[Closing Glimpse] Being Human

The sky was the colour of robin eggs, with not a single cloud in sight. The summer sun shone down hard, so much that even shade didn’t offer any cover. The air was dry and still, the only visible movement provided by the haze of heated sidewalks.

But for once, Rowan didn’t care. He had found refuge in a pool, floating around lazily in a giant flamingo floaty. He was seeing yellow, even through closed eyelids and cool-ass shades, as he faced the one sky.

He had caught the reflection in the mirror when he was changing into his swimming trunks - pale skin, with tiny burn scars on his shoulders and a grey spot in the middle of his chest. Each, a receipt for a pice paid.

He would have never made it out of the desert if not for the people that had been with him.
He had struck a bargain with the Hags to protect the Freehold.
He was still alive thanks to Agrippa.

The question remained if it had been worth it. Rowan felt exhausted and even sleep never brought solace. Bonnie haunted him, her final words lost to her dying breath. Mitch, bless his heart, had tried to help, before resigning himself to write a referral to someone else. Rowan had asked for the Fall psychiatrist as penance, but the Bishop had refused. He argued that now more than ever, the Darkling needed the philosophy of Spring to pull through.

That philosophy was now being provided by Snow, Mitchell’s mentor. She was good with trauma and she helping Rowan to put himself back together, better than any king’s horses or men.

Once, he was afraid to stop.
Now, he only wanted peace.

His hand reached to the little floating table and grabbed a tall glass of Prosecco and orange juice. A tiger, lying right next to the pool with a paw in the water follow his movement before settling back in.

“So,” he addressed the homeless-looking man sitting in another floater nearby. “Tell me more about this ‘Religion of Humanity’ of yours.”