Anaya: A Dark Voyage [#1 LightBlood Series]

Chapter 10 - When Doves Cry

***

A dove stood on a tree just outside the entrance of the shrine. Its feathers were as white as cotton, new-plucked cotton. It bounced over the trees as if it had strings in those tiny legs. Its constant coos called Anaya's attention.

She stopped, stood still as her eyes followed every movement of the dove and then she saw them. Tears!

"When doves cry, it speaks to the deepest parts of your being and stirs up your emotions. It is a rain song, and a bringer of hope and new beginnings..." the young girl explained interrupting Anaya's fixed gaze on the bed. For a second, she had forgotten she was with someone.

"What does this have to do with anything?" Anaya quizzed.

"There is hope, LightBlood, there is hope for us all."

"LightBl-"

"You must be on your way. The truth awaits." The young girl added before she turned around to leave.

"Thought as much! You are also going to leave me with another puzzle, ain't you?" Anaya was alone by the time she was done. She turned around in defeat towards her car.

***

After a six-hour drive, stopping at a filling station or two on her way, getting stuck in traffic and getting stopped by the police at every checkpoint due to how weird and old her car looked, she was finally in Abikiali.

Now, all she needed was a place to lodge for the night before she could think of the task ahead. A hotel. The best option Anaya could come up with since she knew no one in Abikiali she could lodge with. Just her luck!

She did a quick ask around and finally found one. It was called Emerald Courtyard Hotel and Resort and, as the stranger she asked a few minutes ago had been happy to tell her, it was one of the most luxurious in the whole of Abikiali.

The building was geometrically shaped — hexagonal to be precise — fully surrounded by glass overhanging panels. Such architectural finesse!

It was just as pleasant inside as the outside. The floor was fine marble-tiled which echoed every step. The chandelier at the centre of the lobby was breathtaking and one of the quirks that increased Anaya's love for the place. It hung from the ceiling like something crafted out of the heavens — so majestic and divine. The light bulbs sat in a metal frame covered in handmade Murano glass strings with irregular shapes that made it pleasant to watch.

She walked straight to the reception catching a glimpse of the paintings on the walls and the embroidered silk sofas at the waiting area on her way.

The receptionist, a middle-aged woman, wore a very welcoming smile adding to the warmth the hotel offered. She talked to her and went over all the procedures she needed to book a room.