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.
Taking a step toward the ocean, I wished I could somehow learn how many days, weeks or even months I needed to stay in Hell to find that thing that would give Denfer his new kingdom. I wished I knew only because I wanted to count the days until everything was over, until a whole kingdom wasn't depending on me. But something like that couldn't happen.
So, instead, I chuckled at Denfer's desire to give a speech and said, "Just tell me something motivational but comforting at the same time. Don't tell me that you know I'm going to make it because . . . because I'm already afraid of failing and I don't want to be afraid of disappointing you, as well."
Angling my head to the side, I met the stare of a king being ready to fight next to his people the final battle, ready to win the war against all odds. With his palms in the pockets of his coat, the wind and the rain plastering his hair to his head, he looked exactly like the night I'd first met him. I still remembered the way we'd looked at each other. Me, like I'd found the destined king in a land full of self-declared lords. And him, like he'd found color even though the world was black and white. And maybe he had.
The lighthouse was made of stones that were painted deep green and tinted with sparkles that looked like silver moonbeams. Breathing in the smell of saltwater, I tried to imagine a life in the new kingdom with my parents by my side. A dream unworthy of them. They deserved Heaven.
Denfer slid a hand through his wet hair, then focused his stare on the ocean ahead of us. "I—I want you to know," he began, "that if anything happens, I'll come there and take you back immediately. I don't care about the rules I'll have to break or the cost something like that might have to my magic. I want you to know that whether you succeed or fail, my opinion of you won't change. And . . . And I want you to know that your physical strength won't save you. Your magic won't save you either. Your most powerful weapon is your mind. You know how to control it, you know how it works, you know when you should think of certain things and when you shouldn't. They will try to take that away from you. Do not let them."
The way he'd muttered the last sentence felt like an order I had to obey for my own good. And I would have replied something, having not been distracted by his gentle touch. Interlacing our fingers, he silently urged me to follow him to the ocean.
"Let's go see the sun," Denfer's voice came out joyful and hopeful, but underneath it all there was seriousness lingering in his bronze eyes.
That was it. Maybe I'd return when the sun had returned, as well. I doubted that. Hell's Leader was supposed to rot in Hell, not escape and live in the Gap World.
Turning back to face the capital and the Castle of Sunlight for the last time would have been lyrical of me to do, but goodbyes always had me in tears and there was no place for emotions now. I'd been missing my home and my parents for almost two months. Now that I would meet them again, another part of me would miss the Gap World and its people. In Hell, I would miss my parents and the Gap World. My only defense against the feeling of sadness that was a product of nostalgia and fear of the future was oblivion. Temporary oblivion.
So I sealed my thoughts and feelings in a part of my heart that over the past weeks had turned from deep black to golden and slightly squeezed Denfer's hand, which was warm despite the cold.
"I think it's more like, let's do the sun a favor and let him finally get a glimpse of us," I replied, and Denfer's laughter broke the silence.
After that, like we'd been preparing for that exact moment for centuries, we took a few steps toward the ocean, the water touching our shoes, then our knees, then our hips. And all at once, with synchronized movements and steady breaths, we dove into the cold water.
Letting the ocean bathe my body, I collided with the waves that had suddenly arisen around us, never letting go of Denfer's hand. We swam and swam and swam until my legs felt heavy and my arms useless. When our shoes couldn't reach the bottom of the ocean in the slightest, Denfer let go of my hand. Flexing his fingers in front of him, his stare became distant. He seemed so focused on what he was doing that the rain and the waves and the cold weren't bothering him at all. Blue light illuminated from his fingertips. The king of the ocean. Putting his hands in the ocean again, the water shimmered around us. He didn't even breathe for a few heartbeats. I didn't even know if he was here, if he could feel me next to him.
The water was sparkling around us, and for the first time the waves seemed welcoming. Mystical.
"The portal's ready," Denfer murmured and gripped my wrist again.
That was it. That was the end.
The next moment we were under the surface of the ocean. His hands were wrapped around my body, his face packed up in my hair. Holding my breath, I kept my eyes open. My vision was blurry, but I could still discern the deep blue of the ocean, a strong current dancing around our connected bodies, always together, never separating us. That first time I'd been unconscious, but now I could feel everything. The pressure, the glimmering magic revolving around us.
The portal was blue and white. It looked like the ocean had a mouth and it was ready to swallow us alive.
When I couldn't hold my breath any longer, Denfer led us to the portal. And the moment we passed through it, I could breathe again.
My clothes were dry, and I could breathe. And the raindrops . . . they were nowhere to be found. We were in the place we'd first met.
We were in Lantra, we were at the beach.
🔱
The sun baptized our faces the moment we got to the other side of the portal. Only a few steps away from the bench Denfer had been sitting on the night of the Summer Festival, nothing seemed to have change. Yet everything felt different.
Early in the morning as it was, there was a peaceful quietness around us. Only the sound of horses getting their riders to their destination echoed in the distance. I'd gone to the Gap World when autumn had just started and now it was almost over.
The fallen leaves that packed the road next to the beach were in the shade of burnt orange and in perfect tune with Denfer's eyes. The sky was clear; so clear that I almost smiled as I stared at the sunrise for a little longer, as I watched the colors of dawn blend in with the pale blue of the sky. I'd missed the daylight.
Denfer could be admiring the rising sun, but instead I found him looking at me. His eyes glimmered in the natural light and for a moment, I wished he could see the colors that embellished him; I wished he could take a look around him and see every color and every shade that adorned nature.
"I guess it's time for us to say goodbye," Denfer finally said, his voice so soft that I wasn't sure if he'd actually said that. I hoped he hadn't, because goodbyes were the hardest part of every encounter and I couldn't do it. I didn't want to say goodbye. Not to him. Never.
"What—what do you feel?" I asked, and Denfer blinked, as if he tried to understand what I was talking about.
"What do you feel when you're dying?" I completed my question, the question that had kept me up last night, the question that had me throwing up every time I tried to imagine the answer.
"That was what you were thinking all these days?" he asked, a somber grin on his face.
I nodded.
And even Denfer, who had lived countless decades, who had died and had seen other people dying, stilled next to me.
Taking a deep breath, he said, "To feel something, you have to think. And when you're dying, you can't think of anything but the dread that coils in your gut, the fear of the end."
For a second, he looked away, but then his stare found mine again.
"That fear is so great, so uncontrollable that makes you see the darkness before it actually embraces you. But in your case—" he paused, a glimpse of hope crossing his face, making the shadows disappear. "In your case, you know that death is not the end. Death is immortality. Death is your second chance. You have nothing to be afraid of because you won't disappear, your journey won't end there. And we'll meet again."
"How do you know that?"
His lips turned to a half smile, cunning and wicked, but honest. "I'm the king of the Gap World, Velian. A kingdom equal to Heaven and Hell. I wasn't put in that position out of pure luck. I don't care if you're Hell's Leader or if you're destined to live in Hell forever. If you ever decide that this title isn't meant for you, just say it."
The king of the Gap World, I repeated to myself. A king that was worthy of his kingdom, of his position.
Walking across the beach, I could hear music playing from the cafés that were on the streets one or two blocks away from here. Lantra would have been beautiful if it hadn't been for all the cruel laws against magic, for that unfair system of equality.
"We'll meet again, then," I said when Denfer ran both his hands through his purple hair, staring at the ocean, probably realizing that the time he could stay here was running out.
His tan skin looked deep golden in the morning sunlight. He stopped walking and said, "Before I go, I want to thank you for everything you've done and for everything you're about to do."
I made to stop him because he didn't need to thank me for anything, but he continued. "Thank you for rebuilding yourself by yourself but still accepting help whenever you needed it. Thank you for not drowning everyone else in the darkness you were once immersed in. Thank you for caring about yourself and about everyone else as well. Thank you for yesterday and thank you for every day after today in advance."
There was something brittle in his words, something that told me he'd meant everything he'd said. I could see the vulnerability in his eyes. My heart stumbled at the suspicion that he was so glad I'd made it to the light because he'd witnessed his brother moving further and further away from it, dragging him into the darkness as well.
"Are you the king of speeches, as well?" I joked, and he tipped his head back, laughing.
I didn't tell him that I loved his honesty and humbleness; the way he carried himself with such vulnerability, yet power; the way he noticed everything and therefore appreciated even the smallest victories.
Instead, I wrapped my hands around his body, annihilating the distance between us and held him close until his own hands were around my waist, his head resting on my shoulder. I breathed in his scent, orange and honey blended in the most harmonic way possible. It felt good, it felt right.
A long minute passed, and I was the first one to pull back. I felt the need to say something equal to what he'd said. Something grand and touching, something worthy of him.
But instead, I opted for one line, one line that had crossed my mind last night and had stayed there since then.
"The sun has a name, Denfer," I managed to say when the sight of his eyes sparkling like embers in the morning light made me wish that we had more time together. "And it is yours."
That time he was the first one to envelop me into an embrace. It only lasted a few holy seconds.
Then he smiled at me, walked toward the ocean and dove into it.
That was it. That was the end.
His presence next to me would soon belong to a part of history; a part of history when everything had seemed right and true. I could still feel his pair of glowing eyes on me, his gentle grip connecting our hands. I wondered if he felt the same way.
But that was it. That was the end. And emotions were useless now.
Walking toward the city, my clothes dry and sparkly, almost inappropriate and scandalous for the artistic style of Lantra's people, I didn't bother putting my contact lenses on. Lantra wasn't a place of games of hiding and running away from the truth anymore. I wasn't afraid of my shadow. But everyone else better be. They couldn't kill Hell's Leader. The leader not only of Hell, but of the Gap World as well. A leader who had a whole kingdom on her shoulders but didn't hunch in the slightest. And if they did, they must have a death wish.
At least that was what I kept telling myself in order to feel as fearless as I should be. It didn't fully work. But it was something.
🔱🔱