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.
SAVORING THE WARMTH of the sun on my back that came in through the opened window, I gulped down the rest of my orange juice. Last night I hadn't been able to sleep even though the thought of having my parents sleeping in the room next to mine had brought me a sense of comfort. I'd been tossing and turning, sporadically walking around the house like some ancient spirit that haunted it and fed off its creaks in the floors. So when the morning light reached my bedroom's window, I'd been more than grateful to let it come in.
Now seated in the kitchen, I still wondered how I could be so full of energy when I'd barely gotten two hours of sleep. Maybe it was the constant need to be thinking about the future that had me unable to settle down even for half an hour. Maybe it was me being overdramatic, but whatever it was I couldn't stand still, not even for a second.
"I'm going to meet Josh," I announced to my mom, who was lunged in the armchair next to me, taking breakfast.
Standing up, I put a dark green coat over my black outfit and watched my mother adjusting the folds of her dressing gown. She waved a hand, beckoning me to further explain my plan.
"I sent him a letter earlier this morning to meet me in the Forest of Traitors in about an hour," I said, running a hand through my braided hair. "I'm already late."
Today, I would meet Josh after months. After that, I didn't know what I would do. I still hadn't decided when my last day here would be. I would think of that later.
"No, Velian. Are you out of your mind?" she almost screamed and ran after me.
But I'd already walked out the door.
🔱
The wind ripped some strands of hair from my braid and lashed them across my face as I walked down the central road of the city. For the first time in ages I wasn't annoyed by that. In comparison to the pouring rain of the Gap World, everything else seemed unworthy of complaining about. And how could even I be irritated with a sudden gust of wind when the sky was painted the lightest shade of blue, even though winter was right around the corner?
The few cafés were already brimming with people around my age and older, drinking warm beverages, talking and laughing. From here I could see ships sailing northward, toward lands I'd never visited, and I probably never would. If I'd never been to the Gap World, I would now be heading to some ballet lesson, running to get there in time, wishing I would never have to go there again.
But now I wasn't running. In fact, my pace was slower than ever, my breathing steady, and my stare focused on the horizon ahead as I took the road that would lead me faster to the Forest of Traitors.
The tiring murmuring of the morning crowd dimmed when I reached the suburbs, the place everyone ignored and tried to avoid in the daylight but loved to visit after the moon had made its appearance in the night sky. A few inns, taverns and brothels were still open, since their last costumers had probably left about an hour ago and the employees were left to deal with the mess the drunkards had created.
