Book for my "October NaNoWriMo Prep" project! |
The island is small and warm, untouched by humans for nearly all of its existence. In fact, Lyn is the first to set foot on it in its millions of years. Its only friends have been a soft wind and the sound of the whispering ocean. Lucien is the only entity to live on its white beaches, and he is no human. The air is salty along the water's edge and rich at its heart, the thick sent of healthy dirt and healthy leaves. Where the whisper of the breeze is softest, you can almost hear the sounds of animal life, whether bird or mammal. In every inch of this island, however, one can hear the song of existence, sung at the very beginning of the earth. It is young here, free of fear and hate and anger. It is an escape. Lucien's house is white and gold, formed of the firmament and from the very bones of our planet. He keeps it clean and open, to feel the breeze and to feel the warmth of the sun. It makes him feel as though he is free from the awful curse of his name, of what has been mistakenly given to him as his duty and his role. He is alone here and unafraid, free to be himself completely. The sky is blue and the plant life thick and verdant. It reminds him of the time when he was unburdened, when the earth itself was unburdened with its own history. Windows let light into every room but the storage cellar, where he keeps all the food and wine he doesn't need, but loves to taste nonetheless. He doesn't need to sleep, but he has a bedroom with a king-sized bed, stacked high with down comforters and thick pillows, covered with silken sheets. It is kept cool with fans. There is no electricity, no modern conveniences (except for the kitchen). Just a huge library stacked floor-to-ceiling with tons and tons of amazing books. Lucien keeps it pretty plain, letting the beauty of the ocean and the sky and the island itself to infest his home. It is the closest to Eden he has been since the humans fell. It is the closest he has ever come to being home again. |