Page 1 of Ronan

Chapter 1

Ronan

Dusky pink melts into a hazy purple, the air waves rippling and rolling like the summer heat off asphalt. Every night, for a few isolated moments, the orange glow of the setting sun filters through the low-floating clouds of the darkening sky, and I can imagine it’s the blood orange sunset of the other side. The light reaches out, stretching its fingers like it’s calling me home.

A nostalgic display just for me.

Dappled, shimmering beams paint over the landscape in shifting shadows, warming my skin and serving as a bittersweet reminder of what we once had.

What we lost.

It’s a phantom touch, a ghost of the real thing that triggers a rapid-fire reel in my mind. Reminders of a life that feels like it belongs to someone else. Vivid as if it were yesterday, yet somehow indistinct—a memory viewed through a window that can never be opened. The sounds and smells of the other side are gone with time, the view forever beyond reach.

Forgotten.

Every day, pieces of my home, my life, are chipped away by time’s insistent chisel.

Decades on this side of the veil, and the muted grays and blues of the sky are still unfamiliar. I don’t think I’ll ever stop missing the electric hues of the grass and how it moved and danced in the wind, or how the triple moons glowed in shades of pink and red among the twinkling backdrop of night.

Stars were more plentiful on that side, millions of tiny fairy lights that glowed in a synced mosaic of universes against a velvet night. Towering trees scraped the sky, their leaves rustling in the balmy air that was always thick with the sweet, almost overwhelming perfume of flowers that no longer exist.

It’s gone.

All of it.

My world… myhome… is now nothing more than a memory, and we have no one to blame but ourselves.

“Feeling nostalgic again?” A heavy sigh pushes from my nose, the sound letting Elas know his presence isn’t welcome. Never one to pick up on hints, he drops beside me and together, we stare out at the dying sun, bleeding its final rays over the land.

“Did you need something, or do you just enjoy hearing yourself speak?” I don’t bother trying to hide my irritation; it isn’t the time for company or sharing.

No, right now, I need to be left alone.

I need to figure this out.

He crosses his enormous legs, the leather of his boots creaking softly, and rests his chin on his palms. Long braids form a curtain of dark hair that obscures his face as he settles into a comfortable slump. “You’re always up here,staring at the divide as if you could single-handedly open it again.” I grunt, not wasting words on a pointless argument, and shift to catch the last bits of otherness billowing through the dimming light. “It’s gone, Ronan.”

“You don’t think I realize that?” My arms cross as my fingers dig pits into my muscles, indenting through the worn leather of my armor.

He shrugs in a slow, deliberate movement, completely unfazed by my rising temper. Perpetually cheerful, Elas has never let my rough edges puncture his softer ones. “Sometimes knowledge clashes with belief.”

I snort, glancing at him out of the corner of my eye. “Aren’t you the scholar tonight?” He grins, but the hint of a smile that had been forming on my face disappears. “I know it’s gone, Elas.”

And how could I not?

I was there the day the impossible happened—when the veil fell away and our worlds collided. The very fabric of our existence was torn right down the middle, revealing what we’d always suspected but had never proven.

Two parallel worlds, existing side by side but never touching.

Until they did.

As if the curtain had been drawn back at a busy theater, there they were—an audience on the other side, watching and waiting for the show to begin. Gateways opened, their passage as simple as stepping through a doorway.

The humans were cautious, choosing to stand guard and inspect, conduct studies and experiments.

Wait, and watch, and learn.

Not us.

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