White Orchids {BOOK 1 COMPLETED}

Chapter 26

The gate to Arkaros is made of stone, broader and thicker than the others. Hundreds of symbols are ingrained into its surface. The last time I was here I tried to figure out what they meant. I don't think I've ever seen them, not in the living world nor here.

Sun is already standing in front of the small stairs.

"There you are, I was wondering if you decided not to come."

"I'm here now."

"That you are," she says and climbs the five stairs that leads to the ancient gate. "If you plan on visiting Arkaros this is the only way. All the others are closed."

She gently lays a hand against the gate and runs it down the symbols.

"I cannot use my own gate stone?" I ask.

The symbols start glowing in a jade color.

"No." she removes her hand from the gate. "Like I said, all ways – from and to Arkaros – are closed off. They closed them about a hundred years ago, to make sure that uninvited guests stay out of the sky's city."

Sun opens the door and we're met with a beautiful, shining light. It moves around the same way the darkness does in the other gates, it makes me forget everything I was going to say. Sun must have seen it hundreds of times. She simply turns to me with a smile and says something about my mouth being open, before I can gather my thoughts and say something that wouldn't be flabbergasted mumbling, she steps through the light. I remain in the corridor for a few seconds of awe. I close my mouth and follow.

Sun stands on the other side and behind her is a long white bridge that stretches out over the sky towards the gigantic gates, behind lies a city surrounded by tall walls. From where I stand, I can see a few towers peek up from inside of the city. The other thing I notice is that the Arkaros' walls are surrounded by another well. It doesn't look like the one in the Eleven or the Oak, but it has more similarities with the Eleven. Yet, there's no tower and the well itself is embracing the walls, it never reaches the bridge but end a few meters away from it on each side, like an open circle. The liquid isn't running down from above the sky nor is it coming from inside of the walls, it spills over the edge of the circle and falls down below the floating city – and continues downwards, beyond the clouds. Both the Oak and the Eleven has doors, but here I cannot see a single one.

We're standing on a platform with eight doorways, one for each guardian and the eight one is likely for the creatures. They have no doors and are all showing the same dark whirling I've gotten used to. The one I came out of has a floating symbol of a chamomile, and it's likely Sun stepped out of the door with the crescent moon that – just like the chamomile – is floating a few centimeters above the doorway.

If I had seen a painting or a photograph of this place, I'd say that this is how I'd imagine heaven. But we're not in heaven. We're in the Realm of the Dead. Most of the religions I'm aware of has always depicted it in darkness and underground. Here we're high up above the clouds with sunlight, not at all the same gloomy and dark place that it usually is depicted as.

I have to convince myself that this place isn't terrifyingly beautiful, that it's not the core of the Realm of the Dead, or the capital as Cerberus had explained it.

Sun is standing at the end of the stairs waiting.

"You look impressed."

I had likely not gone into the city myself if Sun hadn't brought me with her, I would have gone back and pretended shapeshifting wasn't an option. It feels like the city will devour me whole if I even put a toe behind the gigantic gates.