White.
All I see is the white.
Cold white flames fall down from the sky around me as I sail down.
Down the river in told leads to the death place of creation.
Celeste.
Stories of her still are told 600 cycles later.
I have always found it curious how she died.
An arrow through the heart would never kill an immortal unless another immortal shot it.
And there is only one other immortal.
The only one who truly know how she died.
Me.
YOU ARE READING
The Chronicals Of Destruction(Book 1):Fall of The Stars and Moon
FantasyElements. They make up the world as we know it. Water,wind,sky, earth,warmth,flame,lightning, Creation itself. We don't speak of destruction. Destruction is the one thing that slowly corrupts us all. I learned that long ago.
