"Huh! Where are we? Weren't we supposed to be dead?"
His mother's voice trembled in the air, fragile like a whisper carried by the wind.
And then she finally saw him.
"Igaris…my son, is that you…?"
At the sound of her voice, the weight on his heart broke apart.
Thud!
Igaris fell forward, both knees pressing into the earth beside the opened coffin. His hands trembled, reaching for her pale, now warm fingers.
"Mother…" he breathed, barely able to form the word.
She lifted her hand slowly, as though testing whether the moment was a dream. Her fingers brushed his cheek, and the tears that clung to his face melted beneath her touch. Her eyes widened as the warmth of his skin confirmed the truth. This was not a vision. Not a trick. She was alive.
And her younger son stood before her crying.
"You've grown so much. How did this all happened?" she whispered.
