The Secrets of Lore Seymour

66. Back to You

Seren P.O.V.

Warning: Mature content. Please keep comments respectful.

I lay awake through the night aware that Cyan does the same. I hear his occasional deep intake of breath. He must hear my own. I wish I could calm myself, but the memories take me down a raging river that rarely relents.

What happened with Lore--the kiss--then speaking to Cyan, it's too much. It's too much that every passing moment I find myself leaning further and further away from what has been such a sturdy foundation in my life; the church. It's as if I thought I built myself a forever home only to discover the ground has grown soggy. The floors creak and walls crack until windows shatter and the roof caves in around me. I breathe in debris that burns my lungs, uncertain if I wish to fall into the depths with the home or claw my way out, unaware of what awaits me afterwards.

When day breaks, Cyan rises wordlessly. He's ready for the day before Draven arrives. I'm brushing my teeth in the bathroom when the butler knocks. It's time for breakfast. A refusal rests on my tongue until Cyan peeks into the bathroom from the slightly ajar door.

"Don't skip breakfast," he says as if he can read my thoughts, or it's because he had the same urge but knew better. "We reach Vexsis today. We should keep up our strength, just in case."

He's right. If I were in my right mind, I'd have immediately thought the same. I wouldn't hesitate to agree. Cyan waits for my response that comes in the form of a slow nod. He leaves. I follow shortly afterwards, dressed in the same suit from yesterday. I'm almost tempted to step into my shared room with Lore to get a change of clothes. Wearing this suit reminds me of the kiss. There's the faintest scent of alcohol. But when I catch Lore's gaze as he stands outside our room, I walk past him, beyond relieved that he doesn't utter a word.

Conversation passes between Lore, Cyan, and Draven throughout breakfast. I catch very brief moments where they discuss Vexsis. Though I know I should be listening with rapt attention--we are about to enter the worst place someone like me could ever go--I can't quite grasp reality. There's thoughts from last night. I still taste Lore. I still feel his heat. I hear his sharp intake of breath, see his lustrous blue eyes that ensnared me the moment I gazed upon them. Then I look to my side and see Lore here, now, the width of his shoulders and long black hair all draped over his form to show off his brilliant profile. When my staring is caught, he offers a devilish wink that has me pushing away from the table.

Lore grasps my wrist. "We're meant to stay toge--"

"I can take care of myself," I interject, ripping my hand free before I make a horrible mistake, like kissing him again.

He doesn't argue. I wouldn't have stayed if he had an argument to give. I move through the halls to the observation deck above protected by a glass dome that allows everyone to peer through the clouds to the looming crimson tear in the sky.

The Gateway is more than I could have ever imagined. Even while plainly visible from the capital, the distance never let me truly understand the grandeur. It rips across the sky like a bloodied scar. Crimson mists seeps around the black edges that glimmer like starlight. Within, the red moves like stirred wine. The captain speaks over the intercom, informing everyone that we'll be passing through in a few minutes and to either take a seat or hold on to something. Apparently, passing through can cause one to go a bit dizzy.

I grip the railing along the dome, one of many passengers watching the Gateway grow closer until red fills our vision. When the airship pushes through, the fog encapsulates us in a sea of crimson that darkens into an ebony sky of starlight, as if we can see the space we're moving between. In another flash of red, we breach the other side to peer upon rolling fields tinted blue from the sun. I didn't expect that, although I guess it's the moon that is known to be red in Vexsis. Far in the distance, I catch soft glints of shimmering white; likely the capital city.