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Chapter 6: Sunlight
It was the sunlight that woke me up.
Sunlight.
It was warm, a soft, gentle kiss against the cold touch of my skin, whispering, lingering, burning tenderly through the frigid ice, gliding over my bitter skin like summer rains, slow and warm; it was like the breath of spring, the warm whispers of a soft lullaby trailing through the dark world, and for a moment, for just a moment, it felt like I was still in a dream, a dark fantasy fading away in the gentle stroke of golden light. Toes wiggled, and the warmth burned right through, so soft, so very beautiful, the horrid cold withering away in the dark nightmare, the golden warmth taking over, consuming me. Blackness washed away, like sands under the warm waves, my entire body beginning to burn with the golden warmth-
A bird whistled in the distance.
I opened my eyes.
Sunlight.
It was beautiful, a blast of gold burning straight at me as I fluttered my eyes open, wrenching my eyelids apart, the darkness fading away as bright, burning light shot through the world, so very bright, so very painful. My muscles winced as the golden daggers stabbed right through me, so strange, so very different from the cold icy darkness that it actually seemed to burn, strokes of fire writhing down my temples as pain shot to the back of my head, bolts of brilliant flames-
And I turned away, away from the bright, bright light, shielding my face with my short fringe as I turned away from the golden blaze and down towards my lap, towards the welcoming dark mess of Will's damp hair, towards the deep black of the robe. Wood gleamed gold, silver nails glowing like diamonds in the brilliant light, bristles of black strands burning like white threads in the golden warmth, fires gnawing against my skin; the cold was melting, melting away, and my skin was now raw and naked, the light burning so bright, so very strong against my shielding face, a warmth I could barely remember. Everything seemed to be on fire.
Beautiful, golden fire.
It was strong, lapping against my cheeks, so strange, so very odd, the simple, comforting golden light of the dream burning into a bright sun, as if there indeed, just a few miles away, a star burned through the world, melting away all the cold, darkness fleeing in its wake; below, in my lap, half of Will's silent, sleeping face seemed to be on fire, shadows running away from the star's brilliant golden fingers, half his face the colour of young suns and treasured golds. His sharp nose seemed be alight, and his black coat leaped with whispering, translucent shadows, golden wavy lines of water reflections shimmering all about his still body, a mirage of gold over ice. Silver buttons winked, playful little stars against the dawning day of his coat, maroon cloth burning like red flames. Dark lashes fluttered, golden and beautiful like the softest whisper.
Fires burned through the black robe.
Beautiful, golden fires.
Sunlight.
Balder sighed.
"Sunrise."
I couldn't breathe.
For a second, the light burned again, cruel and harsh, slamming against my foreign eyes, my changed eyes, burning viciously as I turned around and looked straight at it again, pain writhing beneath my skin, flames burning across my body, so bright, so very bright-
And then, it began to fade, falling away like fog in the wind, withering, dying, darkness seeping back into the world as the star began to burn less and less, pulling back, reining back, falling away into a soft, beautiful slumber…
And then, I saw it.
I actually saw it.
Oh God.
Before us, spilling out beyond us, beyond our little rocking boat, beyond Charon's black hooded back, beyond the imaginations of my world, was a river, a wide, giant river, stretching leaps of water painted into the world on either side. It was massive, so very wide, a thick, slow-moving river sitting like a wide flat disc of gold right before us; beneath, the little boat rocked in the small, golden waves of the deep river, bobbing helplessly upon soft licking waters, tilting back and forth on the rolling golden hills. Before, the river ran slow and deep, barely a current in sight, all the waters stretching away from us in a beautiful wisp of golden light, drenched in the sun's ever-radiant glow. Waves licked against wood, gold against black, and the sound of slapping water was like a tune in the warm light, a sweet melody playing in the morning's air, a waking song to the beautiful world. In the distance, a grey bird skidded over the water, hunting for prey, singing along to the soft laughter of the waves, sweet and ever alive.
Alive.
Alive.
I could barely breathe.
Alive.
All around me, the wind laughed, giggling along to the soft slapping of waves, bristling against my fiery skin, clashing cool against the hot burning touches of the golden light; but it was still warm, a beautiful, delicious warmth, a wonderful wind whirling around me, toying with my hair and murmuring into my ears, kissing my cheeks as it whipped over the golden waves. It was sweet, sweet and delicious, fresh like the river itself and with something fouler beneath, but so warm, so very warm, toying with the golden light in a dance, a gorgeous little minaret, a waltz in the sunrise. Birds called through the wind, loud, bustling, hungry, alive, blimps of dark darting about the golden light as the wind pushed them about like puppets on strings, the warm air laughing up into the wild, wild world. Ripples of gold and jewels, gems of clear splashed through the air as little waves crashed into one another, dancing the world with diamonds, everything so bright and pretty and golden; far away, down the length of the massive, wide river, dark shadows of boats bobbed obscurely in the bright gleam of the golden light. It was too vague, and too bright to see, but there were boats, some of them, sails of white fluttering like golden wings into the morning's air, wood creaking, whispering across the warm wind. Water giggled, bright and eager in the warm embrace.
And alive.
So very alive.
Alive.
My heart was so silent.
Alive.
On either side of the boat, our small little boat lost in the wide sea of the golden river, the water gleamed, beautiful and deep, so bright, so very golden that nothing could be seen through it, nothing at all; water stretched away from us, golden and deep, dotted with swans and skimming ducks, and bobs of gleaming trash. There were no boats nearby, none that I could see, and the water stretched radiant and wide, gold and transcendent until, on either side, the dark pillars of brick, grown out of the waters, cutting the glorious golden width midway. They were black pillars, massive pillars and though the light was so bright, so very beautiful, they stood untouched and unloved, massive brick structures tearing out of the golden waters and reaching up into the sky, bright green algae frothing along their sides. Above, cutting horizontally meters above the end of the boat, a large expanse of brick stretched unmarked and untouched, dark as the night itself, a wondrous contrast against the golden beam of the world. Golden water reflected onto the mouldy surface, high up in the air, like constellations of stars playing, dancing against an age-old sky; as the boat bobbed on, Charon's long bow digging deep into the golden flames of water, we moved farther and farther away from the brick pillars and ceiling until, at long last, we could see that it was some sort of bridge, a big, dark bridge, spanning over the golden waters. It was massive, so very massive, a dark shadow against the golden light of the burning world, stretching straight and perfect, a linear, horizontal line down the width of the river, high above, untouched by the gold. Pillars held it up, the black strong pillars of algae, and its body stretched long and wide, bank to bank, a giant, massive ancient bridge, an artwork in its own right. There was too much light to see any details, to see the bridge even better but it was beautiful and old, like something out of stories, like something out of dreams. Dark arches whipped, bridge of solid shadow-
And for a second, for just a second, I thought about Hel.
About her castle.
About the Underworld.
Alive.
A bird screamed in the distance.
Alive.
I turned back to the gold.
So alive.
The river was very wide, very gold, and very beautiful, the wind so sweet and warm, the ships and boats bobbing in the distance like the stuff of paintings and novels, steady and strong against the mild currents of the deep river, flapping golden sails and rocking oars, gold bleeding bright into the world, taking away every other colour, burning against my skin. The distance was a blur, a bright, golden blur, but the width, though wide, was not daunting, not unreachable like a sea, the shores on both sides gleaming with golden light of the rising sun. Dinghies and boats rested against little wooden jetties at the banks, little tiny quays; bobbing, unsteady things, they were, pathetic and old, ropes of yarn gleaming bright gold between them as white sails wavered along the shores on either side, boat after boat trailing along the golden edge in a messy, dark tangle. Beyond the little piers, washed in the golden light, cobblestone stair lined with dark, shadowy object, moving blurs that I could barely see beyond the warm, beautiful golden light, everything gleaming and sparkling and glowing like the sun itself, all darkness and ice melting away-
And the city glowing in the sunrise.
The city.
On either side of the wide golden river, piercing high up into the yellow dawn skies were buildings, sprawling, golden buildings, structure after structure filing down the golden shores, fading away into the radiant distance; dark, slumping, slouching buildings tangled together along the bright banks, twisting arches and crooked bricks stabbing up and down and up and down, haphazard patterns and weird lengths, everything out of synch. It was a mirage, a hallucination, the rows of golden-tinted building like gleaming teeth, jagged, broken teeth stabbing out of a monster's mouth, the golden river its fiery tongue, the ships and boats the helpless victims; there seemed to be no order, not from this distance, no particular theme, no design, the jagged teeth messy, chaotic, as if someone had drawn out the city at a mere fancy, imitating a monster's set of teeth clomping up into the golden skies. Tall towers pierced alongside low and shallow gold-tinted roofs, sharp angles and crude blunts, trails of walls cutting through the jumbled mess of golden buildings, forts here and there, as if build blindly around the tall towers and short fat houses. Even from this distance, in the wince of the golden light and the fade of every other colour, the city still looked chaotic on either side, a mess, a tangle, a jumbled slapdash of bricks and mortar and elegant design; buildings lay next to each other without purpose, all over the place, and above, caught between the varying, messy heights, frails of black smoke hovered over the city on either side, a black cloud wisping away, shadows in the golden light. Chimneys stuck out everywhere, absolutely everywhere, nasty little things stabbing out of dark chaos, black pumes of smoke throttling out their narrow pipes and out over the messy city, a dark shifting shadow, whipping away in the warm, golden wind.
Black against the beautiful gold.
Larger buildings stood at the back, massive dark shapes painted gold, terrifying over the city's haphazard heights but still so very ugly against the golden silence of the river and peaceful hum of the wind, a monstrous tangle dancing along the edge of the golden shores, piercing up into the skies. Jetties swayed, messy little things, lining up along the shores, cobblestones and wooden pillars tangling up towards the messy sprawl, everything so confusing and odd and jumbled up as if nothing had been planned, nothing at all, the dark mess so very ugly against the peaceful, deep river and its golden lapping waves, an odd and ugly city on both sides of the beautiful river-
And there, in the east, rising slowly above the chaos, above the shadowy towers and through the whispering smoke, the sun glowed, inching through the sky, its bright golden light chasing away all colour, all darkness, all bitter ice
All death.
The warm world sang a waking, merry tune.
Alive.
Birds laughed.
Alive.
Water danced.
Alive.
City woke.
Alive.
My voice came out in a frail, weak whisper.
"We're back," I could barely hear myself, nor believe the words that came out, my heart stopping, my breath still as I gazed out over the beautiful waters and living world, and the rising sun, the radiant sun, the forever-missed sun, my entire body burning with the heat of life, "We're back."
The wind laughed against my ears.
Sparrow's beads kissed against my cheeks.
We're back.
Balder chuckled.
"So we are."
And then, he reached forward and touched my neck, and his warm fingers felt lovely against my fiery skin, so comforting, so real, and for a moment, I turned away from the beautiful world, the living, breathing world, and ugly misshapen city, and back towards Balder in our boat; in the full glare of the sunrise, he never looked so handsome, so beautiful, his golden curls alight, his blue eyes flaring bright. His smile was soft and sweet, so very gentle, and as I stared him in the gleam of the fiery golden light, his fingers pressed deeper into my neck, warm and strong. Instinctively, I reached over his fingers, curious and a little annoyed-
And there was no blood.
There was no wound.
No pain.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing but the bare skin, the warm skin burning under the sun's glare, no blemish, no scar, nothing but smooth, soft skin, completely healed-
Completely alive.
Oh God.
Without another word, I flung Balder's warm fingers away and bent down towards the man asleep in my lap, hands reaching down towards him, heart springing to life as my brain snapped awake, shock pounding, questions burning, everything suddenly so clear and so bright and so, so full of energy, my fingers burning as I reached down-
And held the sides of Will's head, my own heart hammering, my mind whirling. Dark, curly hair brushed against my skin, still damp, still cold as my fingers slid over his brazen cheeks and cupped either side of his face, my own breath caught in my throat as I leaned in towards him, holding him, never letting him go. Half of him burned gold in the sun's light, so beautiful, so utterly beautiful, and my breath held back, caught in my lungs as I leaned in towards him, holding him close, pressing my lips against his warming forehead and listened-
To his soft, soft breath.
Alive.
I could barely speak.
"He's alive."
Alive.
Balder's voice was just another chuckle.
"Told you to trust me."
Alive.
I couldn't think.
Will was alive.
For a moment, all I did was hold him, hold his warming body, hold the sides of his beautiful, beautiful face, lips pressed against his forehead as I listened to his breathing, his soft, slow breathing, a gentle tune, a beautiful song, even more lovely then the hums of the wind and the laugh of water, so precious and pure and so very real; he was breathing, and he was alive, and-
Will was alive.
I turned slowly, away from the warm forehead, a smile spilling across my lips as my heart sighed with utter relief, my entire body trembling, fires racing. The air was so fresh and sweet.
Balder's eyes were beautiful.
I smiled.
"You did it."
His grin cracked like the sun.
"We did it."
And nothing more was said.
Not for a while.
For the longest time, we just stared at each other, and I just held Will, feeling his body breathing, heart soaring at the reality, and the pure fact that we were out of Hel, out of the darkness and ice, that we were back, that we were alive once again.
Alive.
Finally alive.
Will and I.
We were both alive again.
Alive.
His breath sang like a tune.
"I told you I'd do it," I whispered, against his warmed forehead, holding on to him, never letting go, the sun's rays burning against our skins, so bright, so eager, so very delicious, gold gleaming, flickering, my world nothing more then Will's warm face and his soft, soft breathing, "I told you I would get us out. Look, Will. We're alive."
He didn't response.
Nothing.
He just breathed, soft and beautiful, and I just sat there, holding him with every thing I had.
Alive.
Water laughed in sunrise's glow.
Wind giggled, warm and flirty.
Shadows pooled above cities, dark against the gold.
Fires burned warm.
Balder spoke.
"So, where do you reckon we are then?"
For a second, I ignored him, lips pressed to Will's forehead, listening to breath, watching intently as his chest rose up and down, up and down, so very alive, so very living once more, just like before…
And then, I pulled back, sighing softly, bones melting in the sun's glare. Gleams of light, golden, brilliant light slashed across my vision, turning my dark blonde into brilliant gold as the wind caught it, tugging on it, pulling relentlessly with its warm, sweet hands. The heat was starting to sink in, to really sink and suddenly, for the first time since I had been Hel, I really, really wanted to sleep.
Just sleep.
Here, in the rocking boat, in the beautiful light, with Will in my arms.
Just sleep.
And never wake up.
Ever.
Instead, I ran a hand through my hair, the other still holding onto Will's warming cheek and turned back to Balder, boat rocking, nodding gently beneath us; he wasn't looking at me anymore, but beyond me, off the sides of our boat, staring down the river and its shadows of boats, jetties and messy, haphazard buildings. Golden curls, bright and radiant in the sunlight, whipped back, crashing against his bronze skin.
Will's breath was a golden song.
"What?"
The boat creaked as golden water slapped, laughing against wood.
Balder combed fingers through his curls.
"This place," he said simply enough, and then gestured out beyond the boat, waving his big hands, the golden arrows behind his back glittering and twinkling in the light as he moved, his accent rolling over the morning silence as a little smile tugged at his lips, "Do you know it?"
My blood raced hot.
I frowned.
What?
Without letting go of Will, I turned my head, back to the glorious golden river, the dark shadows of sails and boats, the creeping messy city on either side, smoke foul and brutal high up, ugly against the sunrise as pillars and roofs of bricks filled together, all chaotic and haphazard-
And then, shook my head.
"No...I don't know it. Do you?"
"You're asking a god who was buried for over 4000 years."
"And you're asking a girl who's not even from this world!" I snapped back, curls flying, birds squawking away in the golden distance, sun burning against the back of my neck,"How the hell am I supposed to know, idiot?"
His grin was once more maddening.
Will breathed.
"I don't know…you know, your world and this world is not supposed to be that different, me dame-"
"Only that we're, like 300 years faster than this-"
"I know. Time flux-"
"So I don't know where we are."
"Well, neither do I-"
"London."
It came as whisper, a lingering, dark, icy whisper in the gold trance of the world, in the heat and fires and the simple tune of Will's breath. It was just a murmur, a whisper of cold, a bloody stab of ice that for a moment, for just a moment, it was as if we were back, back in Hel, back in that icy anguish as the walls closed in and my breath cut short, the fires fleeing, the warmth withering, my heart screaming out in terror as I dug my fingers deeper into Will's skin, never, ever letting him go-
And then, Balder nodded to something beside me, at the head of the boat.
Something.
Oh God.
I turned.
Standing at the head of the small rocking boat, tall and black and so very dark, was Charon, his black robe spilling down towards us, his hood still up, his face still hidden. Ripples of dark cloth flowed down his tall, ominous being, a gentle, heaving black, robes rustling in the soft golden breeze as they spilled down the wood and towards Will's side, like a flowing black river, dark as hell. His hood was large, shivering in the river's golden whisper, the touch of the bright light kissing against the black edges, liming his figure against the beautiful, golden sunrise; even in the burning light, he seemed untouched, a black, silent shadow standing before us, leading us on, a dark, dark abyss in the beautiful, brimming world. In his hands, the long, vertical oar dug into the water over and over again, slow and methodical, the golden river giggling each time the dark wood dipped into its depths, our little boat rocking forward, waves slapping, laughing with glee. Gold burned against black, fire against ice.
Light against darkness.
Life against death.
Charon.
I shivered.
Will breathed.
Balder chuckled.
"Ah! London!" he beamed, his accent ringing true as he gazed up at the silent, horrid back of our rower, golden curls laughing, his smile suddenly oddly placed against the memory of that whisper, of that single, icy word in the golden blaze, my own tongue bitter as I held on to Will with my life, "Good chap there, Charon."
The shadow didn't reply.
Oh God.
No one spoke for a bit.
For a moment, we just sat there, the whisper, the icy, dreadful whisper still hanging above us as Charon rowed us farther and farther into the golden river, the burning light melting against my skin, the boats, the birds and the crumbling city dark and beautiful and so very alive. Waves licked, warm wind giggled, and in that short silence, in that terrible, clawing silence, I held on to Will, holding him as close to me as possible.
Never letting go.
Ever.
Ever again.
Never again.
Charon's robes rustled in the burning light.
Will's breath sung a haunting tune.
Never again.
Balder broke the silence.
"London! Fancy that!"
It was enough to make me look at him again.
Thank God.
"What?" I murmured, shaking off the icy whisper still prickling against the back of my neck, turning away from the rower, from the cold, from all the dread, my own thumb skimming over Will's burning cheek. Before me, Balder seemed unaffected as usual, untouched by the icy breath, his golden face, his golden curls and his golden smile beaming before me, bright in the sun's glare. His accent rolled over the warm lapping waves and somewhere behind me, far beyond Charon's soft paddling and gloomy silence, voices shouted, the sounds of fishermen and sailors ringing across the golden river. Birds squawked and splashed, noisy as ever.
I tried to push Charon out of my mind.
It was hard.
Incredibly hard.
God.
Will stirred slightly.
Balder grinned.
"London, me dame, London!" his smile was golden, and the warm air began to envelop me again, ice melting away, wood rocking beneath me, my thumb playing against Will's cheekbone, sliding shyly as I gazed over at the beaming god, pushing Charon completely out of mind," Fantastic, beautiful, civilized, elegant, glorious, banana-filled-"
"You have no idea what London is, do you?"
"Not a clue."
"It's a city," I sighed softly, turning away from Balder's golden face to gaze over at the dark city again, at the black chaos against the golden sunrise, avoiding Charon's flowing dark back as I ran my fingers against Will's warm cheek, stroking his face, the air warm and soft again, my insides sinking once more into perfect bliss, "One of the greatest cities in the world, especially now, in the 18th century."
"Oh. How great?"
"Try capital of the biggest empire in the world right now."
"Ah, humans!" and his smile stretched, his blue eyes bright with the glory of the rising sun, his beautiful golden curls laughing as they danced in the warm wind, the boat rocking beneath us like a slow, beautiful lullaby, "Kingdoms, empires…you lot never fail to keep on growing. It's why the magical world hid from you lot. You're poison."
"But why London?" I frowned, pulling my gaze away from Balder, away from Will to throw a quick, guerrilla look at Charon over my shoulder, my eyes barely taking in his shadowy form against the bright sunlight, warmth fighting against the blast of cold that impulsively came from that one look, "Of all the places in the world? I mean, I haven't even been here before, in this damn universe or back home. Shouldn't he have brought us to where we died? Well…where Will and I died? The island? Why London?"
"Why not London?" Balder then reached forward two bronze fingers and playfully tugged at Sparrow's beads, his smile mischievous, devious, almost wicked, Will stirring slightly in my lap as a wave knocked a little higher up the swell, the voices of sailors ringing through the golden warm air, "Seems logical, doesn't it? Greatest city in the world…greatest empire…"
A scowl began to settle on my sun-kissed face.
I slapped his hand away.
"It doesn't make sense."
"So does the rest of world."
"But-"
"But what?" and his smile softened, at the edges, as he pulled and fingers and nursed the sore skin, his blue eyes so beautiful and so insane, "You're alive. You both are. Shouldn't you be thankful for that?
I didn't know what to say.
Alive.
Not too far away, beyond Charon's silent black shadow, a small sailing boat was skimming over the waters towards us, in our direction, white sails sighing in perfect gold, tiny dark figures darting about the deck of the wooden dwarf, yelling to one another; we were nearing them now, the people, the boats, the jetties, the dark shadows of darting men now more human, more real, the voices clearer, louder, ringing in the warm air in splattering of English, French, and Spanish. Dark jetties became clearer and clearer, and as our tiny boat bobbed closer and closer back to civilization, back to life, I held Will close and warm, stroking his cheek, brushing his hair. His breath rang true and pure, and the world was warm and alive.
Alive.
Not even Charon could dampen that joy.
So very alive.
I cleared my throat.
"We need to find an inn or something," I looked away, back over the golden waves, away from Balder's blue eyes, gazing across to the bobbing dark ships and boats and jetties, at the sprawling city and the flood of black smoke, holding Will as close to as possible, "We need to rest. All of us…especially Will."
"Ah. A proper bed."
"And food."
"Hungry already?"
"Not really, no. Just…"
"Tired?"
"I want to die."
"Haven't we done that already?"
I couldn't help it.
I had to smile.
"Shut up, genius."
"Genius…" and his smile was wide, like a child's, so very lively adorable, "I like that word. I like it a lot. Genius. Genius-"
"It's sarcasm, you twat-"
"Sarcasm? Never heard of it."
"How can you not have heard of sarcasm?"
"Um, hello? 4000 years buried on an island in the middle of nowhere?"
"Poor excuse."
"Poor excuse? Poor excuse? Have you any idea what its like to be buried for 4000 years, me dame? I'll bury you, and you could give it a try."
"Touch me and you're dead, pal."
"You can't kill a god, me dame-"
"Dude, I'm Joey Wolfe. I'll find a way."
"Yeah, just liked you said you would "find a way" last week, when we have to sneak past the Wicked Sisters-"
"Are you seriously still on that? How many times do I have to tell you, I didn't…."
And just like that, our voices trailed, and our conversation streamed on as our little boat paddled forth towards London.
+THE END+
Ok, so I don't know about the ending…. Anyway, thanks for all the reviews guys! It's my holidays and so yeah, I'll be writing a lot. XD
Once again, thanks for all the reviews, and please tell me anything you want to tell me. If you feel that Joey has changed too much, please let me know. I'm trying to make a little different, as anyone would after what she had gone through but if you guys aren't getting it…. please let me know!
Also, I'm going to be a whore right now, and give you guys my tumblr account. I would give you the URL, but doesn't allow me too. So, to whoever wants to add me, please just type "talking-to-sirens tumblr" on Google. The first link, with the name Tanya there, is mine.
I know, I know…very whore-like. But I'm new to tumblr, and I really want to follow more people as well as to have more followers. If you read my fanfic and by some chance decided to follow me on tumblr, please leave a message on my tumblr ask box or my review page to let me know.
Okok. I'll stop whoring now.
Anyway, signing off and see you soon!
XOXO