I Live Where The Land Meets The Sky の小説・ストーリー

“We would hear if there were any fatalities.” “There are no fatalities because no one ever ventures out here except idiots like us.” “Rubbish! I’ve seen evidence that others have trekked these mountains. Anyway, think of the millions of people who lived here before the Ice Age.” I was quoting from information that was nothing more than general knowledge, but I hoped it would take Dresna’s mind off his fear of falling through into the icy waters and certain death. Finally, reaching the other side of the lake, we made our way across the moguls towards the glistening peaks emerging from several low-lying clouds.

They use an arm to cover their eyes and wave farewell to me with the other. I take in the beautiful views. Fish fly up and back into the water as we fly over Moonstone River. Deer and elk graze, and the sky is clear. But when I look to my right, I can see the sky in the far distance is dark, and the lands are ruined and deserted. We’ve only been flying for half an hour when I see Mystic Pride ahead.

“Try searching for where the Heavens meet the Earth, not heaven on earth.” Katalea typed as quickly as she could. Before she could even get the last letters filled in, her auto complete kicked in. She passed her phone around for everyone to see. Luca whistled low and long and Zinnia practically levitated, she got so excited. “It is so pretty there, is that where we are to go?” She sounded childlike in her wonder. “Is that a place we can even get to?”

The death of a half-immortal invoked scenes of anguish from the heavens, as was always the case! The sky was originally clear in Midland, but the weather soon changed abruptly. Dark clouds covered most of the Bleurealm, and the roaring of thunder brought forth blood rain. It was as if heaven and earth mourned, and everyone within Bleurealm looked up at the sky to witness the spectacle. The major sacred lands in Midland that were closest to the headquarters of the Primordial Sacred Land were abuzz with chatter from their disciples.

“The one-night stand?” She nodded. “All the time,” he admitted. “But I think we would’ve found each other anyway. Eventually. Some stories are just… inevitable.” She leaned into him, resting her cheek against his chest. “I like our story.” “So do I.” That evening, Skye walked through the garden they’d started on the center’s rooftop. Raised beds brimmed with tomatoes, herbs, and lavender. Children giggled as they chased each other between rows, while two older volunteers taught a workshop on growing food in urban spaces.

He raised his hand just above the water surface. Images formed. A city floating on clouds. A huge area with plenty of light towers. A ship sailing on sand. A mountain is the home to a door in the sky. Naela described these sites as silent, like they are still fast asleep. “Places that call.” Serakha reached over and placed her hand on Lucian’s arm. We have to travel to the places where the people are. “Yes,” Arden said. We have to invite others to join us. Naela smiled. When you experience this, the real work is only just getting started.

"Jeff? Is he your husband?" "No, he's a stranger." With those final words, Cecilia stood up and walked out without looking back. Zephyr City was known for its endless rainy days, and today was no different. Cecilia walked through the rain with her head held high, quickly vanishing into the crowd. Goodbye, Zephyr City. She had no ties to that place anymore...

The night air outside was cool and crisp, stars scattered across the inky sky. When they arrived, the bonfire was already in full swing. Flames crackled and danced in the middle of the clearing, casting golden light across the crowd of laughing teenagers. Some stood in circles roasting marshmallows on sticks; others sat on logs, chatting over drinks. Music pulsed from a portable speaker nearby, blending with the sound of waves crashing against the distant shore. Ava pulled the car over and turned off the engine. The girls stepped out, instantly hit by the warmth of the fire.

I push open the door to an old pub at the end of the lane. A fireplace crackles inside. Oak wood pops and snaps. Somewhere in the background, bagpipes play softly. The warmth wraps around me the moment I step in. I breathe it in. And for a second, the old cold buried deep in my bones eases. There was a time when my hands shook so badly I couldn’t even hold silverware. Now I greet the round-faced landlady with ease. “The usual,” I say. “Hot milk. No sugar.” She smiles and hands it over.

When I walked out of the courthouse, the sunlight was brilliant. Looking at the bustling street, my mind felt exceptionally clear. I faced the sun and took a deep breath. From that day on, my kindness had to come with an edge.