Emile and Blood left, ducking underneath the small door frame and exiting into the hall. Following Blood, they traveled up a small staircase and arrived in the main hall.
Just like before, countless foxes scurried around them. Emile stood out from the crowd, a giant amongst children.
His stature towered over the foxes, reaching the height of three of them combined. Meanwhile, Blood, who stood in front of Emile and directed him through the crowds, blended in with the shorter population.
Unfortunately for Blood, no matter how fast he pushed past the furry bodies he couldn't escape them all. The moment they entered the crowd, eyes pulled their way, ears perked up, and noses rose skyward.
"Hi!"
"Hello!"
"Who are you?"
"Hi!"
Waves of foxes approached Emile, all of them blissfully staring up at him. They crowded around and greeted him incessantly, it must have been a long time since the natives had guests.
Blood approached the front desk, a hollowed out trunk of a massive tree, and spoke to the fox sitting behind it. The two exchanged a few short words before Blood nodded his head and turned and left.
He looked above the crowd of foxes and made eye contact with Emile. Using his eyes, he glanced towards the back corner of the room.
Emile understood and jumped into the air. He grabbed hold of one of the bridges built above him and climbed his way above the foxes.
Below, the foxes watched in mesmerized awe.
Reaching the corner of the hall, Emile dropped and landed beside Blood. Blood pulled the door open, a non inviting door, basic and simple, adorned with no more than a handle and a simple sign that read 'Gardens.'
Surprisingly, the door led to a descending staircase. Emile had been wondering where the gardens were located, if they were built above ground or perhaps somewhere with access to the clear sky.
But instead, the two boys descended even further. And even though they contributed to move deeper underground, there was no lack of light within the tunnel.
Criss-cross along the walls, blindingly bright orbs of light rested on hollowed out chunks of stone. The orbs of light radiated a bright white, subtly yellow light.
For some strange reason, the orbs were too bright to look at directly, but when viewed through the peripheral the light seemed to mellow and soften for the eyes.
At the bottom of the staircase erected a second door, this one much more flashy than the first: constructed of the same reflective silver as the wall in the canyon, the six-starred emblem lay in the center of the door.
Above the emblem, a small rectangle was cut into the door. The moment Blood approached the door's handle, the rectangle slid open and a pair of dark brown eyes rummaged through the boy's appearance.
"Who are you?" A heavily congested and scratchy voice asked.
Blood and Emile looked at each other, although no words were exchanged, the two communicated flawlessly:
"Are you gonna reply?" Blood's eyes asked.
"I thought you were taking the lead," Emile's eyes responded.
"For real?" Blood's eyes rolled.
"Gonna cry?" Emile's eye's pouted.
"We're just here for the gardens —" Blood replied to the fox on the other side, "Skipper said it was a public space so we'd thought we'd check it out."
"Hmph," the fox slid the rectangle shut just before a click could be heard resonating through the door.
The door panned in, revealing an older brown fox with wisps of gray strands strewn in his fur coat. He wore dark gray, baggy overalls that were covered in dirt and mud.
Before even entering the room, a wave of fresh air crashed into the two boys. A sweet scent danced around their noses and a mild buzz traveled through the air.
Looking at the fox more closely, seeds were smeared across his overalls and tangled in his fur. He wore a muddied eyepatch that covered his left eye and puffed a hand rolled cigar caught between his lips.
Pulling the cigar from his mouth, he blew a cloud of nutty smoke in the boy's direction and, without saying anything else, turned and left.
With the door wide open, Emile and Blood entered the gardens. From the door onwards, the ground changed from cold, hard stone to soft, nutrient rich soil.
Much like the descending tunnel, the illuminating orbs ignited the garden. They were adorned on the walls, hung from the ceilings, and were even placed in the streams of water that divided the patches of flora.
Speaking of the flora, the gardens were huge, far greater than the storage room Jazz maintained back in the Fallen Sky kingdom. High ceilings and an open floor plan, the gardens were a perfect rectangle and the door sat in the center.
To each side, a hundred or so feet of open space revealed itself. Bordering the walls of the garden, a stream of water coursed through the room that encircled the entirety of the space.
It flowed multi-directionally, as the stream of water pivoted off the main stream and surged between long rows of crops and flowers.
The garden was organized very simply. On the left, trees of varying scales protruded from the ground. Each was distanced equally between the next, but only one of each type stood tall: one produced small red fruit, one larger yellow ovals, the next a light blue cone topped with a cream colored, crescent nut.
Beside the trees, across a stream of water, tall spires erupted into the air and towered above the trees. Like bamboo, the stocks of life stood straight and alone, but unlike bamboo, they were a bleached orange color and instead of leaves, large orbs hung from them like coconuts, but the orbs were lavender in color and smooth as ice.
Next, across another stream of water, large bushes stretched across the break and hovered above the water. The bushes lacked any fruit or nuts, at least from what Emile could tell; instead they were covered in thin, white strands that wrapped around the bushes in their entirety, presenting them like gifts to their cultivator.
The next row of flora, this one marking the center of the room, was filled with flowers of various sizes and species. A white sunflower whose petals glowed baby blue, a single, towering stem that matched the height of the orange bamboo, but provided support for only a single flower bud.
A flower that resembled a classic cactus, but the cactus was vibrant yellow and from its multiple branches protruded a single flower. The flower resembled a lily, but its bowl shape was pointed down and from it a liquid periodically dripped into the stream of water below.
From there, the rest of the gardens were filled with various crops. One, presumably, vegetable resembled a purple pumpkin. The other a banana, but fully complete; as in, instead of a semicircle shape, a whole yellow ring grew from the ground and stood up, like tires on the ground.
Taking it all in, Emile's emotions ran rampant. On the one hand, he was livid having found seeds of any sort, even more so for the trees. On the other hand, he didn't recognize any of the plants.
Not a single one of them had been collected by the kingdom of Fallen Sky so Emile had no clue what any of them did. Since this was a public garden, and since the foxes lived in dire secrecy, the odds of them cultivating any dangerous plants were null.
Emile carefully ran his eyes over every single individual plant and he could pick out the use for each of them. The fruit and vegetables were self explanatory.
The odd, wrapped in white string bush was probably a silk alternative and the flowers most likely contributed to not only the scent of their abode, but could be used in teas and herbal medicines.
There wasn't a single plant in the garden that simply existed, that didn't produce any nut or fruit that could be utilized in the greater community.
That really wasn't an issue though, Emile was more than happy with anything. Even the useless seeds could be used as a distraction or for simple entertainment, it's important to remember their whole plain is deserted, lacking even the most minuscule amount of life.
With these plants alone, if he wanted, Emile could travel around the world and grow it all back. He could become the King of plants, the King of clean air, the roaming agriculture practitioner.
Returning to his senses, only a moment had passed, and a low grunt pulled Emile's attention elsewhere. In the corner of the garden, standing below one of the fruit trees, the old fox had his paws wrapped around some unknown root.
He pulled with all his might, leaning back and grunting while he poured his strength into his grip. Finally, the root snapped and the fox flew back, tripping on the trunk of a tree and falling into the stream of water.
Before he hit the water, he spit his cigar into the air and caught it with his paw. His back hit the water, then his head submerged along with it.
Held above the air, though, was the cigar, still lit and caught between the paw of the old fox. He stepped out of the water and rubbed his lips, drying them before another puff.
"Are you okay?" Emile asked.
The old fox side eyed Emile, his expression neither happy that the boy spoke to him nor particularly disturbed.
"Can't you see?" His gruff voice echoed throughout the garden, he took another puff and held it in his lungs, "Still lit."
Emile smiled and scratched the back of his head. He really needed to have a conversation with this fox. He didn't know of any rules or procedures for the garden, he wasn't told anything, and he was positive Blood didn't know anything.
He needed to ask the fox what everything was and what it did. Not only that, Emile couldn't just walk around and start harvesting all of this fox's plants. He needed to ask what, if anything, he could take in the first place.
But the fox refused to engage in any conversation with more than a few syllables.
"I'm Spright, by the way. I don't believe I got the chance to make your acquaintance," Emile held his hand forward and stretched his smile wide, trying his best to appease the old fox.
The fox looked at Emile. Although he didn't have distinct eyebrows, Emile could tell one was raised above the other.
He pulled the cigar from his lips, "Chalk."
Then, he turned around and continued working on the root lodged in the dirt, completely ignoring Emile's attempt at a handshake.
'Chalk?' Emile thought to himself, frozen, still waiting for his handshake to be graciously and warmly accepted.