From Naya and Zenkhald's POV
We lay on the clouds. Almost quiet. Only the wind.
"Naya," Father said. "Why have you been talking to Art less lately? And crossing paths with him in general. Yesterday you didn't even sit at the table. We need to eat together."
Naya lay with her eyes closed.
"Father... just, please, don't tell anyone. Especially Art."
"Alright," Zenkhald said.
Naya was silent for a bit.
"Mama smells unpleasant. And lately she has started to stink too... And Art... he seems to stink more and more every day."
She opened her eyes.
"I see how hard he tries. But I try not to show how strong I am. I'm afraid that he will simply give up and stop trying."
"I see," Zenkhald said. "I feel calmer now."
Naya sat up abruptly and looked down at him.
"Father, what do you mean calmer? Help Art become strong. You are strong. And Mama is strong. That means Art can become strong too."
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Zenkhald looked at the sky.
"By the way, why did Art stop going up to the clouds with us?"
"He said it's cold up there. And he won't go anymore," she answered.
Naya frowned.
"Aunt Mira told me the same thing."
"Look after Art," Zenkhald said.
"Alright."
"It's time to go down."
Snap.
They began to fall rapidly downwards. In the last meters, Naya slowed her fall with the wind. Zenkhald just kept falling like a stone.
They entered the inside of the mountain.
"Father, Father, they are saying something over there."
Beings from different races were sitting in the central square, heatedly discussing something.
"Looks like... religion? Or racial equality?" Naya said.
Zenkhald chuckled.
"It doesn't matter."
"What are they talking about?"
"Is it an unhappy people that lives here?" he said. "They are discussing something other than what they will eat tomorrow. As for me—they are happy."
Naya fell into thought.
Father sometimes says strange things... but the older I get, the more I understand his words.
From Art's POV
I am already ten years old. We finished regular school.
Father went somewhere. Mama said he has business to attend to.
But before that... Father's hair was black. And his eyes—completely black. No whites. And he behaved much stranger.
He hasn't been home for two weeks now. And it's as if the house has emptied.
Food no longer appears on its own. Naya and I had to learn how to cook ourselves. Because Mama doesn't know how.
And in general... The world suddenly became much bigger.
Recently we helped friends from school—harvesting crops on their farm. And then for the first time I saw the difference in parents. Not ours. Others'.
And overall... only now have I started to notice a lot of things.
Naya communicates with me less and less. And has seemingly distanced herself.
I don't understand what's happening. But it seems... everything is starting to change.