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...
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BEING CAREFUL with my footsteps, not wanting to trip and fall for one more time, I tried to keep my gaze to the floor. Yet when raindrops came crushing all over my body, I took a step back, finding a steadying hand on my back, not forcing me to keep going but waiting until I decided to move.
When I finally did, I came across a sight that I'd thought could only exist in unbelievable dreams and horrific nightmares. An unending storm, booming thunders and lightning that broke the sky in two.
"It is always raining here." Denfer's voice sounded like a whisper that was designed to be heard only by me. He added, "No sunny days, no snow. We're in the Gap World, in the middle of everything."
The moment I dared a look at the capital that stretched out beneath us, flickering flames were spread in my body, assembling the lightning. Everything seemed so grey, so miserable.
The good thing was that the sky didn't seem so distant from up here. We could very well be part of it, lost somewhere in the storm clouds, finding the source of the rain. My nostrils filled with cold air while raindrops caressed my skin, my clothes, my face. Heavier and heavier, the pouring rain fell upon us. I couldn't recall when had been the last time I'd been outside, remembering what it was to be alive. I shook my head, reminding myself that it didn't matter.
We kept staring at the capital of the Gap World. Endless prairies appeared in my vision, but not a mountaintop, not even a butte. Ιt seemed like only the hill that this castle had been built on could offer to someone the chance to be higher than everyone, to scout the city from a distance and from above. A perfect watchtower.
I looked over the small houses that couldn't be compared to the ones we had in Lantra. From their size to their dull colors, they seemed inferior, somewhere only the slaves of my mother's midnight stories would live.
Even though that balcony felt way too small for both of us, like it wasn't even supposed to be used by anyone, Denfer still managed to place himself in a safe distance from me. Sweeping a fleeting glance at him, I found him resting his palms on the railing, his hair like the first time I'd met him—wet. Raindrops were falling over his forehead, his eyes, his cheeks; raindrops that looked like diamonds on his face.
If Josh had been here, he would have closed his eyes in relaxation, coming up with the perfect lines that would then create the perfect poem. He would have made a point about the way rain was liberating and a blessing I didn't appreciate enough.
Denfer kept his gaze in the sky. "It's exhausting," he said.
I raised an eyebrow, trying to make him further explain his statement. He did.
"Raining every day for centuries is just . . . exhausting."
He didn't flinch when the words escaped his mouth. He didn't tighten. He wasn't reserved to what he was feeling—at least not at that moment. As for me, every muscle of my body was tense, and it was pouring. Falling from the sky, the rain would never wash away my sins. It only reminded me that I would never be clean. From all my hateful thoughts about the people in Lantra to my cold heart, innocence had abandoned me a long time ago.
