Ava closed her eyes and let herself melt into the divan under the warmth of the Cappadocian sunset. Alessandro’s head rested on her shoulder, and she gently ran her fingers through his slightly tangled curls. Minutes drifted by in the quiet peace of the valley. A dry wind swept through the valley, brushing Ava with a chill signaling the change of day into evening.

  Alessandro stood and moved to sit beside her, facing the glowing horizon. After a moment, he rose and walked to the edge of the valley, seeking the wind to cool his restless heart. But the flames inside him only grew louder. He stared at his hands in the fading light of the sunset, breathing deeply, a fleeting sense of relief washing over him when he didn’t see the familiar dark fumes again.

  He tried to steady his thoughts. He knew the sickness had only just begun as this was the first time he notices the dark fumes in his palms. There was still time, years, hopefully, to find clarity. He turned back toward Ava, meeting her worried eyes and the shifting hues of her emotions.

  Her eyes cooled his heart, offering a pastel comfort. Would Carla’s eyes bring him the same peace? Would he hold Carla in his arms, overcome by tears, losing himself in her embrace? The affection he felt for Ava was not the kind of refined emotion an Ars Pherian should feel for a woman. Could this be the sickness, he wondered, making him feel like an animal, driven only by instinct?

  "Are you feeling all right?" Ava's voice cut through his thoughts, gentle but filled with concern.

  Alessandro wanted to ask her, how do you know when you fall in love? But the words caught in his throat. Instead, he said, “Let’s head back, it’s getting dark.”

  He needed time. Time to sort through the feelings that were unfamiliar, strange, and unsettling. A creeping whisper of regret slid down his spine, like a cold breath brushing his neck. You never should have let her get this close, it hissed. You never should have spoken to her.

  Alessandro knew that sooner or later, he would have to send Ava away. The impossible possibility of bringing an Earthian to Ars Pheria was simply not an option. No human from Earth could pass through the portal, she would be swallowed by the darkness, lost forever. His new, unsettling feelings were beginning to cloud his mind, threatening to unravel everything he knew.

  He had to hold on to whatever reasonable thoughts remained. If he couldn’t be himself, he needed to at least act like himself, focus on the practical, the necessary. He had to confront his sickness, not let it consume him.

  There was still time for one last romance. Alessandro had decided that after the hot air balloon ride, he would send Ava back home. Everyone in the universe deserved to experience the magic of Cappadocia from the sky.

  Ava, caught in the throes of a love she wasn’t yet ready to admit to herself, said nothing more that night. She didn’t press Alessandro for answers or ask questions she already knew the answers to. Instead, she offered him the quiet gift of her presence, her soul laid bare, without demands. All she wanted was to ease his troubled mind. If walking away would bring him peace, then she would let him walk away.

  At night, in their cave room, they slept as though it were the last night they would ever share. Ava could feel the tension in the air, the quiet heaviness of something unspoken between them. In the stillness of the night, she noticed the shadows of nightmares chasing Alessandro. His breathing grew erratic, each inhale a struggle, as if something deep within him was clawing at his peace.

  Ava’s heart ached for him, but she didn't know how to help, how to ease whatever tormented him. How could she, when he hadn’t yet opened up to her? She lay still, listening to the turmoil in his breaths, unable to fix what she couldn’t understand.

  It was past midnight, and Alessandro’s nightmares seemed to take a firmer grip on him. His chest rose and fell with uneven rhythm, his body tense and restless. Ava couldn’t bear it anymore. Gently, she stirred, her hands seeking the warmth of his skin. She placed them on his heart, feeling the frantic beats beneath her fingers, and on his forehead, where the tension lingered like a storm.

  In the soft glow of the moonlight, she held him, the stillness of her touch somehow calming the turbulence within him. Slowly, his breathing steadied, and his body relaxed. She smiled, tender and bittersweet, leaned in and she kissed him gently on the forehead.

  They both woke up to the knock on the door.

  “Sir, good morning! The balloon ride is in an hour,” the friendly voice of the clumsy receptionist echoed through the room.

  Alessandro blinked, rubbing his eyes, and looked down at the palms of his hands. He couldn’t help but smile, the relief flooding his chest. He turned to Ava, his face bittersweet with the excitement of this last day ahead. “Good morning, gorgeous! We don’t want to miss this,” he said, his tone soft and warm.

  The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  The van driver, always impeccably dressed in his suit, greeted them with a polite nod as he handed them takeaway coffee and breakfast sandwiches. “Enjoy the ride,” he said, his tone businesslike yet friendly, before he got back into the driver’s seat.

  Alessandro and Ava sipped their coffee in silence, the landscape unfolding as the van rumbled toward its destination. Ava glanced out the window, the rising sun was casting a golden hue over the distant hills.

  After a short drive, they arrived at an open field that stretched wide, easily the size of ten soccer fields. The early morning air was cool, and the scent of dew and earth mingled with the distant crackling of propane burners. Dozens of hot air balloons were already starting to take shape, their bright colors shimmering in the morning light.

  They stood together for a moment, watching in awe as the balloons slowly rose from the ground, the fabric filling and lifting as the fire from the propane burners roared, growing larger with each passing second.

  "Are you ready?" Alessandro asked, his voice cutting through her reverie.

  Ava took a deep breath and smiled, trying to push aside the unsettling feeling that lingered in her chest. "Ready,” she replied.

  The balloon crew called them over when it was time to board. They climbed into the small basket and jumped in. The pilot, a rugged man with a mohawk and scorpion tattoo, greeted them with an unexpectedly sincere friendliness and jumped in his position in the middle of the basket under the propane. Ready to show off his skills, he yanked the burner handle, sending a roar of fire into the balloon. The flame crackled, and the balloon slowly began to rise.

  As the balloon lifted, Ava gripped the edge of the basket, her pulse quickening. Below, the alien landscape of Cappadocia unfurled, fairy chimneys and winding stone valleys that resembled the powerful waves of a gray ocean crashing against the shore. Up here, everything felt serene, almost timeless. Who wouldn't long to remain suspended in this moment, bathed in the first light of the rising sun? It was as if the vastness of the world below had a way of making a human life seem small, insignificant, swallowed by the endless expanse.

  Neither Alessandro nor Ava spoke. The silence was peaceful for Alessandro, who wished he didn’t have to confront his feelings. For Ava, however, it was troubling, she knew time could not be turned back. Despite her restlessness, she remained frozen in her cold pride and uncertainty.

  Their balloon remained in the sky among dozens of other balloons rising from different parts of the region. The pilot was changing altitude regularly to pass between other balloons. The wind was light, but it was enough to carry the balloons through.

  As they ascended higher, Ava noticed dozens of long crew trucks speeding across the ground, racing each other in a bizarre traffic pattern.

  “Why are they driving like that?” she asked.

  “Each crew is following their own balloon because they don’t know where it will land. They want to be somewhere close when the pilot descends.”

  “What do you mean, we don’t know where we’re going?”

  “We’ll go wherever the wind takes us. The pilot will find a suitable spot to land the balloon.”

  “What if he doesn’t want to land?” Ava asked, her eyes watery from the morning cold, sparkling with the rising sun as she looked at Alessandro.

  “He does. He always does. Whenever he feels he could fly forever, he must land. Otherwise, the balloon drifts into dangerous territory, spiky rocks and deep valleys. I’m sorry, Ava. I wish we could fly forever, but we must land.”

  Alessandro looked at her for a long moment before kissing her one last time, lingering in the quiet farewell.

  ~ ~ ~

  There she was again, Ava, standing alone in the airport, waiting for her direct flight from Istanbul to San Francisco. She bought a book from the bookstore and pretended to read it, but in reality, she was only replaying every moment of the past two days in her head. Every detail, every color, every scent. All the good things had to come to an end. As did the strange and the unexplained.

  Ava was calm and cool during the thirteen-hour flight. She watched three movies and drank six bottles of water. She went to the restroom five times. She ate two cherry cakes and a chocolate pudding. She took two painkillers for her headache. She didn’t talk to anyone. She took a shuttle from San Francisco to Paso Robles. She didn’t call Logan. She didn’t call anyone.

  When she got home to Paso Robles, she opened the door of her ranch house, stepped inside, and slowly closed it behind her. Then, sinking to the floor, she let go of the tears she had been holding back in the confused waves of her feelings.

  She cried for hours until, eventually, she threw up. Then she opened a bottle of wine and started filling her empty stomach. The wine soothed her exhaustion and confusion. When her body couldn’t take it anymore, she drifted off to a deep sleep on the couch, still in her travel tights and hoodie, smelling faintly of airline air conditioning.

  The next morning, she woke up with a pounding headache and barely dragged herself to the shower. She wanted to cry more, as if to feel alive again, but the tears wouldn’t come. She felt completely empty inside, there was nothing left to feel. Her luggage remained unopened. She went out to get some groceries and ate yogurt and cereal to soothe her burning stomach.

  Around five p.m., the jetlag hit her hard, and she felt sleepy again. She lay down on her back in bed, not remembering when she had fallen asleep. It wasn’t pitch dark outside yet when she opened her eyes and tried to scream in terror.

  I, the loyal Ghull of the Asaha, can see you in your dream.

  Or in a daydream when you cannot scream.

  I will tell you about what you would not like to believe.

  Though I risk my own sake for you to redeem.