Thanatos : The Red Dawn

(22)Rosso Sognare (Part 1)

'You've known from the start...'

Rosso Sognare

"Turn around and say, 'Buongiorno, Italia'."

"Pardon me?"

I was in a dream.

Like before, with the strange woman, I was absolutely certain I was in a bizarre dream. A dream where Thanatos was standing beside me, his large, mean-looking scythe upright, clenched firmly in his gloved hand and his pitch-black, leather boots crushing a defenceless, little patch of grass. 

I was standing beside an intimidating man dressed in armour in broad daylight, who just so by the way happens to be the Greek god of death, and had just been portalled through a worm-hole in space to a completely different country. This was Italy? Italy!

It was a dream- it had to be a dream.

"Don't look so surprised. Being a mage has its advantages." His voice floated past my ears like a soft breeze. I couldn't be bothered less by what he had to say, because in front of me, was Italy and probably the most ancient, and by far the most beautiful building I'd ever seen in my life. 

Thanatos could've been rambling on about how he was going to split my head in half with a wooden spoon and I wouldn't even have tried to stop him.

How am I here? This was truly unbelievable to me.

"Come." His command was firm and somewhat annoyed. He pulled my hand up and hastily led me closer to the stunning building. I could easily see the irritation on his face. I couldn't exactly put my finger on the cause, but I assumed my lack of attention towards the handsome devil had something to do with it.

"Stop the goldfish-act, Aurora."

I assume it has something to do with it. I didn't even bother to retort, which- if Thanatos had been in his cat form- would've made his hair stand on end even more.

On the one hand I was extremely pissed off. How dare he bring me to the other side of the world, throw me through a portal and then tell me not to act surprised, but as Thanatos dragged me through the perfectly trimmed lawn and pillar-shaped bushes, I honestly couldn't bring myself to care. His hand squeezed mine and I fell in-step with his own, walking beside him, eager to see as much of this foreign place as I could.

We walked past young children, all dressed in beautiful and neat grey sweaters and black pants- some with books tucked under their arms and others chatting and laughing or carrying bags or laptops- and not one of them giving Death a horrified stare or even sparing me a confused glance. They looked like students. The stone-lined pathway leading up to a massive, wooden door was polished and recently swept. The gardens were immaculate. 

I felt excitement bubble up inside me. 

What was this secret he was keeping from me? What was really going on? This story had to be much bigger than just a random Greek god entering a young girl's life and trying to mess it up in the most confusing way ever?