This was an architectural response to the âFairy Talesâ competition by Blank Space. It was an exploration of an alternate future that was hopeful rather than the post-apocalyptic views often portrayed in media.Â
The full story that pears with the images above is here:
âIâm so hungryâ
âYouâre always hungry.â Nero grumbled, trying to ignore Bea. She had that look in her eye, which was never a good thing.
âToday Iâm going to do it. I really am.â Bea leaned in, whispering loudly. Nero glanced at the holo-screen to see if the teacher had noticed but the image only continued to drone.
â...living in the wake of the world on the brink. As a society facing mass starvation, resources depleted, the Silverwing Accords brought the dissolution of the northern armies.â
âMy Gran-poppo says things were harder when he was a kid.â Nero tried to change the subject hoping Bea would focus on their lesson. History was his favorite.
ââŚafter the meat wars, the underground movement began as an attempt to rebalance the ecosystem.â
âMy Gran-poppo says the same. They all do. That's why I'm going to discover The Monarchâs secret once and for all. Tonight!â
Nero trembled at the mention of the enigmatic guardian of Sky-Hex 13. He was the stuff of nightmares. Both kids looked out the small classroom window, towards the peaks of the Comb. It wasnât visible now, but when the sun slipped below the horizon, the skyline would glow with a sickly pallor, casting an eerie haze over The Monarchâs domain.
âYou canât actually be thinking of going there. Itâs not worth it just for food. Youâll never make it back in one piece.â
Beaâs stomach grumbled again as she looked at the lush rooftops bursting with green, deceptively inviting, calling to her like a beacon. Night would bring a different truth, hauntingly tempting. With summer nearly gone, finding the secret hidden within The Monarchâs mysterious lights became more important than ever.
âMy mom will kill me if I skip class.â He protested weakly
âThe substitute holo will never notice. Think about what we could eat if we find the secret source.â Bea leaned in closer. âWe'll be legends!â
âYou think too much with your stomachâ Nero groaned as he considered her scheme. It was their first year in Hex 6 Elementary. Nero wanted more than anything to fit in. One peek at The Monarch's domain would make them heroes.
âFine.â He pouted. âBut we are just going to look. Thatâs it!â
They slipped out the back of the classroom, traveling through the murky void beneath the waterfall before spilling into the bright market plaza buzzing with activity. Above them, the quilted faces of the Comb cascaded down the hillside in a riot of colors and ordered chaos. Easily navigating along the base of the Comb, they arrived beneath the familiar awning of âMamaâs Grubâ, a favorite food stall of Neroâs. When Bea ignored the delicious aromas wafting from inside to pull him around the back, his shoulders sagged in disappointment. Bea wasted no time snatching a pole from her hiding spot before steering them toward the hyper-hex station. Â At Neroâs questioning gaze Bea merely shrugged.Â
âIâll need a weapon. Trema said this was my best bet.â Nero hoped it wouldnât come to that. He already regretted his decision to tag along.
When they finally reached the surface, Bea practically dragged her reluctant friend off the hyper-hex train. Emptied long before their stop, no one questioned their destination as they emerged from the station. The vivid colors of the sunset washed the skies with a cheerfulness Bea found hard to muster. Grass so thick and green you could wrap yourself in it like a blanket spread across endless hills.
âI love being grounded.â Visiting the surface was her favorite. However, sheâd never been on this side of the Comb. Nero, one step behind, hesitated to leave the safety of the tunnelâs entrance.
âLook, I can see the trees. Theyâre beginning to glow.â A long fence wrapped its way down the hill along a perfectly ordered forest. They followed the path with cautious steps, alert and uneasy. Reaching the fence, Bea climbed the splintered wood to see above the tall grasses.
Just then a shadow passed among the trees.
âWhat was that?â Bea jumped, dragging Nero down behind the post.
âWhat if itâs The Monarch?â Nero whispered back. Her heart raced as she clutched her weapon tightly to her chest. âWe shouldnât be here. We really shouldnât be here.â Nero had already caught a glimpse of the lights, and that was enough for him.
âI want to go back.â He whined, tugging on her sleeve. Â
âWeâre so close to the secret. We just have to wait until it gets darkâ Bea ignored Neroâs protests and stared intently into the forest, trying to work up her own courage.
When she looked back at the road, she was alone.
Bea wasnât ready to give up, even if Nero was. Tentatively, she took her first steps beneath the intimidating canopy dripping with a scattering of faint lights. The forest felt alive, as if the ground were crawling and shifting beneath her feet. The urge to run pressed heavily against her heart, but she persisted. Her weapon tight between sticky palms, Bea approached the glowing orbs with silent vigilance. It was now or never. Taking a deep breath, she pulled back and with as much strength as she could manage, swung her weapon in a wide arc releasing all her fear and apprehension into the offending light.
The orb exploded and darkness poured out. Shadows fluttered around her, rising, sinking, and twisting into menacing clouds and monstrous shapes. Overwhelmed with the cacophony that followed, Bea plummeted to the ground, her hand landing on the sharp edge of the shattered orb. She dislodged it from the dense ivy and stumbled back onto the path, carrying her prize as she raced for the fence. Encumbered by its weight, Bea lost her balance and faltered in the grass.
When she looked up, she wasnât alone.
A dark silhouette loomed above. Her breath caught in a scream.
âYouâre⌠Youâre The Monarch!â
The silence hung ominously between them as Bea fought to regain her senses. When he finally stepped into the light, he looked more confused than fearsome. His moth-eaten clothes matched a weathered frown as he leaned on his cane to get a better look at her.
âIâm certainly not a Monarchâ He laughed. âBut this is a monarch farm, if thatâs what you mean. This particular forest is our moth harvest. What are they teaching you kids these days?â He reached for her fallen backpack and picked off a large moth, extending his hand into the air and releasing it.
âA farm?â Bea squealed, as she watched the moth drift into the trees, merging with thousands of wings overhead.
âBut the Elders told us not to come here.â She exclaimed. The farmer chuckled softly at her words, shaking his head.
âNo wonder they donât want you up here, these are delicacies best kept for holidays.â He picked up her weapon, handing it back to her with a wink. âYouâll need this. Go ahead and catch a few for your family. They taste great in a pie.â
Bea clutched the pole of her net pulling herself to her feet.
âBut this is the great secret? The ultimate source?â She almost felt disappointed before realizing that taking a few of these treasures would be more than enough proof to show all the kids at school. This was way better than bringing back a piece of the light.
âYouâve heard it called the great source eh? Itâs because bugs like these that we harvest and eat keep our land fertile and unspoiled.â The old farmer shuffled towards one of the glowing orbs, running his gnarled fingers along its edge with pride.
âEfficient and resourcefulâ He mused to himself. âThis here is the good stuff.â Bea followed him down the path, her eyes wide with wonder at the fluttering spectacle above.
When they reached the edge of the farm, he stopped to gesture at the vast horizon, the radiant honeycomb cities lit up like lanterns submerged within the undulating landscape. Bea remembered something her teacher had mentioned, beginning to understand.
âI canât imagine a world where people would eat animals instead. I love bugs.â
âThatâs right.â He encouraged. âWho knew all the big problems could be solved with something so small?â