Dante Chief Ghieri, who was engaged to the daughter of a local pub owner -a woman rumored to be involved in the local cult â€“ woke up covered in bruises. The ghastly moon leaned down over four islands in front, her hand plucking off pieces of grass in preparation for the yearly meal she had long awaited. He thought to himself: Why am I here, and how can I get out?
It hurt to stand up but noting how Old Luna gazed at him -tongue licking â€“ it was a safe bet that the full moon drew close. And he, as predicted, was the hag’s favorite dish available.
Three steps forward reach the edge of the island, over a vast nocturne where one can fall and never hit the bottom. A raised head led his eyes to the Citta della Luce, the cathedral -and its twenty meter thick roof -standing on top of a hill. Light flickered blue, green, red, purple and indigo from its glass windows. Around, houses and building stationed in preparation. All empty except for the plants and their bulbs, switching on and off. They were either to greet or panic to the pale moon in the black carpet.
All in all, it was a pretty sight. Dante couldn’t help but smile but the situation turned his lips upside down. A second later, his brow followed suite. He squatted. He leaned forward. Has the moon started its meal? No? Not yet? Stop giving me that look! I am not your toy! Guess, that means that there was time to think. Alright, he estimated that there was a distance of five minutes to the next island. Can he make it? What if he can’t? Is his body capable? How long had he been out? Who did this? Is Isabella safe? Had he been drinking?
Dante jumped as the moon scooped off the land. There was no time to think. He sprinted to the end of the 2nd isle. He leapt. There was a distance of six metres.
In a City with no Sun, there was a boy and a girl who were looking for a treasure. They heard the story from an old man selling withered roses. At a time when there was no city, only a village, a man named Gribo wanted to venture across the land. He wanted to find a land as vast as his, of virgin trees, of pure lights, away from the harassment of witches. To most it was nonsense. Gribo had even denied three hundred poppies from the chief to stop his adventures. He persisted, building bridges that were half the length of the country. Each took three years create but lasted ten seconds before it fell over the cliff. The last design, no one knew.
However, his friend, Sapia, claimed to have spotted the treasure, described it as a highway filled with light, some sort of luminous roots underneath the darkness. It was pure nonsense. Yet, despite being four years younger than he, Sapia but was stubborn as an ox. When Dante had insisted that it was nothing but a hallucination, the girl led him to where she thought it was. She had even written ten pages to describe every detail that had occurred during that day. Sapia even stopped talking to him, told him that they were no longer friends if he didnÂ´t believe her tale. Ironically, it was she who had demanded to be friends again.