Death is immortality.
Death is your second chance.
Velian Terrashine belongs to a classless society of equality, art and democracy; a land full of creativity and mindfulness. It is in that perfect political system that one wrong movement, one carele...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
WALKING DOWN the corridors of this enormous castle felt like trying to find the end of some ancient and sacred labyrinth with the only exception that I didn't have to do it by myself. Denfer was next to me, telling me about the different rooms that existed on the second floor of the castle, the history of each furniture and the meaning behind the golden color of the walls. Most of the enormous chambers were libraries and offices, spaces that were designed to be entered only by the royalty, though he'd admitted that he didn't enjoy going there often.
They had all been busy these days, he'd told me. Running around the city, gathering information about whatever important quest they had, planning their next movements carefully. And on top of everything, they also had a country to take care of. Their sources of gold and money were limited and in need of methodical management if they didn't want their people to starve. Only dedicated and disciplined labor would get them through all the obstacles and provide them with welfare, he'd said.
The air in the corridor was tense. The patrolling sentinels saluted Denfer, welcoming him after a long time to the Castle of Sunlight—that was how they called that place. He knew them all by their names and he never lost the chance to introduce me to them, as well.
Velian Terrashine. Nothing more, nothing less. Just my name, not a weapon, not a secret, not part of some deal. Good.
The walls were decorated with a golden tapestry in the darkest shade of the color and little crowns had been carefully designed all over it, giving the idea that we were living in an upcoming kingdom, a well-hidden secret that was about to collide with the truth, shatter the universe, then rebuild it again with new, stronger foundations.
"Your room is not ready yet, so you can take mine for the next few hours," Denfer said when the corridor had ended and the only room that was still left for me to discover stood in front of us.
Judging from the door which wasn't like the ones we'd passed from, fine-carved and well-maintained after all the years that castle had been built, I took a step back, hesitant to follow him into the room. Bone-deep terror filled every part of me for the way that abhorrent and marred wooden door seemed to hold the worst horrors of human history. It looked like someone had tried to break it with their bare hands but had failed; it looked like someone had slid their nails into the wood just to find an outlet for their flaming wrath; it looked like an entrance to some place worse than Hell.
He seemed to notice my reluctance because he angled his head to me, a faint grin on his face as he said, "I promise if I wanted you hurt or dead, I would have let you die four days ago."
The hair on my arms rose even though this place was as warm as my house in Lantra on a winter day with the fireplace to heat up the living room.
So that was how long I'd been asleep. Four days of a dreamless, deep and continuous sleep, wandering in places I couldn't remember, floating in an endless blackness.
