The Life of Gaia

CHAPTER 14: Voyant Yeux

A thunderstorm raged over the city; roars of water rained down from the sky, and clear rivers slid into the grates of manhole covers on the sides of the street. The drops drummed on the gray water, surrounding themselves in concentric circles that disappeared as quickly as they had appeared.

The peace of a pond at the corner of a sidewalk was invaded by a large wooden wheel (it rolled away without even saying goodbye), which it watched as the carriage to which it was attached barely proceeded on the soggy asphalt. It thought that wheel was worse off than it was, so the pond of rainwater returned to be pampered by the drops.

The wheel, on its own, had to pass over many more puddles: each time it murmured its excuses, but the swish of the water was too loud for them to hear it. Besides, it was only a wheel, so how could it talk? Thunder rumbled in the distance.

On the side of the carriage was printed, illuminated by the reflections of light from the water, a well-elaborated coat of arms; it represented an orange shield with a doughnut-like hole in the middle, resting on a comfortable cushion of laurel leaves. The shield jerked and soaked in the tears of the sky as it looked through its empty eye at the houses, stores, workshops and foundries that flowed in front of it.

And just above, leaning rigidly against the glass of the door, was a boy not so different from the shield or the wheel. He had decided that it was worth speaking only the bare minimum, in that world where the roar of rain constantly occupied people's minds; he had realized that with his eyes he could glimpse the most remarkable details of things, and that he could do so despite being soaked and, at times, merely a decorative object. Next to him sat a motionless woman, standing upright like a piece of wood. And between the two fell a downpour.

<<Alexis, close the curtain please, that glass is not insulating and it's getting too cold in here.>> The woman clasped her hands and tightened her mouth. The orange-eyed boy gave no sign of life: to his mother that attitude went to her head.

<<Did you hear what I said? Close that curtain.>>

Alexis pulled back and distractedly tugged at the thin thread that held the piece of fabric closed. The world plunged into darkness for a moment, then a light flashed on the canopy and things regained their form. He thought that at that moment they must be crossing the block of the Clock Tower, and that they should not be more than a few hundred meters away from the Usine Vintage. The carriage turned by itself to the left, making a leap to climb the large archway that arched over the lower part of the city. The boy saw his mother wrinkle her nose in disgust, and he sneered at noticing her predictability: she always told him she hated the smell of the slums. "Lucky for him immensely, we're just passing through," he said to himself with a streak of sarcasm.

Another hop and the woman's relaxation was the signal that they had arrived home. A flash of lightning drew a white halo behind the holes in the curtain, which immediately disappeared; faint thunder followed close behind. Right, left, left, right and straight from there: the wheels followed the path they knew by heart.

<<Tomorrow your father will take you to the factory, right?>> the woman asked.

"Yes," replied the boy firmly. She added nothing, but filled her silence with sighs. The carriage slowed for a few seconds until it came to a halt.

The two figures stepped out of the vehicle, landing in a stream of water flowing toward a manhole, while in the distance a metallic sound of giant gears vibrated through the rain. She ran toward the large doorway of a white-walled house; he turned toward the source of the noise and stood still like that, his soaked hair shining in the light of the street lamps, caught as if by a call. His mother had to call his name a fourth time before he turned toward her and followed her inside.

Before closing the doorway, Alexis turned one last glance at the street fading into gray.

*******

Rain fell on my head even before the vortex around us disappeared...I remember that moment with some excitement. I had never touched water before, and although I knew what rain was, in Deep Reality and Divine Castle I had never seen it. I squeaked in fright and ran under a canopy that had appeared beside me, crouching down to cover my whole body. Zantas chuckled as distant thunder rumbled through the roar of the drops.

"You could have warned me that we would find a deluge when we arrived," I commented through gritted teeth, "I don't like rain."

A dome of whitish energy formed over my head like a small canopy: it was solid, and transparent enough for me to see through. I leaned forward timidly and that followed me; I saw the drops crashing on me and dripping toward the floor.

"...Thank you."

°You're welcome,° he replied.

I looked in front of me, and noticed a metal railing after which the floor stopped; the only space that was not empty was the one where I had taken cover, from which a long flight of stairs descended downward, half covered by an orange door. Dark clouds roared above us: we were on the roof of a building. At one particular point, hidden by the gray patina of water, came a cadenced, complex, percussion-like noise. A large black shadow showed that there must have been a mammoth building there.

°That one over there, although you can't see it, is the Usine Vintage. The place I told you about.° Yes, I remembered his words: it was a factory or something like that. The next morning we were going to go there to look for the soul of Aries (Zantas said it was the hub of the whole city, and we would definitely have a chance there).

I don't know why, but as I looked at its silhouette, I felt a strange sensation, as if I had sensed my sister. I looked around, and I had confirmation that we were alone on the roof. Then I remembered a phrase that, for some reason, I knew: to love is not to look at each other, but to look in the same direction. A smile of expectation popped up on my lips, and I turned to Zantas, who meanwhile was watching the sky.

"I think that's the right way," I told him. He turned circumspectly and, when he saw me smile, came fluttering closer.

°Tomorrow we will find out if you are right.°

Then, with a nod, the dome on my head grew larger by the minute, sank into the concrete at our feet and warmed up. The flying sign lay on the ground and closed its one eye. I placed the palm of one hand on the floor and imitated him, curling up beside him; I knew well that he would not really fall asleep, but what did I care?

We spent the night in that shelter.