The Secrets of Heaven

Chapter 3

Chapter 3Dante

Dante lay sprawled on the cracked ground, unmoving, barely breathing. From a distance, he might be easily mistaken for a corpse. He’d been lying like this for what felt like hours, patiently waiting for what’s been staring at him all day to approach. Then there was the shuffling of wings.

A vulture had taken an interest in him.

Two clawed feet clicked on the parched soil. As the beak was about to peck, Dante grabbed the bird by the elongated throat, and as it let out a raspy hiss, he broke its neck.

“Raphael! Dinner!” Dante shouted, quite proud of himself.

On the third day of following the train tracks through the desert, Raphael and Dante had finished all the dried food in their backpack and had to live off the land.

Unfortunately, this land was barren. There was nothing in sight but a dusty landscape. The horizon was a perfect line where the earth stopped and the sky began. The ground under their feet was hard and cracked. Dryness permeated the air, too, which made the heat more bearable.

The only living beings Dante had noticed nearby were the vultures. And now that he had one, he used a dried-up dead tree on the path to start a fire.

While the bird was cooking on a makeshift spit, Dante looked up at the sky. The sun was blinding, not a single cloud in sight. It was past noon, so the heat was becoming unbearable.

For two people used to the mountains, this was a shocking change of climate. Fortunately, the nights were cold, so they covered as much ground as they could after sundown. The first few days weren’t so bad, but now their rationed food finished and their water was dwindling.

Dante wondered if he could make it rain.

His telekinetic abilities were becoming more potent with every breath he took. Each day, he could influence objects at greater distances. So why wouldn’t he be able to bring a rain cloud over here and produce rain?

Dante’s abilities generally didn’t seem to have anything to do with each other, but his old mentor, back when he was a child, called them control over energy.

And energy was everywhere.

Levitating himself and other objects, and propelling them in different directions, was influencing kinetic energy. Sprouting functioning wings was turning energy into matter. killing-intent, which was a different type of energy, was visible to his senses. And the more Dante thought about it, the more he realized he had barely grazed the surface of his potential.

Last night, before falling asleep, his imagination had gone wild.

Could he crush an object to pieces? And then reduce these pieces to dust? What about bringing it all back together into the original object? Could he do the same to a living being? If he could turn energy into matter, could he create another sun in the sky?

“I don’t think we should eat this,” Raphael interrupted Dante’s train of thought, as he sat beside the campfire, looking at the roasting bird with disdain.

“Why not?” Dante asked.

“Vultures eat carcasses. The meat is probably polluted.”

Dante frowned. “Well, I’m sorry I can’t cook you a palace meal, Your Highness. This is all we’ve got. Now, eat it to stay alive.”

They were lucky he managed to capture something with meat on it. He should be happy. And to demonstrate how proud he was of his hunt, Dante picked up the spit from the fire, once he deemed the bird cooked, and voraciously bit down.

Poison poured into his mouth.

Dante immediately spat the bite and coughed violently as the insufferable bitterness reached his throat. He stood up in anger and tossed the cooked bird as far away from them as possible. The taste still lingered in his mouth, making his tongue numb, and causing him to shiver all over in disgust.

Maybe starvation wasn’t so bad.

“I don’t get it, it’s meat,” Dante said. “How can meat be bad for you?”

He dropped back on the ground and let out a tortured groan to the heavens. He’d done nothing today and was already tired. The top of his head was overheating, his eyes couldn’t open properly from the bright light, and he desperately longed for a shower.

This desert was possibly the safest place regarding guardians, but it was a death trap. Not a soul around from one end of the horizon to the other. Not a single plant or animal. There wasn’t even any wind. It was a place suspended in time, where any kind of movement disturbed the peace.

“This settles it,” Dante said. “I’ll have to fly us to Crestos Harbor.”

Raphael shook his head. “No.”

“We’re slow on foot. Food is gone, and we can’t live off the land. I think the water can last us one more day, no more.”

“Your abilities should be our ace, Dante, not our crutch,” Raphael said. “We haven’t seen any, but there are residents throughout the desert. One look at a flying person and someone will no doubt inform the nearest guardian headquarters.”

“So what? By the time they catch our trail, we’ll be on a ship.”

Raphael looked away. “You don’t know that.”

“How can you be more afraid of the guardians than the f*****g sun?”

“Why should I be afraid of a force of nature when another force of nature is guarding me?”

Dante opened his mouth to argue, but he only ended up chuckling. One of these days, he would smack Raphael right in the smug grin as soon as he got tired of all this praise. Although, after five years of living with him, he was still weak against these compliments.

With an unbreakable smile on his face, Dante crawled closer to his lover. “Once upon a time, you used to risk your life, my life, and other people’s lives for a reckless gamble.” He snapped his fingers. “And you did it so easily. It was hot.”

Raphael smirked back. “You want me to be a reckless gambler again?”

“Take a chance for me,” Dante whispered. “Let no one stop you from your goals, not the sun, not the guardians, and not any random schmuck who might see us.”

Without any warning, Raphael grabbed Dante by the nape and pulled him closer for a kiss. His lips were dry, but the loving passion of their touch could bring a dead plant to life. They pulled away and looked at each other in silence, getting lost in the moment.

“Can’t we eat your wings?” Raphael asked.

Dante stared at him cluelessly. “What?”

“They’re bird wings, aren’t they? You dispose of them once you’re done flying. Can you remove them without letting them burst into flames? They’re big, there should be enough meat—”

Dante smacked him in outrage. “You missed one meal and now you want to eat me!”

“I said ‘we’!” Raphael said defensively. “We’ll both eat them!”

“If you don’t let me fly, you don’t get to eat my wings!”

And this was something Dante never thought he’d say.

Raphael’s eyes focused on something in the distance. Dante looked back. Something was coming. Or was it? The air was distorting the image on the horizon. It could easily be a mirage, but the more Dante looked at it, the more it resembled a carriage.

Hallucinations were a bad sign. They’d spent too much time in this environment, and it hadn’t been good for either of them.

Dante ignored the vision for a while, until he started hearing a horse prattle upon the hard, cracked ground. They weren’t alone. A carriage was indeed coming their way. It wasn’t just wishful thinking. This was the first living soul they had seen since leaving the train.

Raphael stepped before the carriage and waved his arms. “Hey!”

The wagoner stopped and looked at them, surprised. “What are you crazy people doing here? You’ll catch your death.”

Dante knew this voice. This old man was a demon he had met a long time ago. Dante never forgot his voice or his face.

He had changed. Fifteen years ago, he was in his forties and now his hair was whiter and his voice was raspier, but he was impossible to mistake for anyone else. Dante’s heart started racing. His hands started trembling. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, something was telling him to run and hide, but he couldn’t move.

Raphael was trying to negotiate a price for a lift, but the man quickly lost interest in whatever he had to say when he looked at Dante.

Dante stopped breathing.

The old man’s eyes widened in realization. He let go of the reins and climbed down from the carriage. He stepped before Dante and looked at him from head to toe. Dante also took in every new detail of his features. He’d grown old so elegantly. The wrinkles and the white hair made him more charming. Yet he still preferred black clothes.

“Is that you, Dante?” he asked.

Dante sheepishly looked at his feet before lifting his face with a bright smile. “Nice to see you again, Ragoz.”

They embraced, and Dante inhaled a dreadfully familiar scent. It brought him back many years in the past, to a time of grief and snow, of despair and warm soup, of sweat and a warm blanket. Over his shoulder, Raphael was looking at them, stunned.

“Get in, both of you,” Ragoz said and came back to the carriage. “You look like you could use a meal and a warm bed for the night.”

“You’re saving me once again,” Dante said and followed him. As he passed next to Raphael, he smiled. “He’s an old friend.”

“We’re more than friends,” the old man said. “We survived in the ghetto together!”

“I owe him my life,” Dante said. “He is trustworthy.”

Raphael followed Dante into the carriage. They rattled through the road for hours. After dark, they made a detour and started going down a slope. From this high up, they had a panoramic view of the nearby city and passed through a street sign saying Sedari.

Ragoz stopped the carriage on the very outskirts.

His house was on the way out of the city, a respectful distance from the nearest houses. It was a two-story house, with at least ten different rooms. Servants maintained the interior, while others worked hard to clutter the dinner table with all kinds of dishes. Right next to the house was another building, bustling with life and…well, lots of lustful moans and laughter.

After starving for two days, dinner was the highlight of their week. Dante had so much fun catching up with his old friend. His heart kept pounding, though it might not be accurate to call this excitement. He was nervous. And he didn’t know why.

Raphael didn’t seem comfortable here either. He ate quickly, unashamed of his obvious hunger. Even his royal breeding took a step back to his desire to regain his strength as quickly as possible. He looked around suspiciously, searching for something that would make their stay here dangerous or, at the very least, problematic.

“So, how have you been, Dante?” Ragoz asked and glanced at Raphael with a playful grin. “I suppose this is your…boyfriend?”

Dante chuckled and nodded bashfully. “Yes, Claudius and I are together.”

“I’m glad you left Alirie,” Ragoz said. “That place was awful for…well, everyone. How are the kids? Did they grow up strong like you?”

Dante paused for a moment. “They’re dead.”

“Oh…I’m sorry.” Ragoz shook his head in pity and let out a disappointed exhale. “Don’t blame yourself. It’s a cruel world out there. So where are you two heading?”

“Cre…”

“Rimcona,” Raphael interrupted. “We’re going to Rimcona for the theater festival.”

That old, pleasant smile his lover had used in Elden Palace was back on his face again. It had been such a long while since Dante saw it. Dante almost spilled their real destination. But it didn’t feel right to lie to Ragoz. He wasn’t like the guardians, and he’d just saved them. Still, perhaps Raphael had also picked up on something uncomfortable regarding their host, the same reluctance, even fear, that Dante had felt upon seeing this man again.

Ragoz c****d an eyebrow. “You’re crossing the desert for…theater?”

“We got lost,” Raphael said.

“Good thing you were there,” Dante said.

As much as he wished this to be a casual dinner, the air simply couldn’t shake the awkwardness. Ragoz wasn’t stupid. He knew this Rimcona stuff was a lie, but he chose not to press further. Dante hoped he understood there were good reasons.

After dinner, Raphael and Dante took a much-needed bath. It had been such a long while since Dante bathed with warm water. Back in the mountains, they bathed in a waterfall. Later, they retired to a private room with a large, comfortable bed. The window was facing the city, though since there were no Lumina crystals in these parts, the view was pitch black during the night.

A single candle lit up the room.

Dante felt way too cozy in the overly large shirt he was given for sleeping. Raphael was wearing the same, though he still looked so tense. He spent some time looking out the window in the darkness, intensely thinking about something. Maybe the fact that they were in a city full of guardians was keeping him on edge.

Dante walked up behind his lover and wrapped his arms around his waist, while comfortably leaning his cheek on his shoulder. “You can relax now. We’re safe.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Me?” Dante took a step back in confusion. “Of course. Why?”

Raphael faced him. “You’ve been jittery since you saw this man.”

His eyes pointed down and as Dante followed his gaze, he just now noticed he’d been keeping his hands in fists most of the time. His fingernails had been indented into his palms. Dante rubbed those palms together and walked to the bed. “And you suspect everything.”

Raphael sighed. “Can you blame me?”

“You’re tired,” Dante said. “You have to rest.”

Raphael remained on his spot, scowling at different corners of the room, seeking something. Deep down, Dante shared this unsettling feeling, but ignored it for whatever the reason. So seeing Raphael fixate on it was getting irritating.

“Fine, stand there all night,” Dante said and unbuttoned the top of his oversized shirt, just enough to reveal his shoulder. “I’ll go to bed alone.”

At a moment’s notice, Raphael’s arms possessively wrapped around Dante, and playful, ticklish kisses peppered his neck. The demon chuckled, very pleased with himself.

“I’ll keep us safe,” he said. “You keep me warm.”

“Always.”

They snuggled under the soft, clean sheets and eased into the tranquility of the night. Raphael drifted to sleep as soon as his head sunk into the soft pillow.

Dante tried to stay awake for a bit longer. These calm minutes just before he fell asleep, when he was safe and warm, in the arms of the love of his life, were the reward for surviving another day. Every night he wanted to extend these precious minutes, but paradoxically, he was so comfortable that he always fell asleep fast.

So unfair…