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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THE NIGHT WAS PURPLE; dressed in mystery and kissed by secrets that even the rain didn't know about their sacred existence; edged with hints of orange for the better understanding I had now of Denfer's way of thinking, acting and loving. Dancing in the big halls of the tower, the transient sensation of intimacy Cloudien's words had created was soon accompanied by the coldness of the murky room I'd just entered. Denfer's room.
The candles were blown out, only one was still burning, and darkness kept company to silence. It seemed despoiled, not compared in the slightest to the room I'd spent the past few days in. The heat the fireplace had been inducing all the previous nights had been replaced by the cold air that came in through the open doors that led to a small balcony. The warm feeling of having someone waiting for me here was also gone. Because now, there was no one here, or at least no one I could detect. And I'd grown used to waiting for the night to come, so that I could find Denfer waiting for me here.
Now the room was empty, like the way my room had always been in the Castle of Sunlight.
Vacillating over whether I should head downstairs and search for Denfer, or stay here and attempt to sleep, I almost missed the shadow of a man that was cast on the wall behind the bed. My heart lost a beat at the realization that I wasn't alone. In the balcony. Someone was in the balcony.
I would have let myself bite my lips and stagger out of the room if I'd listened to the weaker side of me, the one telling me to run away.
My magic danced in my veins for the way fear was about to take over, but I pushed all the thoughts aside and with almost silent steps, I walked deeper into the room, toward the shadow.
And then a voice.
Calm and drowned in melancholy, but it was enough. Because all I needed was the sound of that familiar voice that echoed through the darkened room for me to decide to stay, for my heart to stop thundering. The shadow belonged to Denfer. There was no threat.
"Why?" His question was taken away by the wind, ripped apart by the rain, and I stood there, a few feet away from him, but still close enough to hear him clearly.
I dared a step closer and at that moment I was grateful for the carpeted floor, and the way it absorbed the sound of my boots. Otherwise, he would have been informed about my presence. I dared another step toward the bed, so that I could have a better view of him, and remained still when my eyes finally found him. He was shirtless. In the rain and the cold, he was shirtless.
Scars that snaked along his skin were visible from my position, decorating his shoulders and his back, deep and brutal.
"Do you know how difficult it is?" he shouted to the wind, his voice cracking a little.
Even though I couldn't see his face, I was sure that his eyes were locked in the sky. Resting his hands on the railing, I watched him become one with the pouring rain. It didn't seem to be bothering him at all. Probably he wasn't aware of the raindrops that flowed abundantly on his muscled back or the way some of them looked like crystals on the canvas of pure gold that his skin was. And I was sure that if only I had the chance, I would write something about him and read it every night in Hell as my only way to let this moment last forever. No one else would read it, not even Denfer. But it would be enough to get me through the hardships.
