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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I HADN'T BOTHERED WITH FAREWELLS.
The Castle of Sunlight, on the highest hill of the Gap World and amidst forests of oak trees, looked like the mausoleum of forgotten gods and prophets. Painted the color of luxury and hope, it dared to rattle the unceasing rain and the ongoing thunderstorms. It dared to send a warning and a reminder to the clouded sky that it wouldn't manage to stay that way forever—gray and miserable. I only hoped I could see its golden walls when the sky had turned to blue again.
Past the castle we were walking, searching for the ocean and the lighthouse, the place where Denfer could easily open a portal to Lantra. With my already filled with mud boots, I toed the gravels that crowded our pathway, my head lowered to the ground since I couldn't stand looking around, looking at what I would leave behind. Denfer was also silent, as if he'd somehow sensed my unwillingness to talk.
The smell of rain and dampened grass filled my nostrils and I fought back the tears that threatened to abandon my eyes.
The Land of Greatness was long behind us. A hidden treasure in the madness the Gap World was. Not visible from every direction like the Castle of Sunlight, not craving attention. A refuge and an oasis at the same time. I'd miss that place, even if I hadn't explored all of it; even if I hadn't gotten the chance to fly on a Nefern; to meet the greatest magic-wielders of history and get a taste of what it meant to be one of them.
Even the caw of the ravens that flew in pairs above us felt like a bittersweet farewell.
I didn't know if the wind was cold or I was freezing because of the terror, the anticipation and the dread. I couldn't fail them; I couldn't let them down. My decision was reckless, I knew it. But it was right.
A combination of nostalgia and determination slowly made its way into my heart as we reached our destination. We were here.
I felt Denfer stiffening next to me. The image of him standing here a few weeks ago, encouraging his people after the blast flashed through my eyes. A chill ran down my spine at the memory. I chose to focus on the ocean instead, which was calm despite the roaring wind, dark blue but peaceful. Exactly like that night. As for us, dressed in our finest clothes, we could not be compared in the slightest to the way we'd been looking that night.
The purple cloak I'd put over my gray dress was covered in golden strands in the shape of flowers while a pair of combat boots finished the look. Denfer standing next to me had opted for a plaid green coat over his total black outfit.
"You didn't give me enough time to prepare my speech," Denfer said, while surveying the place and the lighthouse, then the sky and the ocean.
I hadn't even given him enough time to process what was about to happen. While we'd been taking our breakfast in bed—because, yes, we had both been too lazy to go downstairs—I'd announced him my decision. He'd almost lost his color. Yet after he'd taken a minute of silence and contemplation, he'd nodded in approval, not showing any sign of agony or fear—something I'd highly valued since I'd been, and still was, in enough fear myself.
