Page 141 of A Simple Truth

“I…He…” I stumbled with the words, unsure how to reply to that, because I did selfishly crave to see Gideon, but I had yet to ask him to visit me. “I am not stopping him from coming here,” I countered.

“You and I both know he is giving you space to figure things out without any pressure, otherwise he would have kidnapped you the moment you’d written him back.” Xentar shrugged, putting a few things into a leather bag and throwing it across his shoulder. “Don’t wait up for me. I’ll be out doing things much more exciting than writing letters.” Xentar’s carefree laugh rumbled through the room as he climbed down the ladder, the door closing shut just a second later. At once, I returned to the all-encompassing story.

What do you dream of, Finnleah?Gideon wrote after a while, when the stories and the jokes turned into somber,pondering thoughts and questions as the night began to turn to dawn.

My visions are all over the place. Though some of them are things of nightmares, I also get to see worlds of astounding beauty. Worlds of peculiar creatures and crystal waters.

I meant what doyoudream of. Not your visions. Where do your thoughts wander off to in search of solace and peace?

I paused, thinking on his words.

At first, my mind was blank. There were only ruins left of the small cottage with a white picket fence that I had once dreamed of.

Growing up, I had always dreamt of this little, cozy home with a white picket fence, a garden with a swing, perhaps a dog, a cat, and definitely a few goats. Each night, as my mind slowly drifted to sleep, I dreamt of that life, because that’s what I imagined was the comfort and peace that I was so desperately craving at one time.

My pen hovered over paper as I stared at the written words, as the silent well of dreams opened wide and new dreams poured in bit by bit, silver threads stitching, embroidering something new on an endless canvas.

But I think now…now, I dream of sitting at a large table in my house, looking around and seeing it filled with people I care about, laughing, joking, talking their hearts out. I dream of cozying up with a few of our babies in a large rocking chair by a fireplace on a snowy day, admiring the beauty of the music pouring from a large pianoforte nearby. I dream of the daily comfort of your heartbeat against my ear as it lulls me to sleep. I dream of serenely holding your hand when the world seems loud and overwhelming.

I dream of you, Gideon.

84

FINNLEAH

Ihad fallen asleep sitting up.

My back was now aching terribly as a reminder of that poor choice. I stretched from the crouched position, gradually getting up from the bed. The storm outside had quieted, the plants soaking up all the moisture, turning a potent green as a light fog settled in between the houses.

My eyes darted to the small nightstand near me, then around the room, only to find it empty. My stomach twisted with a tight, painful knot at the sight. Nothing. There was nothing.

My mind scattered all my thoughts in panic, leaving only a lingering feeling of devastation inside.

I waited all night, but Gideon had not replied.

He did not reply.

I told him Idreamedof him, of our future, and got silence as an answer.

My mouth turned dry as I tried not to think about it too long.

Fate’s justice was cruel, but in the end, I got what I deserved.

“We must go,”Aurelia protested as she jumped off the cocoon-like swing hanging from the center of her glass-dome room.

“We can’t, ReyRey,” I objected, leaning back on the beautifully made rocking chair.

“But didn’t you say you wanted to go to the places you saw in your visions? You had one of the Desolate Desert. Wecango there.” She turned to me; her right brow perked up.

“Sure…” I reasoned, watching Aurelia return to the large, brown dresser, pulling out the bottom drawer until it thumped on the floor. She feverishly started throwing out all of the clothes out of it, clearly looking for something specific. “But I’ve been to the Desolate Desert and this place looked slightly different.”

“But it’s not the place, it’s the book that we need, isn’t it? And yousawthe book.” She pulled out what I guessed were the only pair of pants she owned; her lips tugged down with a displeasing frown. “Hello, my nemesis, we meet again.” Her eyes narrowed at the fabric. A second later, she huffed, shoving her thin, long legs into the pants, underneath the dress she was still wearing.

“The thing is, I have a gut feeling that’s the book we’ve been looking for, but I am going off nothing but strong feelings. And those can turn wrong in the blink of an eye.” I swallowed, trying not to let my thoughts linger on the fact that I had yet to hear from Gideon. “Plus, the whole theory about the book of spells was a wild one to begin with.”

“Nah, you said it yourself that the papers Gideon had, seemed copied, too many abbreviations and shortened words. And they had to be copied from somewhere. A book of spells seemed to be the most reasonable answer. People love thedramatic feel of books. It’s simple math.” Aurelia spun around, though clearly hating the pants, she was pleased enough to see her flowy skirts swirl. “Though, I detest math. My dad loves it, and I pretend to like it, so he doesn’t feel sad sometimes. But it’s so-o-o boring. I don’t know how one can enjoy it.”

“Even so…even if our theory is correct, even if there is such a book to exist… I’ve been to the Desolate Desert. And it didn’t look like the place I saw in the vision. The place I saw had red, stone-like mountains, not just sand dunes.”

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