Thousands of years ago a war broke out on a distant island, splitting its occupants into factions. Alifero, Cornucopia, Querencia and Aranea. The tension between them that has been unyielding for centuries only grows when their precious water starts...
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From where the moon sits in the sky, I guess that it is around midnight. I climb onto my elevator and start to heave myself up with the rope to the front door. The well-oiled hinges make no sound, but that didn't stop my heart from thumping in my chest.
This feeling was more than a little familiar to me. The cool, humid, Aliferian air clinging to my body, the grip of my jacket tied around my waist because it has become too warm to wear it, and my wings droopy with tiredness. Tonight I would have no rest as I trekked back to Querencia, through the foothills until I found Tommy's bedraggled abode.
As usual, the house is dead quiet and all the lights were out. I take off my shoes, so as not to make a sound, and cringe as I push open the door. It doesn't betray me and stays quiet. I close it slowly behind me and exhale, the hard part of sneaking in completed. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. My body relaxes as I pass the doorway to the parlour room.
A light flicks on. All of my muscles clench and freeze, and my pulse kicks into a new gear.
The parlour lamp just flicked on. I feel the light shining through the doorway behind me.
I'm so fucking done for.
Although everything in my body screamed for me not to, I knew I'd be in deeper shit if I didn't turn around and go into the room. My shoes grow slippery in my fingers as my hands sweat and my mouth goes dry. Each step feels as though I'm walking on knives.
Amélie sits, fully clothed in a sleeved blouse and swishy skirt, on one of the fancy couches in the parlour room, her thumb poised over the lamp switch in her palm. She looked livid, but there was something else I couldn't place too.
"What are you doing up?" the question would be casual if not for the venom in her tone. I open my mouth to lie, but no words come to me. This looked so bad. I am dressed in clothes Amélie has never seen before and nor would approve of, with dishevelled hair and a flushed face from drinking, I'm sure if she got close enough she would smell alcohol too.
"Where the fuck have you been all night, and every other night for the past week?" I flinch. I've never heard Amélie swear before. Even if she was speaking quietly, she may as well have been screeching at me.
A little bubble of relief filled my chest. She thinks it's only been a week. Still, I cannot answer her. No words come to my mind, or my mouth.
