On an old wooden bench, surrounded by unhurriedly growing grass, sat a boy with hair as black as night and golden eyes, opaque as dull suns. He held a cup of coffee in his cold hands as he looked up at the sky.
Towards there... towards that immense crack with golden edges that split the blue sky like an ancient wound that never closed.
People passed by it without paying attention to it, as if that crack didn't exist, as if it didn't mean anything anymore. And maybe it did... after all, it had been there forever. How can you be afraid of what is part of the landscape?
I looked down at my left wrist, where a cracked watch - a relic from another time - read 7:46 a.m. As I looked at the time, I felt a shiver run down my spine, and suddenly, the world seemed to weigh heavier.
-I'm too late!
I had lost myself in the contemplation of the crack, as so many times before. That wound in the sky seemed to have the power to absorb time, and I, silly me, fell once again under its spell. I had forgotten that today was the entrance exam for the Professional Academy.
With a desperate gesture, I threw the coffee glass into the nearest basket, got up suddenly and started running through the narrow streets of the city. I dodged faces and bodies like a specter that didn't want to be touched.
-Be careful! -shouted a firm voice. It was Mr. Doss, with a thick gray beard and an imposing figure. He had a coffee stand near my house. My father's old friend always offered me a friendly smile and hot bread at a laughing price.
I almost knocked over his tray of glasses as I ran past him.
-I'm sorry, Mr. Doss! I'm late!
-Good luck, Bill! -he shouted, raising his arm with a warmth that seemed painfully familiar at the time.
-Thank you! I replied without pausing, with a guilt-soaked half-smile.
I was running as if I could leave behind anxiety, fear of failure... and maybe something else.
And just when it seemed that nothing else could go wrong, a small shadow was cast on the ground. As I looked up, a cat - with claws that looked like blades - lunged straight for my face. I felt the sting of its claws messing up my face and hair.
-Ow... ow! Let go of me, you ugly cat!
For an instant he seemed to pause, looking at me with a mocking calm, and then he attacked again with more rage. With an effort, I managed to tear it away from me, leaving behind scratches and an almost comical humiliation. I kept running, furious and wounded, muttering:
-Did I steal her offspring or something?
So, with my face scarred, my hair a mess and my body sweating profusely, I arrived at the academy. I tried to catch my breath, but before I could, I heard my name.
-Bill Rusel.
-Here!
I advanced towards my seat like an exhausted ghost, while I felt the glances on me. Some were surprised, others mocking, others... simply indifferent.
I sat down, ignoring everything but the leaf in front of me. I took a deep breath. I had to concentrate. I couldn't fail. Not after everything my mother had done to give me this chance.
"All right, focus," I repeated to myself, like a desperate mantra.
[What are the main cities and who are their respective rulers].
"Heh...this one's easy," I thought, though the assurance felt borrowed, almost feigned.
"Daemon... Krorlan... and Sky... Sky City..."
...
"...I hope I passed." I left the classroom with a sinking heart and a drooping expression.
"Sometimes I don't know if this is the right thing to do. At home everything weighs heavier every day... and my mother carries everything alone."
I walked home with my shoulders slumped and my eyes lost.
My father... He was a pilot in the Daemon city forces. When I was ten years old, he would take off into the sky as we watched him disappear. That sky that seemed so vast... and so cruel.
The three cities - Daemon, Krorlan, Sky - clashed in absurd wars, for power, for fear, for the Rift. My father died in the last great war, crashing his ship against the edge of that celestial abyss, as if he had wanted to cross it... or simply escape.
They say his body disintegrated along with the ship, in an explosion of metal and flesh. My mother never told me about it as a matter of course. She preferred to wrap the tragedy in a white lie.
At that time, bodies rained from the sky so often that the sea ended up dyed red. An indelible image. A scar on people.
The Rift is still there, suspended in the sky as a reminder of all that has been lost. Many have tried to understand it. Some fear it. Others believe it is a promise. But the truth is that no one knows what it is. A punishment. A miracle. An omen.
And yet... people have learned to ignore it.
How do you learn to ignore the pain that never goes away.
...
Seeing the white door with its ornate plants climbing up the sides, I felt a pang of relief. The drive home from the academy after a marathon exam left me feeling nauseous and overwhelmingly sleepy.
I could have taken the bus, yes, but that luxury is reserved for the few, and I am not one of them.
With all the expenses, college, my siblings' high school, and the never-ending contingencies, saving every penny is a necessity.
The money my father left behind was enough for a while, used with care... but in times of war, education takes a back seat when what is missing is a plate on the table.
Still, I crossed the threshold with a slight smile on my lips.
The aroma of freshly cooked food enveloped me as soon as I walked in. I headed for the kitchen, and there she was: my mother. Liz.
A woman with a tired but serene face, black hair with discreet white strands peeking out. Her porcelain-white skin was marked by dark circles under the eyes that decorated her blue eyes.
He served plates with what appeared to be a piece of chicken and a generous portion of rice.
-How was your exam? -he asked, without looking at me at all.
-Too simple," I replied, crossing my arms and lifting my chin, feigning confidence.
He looked at me, arching an eyebrow.
-Are you sure?
I swallowed saliva.
-Aah... you caught me," I said as I looked down little by little.
-No... it was going well at the beginning, but at the end it got complicated...
She put down the dishes for a moment and watched me silently. Her eyes were no longer just serene: there was concern, but also strength.
-Mom, I... I did what I could.
She reached over and lifted my chin with two fingers, forcing me to look directly at her. My pale face, marked by scratches and parched lips, contrasted with the calm firmness in her gaze.
-I don't care if you don't approve. If you gave it your all, then there's nothing else to do but try again. But don't trip over the same stone twice. Do it until you make it. Do you understand?
I stood still for a second, not knowing what to say. His voice was not harsh, but firm, the kind that sticks in your chest.
-Yes, Mom," I answered at last, in a low but determined voice.
She smiled with that peace that only tired mothers can project.
-Besides, it's not as if you've already failed. Sit down, the food is getting cold. Ana and Lucas will be here any minute.
I dropped into the chair, finally feeling my body relax little by little, as if that small moment was enough to release the weight of the day.
No sooner had I settled into the chair than we heard the front door creak.
Soft laughter and quick footsteps flooded the atmosphere.
-We're here! shouted a high-pitched voice from the entrance.
Through the kitchen came Ana, with that electric energy that never seemed to end. She was thirteen years old, with big blue eyes and a smile so contagious that one forgot any worries for a few seconds.
Her reddish-brown hair was tied in a high ponytail that bounced with every step.
Behind her, a little slower but with equal enthusiasm, came eleven-year-old Lucas. His black hair fell in messy locks over his forehead and his golden eyes had that rare mixture of sweetness and mischief. On his left cheek was a fresh bruise, but he was smiling as if it were nothing.
The two entered the kitchen like little hurricanes. Noticing the aroma of food, their faces lit up even more.
-It smells great! -said Ana, with saliva dripping from her mouth.
Lucas threw himself straight into his chair, while I watched them with a smile that could barely hide the tiredness.
Ana gave me a mischievous look.
-So? How was your exam, brother?
I settled back in the chair, regaining a little pride.
-Excellent, if I'm being honest," I said with a hint of arrogance and a lopsided smile.
They both stopped for a second and watched me with narrowed eyes, as if they suspected something.
-Really? -they asked in unison, with the same look of disbelief on their faces.
I sighed, remembering the talk with Mom, and looked down.
-...No.
For a moment, silence.
Then they burst out laughing.
-We knew it! -said Ana laughing.
-Your "everything's fine" face always gives you away! -added Lucas.
I joined in the laughter, albeit with a touch of indignation. But that moment, that brief moment between jokes and smiles, was like a warm respite in the midst of the daily chaos.
-What about you? -I asked, looking at them curiously. How was the fight?
Ana and Lucas looked at each other, with that silent complicity that only younger siblings share, and then looked back at me with a mischievous smile.
Lucas nodded proudly, as Ana responded:
-Let's say... the other child will not recognize himself in the mirror for a few days.
The laughter resounded again. Mom, who was already serving the dishes on the table, gave us a sharp look.
-Oh, please! -he exclaimed, before handing out a "light" smack on the head to each of us. It didn't hurt, of course, it was more symbolic. A loving warning.
He looked at us with a raised eyebrow.
-Let's eat, before I regret cooking for you!
We got serious for a second... and then we all burst out laughing again as we served ourselves.
At that instant, the world outside those walls seemed far away.
Late at night, after dinner, I lay down on my bed.
My room was in semi-darkness, barely illuminated by the pale light of the crack coming through the window.
I closed my eyes, reviewing the day:
The moment I was mesmerized staring at the crack, the incident with the coffee and Mr. Doss, the encounter with the ugly cat, the exam... and, finally, the dinner with laughter with Mom, Ana and Lucas.
It was definitely a strange day... but also a good one.
With that thought, I let myself be embraced by sleep.
A strange sensation ran through my body.
It was as if my soul was slowly detaching from my body. I tried to open my eyes, move my arms... but nothing responded.
My body was paralyzed.
It floated.
In a black space, without floor or sky. Only emptiness.
The anguish grew. I began to writhe in the air, desperate to understand what was happening.
Until, suddenly, I managed to open my eyes.
Panting, sweating, my heart pounding in my chest as if it wanted to burst out, I looked around.
White clouds surrounded me and... through those clouds was something I only contemplated on the ground.
It was there.
The crack.
But this time, not up there in the sky.
It was right in front of me.
Barely a few feet separated me from its golden edges that sparkled like restrained lightning.
-What... what is this...? -I muttered, my voice cracking.
Without warning, an excruciating pain shot through my stomach.
Bluaaahg.
I vomited blood and guts. As if my insides were being ripped to shreds.
Pain invaded my body like an uncontrollable hurricane.
I folded in on myself, clenching my abdomen, still not understanding whether I was floating or resting on some invisible ground.
It was then when I looked up that I saw him.
A shadow.
Human, tall, sturdy. Standing right in the middle of the crack.
Unmoving. Watching me.
I crawled towards her. I don't know why I did it. Maybe looking for help, or maybe wanting to get through the fissure, to escape the pain, the agonizing feeling of being here.
Every meter I advanced, the pain intensified.
Blood was dripping from my mouth.
But I was already so close...
Then a tremor occurred.
At first slight, like a sigh from the universe.
Then another one.
Stronger.
I stopped.
The world - if it was still in one - froze.
There was no more sound. Only the rumbling of that invisible earthquake.
The skies, the void, everything was shaking.
The silhouette was no longer a shadow.
Nor did it look like a human.
A shiver ran down my spine as I understood what I was seeing.
He was not a person.
He was a colossal giant.
More than a hundred meters long.
Gray, cracked skin, covered with rashes as if it had been boiled in fire.
Arms like tree trunks, legs that trembled with every step.
On his forehead, a single black eye. Deep as an abyss, staring at me with monstrous indifference.
Below it, two eyes sewn with thread.
And in his hand, a huge club covered with metal spikes.
He had broken shackles on his wrists, as if he had escaped from some impossible prison.
I could not move.
I could not breathe.
I was paralyzed in that floorless sky, reduced to an insect in front of an ancient and forgotten god.
The giant took a step.
Then another.
He was heading in my direction.
His gaze pierced through me. I could feel him reading my every thought.
Nothing was hidden.
And then, he raised his left foot.
A titanic foot descending... straight towards my head.
I closed my eyes, waiting for the end.
I opened my eyes with a start.
My bed.
My room.
The familiar darkness.
I was sweating profusely.
My chest ached, my body trembled, as if I had really been crushed.
I sat up with an effort, panting.
I looked around, fearing to see the giant in some corner.
There was no one there. Only the silence of the night.
I went to the window.
There it was.
The crack.
Still suspended in the sky.
But this time...
There was something different.
It was opening up.
More and more.
Slowly, as if the world itself were tearing apart.
The earth trembled.
The same tremor I felt in the dream.
I gritted my teeth, not taking my eyes off the sky.
The crack grew.
And with it, a golden white light began to seep through, as if the sun itself had broken.
That's when I heard it.
A feminine, robotic, perfect voice.
-Congratulations! You have managed to survive the ... of the ...]
I was paralyzed.
-What ...? -I whispered, not understanding.
The voice continued, impassive.
-[Individual suitable to enter the rift, Best of luck].