thunderstruck | book #2 | discontinued

X V

A sense of nostalgia washed over Remy along with the rain. Here she was again, stood in the same alley she had when she had first met Maksim, the same alley she had when he had left her. She allowed a moment for the pain of the latter memory to subside, trying to block out his words, his voice, though they were as clear as if he was stood beside her.

Goodbye, my little mortal girl.

It had not occurred to her before just how hard it would be to come back here. It had not occurred to her that these memories she had would feel so much realer here, so much more as though they had a life to them that was capable of clawing Remy from the inside out until she was hollow, like a pumpkin in the middle of being carved out.

It had not occurred to her that she would want to scream until her voice disappeared.

She took a breath and looked at her watch. Somehow, she had still made it with a minute to spare. Then the doubt crept in and she wondered if she had imagined it all. She had heard of people wanting something so much that they hallucinated. Had the letter been real? It had burned, dissolved into ashes, before she could read it twice.  

She felt for the key in her back pocket for confirmation. It was still there.

As though it had heard her uncertainty, a green glow began to spread over the dull brick wall, swirling and bubbling like a witch's cauldron with its overflowing contents. The key grew hot, burning through the denim of Remy's jeans and tingling against her skin.

She hesitated for only a moment. If she was not back by tomorrow afternoon at the latest, she would have to put her family through pain and loss all over again. What type of person did that make her?

She closed her eyes and inched closer, feeling the wind from the portal snake through the loose waves of her hair, inhaling the familiar scent of burnt metal. A couple of days ago, she never thought she would feel magic like this so close to her again.

She had to go through. There had never truly been another option.

She felt the last few raindrops hit her face as she lifted her head to the sky and took another step, and then everything was cold and hot, dark and light, strange yet completely habitual. She did not feel as though she was falling as she had the first time; she felt as though she was flying, as though the light was carrying her and would not betray her again.

Even so, when the emerald rays merged into pink sky and rich, brown soil, she still landed ungracefully on her behind. This time, she managed it without harming herself, at least, though the landing reminded her of all of the bruises still staining her body from the day she had been kidnapped by Ackmard.

She sat up slowly, taking a second to feel the humidity press against her damp clothes and cold skin. Everything was still but for her, and everything was the same as she remembered it to be. The orange sun was high in the sky with no clouds to stifle its light, the grey ruins surrounding her sunken deep into the ground, the forest in the distance unwavering, for there was no breeze to so much as waft the leaves. The only movement was from the tiny specks of floating snowdust, and that was so slow, so majestic, that she barely noticed.

Perhaps this was why she felt so much more at home here. Everything was constant. Everything was eternal. Everything was peaceful—save for the red-haired woman standing in front of her, that was.

Hilda looked as unimpressed with Remy's presence as ever, with her arms crossed expectantly over her chest. "Please, do not rush on my account. I only have an eternity, you know."

"Oh, Hilda." Remy put a hand over her chest as she stood up, feigning adoration. "And I missed you, too. Who else would welcome me back with such warmth?"