November 6th, 2025
Antarcha
Children were fascinating things. Helpless, stupid, yet utterly curious to the nature of the world. They were wholly reliant on caretakers, but were practically impossible to monitor. Wynterre had never given much thought to motherhood, to her mother’s absolute disappointment through many blind dates with Antarchan nobles. In the year and months since she assumed care of the FiHami Coron’shi, Wynterre decided that children were the bane of her existence and she would never care for children once the child was returned to a proper caretaker.
FiHami had announced their selection of a new head of state, a new Ha’Coron’ within Texeteti’s friends. Ha’Coron’ Halaka Kilaweioni proved to be cruel as power was gradually given to her, causing even more refugees which Antarcha, among many others, took in and gave shelter and hope. Certain less-trustworthy outlets began circulating news that Halaka was grilling and eating the children of public enemies, though Wynterre’s sources couldn’t find actual evidence of such atrocities occuring.
Evidence. Such a prized commodity in Antarcha, equated to the father of Reason. Through Reason, ancient Antarchans claimed, all matters could be settled.
There was no reasoning with Texeteti’. Wynterre had tried, only to leave with her head nearly detached from her body multiple times. She was seen as an enemy, and science did Texeteti’ make sure it was known that Wynterre was number one on his list.
“Child, get down from there.” Wynterre scooped up the 5 year old FiHami rascal that had caused so much property damage to the palace already with her antics. “What did I say about climbing the fridge?”
“Faisl sin dararan nurr.” Do it only if there’s danger.
Wynterre blinked. She did not authorize teaching the child Antarchan, in fact, she had made sure any discussions and commands were given in Finixi or Austral.
Where in the scientific method did the child learn Antarchan?!?
“Don’t worry, Huahasi told me I need to learn languages so I can be a better ruler than ever when I’m old. So I learned Antarchan while I’m here. I know what all the servants-”
“Employees. Antarcha does not refer to its employees as servants.”
“Sorry.” The child giggled. She wriggled out of Wynterre’s arms and launched herself down the hall. She stopped at the end of the hall and turned to face Wynterre with full seriousness, as the child’s demeanor was the first several months of her residence at the palace.
“I know wa isn’t coming back. I watched them derail the train. I watched wa fall down the mountain. I made sure the person that did it suffered before joining wa.”
As if nothing was said, the child took off back to her own room, leaving Wynterre back to her own devices. She never believed in reincarnation, she never believed in afterlife. But her time with the child began sowing seeds of doubt that couldn’t exactly be washed away.
“We are both young, and leaders of our countries. I think we should make sure we are as close as possible. The rest of the world doubts our leadership.” Finix walked Wynterre along the beach a few weeks after the crowning ceremony. They had developed a close friendship in such a short amount of time, with so many plans of mutual agreements and friendship between the two countries. Finix, the war-hardened leader who never had asked for anything except a quiet life.
“Agreed. In Antarcha alone I have the elder nobility breathing down my back all the time. It is tiring.” Wynterre sighed. Finix nodded in agreement with a heavy sigh of her own.
“Heavy is the crown, after all. The crown forced upon us.”
The child in the palace bore a striking resemblance to Wynterre’s late friend. The flip between serious child that everyone called Finix, and the fun-loving child who called herself “Hafi” when alone, a deeply-concerning flip.
If you are truly my departed friend, make it known. Give me evidence as to the nature of your existence.