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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WHEN I WOKE UP, Denfer was gone and the snow had melted away, letting raindrops replace the snowflakes. Everything seemed to have gone back to normal. Last night's mayhem had ended the moment I'd gone back to sleep and I'd been immersed into a long, dreamless sleep.Whatever had kindled my magic yesterday had now vanished and the bewildering but familiar feeling of having nothing to do here had now returned. Everything was back to normal. With only one exception.
All the letters I'd written to my parents about my days here, about my feelings and everything that had crossed my mind had disappeared from my bedroom's desk. At the realization of the amount of vulnerability those letters held in their words and the stifled emotions they enclosed in their long sentences, it was an effort to stay calm and untouched by the fact that they were gone. I'd searched in every corner of my room: inside the closet, under the bed, into the drawers, everywhere. And still, they were nowhere to be found.
Panic had filled every part of my heart at the thought that Denfer was the only one who had entered my bedroom and may have possibly taken them away. I was almost mad at myself for trusting him enough to let him sleep here. What kind of midnight weakness had made me so desperate for someone's company to topple every ounce of logic inside me?
Putting a sequin jacket over my plain black dress, I was ready to go downstairs to have breakfast and find answers, when a letter under my bedroom's door caught my attention. The envelope was dark purple and was sealed with a golden stamp that had the word Denfer engraved on it.
Taking it in my hands, I opened the envelope with swift movements, paying little attention to anything else but the small note that had been placed inside it.
I delivered the letters to your parents. I didn't read them, don't worry. Only the first sentence. Consider it a way to say thank you for yesterday.
I sighed in relief as the realization that he'd only read the first sentence sank in. Considering that in the first sentence I always used to address my parents and nothing more, what he'd done was harmless. A part of me, the part that was still haunted by Lantra's secretiveness, didn't want to believe him and the fact that he hadn't read every word I'd written. I should be cautious, always one step ahead of the others, being ready for the worst-case scenario. But another part of me, one that was ruled not by my mind but my intuition, told me to let it go.
Whether he'd read them or not, they had been sent to my parents and that was something to be cherished. And even if he hadn't sent them, I hadn't written something so valuable in them, only embarrassing feelings and moments of weakness.
Taking a breath, my heart still pounding in my chest but not in the same intense way as before, I headed to the kitchen. And even though I took my breakfast in silence since everyone was gone, I found it hard to sit inwards for one more day. So I went out for a run in the misty city. And when I returned to the castle, no one was here but the sentinels to whom I talked about my day. They told me about theirs, too. That heavy feeling of agony that had followed me since I'd left Lantra behind had started to slacken and I prayed to the clouded sky that this calmness wasn't fleeting, easy to be taken away by the next thunderstorm.
