The Long Journey Book Novels & Stories

Feeling the last of my energy drain from me, I laid my head on the headrest and watched as endless cars seemed to mark each passing miles towards the first stop on this crazy, hopefully successful, journey. End of Book 1

It was late in the evening but the sky seemed to be more gloomy and the atmosphere more despondent than ever to this unfortunate woman. The following day, exactly at the first cock crow, she left her marital home for her ancestral home in Ahero. And as she opened the gate, she whispered into the silence, "Though Nyasaye of the Long-lasting Tree does not hearken to people's misadventures in life, maybe that of the Blue-eyed does. If only they would accept the less fortunate like me, then I... ." The wind swept away the rest of her words as she vanished into the numbing morning cold. ***

It was not long before the muffled cries of passion, broken and sporadic, seeped into Jessica's ears. Just a wall away, she trembled, sliding down against the cool surface to the floor. Anthony's breath came in ragged gasps. "Linda, after having a kid, how are you still so...?" Linda's breathy response followed, "Oh, and Jessica isn't?" The sounds of their encounter grew more intense, culminating in Anthony's low roar. "Jess is too buttoned-up, nothing like you—so free-spirited from your time overseas."

Finding only genuine joy, he pressed a passionate kiss onto John's lips. John melted into his mate's embrace, overwhelmed by the moment. He was eager to share the news with Carla, Magnus, and the rest of the pack during their gathering tonight. Reflecting on the twists of fate, John marvelled at how his initial urge to leave and seek a better future had led him right to his destined journey The end

I glance back up to the first sentence of the chapter and it reads, “When preparing for an adventure, the first, and possibly most important, decision is who you will choose as your companion.” Tears begin to well up in my eyes as my fingers work to grasp the edges of the box and pull it out from between the pages of the book. It’s such a kind gesture to show that he understands my love of travel, and it seems like he’s going to make my dreams a reality.

Soren had held me as we hid in this very room, the sound of gunfire lasting the entire night. At dawn, he pushed the door open, covered in blood, and said to me, "Abby, when we get out of here, I'll never let you be this terrified again." What a fucking joke. We had fought through a hail of bullets for twelve years to escape this world of blood and violence, just to get to where we were today. I thought we were fighting for a future together. Every time I felt like I couldn't go on, we would pull out the file with our new identities for Northern Europe and remind each other what we were fighting for.

Finally, she pulled out a book and beamed. “I once read this, and loved it so much I read it again and again. You’ll love it.” She handed it to me proudly. It was green, around two hundred pages, titled Trust the Journey. Catchy enough. I signed it out, planning to read over the weekend. I always enjoyed reading in the cool of a Saturday evening with a smoothie. An image of Henry flashed in my mind—walking toward me on the balcony, tray in hand with two glasses. Why did these reminders keep haunting me?

I nodded slowly, realizing what his answer truly meant: the Living Book wasn't here. Whether he didn’t trust me, or the danger was too great to carry it along, I didn’t know. But I stopped searching. Instead, I buried myself in the small cube Zevarion had gifted me, fingers working it restlessly as I tried to anchor my thoughts in the memory of his warmth, his arms, his voice. Each night grew colder. Each morning, darker. And then, on the eleventh day, just as the book had warned, we reached it. The horses slowed, snorting uneasily. Even the wind stilled, as though the very earth held its breath.

I knew better than to complain. The carriage was already outside waiting when I opened the door. I climbed in without a word, settling into a corner as my stepmother clutched her bag like it was her child. Ava and Avia sat across from me talking to themselves. The journey was so long that I lost track of time. the rocking of the wheels lulling me. I didn't know where we were going, but Jerry’s expression told me it wasn't somewhere ordinary. The roads changed, the houses grew larger, spaced farther apart. Tall trees loomed both sides, casting deep shadows. I sat up. The air was different here. Like it buzzed with something I couldn't name.

It felt real. “What’s it about?” I asked softly, glancing down at the cover of the book. He took a small step back, his gaze flickering to the ground. “It’s about a boy who gets lost in space and… he has to find his way home,” he explained, his voice quieter now, the words coming slower.