Page 114 of Of Wind and Terror

Wait…the sky?

How can I see the sky?

Where is the ceiling?

The world continues to fall down around me as I give in to the persistent tugging of unconsciousness.

Darkness claims me.

44

KASSANDRA

I’m standing on my platform, but this time, there isn’t anybody else with me.

What did they call it? My soul?

Am I standing on my Gaiadamn soul?

The landscape seems to be divided into four sectors. One quarter features a tall tree with orange, red, yellow, and brown leaves. The grass beneath it is brittle, the color alternating between green and brown as if it can’t quite decide which one it wants to settle on.

The second quarter is a winter paradise, with fresh snow on the ground—so white I can see my reflection on the surface—and the same tree as before, but this one is devoid of leaves. Its branches hang lifeless and skeletal.

The third section is covered in tulips. Red, orange, yellow, and even pink. They surround a large tree—the same tree—decorated in bright-green leaves.

The final quarter features perfectly manicured grass and a large tree.

The same damn tree.

It’s almost as if the universe is trying to depict the same area during the different seasons.

Both the moon and the sun hang suspended in the sky, their lights intertwining like long-lost lovers to bathe the landscape in a golden glow. Half the sky is a bright, cheerful blue, while the other is pitch-black.

Despite the varying weathers and temperatures, I don’t feel cold or hot. My feet are bare, but I’m able to stand in the snow with no pain. Able to turn my face up towards the sun without feeling the sweltering heat.

“My daughter.” The lyrical voice carries on the wind. It seems to envelop me in a cocoon of warmth.

“Gaia,” I whisper…and then immediately clamp my lips together when I realize I spoke.

I spoke.

That has only ever happened during my dreams with Raven.

“I’m so sorry this is happening to you, my daughter,” Gaia continues in her sweet, musical voice.

“What’s going on? Where am I? What’s happening?” Unease prickles along the back of my neck.

“You were meant to be the savior, but I’m terrified we just made a weapon instead,” Gaia says. “You were given many mates to help you through this journey, but it may not be enough. Nothing I do will be enough to fix this.”

Normally when I speak to her, she sounds…impassive. Ethereal. Almost bored. But just now, there’s a slight quivering in her voice, hinting at her fear.

Why does a goddess feel fear? What could’ve possibly caused it?

“I don’t know what you mean.” I spin in a mad circle, searching for her, though I know my efforts will be futile.

I have never seen her before, and I doubt I ever will. She’s as evasive as the moon sprinting from the sun.

“I know your elf told you how we came to be.” A wind dances across my face, and I can’t help but equate it to fingers caressing my cheek. Goose bumps rise on both of my arms at the eerie sensation.

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