouldn’t have to go through the trouble of teaching the girl English or learning her language.
“What’s your name, sweetie?”
Pepa asked in a soft, motherly tone, to which the girl replied:
“Zenovia Sholokhov.”
Zenovia replies, accent thick. Antonio, who had entered on his Jaguar, causing Zenovia to flinch back and try to get as far away from the creature as possible.
“What happened to your eye and leg?”
Antonio asks curiously, not meaning to be insulting. Zenovia stares at the Jaguar, uttering rushed words.
“Что это за хрень?!” [What the fuck is this?!]
She practically exclaimed, pressed up against the other end of the couch. The Jaguar moved closer.
“Don’t worry, he’s friendly.”
Antonio reassured coolly, waving a hand. Zenovia didn’t relax, glancing around at the people surrounding her. Everyone backed up a bit to give her air, but Camilo didn’t, watching with fascination. He’d been strangely quiet so far.
Pepa left to go help Julieta, Félix following with her, and Antonio left to go chill in his room. That left Camilo and Zenovia to their own accord.
Camilo finally went over in a flash, practically bouncing in place.
“Where are you from? How are you so tall? What’s with the leg? What’s with the eye? What-“
Camilo bombarded Zenovia with questions, to which she quickly tried to get Camilo to stop.
“Остановись! Остановись! Расслабься!”[Stop! Stop! Relax!]
Zenovia said, holding up her hands. Camilo piped down and waited, bouncing in place still, full of energy.
“Eh… 1: Soviet Union. 2: don’t know. 3, 4: don’t ask.”
Zenovia responds, still a bit uncomfortable. Camilo, being the jokester he is, decides to try and lighten the mood.
“I see you’re stressed m’lady, don’t worry though, I’ll turn that frown upside down!”
Zenovia blinks at Camilo’s little dramatic display, but doesn’t say anything. That is, until Camilo transforms into Zenovia, bouncing around in a goofy way.
“Ooooo~ I’m all scared and tall and-“
Camilo switches to a horrible rendition of Zenovia’s Russian accent.
“-Talk like this! I’m-“
Camilo pauses when he sees Zenovia’s horrified expression.
“Oh. Right. You’re not from around here.”
Camilo says, shifting back into himself.
“Okay, so basically the rundown is that all of my family, the Madrigals have gifts given to us by our magic doors and some magic candle, except for Mirabel and Abuela. My whole thing is that I shape shift! Antonio back there with the Jaguar can talk to animals. my Tía Julieta has healing powers through her amazing food. Ya hungry?” [Tía means ‘Aunt’]
Zenovia forgets about the whole shape shifting thing instantly, perking up at the mention of food.
“Да! Я умираю с голоду!” [Yes! I’m starving!]
Camilo laughs at Zenovia’s enthusiasm, grinning. He may not be able to understand her one bit, but he could understand a hungry person when he saw one.
“I’ll take that as a yes! I’ll go see if she’s done with the food, I’m sure you’ll love it!”
Camilo says excitedly, rushing off to check on the food for Zenovia.
Zenovia sits there, contemplating all that happened over the course of a few weeks. Running from the Soviet Union, hiding in that crate, traveling through this land, and being found by this.. seemingly sweet family. Zenovia could practically feel the warmth of the family’s care. She snaps out of it and looks down at her prosthetic leg. She needs to let her leg breathe. The last time she took off her prosthetic was when she was in that crate. She begins undoing the prosthetic.
Camilo comes back with a plate of empanadas, but stops before entering to peek in and see what Zenovia was doing. Camilo watches as she took her prosthetic off and pulled out a cloth to clean the inside where it attached to her stump. Her slender fingers worked through the crevices and holes, inserting her finger with the cloth through one particularly stubborn hole and pushing in and out.. in.. out… Camilo began to get not-so-pure thoughts from the movement, and entered, speaking up to break the silence.
“What’s it say?”
Camilo asks, causing Zenovia to pause and perk up. She then continued working on the prosthetic.
“Hm?”
Camilo sits down on the couch next to Zenovia and sets the plate down. He resisted the urge to snag an empanada for himself.
“The thing on your prosthetic leg, what’s it say? It’s written all weird.”
Zenovia looks down at the leg, then speaks.
“Ангел.”
Camilo tilts his head.
“What’s that mean?”
Zenovia clears her throat before she speaks in English.
“Angel.”
Camilo nods as he silently lets out an ‘ohh’, adjusting himself.
“Fresco! [Cool!] Didja engrave it yourself?”
Zenovia pauses before nodding.
“Да.” [Yes.]
She then leans forward, tilting her head.
“‘Fresco’?”
She questions, not knowing what it means. Camilo lets out an ‘ah’.
“It means ‘cool’ basically.”
Camilo explains, while Zenovia nods. She then asks another question.
“Where am I?”
She asks in English, knowing that Camilo won’t understand her if she speaks in Russian all the time. Camilo chuckles.
“You’re in the Madrigal’s Casita! That means ‘house’.”
Zenovia shakes her head.
“Нет.[No.] Where am I?”
Camilo thinks for a moment before realizing what Zenovia means.
“Ohhhhh! What country, I see now! Well, my foreign friend, you’re in Colombia!”