The Universal Passenger Book 1. Someone Else
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“It feels like I’ve seen them somewhere before.”
She looked down and saw Lukas standing beside her.
“Hello, Lukas,” Sophia mumbled. “What are you doing here?”
“We came here with my mom and dad. Dad’s a collector. He takes us to different exhibitions and galleries all the time,” the boy replied, yawning as usual. “The painting is really beautiful. Maybe Dad will want to buy it —
In the distance, a shriek pierced the air. If people could have heard it, their eardrums would have burst.”
Sophia grimaced and turned to the very twins who had accompanied Lukas at the gas station.
As they swiftly approached the boy, their arms morphed into bat-like wings. They rushed toward him, enveloping him in a cocoon of their wings, their bodies merging into one, transforming them into Siamese twins.
Lukas instantly stopped smiling.
“Should we blame the boy for the fact that one individual's imagination can lead another to ponder? Kallidus is failing in his duties. I need to report how significant even a small breach in the dam can be,” muttered one of the twins.
“And how treacherous the consequences will be when the dam breaks, and a wave of circumstances sweeps over us all,” nodded the other.
“You know, Lukas, I think you’re too young for such a painting,” Sophia told the boy. “It’s more a fabrication from the realm of nightmares than something that carries goodness.”
“Well, thanks,” the twins replied in unison.
“Lorina, just listen to Ephor. Now we’re even a nightmarish vision,” one of them said.
“I think they’re good,” the boy insisted. “If only they were real, we could play together.”
“Edith, our boy can’t be scared so easily. Sometimes he has more courage than it seems. If an ant were to fear a large piece of bread, it would starve to death,” one twin replied.
“Lukas!”
Sophia’s chaotic thoughts were interrupted by a gruff male voice.
“You’ve wandered off again. Your mother and I taught you not to stray too far from us.”
A man in his mid-forties took the boy by the hand.
“But Dad, I loved the painting! I wanted to see it up close.”
“Poor boy,” the father’s guide said, placing a sympathetic hand on his chest. “So many trials for this little body.”
“Kanises are guides resembling elderly people with turtle-like skin, who always empathize with everyone. They are like invisible friends, endowed with boundless wisdom and compassion, evident in their gray, sagging eyes. They provide support to their charges, helping them accept themselves and others as they are. They are sociable, positive old folks. But that's only at first glance.
In the history of the Ephors, there was the first precedent when, in a moment of intense energy hunger, a Kanis revealed itself, becoming an ugly, withered skeleton with skin. Its charge lost their forgetfulness and remembered what their guide looked like during “feeding”. Subsequently, earthly people in Shendit began to mummify the bodies of the deceased to believe in an afterlife, thinking it important to preserve the body for the journey to a higher realm because the soul must remain in its corporeal shell. Funny? The Ephors thought so. However, the Guide was strictly punished for such a transgression and was forever sent to the Higher World. What happened to him afterward remains unknown.”
The elderly woman twirled her owl-shaped amulet on a long chain in her hands. Her long gray hair cascaded down her shoulders in thin strands, while the back was braided into a loose braid. The wind couldn’t affect the Guide, but it seemed her long white shirt dress swayed gently in the breeze, and her cowboy boots tapped playfully on the floor.
She stood beside her charge, gently touching his elbow, and smiled approvingly the entire time.
“Don’t interfere,” Edith’s sharp voice pulled Sophia back to reality. “No need to worry about others' nests like a cuckoo.”
The twins no longer looked like children. Now, two young women stood before her. They still ‘wrapped’ their wings around Lucas but had separated from each other.
“Your son is very brave for his age,” Sophia said to the father, diverting her attention from the guides' bickering. “How old is he, six?”
“He’ll be seven this year. I would certainly argue about bravery,” the man chuckled. “What do you say? Is the picture really that intriguing?”
“Honestly, I prefer other works more,” she replied, trying to feign an interested expression. “For example, a giraffe with an ice cream cone for a head could be a great decoration for a children’s party in the yard.”
The boy’s father nodded in agreement:
“Let’s go, Lucas. We still have a lot of work to see.”
“But Dad—” the boy pouted.
“No arguing, son,” the father said, stroking his son’s head and leading him away, ignoring his whimpers.
Following him, shaking their heads, the twins and the father’s guide left. The tension between them seemed palpable. Flavuses become adults in moments of danger for their charges, but what danger could there be from his father, or perhaps it was the Kanis —
The event was slowly drawing to a close, and people began to disperse. The walls thinned out as some bought paintings. Fortunately for Sophia, no one bought the twins.
Libby wandered gloomily around the columns with empty spots for paintings, trying all evening to avoid the other guides. It seemed she noticed the disapproving glances.
When the last visitor finally left, Sophia sat down on the couch and looked at Van. He appeared a bit tired and thoughtful.
“Can I smoke?” she asked.
“Yes of course,” Constantin pulled an ashtray from under the bar and handed it to her.
“It was incredibly interesting,” she said, exhaling a puff of smoke.
“Are you kidding me?” Disappointment was evident in Constantin’s voice.
“What do you mean?” Sophia didn’t understand.
“I heard your conversation with the boy and his father, Sophia. Why did you say not to buy that piece? Is it really that bad?”
“Nonsense.” Sophia extinguished her cigarette in the ashtray. “It’s not about that at all.”