Page 225 of Breathe Like Hell

This was the real Mount Olympus.

Millions of years of immortal civilization.

The air was crisp and cool, brushing my cheeks as the water dried from my glowing skin. A rustling sound made me turn my head, my eyes finding something behind me that looked like a very tall forest. All the massive trees were dark enough to be black, swaying on invisible winds, and they looked similar to pine trees, but there was something different I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

Until I did.

There wasn’t a single pine needle on the ground. Nor a branch or a leaf or a pine cone.

Not a single part of these trees had ever died or weakened or fallen off. How long have they been alive? Forever?

Moreover, the scent coming off the forest wasn’t familiar to me at all.

The air smelled clean, stripped of every scent I’d unconsciously associated with being alive, all the familiarity of Earth erased from my inhales. Every breath tasted almost metallic, though not unpleasant.

I glanced down at the dark stone I stood on, noticing for the first time the veins of glowing vermilion snaking under the surface. A few strange flowers with glinting petals sprung up in long cracks, and I knelt to look at them. Instead of smelling floral, they smelled almost mineral.

I turned my gaze back towards Mount Olympus.

It was…beautiful.

Beautiful in the same way the ocean on Earth was beautiful. Vast enough to swallow me. Majestic and lonely and alive in a way that was difficult to describe.

The life in Heaven wasn’t the same as life on Earth, because there was no death to counterbalance it.

In the distance I saw cliffs and mountains and large pools of black water, more dark forests and silvery fields, everything tinted ruby.

I began taking tentative steps towards the city, since it didn’t seem like anyone was coming to guide me. My boots squished wetly with each step, and I eventually just took them off with my socks and continued barefoot. The stone beneath my feet was cold, but it didn’t seem to affect me anymore—I could still sense coldness, but it didn’t bring with it any negative feeling. I was perpetually warm from within.

Just like my journey to the copper gate, my journey to Mount Olympus took much longer than I’d anticipated. Everything was always much further and larger than it appeared at first.

Large flames of asteria flickered from raised bowls as I got closer, and the marble columns on which they sat seemed very old. The thin metallic taste in the air was stronger as I passed each flame, settling interestingly over my tongue and filling my lungs. It was…restorative. The taste of neon?

I finally reached something that looked like a paved road, and a female angel swooped out of the sky right in front of me, startling me.

My heart was racing as she stepped closer.

Her glowing face was gorgeous.

“Angelakia?” she asked.

I just nodded, unable to find any words to respond to her.

“You can follow me,” she said, then turned without waiting for my confirmation, or checking to see if I was following.

I did follow her, though.

She kept her white wings out while we walked, which made me think about my own new wings. Most of the angels we passed also had their wings out, but some didn’t. Almost everyone wore a shirt with a large slit or hole in the back—much more elegant than the shredded back of my own shirt. Many of them stared at me as I walked, their gazes lingering just a few seconds too long.

If what Mason and Micah told me was true, practically none of these angels would know about Angelakia. They’d have no clue who I was or why I was here.

I trailed behind the female angel as we went further into the city, and she paused only once to conjure asteria in her palm, then light a torch that’d gone out. Aiglen.

We stopped at the entrance to one of many tall buildings, the stone steps in front of it worn like they’d been walked on for millennia. The Aiglen opened one massive door and ushered me inside—but she didn’t follow. The door swung shut slowly behind me as I took in the interior of the building. Tall ceilings, ruby-colored flames dancing in grooves carved in the marble walls, copper finishes decorating the columns around the space.

A man appeared from a dark hallway, and I could guess right away that he was Sigeian.

For some reason, that comforted me. It made me think of Micah.