Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 125422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
And then, just as quickly as it started, it stops.
I feel something solid beneath my feet before the gold of my vision starts to fade, and shapes and shadows come into view. Yet, there is no darkness here. The shadows are somehow bright and glistening, and I have that same sense I had when I first stared at my mother: that I can’t quite see what I’m looking at until I look at it from another angle.
I close my eyes, even though it gives no relief from the light. I’m about to teeter over, the ground suddenly feeling unstable, when a hand reaches out and grabs my arm to steady me. The touch is searing hot, as if I leaned on a burning stove, but it doesn’t hurt.
“It will take you time to acclimatize,” my mother says. “Take a moment. Find your balance and your footing before opening your eyes to this world. There might not be any oxygen, but I advise you to breathe deep anyway.”
No oxygen?!
My eyes fly open, lungs seizing in panic, and I immediately start to sway from the intensity, from the enormity of what I’m looking at. My mother keeps her grip on me, tsking under her breath, but all I can do is stare.
Before me is a radiant, utterly mythical landscape that looks like it was created in a fever dream. There are fields of glowing plants with shimmering petals that cast rainbows instead of shadows. Weaving between these iridescent fields are what look like vast deserts of fine golden sand sparkling intermittently. Every now and then, something blooms from the sand, cacti-like flora with luminescent leaves that open and close with the warm breeze.
Beyond are rivers of molten gold flowing through shimmering mesas and valleys. There, crystalline mountains and amber-colored forests stretch toward the sky, with tree leaves that glint like stained glass, absorbing the light and refracting it in a spectrum that fills the air like a soft aura. They stretch toward what feels like an endless horizon bathed in hues of gold, orange, and soft pinks, the light constantly shifting between a living sunrise and sunset.
“This is the sun,” I whisper. “How is this possible?”
Everything is illuminated by warm, golden light, including my own body, which, to my surprise, is no longer dressed in the damp clothes I left the Upper World in. Instead, I’m in a silk-like dress that drapes over my body like gossamer, the threads sparkling as if they’ve come alive.
It’s all the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, enough that my eyes burn like I’m about to cry.
“Hold your tears, Hanna,” my mother says, a hint of disapproval in her voice. “If you want to gain access to the powers of a God, you have to start acting less like a mortal.”
I nod, even though I don’t know how that’s possible, not here, where I feel so insignificant, like every inch of my mortality, of my humanity, has been amplified.
But despite feeling dwarfed by the grandeur of this realm, I straighten my spine and take a deep breath. Though she said there is no oxygen, air still fills my lungs, giving me strength. The atmosphere is warm and rich, carrying scents of exotic flowers and something akin to cinnamon. As I exhale, a sense of empowerment surges through me, as if the very breath I release is filled with latent magic waiting to be unleashed. Something inside my core fizzes like champagne, floating and sparkling in buoyant song.
It feels like my body is coming alive.
“There,” my mother says with a satisfied nod as she looks me over. “This is all part of the becoming. Let your inner self recognize this place. Let your divine heritage seep into your bones. This is the first part of the process.”
I close my eyes and let the radiant feeling wash over me, sinking in deep.
“What’s the second part?” I ask before opening my eyes.
She lets go of my arm and gestures for me to follow her as she walks along a path that lies in front of us, glossy and faintly yellow, as if made of shimmering citrine. I walk carefully, the gravity here making me feel buoyant. Each step we take resonates with a melodious chime, music that follows us.
As we walk, ethereal beings flit among the towering amber trees flanking the side of the path, their forms translucent and ever-shifting like dancing flames. They pay us no heed, consumed by their own mysterious activities as they weave patterns in the air with trails of light. I reach out to touch a luminescent thread, and it wraps around my fingers before dissipating into a shower of golden sparks.
I laugh, and even that sound is melodic. This is like one hell of a mushroom trip, except without any of the I’m-going-to-die anxiety. It’s ironic, because you’d think being on the fucking sun, of all places, might fill one with dread, but now that I’m here, I only feel wonder and belonging.